"I walked right into that. I dunno, all the girls I've had crushes on before had dark hair," Jim admitted, a little embarrassed at how that sounded in front of his very brunette friend. Even though there were only so many natural human hair colours he could have chosen from. "My first girlfriend was Lebanese, so. Y'know. You must have a type too, c'mon—what do you get excited about?"
He finished the vegetables on the cutting board according to her instructions, which did work a lot more efficiently than his usual method of haphazardly chopping things into unevenly-sized chunks while getting distracted talking to whoever was doing the real work of cooking. He made up for it by always being the first to volunteer for clean-up duty, but it was still a gap in his practical knowledge.
"It's on, we can do that tomorrow night," he said, going to rinse the knife in the sink. He was happy to have the distraction too, what with everything that was going on lately. "Usually whatever stupid challenges They have for us are over by evening, and creepy stories are fun when they're not, like, happening to us. I heard a really messed up one while I was up north transcribing traditional Inuit stories, it had cannibalism. I was like, 'why would you tell me that, dude, I have to walk home in the dark after this.'"