Anxious to begin with

On the weekend, I prepare for my next client. For now, I keep it basic with a nice purple summer dress, and a duffel bag filled with goodies. Once I'm dropped off at the two-story house, I ring the doorbell and wait to see exactly who I'm working with. When the door opens, I'm greeted by a lanky 18-year-old with short brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses wearing a Ricky and Morty shirt and track pants.

"Uhh, hey." He stammers.

"Hey there."

"You're Amelia, right?"

"That's me." I smile.

"Uh, come on in."

I follow the boy inside to the living room. "So what's your name?"

"James."

"Pleasure to meet you James."

"You too." His voice still trembles with anxiety. Poor thing must be so nervous.

"You got the house to yourself this weekend?"

"Yeah, my parents are on a trip, so I've got the whole place to myself."

"Perfect. So could we sit down somewhere? I wanna talk for a bit before we get to it."

"Sure. My room good?"

"Perfect."

James leads me to his room, which looks like the typical nerd den. Posters and figurines of various pop-culture characters litter the space, including the computer desk on the right. Next to the desk is a standing mirror as tall as me, and on the left is the bed, where the magic's gonna happen. We sit on James' bed, where he says "So, you wanted to talk?"