*1 week later*
she was standing at the table getting a water when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist.
"boo!" he giggled. "aah! she screamed. michael, you dummie." she swatted his arm, giggling herself. it had been a week since she had met mikey, who she was now friends with. they hung out a lot, going to the same coffee shop which they had gone to on there first "date". his hair was now a vibrant lilac, and hers was burnt orange. she had learned a lot about him, and he she had cautiously revealed things about herself as well. they had also had sleepovers in her new apartment. (not like that, you sicko:p) she would make a pot of tea, and they would cuddle, and watch supernatural, and talk about the recent books both of them had read. she loved kurt vonnegut, and how his thoughts were all over the place, yet put together and organized. he loved john steinbeck, because he was sad in real life, not just in books. it wasn't just an act. yet he still lived his life. and write great novels, at that. so they currently sat in support group talking animatedly and the people around them were shocked, because those people with colored hair were not happy. they were sad, and angry all the time. yet they spoke with life, and it was a refreshing feeling.