"And can you add an espresso shot to that?" Julian asked the barista.

The girl met his eyes and gave a sympathetic smile. "Sure thing. Will that be all?"

"Yeah, that's it for today, thanks."

After paying, Julian stumbled over to the pick-up counter. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of one of the pastry cases, he could understand the barista's pitying expression. He looked terrible. Paler than usual, dark bags under his eyes, hair sticking up every which way. He looked like death warmed over.

"That girl will be the death of me," he mumbled as he tried to straighten out his hair.

"French toast latte with an espresso shot?" another barista called out.

"Thank you," Julian said as he took the cup from him.

Even this barista gave him a sad smile. Did he really look that awful?

Turning to find a chair in the corner where he could disappear, Julian noticed Flora sitting by the window. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but smile when he saw her. Her lips were forming words he could not hear, and her eyes scanned her sketchbook as she tapped a pencil against the page. His eyes, which had been so heavy that he had nearly fallen asleep waiting in line, now could not seem to leave Flora's moving lips. They were tinged a very pale orange today, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe they tasted like an orange creamsicle.

He stopped short and shook his head. Where had that come from? He was definitely overtired. He should go home and catch up on the sleep he lost last night thanks to Piper. However, despite these rational thoughts, his body was not cooperating. His feet brought him closer to Flora's table until he could finally hear the words her lovely lips were forming. He cocked his head, trying to process what she was saying. A smile slowly crept over his face.

"Are you singing Taylor Swift?"

Flora jumped, her pencil clattering to the ground. Julian chuckled and stooped over to pick it up. "You scared me," Flora breathed.

Julian handed her the pencil. "Sorry."

"No, no it's—" Her eyes widened as she focused on his face. "Oh my word, what happened to you?"

"Do I really look that terrible?"

"Well, no, I mean, you still look good." Julian grinned, and Flora became flustered. "I mean, you just look really worn out today. Did you not sleep last night or something?"

"Eh, it's fine, I just had a rough night. So seriously, were you singing Taylor Swift?"

"Ah, yeah, I downloaded her latest album. I actually really like it. I thought she was a country singer, but this is really poppy. It's catchy."

"Mm, she was a countryish singer until recently. I'll have to lend you my deluxe edition of 1989. The bonus songs are the best ones."

"Sounds good." Flora's eyes wavered slightly before her face crumpled into concern. "Julian, really, what happened? You look like you haven't slept in days."

Sighing, Julian plopped down in the empty seat across from her. "I was up really early this morning. And I haven't been sleeping too well the past couple of days."

"Why? I mean, I don't want to pry—"

"Nah, it's fine. It might actually be nice to talk to someone about it. My friends aren't exactly the type of people I feel comfortable talking to about family matters. And besides, they all think my sister is hot, so they'd likely just hound me for her newest number."

"You have a sister?"

"Yep, a younger sister, which I guess explains a lot. She's kind of a free spirit."

"Is she the one who woke you up early this morning?"

"Indeed she is. I got a call from my parents a few days ago telling me that Piper—my sister—had just called them from India."

"India?"

"Yeah, she travels a lot. Hardly ever stays in one place for more than a month. Anyhow, they called to warn me that she had gotten in touch with them begging for money. Again. They decided they were no longer going to bail her out of the trouble she keeps getting herself into, and they just wanted to give me a heads up."

"They don't want you to help her, either?"

"No, they'd never demand that of me. They just wanted me to be aware of the situation before I heard her sob story. I can't really blame them for being fed up. They've probably spent thousands of dollars on her. Student debts, failed business ventures, credit card bills. She runs off with guys she thinks she's in love with and then calls crying to our parents when the guys up and leave her. But no matter how many times Mom and Dad save her, she always runs back to that whirlwind lifestyle."

"Still, it puts you in a tough position."

"Yeah. I mean, I want to stand by them. I want to be like them and tell Piper, 'enough is enough.' It's the only way she'll learn responsibility. I hardly slept the next few nights after they called, thinking about the phone call I was certain I was going to get from Piper. And then, sure enough, she called me at three this morning, sobbing about how no one loved her. And, I don't know, my heart just sort of broke."

"Well, she's your sister."

Julian sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. I mean, we have so many good memories, even if she's always been selfish and impetuous. You know, she's the one that got me into cooking."

"Really?"

