Ariana wasn't dressed as... "nicely"... as Brittany, either. The eighteen-year-old had on a tight-fitting T-shirt that hugged her frame and pronounced her D-sized breast, with a simple jean skirt, socks, and tennis shoes. At the door, she held a bag filled with clothes, candies, toys and snacks, and she made an "oof!" sound when Haley bumped in to her. Smiling, the girl brought a hand up to tuck some loose strands of dark hair behind her own ear, batting her dark eyelashes at her friend with a giggle. "It's OK, Haley," she said, looking as Brittany opened the door. Ariana blinked, lifting a near-perfect brow. "Were you expecting US or a BOY, Britt?" asked Ariana with a teasing smirk, moving to step inside.<br/><br/>"I don't know," she admitted at Brittany's question. "I brought my bikini. Swimming pool? Hot tub? Maybe see if there's a movie on." She shrugged, then eyed Haley, nodded at the question. "Yeah - where is that brat, anyways?"