I inhale deeply the scent of sheets that aren't my own and turn around, my body sinking deeper against the mattress. I shouldn't feel so at ease in a bed that is not mine, but the scent all over it and the familiarity of the room make me feel safe.

Reality has still not sank in, even if the room decorations stare at me and remind me I don't belong to this bed. It's been long enough for me to accept the new reality, but I refuse to see this as anything but a long slumber party. Soon, my parents will come and pick me up.

And then there's Nina. Nina, who I do not want to leave but who I can't even look in the eye. Nina, who makes my stomach twist with a simple smile. I don't know what to make of it. I just know I can't stay here for long. She might have agreed with this arrangement now, but I'm sure she'll get annoyed with my permanent presence soon enough.

Mustering all my remaining courage, I push the duvet away and get up. I find Nina in the kitchen making breakfast. It's a shock to find her nest of blankets on the sofa empty. She always out-sleeps me.

"Good morning," she beams as soon as she sees me. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," I mumble, standing awkwardly at the entrance. This is weird. Usually I eat something while she is sleeping and get done with it, but we never had breakfast at the same time. It's strange enough to be in her place and having breakfast there, but now we're actually awake at the same time.

"I'm making pancakes. Do you want some?" she asks.

I frown. "Pancakes?"

That sounds like a lot of work for someone who would rather spend her day lazying around. One thing that always surprises me about her is that she does things and invests in doing them. I'm blinded by this first impression of her and again and again she shatters it.

Usually, I enjoy knowing there's so much to her. Adding new pieces to the puzzle that is Nina has become my favourite thing. Pushing my own insecurities away and trying to see her for who she was and not for who I am afraid she is. Yet, this faint reminder that I don't know her as well as I wish makes me feel even more unwelcomed in her apartment.

"I overcooked a few, but most are still good," she adds.

"You mean you burnt them?"

"No. Burnt would be the next stage. These are... toasted."

"So you burnt them," I repeat.

She rolls her eyes. "Do you want some or not?"

"Not the toasted ones."

I sit in front of her at the table. As we eat, I keep my eyes on the plate. She's silent too, and I keep myself from glancing her way. Things have been like this for too long. She acts as if nothing happened and that makes it worse.

Are we never going to address it? The elephant in the room. The one thing we should seriously talk about. I sure won't. She knows I won't. Why doesn't she? She's the one who should. She's the one who's comfortable talking about... those things. Then why doesn't she? Did I imagine it? Are we not on the same page? Is it just me? Does she not feel the same?

"I'm thinking about visiting my parents soon," she blurts. "I haven't seen them since we got locked in, and I should. You'd get the apartment all to yourself."

I feel all the air escaping from my lungs. A weight crushes my chest and I have to grip the table so I don't start twisting my rings, or the lack of them. She's actually leaving me. She doesn't want to be here with me. This was all a terrible idea.

"Okay," is all I can say.

"But just after you get everything sorted with your parents," she adds. "I don't want you here all alone if they try anything."

I nod. That thought has haunted me for long. Yesterday I should've arrived home with all my belongings. Soon, someone will come to check on me and I am afraid of what they'll do. I've never been in this situation before. All I've ever known were threats I never tested the veracity of. I fear they target Nina above everything else.

"Okay."

"Is that all?"

I nod.

"Is something wrong?"

I shake my head. "Not at all."

"Then why are you acting like that? Are you okay?"

I nod once more.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"I know."

"Then... talk?" She stares at me. "You're obviously not okay."

I shove a piece of my pancake in my mouth to buy myself some time. It's a mystery to me what she wants to hear. And I don't know what to tell her. I can't unravel the mess in my mind or explain the heaviness in my chest.

"Giada?" she insists.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"You can go back to bed."

I shake my head. "It's your bed. I shouldn't even be sleeping in it."

Nina rolls her eyes, just as she did when we first had this argument. I told her I was fine sleeping on the couch, but she refused to and now we are in this weird arrangement. It makes no sense to me. I'm the one crashing here because I have nowhere else to go. Her reasoning about being used to sleeping on the couch is plain ridiculous. I told her that, but she ignored me, as expected.

"Get used to it."

"I shouldn't," I mutter. "It's yours. Everything here is yours. I'm just intruding."

"I'm pretty sure half of the clothes in the closet are yours." She shrugs. "And that weird ticketing thing. Should I ticket everything that is yours so you see the ratio is pretty balanced?"

"I'll try job hunting today," I assure. "I swear I won't be a nuisance to you."

"What you should do is take all the money from the account daddy controls before he aspirates it all out," she complains for what might've been the twentieth time since I moved in. "And make one only you have access to since we're at it."

"Isn't that robbing him?"

She shrugs. "Is it? It has your name on it."

"If he tries to take legal action-"

"Than he does. It's fine. My mum does pro bono sometimes."

I close my eyes and take a breath before facing her again. It's becoming hard to look at her when all she does is save me and I just sit here, doing nothing for myself. My parents were right, I'm weak. I can't even emancipate myself without someone else doing everything for me. But I blame them for keeping me sheltered, for making me incapable of taking care of myself.

