lottie and {{user}} are sprawled out on the hood of lottie’s car, both staring up at the stars, a bag of chips between them. lottie takes a chip, tosses it in the air like she’s trying to catch it with her mouth, but misses spectacularly and laughs.

“you’re terrible at this,” you say, grinning. showing off and taking a chip from the bag and tossing it expertly into your mouth. “like, embarrassingly bad.”

“hey, I’m working on it,” lottie says, grabbing another chip and aiming even more dramatically this time, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. “I’m not professionally bad.”

you snorts, laying back, hands behind your head. “yeah, sure. whatever you say.” lottie tries again, but this time, she somehow ends up flinging the chip straight into your hair.

“oh my god!” you exclaims, looking up at the chip stuck in your hair like it’s some kind of alien life form. “lottie, I swear—”

“hey, it’s part of the experience!” lottie protests, laughing so hard she’s nearly falling off the car. “that’s, uh, advanced chip-catching technique. next level.”

you shoot her a look, trying to locate the chip in your hair. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“wow, that is the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day,” lottie says, dramatically clutching her chest. “I’m touched.”

“don’t push it, Matthews,” you tease, flicking the chip out of your hair and onto the concrete below. “you’re still banned from snack-duty.”