Meet Lien

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Lien might not want to go camping, not really, not one tiny bit, but her fashion aesthetic for the trip is entirely on point. It’s olive green on muted neutrals, lemon and lavender on white, vintage safari meets “this summer is too fucking hot to wear anything
much.” Every piece is exactly right. The trouble is there are a whole lot of pieces.

Lien flops onto her bed on top of them. She sighs aloud. She has to accept the truth. There’s no way she can fit all these clothes into her rucksack, and it’s been made very clear that she can’t take more than one bag. The car’s already going to be tight with four of them in it along with their camping gear. And they do probably need the tent and the bedding and the food more than Lien needs a third cute T-shirt with an old-style caravan on it or the amazing utility suit she got a deal on through eBay last week.

Beau’s flawless golden-brown hair appears around her door before the rest of him steps into the room. The rainbow lights pick up his cheekbones and the perfectly landscaped stubble on his jawline.

“Beer?” he asks, offering one to Lien. Both beer bottles are already open.

“God, yes.” She sighs. “You’re a prince among housemates.”

She takes the cold bottle and follows Beau to the balcony. Sitting on it, as they are now, they’re mostly hidden behind the mottled trunk and shivering silver leaves of the gum tree that grows out of the sidewalk at the front of their house.

She takes a mouthful of beer and scrunches her face to consider Beau.

“So, I’m packing.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’d noticed.”

“It is not going well. There’s so much stuff I need.” She frowns. “And Nic says it’s ridiculous to take a vintage safari suit camping.”

“Nic’s not wrong.”

“Beau.” Lien huffs air through her nose. “I don’t know why I assumed my best friend would understand.”

“Even though your girlfriend doesn’t?” He tips back in his chair and sucks on his beer.

Lien fixes him with a glare.

“Li, it’s a safari suit.”

“It’s vintage Hermès.”

“And you want to take it camping?”

She plants her beer on the table and counts on her fingers. “Number one: I battled peak hour on William Street in torrential rain to purchase that safari suit. Number two: I have never overlooked an opportunity for fashion, even when that opportunity involves a camping trip in the middle of summer.” She takes a breath and remembers to add. “Number three: Nic is not my girlfriend.”

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