Aksel is gone by the time I get up on Saturday. He gets up very early these days – I suspect it has something to do with the crazy-early sunrise and our flimsy curtains. And maybe also the fact that he doesn't want to have to speak to me.

Either way, I rarely see him anymore when I get up at my usual time of eight. I've always had the ability to sleep through anything – even with the sun rays streaming in from as early as four in the morning.

Helsinki is a contradiction. One moment, it's pitch-black and freezing cold at three in the afternoon. And then, before you know it, it's almost summer and daylight hours get so long that you start to wonder if the sun ever does set.

I turn to look at the curtains. It looks bright outside. The weather is probably perfect.

I kick my legs out, feeling the smooth sheets rub against my skin. The duvet rises, then deflates a little, housing a pocket of air that doesn't quite subside.

Suddenly, I am hit by an irrational urge to pull up the covers and burrow deep beneath them. And maybe never surface again.

It would be so easy.

Getting out of bed every day with nothing to look forward to – that's the hardest thing of all.

Then I hear a bleep, a noise that sounds so out of place from the silence that it takes me a moment to place it. I sit up, pushing back the covers a little so that I can reach for my phone.

It's a message from Gabi in the group chat I have with her and Tessa. Four simple words: We're worried about you.

I stare at it, my thumb hovering over the button that leads back to the home screen. What do I reply to that?

Eventually, I type back a short, Why?

When no answer is immediately forthcoming, I drop the phone onto the side table and slowly sift through the folds of the duvet. I don't feel like getting up, but the sun is shining too brightly into the room. There's no way I can go back to sleep now.

The bleep again. I groan aloud and sit up.

Gabi and Tessa must have talked about me, because this time the message is from Tessa. Haven't heard from you in ages!!!

I smile despite myself. Tessa always has the habit of texting like a drunk person.

Sorry, I type back. I've been bad at replying messages lately.

That's not an excuse!!

This time, I laugh aloud. This is so Tessa.

I don't realise there are also tears until I taste the saltiness. And suddenly I'm bent over, face pressed into the duvet that's muffling my sobs. I miss them. Now that things are falling apart between me and Aksel, I miss them even more than before.

I need my friends.

I don't know how long I spend curled over like this, but eventually a noise rouses me from my pity party. I sit back up, my vision still wet, and hit the 'answer' button on my phone without thinking too much.

"Emi, if you stop replying again, I swear..."

Tessa voice is so loud that I can hear it even though the earpiece isn't anywhere in the vicinity of my ear. I find myself laughing. I reach over and hit the loudspeaker button.

"I was going to reply," I say.

"Emi." Gabi's gentler voice filters through the speaker on my phone. I didn't realise it was a three-way phone call. In a way, though, I'm glad both of them are here. Their differing personalities balance each other out. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Tessa chips in. "You sound... off."

I blink, bemused, at the phone for a moment, then clear my throat. "Everything's fine."

There's a silence, as if they don't believe me.

In that moment, I change my mind. "Okay, no, everything's not fine."

"I knew it!" Tessa exclaims.

"Tessa..." I hear the exasperation in Gabi's voice and guess that it's been something they've discussed. I don't know whether to be touched or offended that my friends have been talking about my wellbeing behind my back. "What's wrong, Emi?"

"It's Aksel." Judging from the sudden lack of sound on the other end, I can tell that they weren't expecting that.

Once Tessa gets over her surprise, though, she immediately takes my side. "What did he do?"

I smile a little at her loyalty. "It's not him. It's me."

"How can it be you?" Tessa sounds affronted. Gabi, on the other hand, doesn't say anything.

"I..." I try to think of a way to describe everything that's gone wrong between us – and come up short. In the end, I say, "I think I hurt him very badly. It's been a really stressful time trying to learn Finnish, and I... Well, I told him that I hate his language. That I don't want to learn it or be here anymore."

Once again, there's a silence as my friends digest what I've just said.

"Ouch," says Tessa finally.

"You know, Emi," Gabi speaks up, but I can hear the hesitation in her words, "I did notice something when you guys were in Hamburg."

That catches my attention. "What was it?"

"He was really quiet. And I know–" she rushes to clarify, before the rest of us can say anything– "He's not very outspoken usually, but it was different that time. He seemed... sad."

"I didn't notice anything," Tessa counters.

"You never notice anything," Gabi sighs.

I giggle a little. That's true. A dinosaur could walk right past her and Tessa wouldn't notice it. Her lack of observation skills are only second to, apparently, my own. I hadn't noticed anything wrong with Aksel either – that was why our talk by the harbour that day had come as such a nasty shock.

"I didn't notice anything either," I admit, "But after we left you guys, we had a talk."

