[359: And the problem with wine snobs is...]
Twyla sifts through the mess on the coffee table, picks out one glossy-covered magazine. “Tell me this isn’t…oh, god, it is. Miranda? Is this yours?” She clucks her tongue disapprovingly.
“Mmm?” Miranda looks up from her textbook, sees what her roommate is holding, and can’t help but blush. “Um. Maybe?”
“Maybe?” Twyla presses.
“It might belong to Harris. Or something.” A sheepish smile follows, because she knows she’s been caught.
“I wish I could believe that. Please, please tell me you did not actually buy Wine Spectator magazine?”
Miranda shrugs. “Keep in mind that I never claimed not to be pathetic.”
“Mmm?” Miranda looks up from her textbook, sees what her roommate is holding, and can’t help but blush. “Um. Maybe?”
“Maybe?” Twyla presses.
“It might belong to Harris. Or something.” A sheepish smile follows, because she knows she’s been caught.
“I wish I could believe that. Please, please tell me you did not actually buy Wine Spectator magazine?”
Miranda shrugs. “Keep in mind that I never claimed not to be pathetic.”