October 31st marked the second time-or maybe the third?-that Leslie had called Ann "stupid hot," and it was the only time her blonde best friend had broken out the phrase while being sober.
For her Halloween outfit that year, Ann had adopted a "biker girl" look to change it up from her normally cheerful, kid inspired costumes. So she'd rocked a black leather vest, a grey shirt with a skull on it, and faded, skinny black jeans. And she'd purposely messed up her hair. And Leslie said, "Ann, get out, you are too stupid hot to be in our presence. No, wait, come back, I want to look at you because you're so beautiful."
So now, nearly four months later, Ann had pulled it out of her Halloween bin in an effort to rouse Leslie back to her abnormally peppy self. She had been waffle-free since her breakup with Ben the previous week, a terrifying sign.
Ann pulls in to Leslie's driveway, then fishes her phone out of her pocket to call. She reconsiders. "What Leslie could use is a dose of her own medicine," Ann reasons. She did what Leslie would do: slipped in the unlocked back door.
"Hey, Les!" she shouts.
"Who the...Ann?" Leslie calls back from her bedroom. "What are you doing here?"
"Coming over to cheer you up. Get dressed, I got a surprise for you. Actually, more than one."
"Okay," she hears Leslie grumble. After another few minutes, Leslie emerges in a gray hoodie and sweatpants. Ann winces.
"Where are we...oh Ann, you beautiful, sweet rebel."
Her heart swoops at the compliment, and divebombs another level lower into her stomach when she starts the process of pushing Les out the door and toward her car. Hadn't had that reaction before, but she's overworked and underpaid and stressed out, too, just like Leslie, so whatever, she'll deal with it later. "Thank you, Leslie. But where we are going is...a surprise, too."
"Ok." Leslie sounds a bit morose, still.
"You can control the radio, if you want," Ann offers. A rather grand gesture, given Leslie's propensity for massive jam out sessions.
Leslie perks up. "Ok." She briefly crunks to Soulja Boy, but sighs. "I'm not really feeling it." She fiddles around with another few stations, then stumbles on to a drum solo. "Ooh, I think...Are you listening? Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!"
The car skids slightly out of control as Leslie's yell interrupts Ann's turn. "Jeez, Leslie!"
Leslie squeezes Ann's arm. "Sorry, Ann, gotta jam!"
Ann goes to shake Leslie's arm off, but stops as the song takes her back to the middle of middle school.
"Is this Jimmy Eat World? Oh my God, I loved this back in the day."
"Sing it with me, sista!" Leslie encourages.
Ann pulls off the road and puts her flashers on, then headbangs with Leslie as the chorus hits, looking for all the world like an actual biker girl. Leslie accessorizes a random comb in the glove box into a microphone, tells Ann to "sing it back," and points the comb into her face.
As Ann responds reflexively, shouting the lyrics, nodding along to the beat, and grinning and laughing at her best friend like the wacko she occasionally is, she realizes there is so little she wouldn't do for Leslie.