"About?" This is Tessa.

"About how I'm not adapting well in Helsinki. He said we could move to Hamburg instead."

Gabi says, "And what did you say?" just as Tessa exclaims, "Are you moving back? That would be great!"

"I told him no," I say.

"Why not?" Tessa huffs.

"Because he loves Helsinki. He moved here from Oulu after uni because he's always wanted to live here. I can't make him move to Hamburg for me."

"You moved to Helsinki for him," Gabi points out. "You'd never even thought about Finland before you met him."

And look how well living in Finland is doing for me, I think to myself. But I don't say it. Instead, I say, "It's different for me. I didn't live in Hamburg because it was my dream."

"No, it's just your home," Tessa counters. "And I don't care what you say about not feeling like you belong or whatever. It's still home for you."

"It's not 'or whatever'," I say, but without any heat.

Tessa huffs and starts to say something, but Gabi speaks over the beginnings of our usual squabble. "Emi, what are you going to do?"

"What about?" I ask, just to buy some time.

"About your relationship. And living in Helsinki."

I shrug, even though I know they can't see it. "I don't know."

"You have to talk to him, Emi," Gabi reminds me gently.

I press my lips together. "He's the one who doesn't want to talk to me anymore." I have to blink back tears. "He said..."

Tessa lets out a growl that sounds vaguely feral. If I weren't used to her by now, I might think that she had a pet. "Oh, come on. He's your boyfriend! Make him talk to you."

I laugh at her tone. "I worry for Jonas, I really do."

I can almost hear her eye roll over the phone lines. "He's lucky to have me and he knows it."

"Yes, because you never let him forget it for a second," Gabi chortles.

"Okay, okay," Tessa makes a noise of exasperation, "If we're done making fun of me now... Emi, fix this thing between you and Aksel. You two are too much relationship-goals to fall apart like that."

"We don't have a perfect relationship," I say.

"Nobody does," Tessa points out. "But we all work at it."

"Right." Gabi is with her on that. "Look, it's taking you time to adjust to living in Helsinki. Or maybe you should just move back to Hamburg instead – I don't know. But the important thing is to make everything right with him first. It's not him versus you. You two are supposed to be a team."

"Yeah. I know." I look down at my lap, where I'm fiddling with a bit of lint that has come loose.

"So start acting like it!" Tessa exclaims. "Talk to him."

***

It's easier said than done. Ever since the big fight – or perhaps I shouldn't call it that, considering it was less of a fight and more of me puking up verbal insults all over him – Aksel hasn't said much to me. I rarely even see him anymore, because he's always out somewhere by the time I'm up.

But my friends are right. I do need to talk to him. I need to apologise properly and tell him that I hadn't meant any of it.

I almost text him saying, We need to talk, but it rings too much of ominousness. I don't want him coming into the conversation with negative expectations. I don't want him to think I'm breaking up with him. I'm afraid that he might even welcome it, at this point.

Instead, I send him a text that goes, What are you up to?

He opens the message – I see the read receipt – but doesn't reply. I put the phone away, blinking slowly.

Maybe he doesn't want to text. I can just talk to him tonight.

I feel the pressure pressing against the back of my eyes, but I'm determined not to drown in self-pity now. Aksel will be going to that festival with the gang today. There's no way I'm showing up unannounced and unwelcome, but maybe I can go to somewhere in the neighbourhood. I do want to catch a glimpse of the festival for myself.

That's how I end up at a café across the street from the railway station.

It's a cosy place with an unpronounceable name, but I choose a table that allows me to look out of the window to see the bustling area at the park where the festival is taking place. All over the area, there are banners and portable structures with the festival name emblazoned across. But even without those, it's obvious there's something special going on there. A huge crowd has already formed.

The thought of pushing through all those people isn't appealing at all. I probably won't check out the festival after all. It's silly to go alone, anyway. It's good enough that I've seen what it looks like.

I turn away from the window and start laying out my books and papers. I've come armed with a plan. I have my Finnish textbooks and all the unfinished worksheets that I've accumulated since the start of the class. I'm going to get something done today.

Maybe when I get caught up and go back to class, Aksel will see that I really am trying this time.

I've barely gotten started when a semi-familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Hei."

I look up with a start. Standing in front of me, clutching her Finnish textbooks to her chest, is Priscilla. The New Zealand girl from my Finnish class that I had wanted to befriend at the very beginning.

"I wasn't sure if it was you. But I saw you and I had to come over and... My name is Priscilla. We're from the same Finnish class, I think," she babbles. The smile she flashes me is wide, but I can see the corners of her lips tremble a little. Maybe she's not as self-assured as she appears to be.

