It was now the next morning and Ethan and I were just hanging out in his room, talking, chilling, finding a movie to watch. I stood up to grab my phone which was charging at his desk when I saw a cab pulling up into my driveway. "Who is that?" I asked out loud, opening his window and sticking my head out.

"What?" he asked, standing behind me, also leaning over to see.

"Someone's at my house," I said. The car stopped and a minute passed until the door opened and a woman stepped out. My eyes fell out of their sockets. "Oh, my god! That's Cher!" I squealed in my spot, turning to run out and see her. I turned around, crashing right into Ethan. He chuckled at me, grinning down. I kissed him, maybe it's the adrenaline, and then I ran out. Barefoot.

The cab was just pulling out of my driveway when I got there, running up to her. "Cher?" I asked.

"You just had to show up and ruin the surprise, you do it every time," she laughed, shaking her head, "Come here!" I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly. She squeezed me in response as well. "Oh, look how big you've gotten," she smiled, looking at me up and down. "That doesn't mean fat," she said quickly. I laughed, hugging her again. "Oh, who is this?" she sang, as we pulled apart. I turned around and saw Ethan standing there, quickly throwing a shirt on.

He ran after you.

Aw.

"Cher, this is Ethan, Ethan this is Cher," I introduced the two even though they spoke on facetime before.

"Ah, the infamous boyfriend, it's nice to finally meet you," Cher taunted.

"Pleasure's all mine," he chuckled while shaking her hand.

"We hug around here," she scoffed before pulling him into a hug. He chuckled as they pulled away and both of them turned to me.

"So..." I trailed off.

"Where are you coming from? I was gonna surprise you in there," Cher said, wheeling her suitcase towards my porch.

"I was at his house," I answered.

"And we're neighbors, that hopefully explains why she ran out barefoot," Ethan said, taking her luggage for her.

"Thank you," Cher smiled at him.

"Oh, crap. I forgot my keys. I'll be right back," I said, quickly jogging back over to Ethan's house and going up to his room, not just grabbing my keys, but my heels, dress, phone, everything. I got back there to Cher and Ethan laughing. Knowing her, it's probably something embarrassing about me.

"Aren't your parents home?" she asked as I pulled the front door open.

"They had a meeting with some clients this morning, they're probably still there," I replied.

"On a Saturday?" she asked incredulously.

"Same shit, different day, working weekends," I shrugged.

"I only work 4 days a week," she bragged.

"You run an art gallery, your work is to approve the art and then show up at exhibitions," I chuckled.

"Don't tell people that!" she hissed, smacking my arm. "Anyway, I'm here only for three days, so I leave it up to you both to make the most of my time here," she said.

"Only three days?" I asked, staring at her ridiculously large suitcase for only three days.

"There's an exhibition in San Francisco I'm supposed to attend in three days, there's stuff in there for that. Fancy dresses and shit," she explained with a groan.

"Right," Ethan and I said slowly in sync. "I'll go leave this in the guest room," Ethan said before going upstairs, carrying the luggage effortlessly.

"Since the guest room is next to your room if you need to sneak over to his house, let me know," Cher nodded.

"I don't have to sneak around with him, Cher. He's met mom and dad and I've met his parents too," I chuckled.

"You should consider eloping with that boy," she said, looking around the house. It's changed since she's been here. A few changes here and there in the interior.

"We're underage," I chuckled.

"Which is why you should elope. Go to England, get married when you hit 18," she shrugged.

"Cher?" I stared at her in disbelief, still laughing it off as a joke.

"I'm being dead serious, honey. Finders keepers. Lock it in while you still can," she said as he came downstairs.

"We did, we don't have to get married to lock anything in," I chuckled. She looked at me, then at him, then back at me.

"Something wrong?" Ethan asked in confusion.

She avoided his question and asked him another one. "Do you love her?"

I looked at Ethan when she asked him that. "Yeah, I love her," he nodded, answering without any hesitation.

"Do you love him?" she asked me.

"I love him," I nodded.

She looked between both of us once again. "Go stand next to him," she told me.

"What is..." Ethan trailed off.

"Why?" I asked.

"Just go stand next to him," she repeated. I sighed, shrugging before going and standing next to him. "Put your arm in his," she said. I did. "Sit down, both of you," she ordered.

"This is getting ridiculous," I mumbled, all of us heading to the couches where Ethan and I sat on one side and she stood in front of us, her hands on her hips, eyeing us down.

"What is she doing?" Ethan whispered.

"I wish I knew," I replied with a small shrug.

"Hmm," she nodded, "Ethan." We both looked up at her, looking away from each other. "Kiss her."

"What?" I laughed.

"Just kiss her."

"Cher-"

"Okay," he shrugged, grabbing my chin and turning me to face him before kissing me. He didn't just peck my lips, he kissed me. Like really kissed me. We never just peck each other's lips, it's always kisses. He pulled away, turning to Cher while I sat there, staring at him in shock. "Now what?" he asked.

I pulled my lips into a thin line, turning to her. "Now I know," she nodded with a smile.

"Now you know what?" he asked. I was still too shocked to speak.

"Now I know you'll get married someday," she shrugged.

"How does... what?" I finally spoke up.

"I can tell, just trust me," she nodded, "When you've had your fair share of romance, and you're as young as me," she smirked, "You can tell when love is real and when it's meant to be."

"I didn't know you were some sort of love expert," I arched a brow at her.

"I'm an old soul, I've seen it all," she grinned.

"That must be it," I scoffed.

"Olivia?" she asked.

"Yes, Cher?" I asked.

"Do you still hide Oreos at the back of the pantry?"

"Yes, I do," I sighed.

"I'm going to get them," she said before wandering off to the kitchen.

I sighed again, leaning back before laughing. "She is out of this world."

"I like her," Ethan said, turning to me, "I feel like that's what you would turn out to be if you were the aunt that's always single, has a very laid back job and a mysterious amount of money," he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

"She does have a very mysterious amount of money. She's crazy rich, there's no way an art gallery does that," I said, my eyes widening.

"Maybe I trap rich men then kill them and take all their money," she said while walking in with a pack of Oreos in her hand. "You never know," she shrugged, sitting on the chair to our right.

Ethan and I looked at each other, confused, shocked, and scared.

"Perhaps I lure them in with my beauty and then kill them and bury their bodies behind my gallery," she shrugged. Both mine and Ethan's eyes widened. I grabbed onto his hand, biting back a laugh. "And then maybe I take all their money and fly to a different city for my next victim," she said.

"How does she find them?" Ethan whispered.

"Rich men like to buy art to show that they're rich, maybe that's why I run an art gallery out of all things," she said. "To be honest, Oreos should be put in an art gallery," she said, breaking out of character.

I sighed, my shoulder slumping. "You could have kept the story going a little longer, Cher," I huffed. Ethan rolled his eyes, leaning back while Cher and I laughed. "Sorry, it's just a story we tell everyone who gets suspicious," I explained.

"And I am crazy rich because indeed, rich men come to buy art to show everyone that they're rich. They usually buy it to impress a woman," she shrugged. "I'd buy art to show a woman I'm rich," she nodded, "If I had a girlfriend."

"Do you?" I asked.

"I'm straight, Olivia. I have... a boyfriend. Hopefully, soon to be fiance," she grinned.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me," I squealed, turning to her.

"Don't bore your boyfriend, I'll tell you tonight," she chuckled.

"But he's coming over tonight," I sang, "And he's staying. You better tell me now Cher, spit it out."

And then she really got into her story.

.

.

.

.

.