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She grabs my hand and drags me out of my room. She opens the front door and smacks my ass. I send her my own glare, grab the same coat as earlier off the coat rack, and slip it on before heading out.
???
"What about this one?"
Morgan opens the changing room door and walks out in a black mini dress covered in holographic sequins. It stops just below her butt and her boobs are practically spilling out of the plunged neckline.
"I didn't know we were in Skanks-R-Us. Go change." I shove her back towards the room and get a growl in response.
"You're such a prude," she says once she's behind the closed dressing room door again.
"Matt would burst into a ball of fire if you showed up to a party wearing that."
"Fine. This one's better. Just gimme a minute."
I stifle a laugh when I hear a bang and a muffled "ouch.” The door swings open soon after and Morgan stumbles out, attempting to do a dramatic twirl.
"What do you think?"
My eyebrows shoot up, jaw dropping. The maroon coloured lace tank top has a deeply scooped neckline. The colour contrasts nicely with her tanned skin and shows off her chest quite nicely. She's paired the top with a skin-tight leather skirt that clings to her small waist and reaches her knees. The whole outfit shows off her body in all the right places.
"You look perfect, M." I give her an encouraging smile.
She jumps up and claps her hands in excitement. "Yay! Okay, I'm going to get this one. Wait for me while I change," she commands, heading off to change again.
Ten minutes later, we've made our way out of the mall and into the safe confines of Morgan's Jeep. Some catchy pop song is blasting through her speakers and it's only a matter of seconds before we're both singing along shamelessly to the cheesy lyrics.
Eight songs later and with our throats sore, we pull into our parking spot a few feet from the side door of our apartment building. I didn't realize how much I missed her—even if she did make me go shopping.
Morgan goes to the backseat to grab all of her shopping bags while I head inside. I get to our floor and push the heavy metal door open.
When I see a woman leaning against the wall opposite my apartment, I pick up my pace, hurrying down the hallway as curiosity gets the better of me. If this is one of Adam's one-night stands I swear I'll kill him.
As I get closer, I realize she's way too old to be a one-night stand. Or at least I would hope so.
The woman's hair is scarily thin. It is a dark shade of brown that highlights just how pale her skin is. Her green eyes are bloodshot as they move to stare back at me, hauntingly vacant.
"Hello? Do you need something?" I politely ask the woman.
She pushes away from the wall and stands up straight, brushing her hands across her torn clothing. The sweatshirt she's wearing isn't exactly the most eye-pleasing piece of clothing I've ever seen. It's stained, faded, and the yellow material hangs loosely on her thin frame.
"You're beautiful," she whispers, her voice rough and faraway. I raise my eyebrows and take a cautious step back from her, gripping my keys tight in my hand. What the…
"Do I know you?" I murmur, panicked and unsure of what to say. The woman flinches back at my question. I want to ask her more but decide against it.
"You don't know who I am?" she asks in disbelief, which only confuses me more.
The sound of the stairwell door slamming shut makes her jump. She steadies herself against the wall and looks in the direction of the noise.
I take my gaze off the woman to see Morgan making her way down the hall, her hands full of shopping bags. Her eyes widen in surprise when she notices our visitor. Glancing between the two of us, she mouths something at me that I don't understand before dropping her shopping bags and whirling on the woman.
"Who the hell are you?" she hisses. Morgan crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at the nameless woman. She gets no response from her, just an emotionless expression. "Well? Do you speak?" Morgan asks again, clearly losing her almost nonexistent patience.
Still, the woman doesn't speak. She just stares at me. I begin to feel even more uncomfortable when she bravely places her hand on my forearm.
I cringe and pull away. I smack against the wall behind me as I stare back at her with wide eyes.
"Can you just tell us who you are?" I try to plead with her and smile in an attempt to seem friendly.
