She'd started with one of the bedside tables she'd bought, reasoning that they were the smallest of the boxes, and therefore had to be the simplest--fewer pieces to assemble ought to mean less room for error. But it's been half an hour already, and she's somehow put the legs on backwards twice, and there might very well be a screw missing that she'll need later on, and she's so close to just sitting right where she is on the floor and screaming until she's hoarse.

All this to say, when Rosie hears the knock at the door, she practically runs to open it.

"Regan!" She smiles at the other girl, bright and utterly relieved. "I'm so glad you're here. Come in, please." Laughing a little, she holds the door open for her friend, as though admitting her to somewhere far grander than the box-strewn apartment she's sharing with Neil.