"Yeah, I..." I clear my throat after hearing how croaky my voice sounds. "I know you."

"Do you..." She looks a little embarrassed, and the rest of the question comes out in a jumble. "Do you wanna sit together? I mean," she rushes to add, "I came here to do a little studying and I saw you here." She stops to make a sweeping gesture with one hand at my Finnish textbook. "I was thinking, maybe we could study together. That should be nice, right?"

I blink at her. She's watching me with wide, earnest hazel eyes. "Sure," I find myself saying. "That would be great."

She beams at me.

Suddenly remembering my manners, I gesture to the chair across from me. "Sorry, take a seat. I mean, if you want..."

"Oh, thank you!" She pulls out the chair, and I get up to put my books away, to clear a space for her.

"I'm Emilie," I say belatedly, realising that she might not know my name. "But everyone calls me Emi."

She stacks her books on the table before flouncing onto her seat. "I remember!" she divulges, smiling a little shyly at me. "We used to sit next to each other in class and I heard you introducing yourself in the first class. But then you stopped coming..." She trails off, as if unsure if it's something she should be bringing up.

"I've... had to deal with some things," I say. It's not much of a stretch – on top of my fracturing relationship with Aksel and my constant inability to settle in, I have been dealing with a lot. "I wasn't able to go to class for a while."

"Oh." Priscilla's brow is furrowed. I can tell she's curious, but she doesn't want to pry. "I hope everything is all right now."

I give a little laugh. "Yeah. Don't worry, everything's fine."

"That's great!"

Priscilla has a way of making her eyes light up that lets you feel as if she's genuinely happy for you. I smile at her in return, but I'm still a little wary. We've never spoken before now. Why is she being so friendly?

"I'm getting a coffee," Priscilla says. She casts a look at my half-finished tea. "And maybe a muffin. Would you like anything else?"

"Oh, no, thanks," I say. "It's okay, I'll just get a refill when I'm done."

With a smile at me, Priscilla flounces off in the direction of the counter. I turn back to my books, but I'm still thinking about her. She'd been nervous at first, but she had come up and spoken to me anyway. I wish I was more like her. Maybe that's why she seems so popular in class. She's friends with almost everybody, as far as I have seen.

Priscilla returns shortly, balancing a steaming mug and a plate with a muffin atop it in each hand. I help to clear away a space so that she can put both down.

"Thanks," she says gratefully, sliding back into her seat. "You want some? Feel free to try." She gestures towards the muffin. "It's blueberry."

"Thanks," I say, even though I know I'm not going to take any of her muffin. I feel awkward all of a sudden. I watch as Priscilla takes a bite out of the muffin, making appreciative noises as she does so. She's so... open with her emotions. I can't see myself ever doing that in front of a stranger.

"Do you come here to study often?" she asks me through the mouthful she has just taken. Then she giggles a little and covers her mouth while she finishes chewing. "Whoops, sorry. But I mean – I can never get any work done at home, so I prefer to study outside, in a café or something."

"Me too," I say, then forge on bravely, "Did you know that there's this thing called the 'audience effect'? People perform better when there are other people around to compete with. That's why it's more productive to work in a café than, say, at home."

Then I press my lips together, because maybe I've said too much all at once. We just started speaking. She probably doesn't want to hear about the useless trivia that I know.

But Priscilla is grinning at me. "Oh my gosh," she says, clapping her hands together. "Really? That's so fascinating! It makes total sense now. I can never get anything done at home, but then I come to a café and, suddenly, I can concentrate." She pulls her mouth into an astonished grimace, and I can't help but laugh at her expression.

"Okay, let's see..." She flips open her textbook, and I see that it is covered with scrawls and markings. It has obviously been well-used. I am almost ashamed of the pristine state of my own textbook. "Which chapter are you working on?"

I laugh nervously. "The very first one. I haven't exactly been studying, so I need a complete revision."

"Cool, then do you mind if we revise together? I need a bit of a refresher as well."

She must be saying this to be nice, but I nod, because it would make things a lot easier if she can go through the material with me.

She leans forward, "Let's start with this..."

We work diligently for a good half-hour before Priscilla sits back and stretches. I follow suit, shifting around in my hardback wooden chair to find a more comfortable position.

"Does your butt hurt?" Priscilla asks, "Because mine does."

I laugh. "Yeah," I admit. "I think I'm going to buy another cup of tea." I've finished mine long ago. Then, remembering my manners, I ask her, "Do you want anything?" It seems only fair, after all, after the way she offered to get me something at the beginning.

She waves a hand. "It's fine, thanks. I'm full from that muffin!"

