Claire allowed herself a cheek-splitting smirk at being called a best friend- and not a monster- that part was debatable, depending on who she asked. Not a literal monster but the teenage trauma-case variety. Moving on.
The house was a basic two-story suburban model, not too far from the one Claire had grown up in. The front door led to an open foyer hallway; to the right, a dining room with plain oak table and chairs, a hutch with china that had been there as long as the house (they presumed- it'd all been decorated when they moved in). To the left was a living room- couches, an arm chair, a fireplace, an entertainment center with late 90's style TV they never turned on. Also in the foyer was the bannister stairs that lead to the second story- three bedrooms, a large bathroom, and stairs to the attic (they didn't go up there). The kitchen was at the end of the hall, wide and country-ish, with a back door that lead to the porch and a yard that spilled into the woods (they didn't go there, either).
Claire lead the other girl to the kitchen, where her sword and all it's supplies waited, along with the fixins for PBJ's, and a bowl of apples and bananas.
"Help yourself," she said, sitting on the stool in front of her stuff. "We can go over everythin' else after, if you want."