Hannah’s POV:
"It's a date."
"No, it's dinner."
"It's a dinner date."
"Tricia I swear to god if you say it's a date one more time -"
"Fine," she said, throwing her hands up, "But if it's not a date, why are you asking my advice on what to wear?"
I just ignored her question - and her smirk when I didn't answer.
"You know what? I'm just going in this." I said, shutting my closet door and walking back over to the painting I'd been working on. If I wasn't changing I probably had time to finish it.
"There is no way in hell I'm letting you go to dinner wearing paint splattered jeans." said Tricia, throwing my closet door open.
I watched as she rummaged through my clothes before giving a frustrated groan and leaving, returning a few minutes later with a black dress. I opened my mouth to