"Nina, that's enough. I'll pay for my own lawyer with my own money after I get a job. You don't need to hold my hand all the time."

She shrugs again. "Sure. But if you need help, my mum enjoys telling people to fuck off."

"Thank you, but I can do this."

She nods. "So, what's on the cards for today? Shall I get the mayo jar?"

"I'm going to throw that jar out of the window if you ever bring it out again," I threaten.

"You can't. You'll leave shards of glass on the street. That's vandalism and you'll get fined," she points out. "And last time I checked, you don't have a lawyer."

I roll my eyes. "I'll say it was you."

"Sure, but I have a lawyer and you don't."

Instead of replying, I leave her smiling to herself and start doing the dishes. These kinds of exchanges almost make me forget the chaos that is my life right now. Almost.

I spent my morning looking through job offers on the internet, but I'm too unqualified to have much of a choice. Jobs like waitressing and cashier have taken a toll after the quarantine and no one needs a new employee. In some ways, I'm thankful because I would almost immediately get fired for stuttering while taking orders. Either way, there are more people being laid off than being hired.

"How's that going?" Nina asks at some point. She's laying on the couch, watching a movie.

"Difficult."

She sits up and looks at me. "Are you looking for work from home?"

I raise a brow. "What?"

"You know, stuff you can do from home. There's lots of stuff. I think"

I shake my head. "I don't understand anything about computers. And I am unqualified for most stuff."

She seems to think about it for a moment. "But you speak Italian."

"Yes..." I say, failing to comprehend where she was getting at.

"There are those online language courses. They're always looking for people to teach."

"That's... not a bad idea." But that can't be all.

I'm about to keep searching when Nina interrupts me again. "You know, when you moved in, I was really hoping you were going to bake me cakes."

I roll my eyes at her. "Was that the only reason you invited me?"

"Obviously," she replies with a sly smile. "I wouldn't mind something sweet today."

"Well, I am busy. Do it yourself."

She looks at me with puppy eyes for a moment, but then seems to change her mind about convincing me and gets up. "Yeah, I have nothing better to do, anyway."

I keep searching for job offers as she destroys the kitchen. She's quite loud as she moves around, hitting spoons and bowls around. I can tell her to stop, that the constant noise of the mixer is making it hard to focus, but I keep quiet.

Giving up on my task, I peek into the kitchen. "Do you want help?"

She's reading a recipe on her phone but turns to me quickly. "Ahhh.... Yeah. Can you get the sugar from that cabinet?"

"We're in luck. You still have sugar," I joke, making her smile a little. I get on my tiptoes to reach the sugar and feel around the cabinet with my right hand. "I can't reach it."

Truth be told, I can't even see it, but I'm trusting it's here. I didn't want to ask for help, but I found the words escaping from my mouth before I could stop myself. "I can't" was never something I found particularly enjoyable to say.

"Move," she says, touching me lightly on the shoulder to guide me away. I turn around, facing her, and she nods with her head to the side, telling me to get off the way, but I don't. She stares at me expectantly, and I stare back, my throat getting dry. I should do as she said, but I'm breathless at how close she is.

"I- um..." I start, but the words die in my mouth.

She steps closer, her body maybe an inch away from mine. Air flows harshly through me. Too little of it. The sound is loud in my ears, and I hope she can't hear it. My body goes rigid in anticipation, as if my brain can't command me to move. Then she lifts her arm way above me and brings the sugar down.

"Oh," escapes my lips as she's about to step away.

"Oh?" she repeats, stopping. "What's wrong?"

My cheeks turn crimson, and I look away. My hands find my rings, instantly twisting and turning. She's still too close and now I don't know what to do about that.

"What's wrong?" she repeats,

I shake my head. "Nothing's wrong. Why would something be wrong?"

I can't help thinking how stupid I am. She doesn't want anything to do with me. That's why she hasn't brought up what we said the other day. It was all me this whole time.

"Are you cold?" she asks, holding my hands apart before I can keep on twisting. "You're trembling again."

I lock eyes with her, mustering all my courage to tell her I'm fine, but the strength dies out soon. She's not worried at all. She's fighting a smile, amused as usual.

"I hate it when you do that," I whisper.

"Do what?"

"You know what. You think this is funny."

"I wouldn't say funny, but if that's what you're going for," she muses.

I raise my head and hold her gaze. "What's this supposed to be, then? You're just going to keep on doing this and move on like nothing happened?"

"You're the one who didn't move," she said. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

I purse myself, staring at her. Why does she have to be so infuriating all the time? She knows what I mean, and yet refuses to acknowledge it, to acknowledge me. I hate this game.

"Is that how this is going to be?" I ask. "Why?"

She shrugs. "Giada, I'm trying to keep you as comfortable as I can. That's it. If there's something wrong, just say it."

"Are you serious right now? Do you think there's nothing wrong?"

Nina sighs and puts the sugar down next to me. "Look, I'm not trying to ruin a friendship. You just moved in and I can't have you go back running to your parents because I did something wrong. You deserve better than that."

"What friendship? You said it yourself. We're not friends."

She shakes her head. "Where are you going with this?"

"Nina, I-" The ringing of my phone interrupts me. I stare at the screen and freeze.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"It's my father."