I spent the day trying to figure out what to wear.

The last time we'd gone out, it'd been for dinner at a nice restaurant. This was completely different and a little bit more confusing. We weren't going out at all. In fact, Phoebe had asked if I wanted to stay in.

Instead of a public date, I was going to her apartment to make dinner and cookies. Then, watch a movie.

I didn't know what to think. This felt more intimate than what we'd been doing.

I searched through all of my drawers and clothes hung up in my closet, but I couldn't figure out what would be a good move. I didn't want to overdress for the occasion because that seemed cheesy, but if I underdressed, would that also send the wrong message?

An hour before I had to go downstairs, I settled on a neutral pair of sweatpants and a somewhat nice shirt. It was cute, but didn't look like I was trying too hard. It didn't seem like I'd spent the entire day trying to figure out what to put on.

As I started to do my makeup, I heard the door open and Cassidy enter the apartment. I went back to focusing on my eyeliner, doing my best to make the tip as sharp as humanly possible. Cassidy was usually better at this sort of thing.

"Hey, whatcha up to?" Cassidy called out from the living room as I heard her drop a couple bags on the couch.

"Just getting ready," I replied.

"For what?" Cassidy suddenly poked her head into my room, eyebrows scrunched up. She immediately noted my shirt and half-done makeup. "Are you going on a date?"

I didn't know how she'd read me so well. My face darkened. She still didn't know. "Not really." I switched to a small tube of mascara and carefully began to apply it.

Cassidy crossed her arms as she leaned back against the door frame. "Mmhmm."

I finished one eye and quickly went to the other, glancing at her briefly in between. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean by what?" Cassidy responded, innocently.

"You sound like you don't believe me," I pointed out.

Cassidy let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm not dumb. I see things."

Oh god. Maybe she did know. I thought I'd been discrete.

But then again, Phoebe and Cassidy were friends, so Phoebe had just as much of an ability to tell Cassidy about all of this and hadn't. But maybe Phoebe had made a comment or said something or....

"Aren't you sick?" I retorted, trying to change the subject.

Cassidy shrugged, still keeping her arms crossed. "A little, sure. I also just have a lot of work."

"Oh. Did you go to a doctor?" Mission success?

"I did. I have medicine," she said. "Whatever. Have fun. Be safe. Or don't." She winked at me quickly, and then smirked immediately after. Then, she swerved out of the room before I could correct her.

I guessed that meant she approved.

_____________________________________________

Phoebe took a minute to open the door, in which I began to panic that I'd gotten the date wrong and had messed everything up.

My anxiety was quickly relieved when I saw her smiling face at the entrance to her apartment. She was more dressed up than I was. She wore a pretty yellow sundress and her hair was pinned back by a maroon hair band with a silk bow on it. She'd done her makeup a bit, too. The ochre skin on her cheekbones was tinted a deep maroon and she wore a dark brown lipstick that went well with the sundress.

"Hi," she said, simply, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of the hallway.

"Hey." She stepped aside and I walked through the door, feeling my heart rate kick up a notch. I realized only then that I should have brought something; an ingredient maybe. Or a drink we could share to go alongside the food.

Phoebe still hadn't even told me what we were going to make. She briefly insinuated it would be something with pasta, but I didn't really know. I awkwardly sat down on her couch in the apartment as she quickly pulled different items from her cabinets and fridge.

This was the first time I'd ever been in Phoebe's apartment.

I'd guessed generally that it would look similar to mine and Cassidy's, but I hadn't realized that Phoebe didn't have a roommate.

It was a small apartment, but homey nonetheless. The couch was made of a brown leather with a few decorative pillows clearly picked carefully to match. The walls had a few posters hanging here and there. One depicted a handful of plants and their defining characteristics. Another was for a band that I used to like when I was in middle school. The room branched off from the living room, and from where I sat, I could only see the corner of a bed and a group of shelves lined with books.

Everything was put together, well-ordered, taken care of. Nothing had been left on the floor and the table in front of the couch looked pristine. The window overlooked a nearby building where multiple rooms were lit up and I could see shadows drifting by.

"So, do you want to be on alfredo sauce duty or bread duty?" Phoebe asked as she fiddled with a container on the counter.

I knew how to cook basic things, but I was no expert. I was used to boiling up pasta and using a rice cooker, but that was the extent of my cooking knowledge. "I'll take bread duty." It sounded much simpler.

"Great," she replied. Then, she pulled a loaf of ciabatta bread off the top of the fridge and chucked it toward me. I barely caught it in time, just stopping it from smacking me across the face.

"Hey!" I yelled, smiling.

She just smirked and quickly turned back to the pan she had set on the stove.

She'd taken out a pan and a couple of cloves of garlic, leaving them on the counter beside the stovetop where she was working. Nervously, I opened up the bread bag and pulled the giant loaf out, not sure what to do next.

Noticing my uncertainty, Phoebe grabbed the loaf from me and fumbled around with a few kitchen utensils before pulling out a large serrated knife.

"Geez," I said softly, only slightly startled. 

She laughed. "Have you never used one before?" She gave me an inquisitive look.

"I don't even think I own one."

"You should. These bad boys are brilliant for getting through tough crust." She immediately began sawing through the loaf, cutting piece by piece until she'd sliced more bread than either of us would be able to eat in that one night.

After that, we continued with our separate tasks, mostly silent. I buttered the bread with a room temperature stick of butter and minced up some garlic, nearly cutting myself in the process. Phoebe had to step in to help. All the while, Phoebe worked on stirring some creamy mixture in the sauce pan and boiling up a ton of spaghetti.

Finally, once I'd finished all of the bread, I showed her it. "Is this good?"

She nodded. "Looks great. Now put it in the oven."

She scooted out of the way as I leaned down and opened up the oven door. A wave of heat blew at my face and I winced. Cautiously, I slid the pan onto the middle rack and closed the door. As it finally shut, I felt the back of my hand accidentally brush against Phoebe's side.

My face reddened, blood flushing my cheeks as I rushed to get out an apology. "I'm so sorry. Sorry," I mumbled, holding a hand out to her.

She shook her head quickly, also a bit caught off guard. "Don't be sorry. Please," she replied. She didn't move further away from me.

I brushed the palms of my hand on my shirt and looked down at the ground. I refused to meet her gaze and instead stared at the milky mixture. It was just barely bubbling.

"Did you talk to Cassidy about us?" I blurted.

Phoebe stopped stirring the pot and stared down at the cream. "Um..." The question hung in the air between us, setting a heavy weight on both of our shoulders. She looked toward the window and completely turned her body away from me. "I may have...," she finally finished.

I'd known something was a bit off with the way Cassidy had been questioning me. "Can I ask what you told her?"

"I just briefly mentioned we were seeing each other. She didn't seem to think it was a big deal."

Knowing Cassidy, she would have pretended it wasn't just to avoid freaking out Phoebe.

But I knew Cassidy. I knew how much she wanted me to find the person of my dreams and I was certain she'd been excited to hear about this. Would it be worse for her to hear then that it was all a lie?

"Oh. That's fine," I said quietly.

Phoebe returned to stirring. A sad look had crossed her face and didn't seem to be disappearing. The corners of her mouth were turned down and her eyes stared straight at the pan. She refused to even meet my gaze. "I mean...I didn't lie, did I?"