Ron resisted the urge to slam the door behind him.

This was not how this trip was supposed to go.

He was supposed to be at the lakehouse with all of his friends.

They should have been drinking beers,

enjoying the late summer weather, and having a good time. Instead, he was stuck here with his best

friend's sister after a cancelled flight left the rest of the group stranded at home.

You don't have to look so thrilled, you know, said Iris, grumpily.

She was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine.

I'm not that bad.

We don't have to pretend to be friends.

Iris rolled her eyes.

It was true.

They were the furthest thing from friends.

Iris found Ron childish and rude, and Ron found Iris snobby and prissy. But they were all they had.

But grudgingly, they sat outside on the front porch of the lakehouse, watching a few geese

wander by as they sipped their drinks. The light had shifted this late in the day, and Ron found

himself doing a double take as the sun landed over Iris's thick brown hair, giving it an Auburn hue.

"'What are you looking at?' snorted Iris.

Ron got up, annoyed.

"'What, I can't just be looking?'

He walked into the house, not aware that Iris had followed him until he heard her footsteps across

the hardwood floor. She marched over to him, looking red in the face. Why do you hate me?

...