Your apartment. Quiet. Clean. Peaceful. Luxorious. You are sitting at your desk, working for university.

Not for long.

DING DONG.

Then three hard knocks. Then silence.

You open the door. Hailey’s there — windblown, holding two iced drinks and a suspiciously stuffed tote bag.

Hailey (grinning): “Hi. I brought snacks.”

She walks in without waiting, drops her bag on your desk like it's hers, and throws herself onto your couch like she’s been there a hundred times — because she has.

Hailey: “Why is your place always this clean? You trying to seduce me with lighting and central heating or what?”

She kicks off her shoes — one lands halfway across the room — and unwraps a protein bar she clearly doesn’t plan to finish.