"Yeah, our parents had to work a lot when we were little, and she would cry and cry when I was left to watch her. So to cheer her up, I'd make her yummy food. It started off as silly sandwiches with faces, but when I got older, I started making more elaborate desserts. She was always my willing guinea pig."

"That's sweet."

"I guess that's why I couldn't say 'no' to her. I was on the phone for hours, reassuring her that we all loved her and wanted to help her. Then I agreed to send her money."

"You caved."

"Yes, I caved. After all that, I couldn't go back to sleep, so I waited outside the bank until they opened, and after I sent the money, I headed over here to drown my problems in sugar and caffeine."

"Wow, I'm sorry your morning started out on such a dramatic note."

"Eh, family, you know. They drive you nuts, but what would you do without them?"

"That is true."

"Do you have any crazy family members?"

"Aunt Josephine is a little eccentric, but it's nothing that really causes me any trouble. She's actually very sweet and nurturing. I mean, she practically raised me."

"She raised you?"

"Yeah, my mom—her sister—suffered from cancer for two years. Half a year into it, my dad died of a heart attack. And then when I was eight, Mom died. Aunt Josephine was the only family I had left, so she took me in and raised me."

Julian's stomach sank. "I'm so sorry."

Flora shrugged and gave a sad smile. "It was rough at first. I was really close to my parents. But Aunt Josephine was there for me, and she helped me learn how to cherish the memories of them without associating them with the pain of losing them. I owe her a lot. Which is why I think I stay working at the flower shop even though I'd love to pursue a career as a seamstress."

Seeing the sadness in her smile plunged a dagger right through Julian's heart. He nearly reached out to touch her hand, to convey to her how sorry he really was. But he resisted, curling his fingers around his latte instead.

"My dad is actually the one who introduced me to sewing," Flora continued, her face brightening.

"Really?"

"Yes, he was a tailor, and I used to watch him working on the sewing machine for hours. Even though I was young, he tried to teach me the basics. I didn't really understand it all back then, but it stuck with me. As I got older, I decided to take up a needle and thread in an effort to keep him close. And, well, it just took off from there."

"It's nice you have that sort of connection with him."

"Same with cooking and your sister."

"Except my sister is still alive and is just a selfish little brat."

"Still, you love her, and cooking reminds you of that love. Just like sewing reminds me of my dad." A grin broke out on her face. "You know, my mom loved camping when she was healthy. We went every year. I didn't really like it. Bug bites and no toilets." She stuck her tongue out. "But my dad decided to cheer her up when we had to cancel our annual trip because of her treatments. So we sewed beautiful pieces of fabric together and built a giant tent in the living room. We filled it with dozens of pillows and even made a star projector to make it look like we were under the night sky."

"Your mom must have loved that."

"She did. We stayed up all night eating s'mores and telling scary stories. It was wonderful."

Her eyes grew distant and her smile softened. In that moment, Julian thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to touch her. But his body would not move, and his tongue remained silent.

"Anyhow," Flora said, shaking her head slightly and focusing on him, "I hope things work out with your sister."

Swallowing hard, Julian nodded. "She's probably always going to be self-centered, though."

"But you'll always be there for her."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're so sure I'm that benevolent?"

She shrugged one shoulder and grinned. "I know that you're her big brother and that you're as sweet as the coffee you drink."

Now he really was at a loss for words. She laughed that infectious laugh of hers, and Julian was certain that it was his favorite sound in the world.

"So you said something about that Taylor Swift CD?" she asked.

"Ah, yes, yeah. I can lend it to you, definitely."

"You'll have to tell me your favorite songs so I can give them a real good listen."

Clearing his throat, Julian mumbled, "I'm in love."

Flora's eyes widened, and she sat up straighter. "You're what?"

"You. You are."

Her brow furrowed.

"I mean, 'You Are in Love,'" he said, his tongue and stomach twisting into knots. "It's a song. My song. I mean, my favorite song. By Taylor Swift. It's one of the bonus ones."

Her body relaxed. "Oh. Well, I'll have to listen to it."

"Yeah. Definitely. It's...good...I'd better go get some sleep. Ah, but I'll bring the CD next time I'm here."

Flora smiled. "I'll be waiting."

Julian had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid. He returned her smile, picked up his cup, and headed out the door, all while his heart threatened to break out of his ribcage.