You go to her House

Stef's house is on the other side of the city, so walking is out of the question. You take a bus to her neighborhood, and walk the rest of the distance, a 45 minute trip altogether. Standing in front of her home, you're in awe. For the last month or so Stef had been coming to your parents place when you met up, likely because of all of the renovations she made. Her once suburban cookie cutter house now was something from a movie. Made of painted pink steel and glass, it is a miracle the amount of work done in such a short period.

Slightly embarrassed at having to enter such an effeminate building as if it were your own, you haste to the door before anyone can see you. Grabbing the keys from under the potted sunflower, you enter Stef's abode. The inside mirrors the exterior. Pink walls, fluffy couches, carpeting to match. It seems that your biggest task is going to be not being seen in this atrocity.