Steaming Cup of Joe

"Yeah, but you are a boy, so you know what boys are like. Not that I have a boy I plan on asking out, I mean, I barely know anyone here."

Maddie turned on her back and stared up at the darkening sky. It had gotten late, very late indeed. One of her hands remained resting on her stomach, and her face had cooled down from her previous blush.

She nibbled her lip as she thought. "You're gonna be my wingman," she said with a sudden, quick giggle.

'Oh, boy has today been a weird day. I think you'd agree."

Maddie sucked in a breath, hard enough that it sounded like it hurt.

"Oh my god! Do I get to be your wingman-- winggirl? --too? That would be so cool! I'd be awesome at it. I mean, look at this cute face, who could resist? I would pretend to be your adorable little sister!" she squished her cheeks with her balls, pushing them around to show off said cute face.

Maddie stretched her arms over her head and groaned pleasantly at the feeling. She fell flat again, eyes closed and smiling.

"You so need a co-polit. Everyone needs a co-pilot! That way, when some weirdo is trying to hit on you, your wingfriend can swoop in and pretend to be dating you or something. They can also scope out the field and butter your crushee up for you. Gosh, Malvoes, haven't you ever read cosmo?!"

"The magazine that tells you everything about everything," Maddie said, feigning offense. "Like, we could legit figure out what your type of man was right now. We could go back to my room, look at that magazine, and know for a fact."

She nodded confidently. Maybe she wouldn't be the best wingman. Beware, Malvoes.