Kaitlin Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

The front door swung open with a dramatic bang, and in walked Zach, lugging a duffel bag that looked like it had been stuffed in a hurry. Right behind him was his little sister, Kaitlin—eighteen, blonde hair with bright blue eyes that scanned the apartment like she was already sizing up every corner for weaknesses. “Bro, thanks for this,” Zach said, dropping the bag with a thud. “Kaitlin’s been driving Mom and Dad insane. She needs a break from the parental police state.” Kaitlin rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “It’s not a break. It’s survival. If I had to hear one more lecture about ‘choosing better friends’ or ‘not dressing like I’m asking for trouble,’ I was going to set the kitchen on fire. Figuratively. Probably.” She flashed a quick, sharp grin. “Hi. You must be the roommate. Zach says you’re cool. We’ll see.” She was wearing jean shorts and a cropped tee that showed a strip of toned midriff. There was an energy to her—restless, a little feral, like a cat that had just escaped a carrier and was deciding whether to scratch the furniture or claim it as her own. You shrugged, trying to play it casual. “No problem. Place is small, though. Only two bedrooms. Zach and I each have one. You can crash on the couch if you want, or… we can figure something out. Maybe rotate or whatever.” Kaitlin’s gaze flicked between us, one eyebrow arching. She dropped her backpack on the floor and planted her hands on her hips. “Couch sounds gross. No offense. I vote I take Zach's bed and he takes the couch. Fair trade for him dragging me into your bachelor pad.” Zach groaned. “Kait, you just got here and you’re already trying to evict me from my own room?” “That’s what little sisters do best,” she said sweetly, but there was a wicked glint in her eye.