When I come back with a new cup of tea – Earl Grey this time – I find that Priscilla has stood up and is standing over the table.

"Are you leaving?" I ask.

"What? Oh, no!" She shakes her head so vigorously, a few strands of curly hair fall over her face. She blows them off and explains, "I just needed to get out of my chair a bit – it's bad to be sitting that long."

"Oh." I would have been too self-conscious to do that. She really has a way to her. She doesn't seem to care if anyone stares at her at all. Of course, when I take a quick peek around, it seems nobody is paying her much attention.

We both settle back down at our table, me blowing on the surface of my steaming cup of tea. Priscilla is twirling a pen around her finger, waiting for me to be done.

"So," I begin, so that we won't be sitting in complete silence, "Do you have any study tips to share?"

"Hmm." She taps the pen lightly against her lips now, thinking. "Not really. But I do have a few things I do to try to improve my Finnish."

"What kind of things?"

"I journal in Finnish." Her face brightens as she shares this piece of information. She really likes Finnish. It's obvious – her eyes light up whenever she's talking about the language or the country, and she gets more animated, waving her arms around. I feel the familiar sinking feeling of failure. I wish I loved Finnish as much as she does.

"I write in my journal every night," she goes on. "It does help, you know. Writing down your thoughts in the language – you start to get into the zone after a while. Sometimes I even catch myself thinking in Finnish, just a bit!" She laughs.

"Thinking in Finnish," I repeat. "Wow. I can't imagine ever doing that."

"All you need is practice," she tells me seriously. "It'll come naturally after a while."

"My problem with Finnish is that it's a Uralic language," I admit. "Maybe my brain is too Germanic. Even Swedish makes more sense to me. Finnish, though..." I spread my hands to show my frustration.

Priscilla leans forward, as if divulging a secret. "To be honest," she says in a whisper, "I sometimes read the Swedish words on the packaging at the supermarket."

I'm so surprised, I laugh aloud. "Are you serious?" I exclaim. "That's what I do, too!"

We both have a giggle over this.

"It is way easier, isn't it? It even looks like English sometimes." Priscilla lets out a dramatic sigh. "Why in the world are we learning Finnish? It's, like, the most difficult language in the world."

"I know," I commiserate. Finally. Finally, here's someone who also feels it. It's like a burden lifted off my entire being. Someone else understands.

"But your boyfriend is Finnish, isn't he?" she inquires innocently. "Doesn't he help you study, or something? You're so lucky, I swear – I know this sounds so mercenary, but sometimes I wish I had a Finnish boyfriend, just so I'd have someone to teach me everything I need to know about the language and culture!" She laughs, so that I know she's joking.

Or half-joking. There is probably a little bit of truth hidden beneath her levity.

I shrug, and mumble down at the table. "I don't know. It's not that simple."

I don't want to talk about Aksel, or how lucky I ought to feel. Priscilla seems to read my change in mood and turns the topic in a different direction. Unfortunately, it's one that also reminds me of Aksel and our deteriorating situation.

"Do you know about the Kaupunkifestivaali? It's happening right over there Kaisaniemenpuisto and the Central Railway Station." Priscilla turns to point out the window, but I already know what she's talking about.

I recognise the name of the World Village Festival when I hear it, even though Aksel didn't call it by its Finnish name. But I've seen the word on the banners outside. There's also something about the word kaupunki that tickles my brain. It seems familiar for some reason.

Maybe my brain is finally starting to absorb some Finnish words.

"Yeah, I saw the banners," I tell Priscilla now.

"Have you already been? I've seen the programme and it looks really interesting."

I shrug, a little uneasy now. "I actually wasn't planning to go," I admit.

"Oh!" She looks confused for a moment, likely wondering why I'm not going with my Finnish boyfriend. But she bounces back quickly. "You know Zuzi, Ludo, and Frederik, don't you? From our class? We're going to check it out together later. We were going to go tomorrow, but Ludo will be going to Tallinn and Zuzi has something else going on. So we're going to drop by later this afternoon. That's why I'm here to get some studying done before I meet up with them."

It's my turn to say, "Oh." I don't know how to respond to this flood of details about people I barely know.

She smiles brightly at me. "You know what? You should join us. You'll come, won't you? It'll be fun!"

Ridiculously, I feel tears start to form in my eyes. This is a real invitation, not like the bone Aksel threw me. I blink hard to keep my emotions at bay. "I don't know... I mean," I add quickly, when I see her face fall. "I'd love to, but won't the others mind?"

Priscilla flicks her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Pshaw! Of course they won't mind. The more the merrier, right?"

Her brimming enthusiasm is slightly contagious. I find myself smiling at her.

"Sure. I'll come."