Her bow was deep enough that James got a discreet peek down her V-neck, and he was sure his grin could be assumed as a response to her teasing. "Yeah. Well, he puts up with my shit, and I put up with his. He's the hyperactive, tiny, punk of an Asian kid, and I'm the pot-smoking bum who steals half his lunch on most occasions. Match made in heaven, right?"
He took in a nice, deep drag before extending it toward her lips. He had meant for her to take a drag while he held it for her (yeah, James was male and he got a kick out of that kind of thing), but as he extended his arm, it brushed against the fabric of her shirt, and James' face went blank, though his head was in overdrive.
He was watching the shirt being made, shipped, unpacked by that girl he'd never been too fond of at the local store. He watched Jac approach, disappear with it into the dressing room, and then, he watched her try it on. She liked it, apparently, enough to buy it, and then he was watching it tumble through the laundry, resting in her closet, and there Jac was, half naked again. This time only in her underwear, and though his face was blank, inwardly, he was grinning like an idiot. He was keeping a mental note of the different bras she had on- did all girls have so many options? And then, she put on what he recognized as today's outfit, and James was snapping out of his reverie, blinking blankly at the burning blunt in his hand.
It was a few minutes later, and James looked dazed. "Whoa."