On Thursday, I have an awful exam. I spent the past couple of days with my face buried in the books, extra focused and extra tired. My anxiety grew by the second and I partially blamed my afternoons at Nina's for how much I had slacked.

I hadn't spoken to her in a while. Determined to ace the exam, I forbade myself to reach out first. Or at all. But at the end of each day, I couldn't help but realise she hadn't texted or showed up unannounced as usual.

As the day darkened outside, I close my books and call it a day. I can't stop yawning and am getting hungry. The images of the frozen lasagna I have in storage are coming to mind too often.

As I am about to put it in the oven, a knock distracts me. I frown at the late hour, but go meet Nina outside, nonetheless. She is in pyjamas, as expected.

"Hi," she says with a shy smile.

"Hey. Wasn't expecting you," I tell her, as if I am ever expecting her.

"Yeah... I wanted to apologise. I brought you a present." She holds my hand and gives me a small sugar packet, like the ones for coffee. "It's an 'I'm sorry' gift."

I frown. "What?"

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable the other day. You're free to do whatever you want and I won't judge. Even if I'm not really a fan of you marrying someone."

I blink. "Oh, it's fine. I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

I shake my head. "Of course not. Why'd you think so?"

She stares at me in awe. "Well, you left so abruptly. And I overstepped, so... You're really not mad?"

"No." I laugh. "What's the sugar for?"

"Oh, I thought it was funny. 'Cause we met when you didn't have any."

I have to give it to her; it is a bit funny. But I felt bad for making her think I was mad. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts, get myself in order. If I knew she was distraught by how I left, I wouldn't have left at all.

"Why are you only coming now?" I ask. "This was ages ago."

"I wanted to give you space." She shrugs. "Also, we're having that romantic dinner. Consider this your formal invitation. Be ready in thirty."

My eyes widen. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Didn't you want to have a proper dinner? Well, I got it all figured out, so go get dressed."

Is she crazy? Thirty minutes? I still have to shower! And fix my hair! And find what to dress and... She's out of her mind!

"One hour," I counteroffer.

She scoffs. "Absolutely not."

"Fifty-nine minutes."

"Forty-five. Take it or leave it."

It'll have to be enough. Plus, I'm starving. The sooner we start eating, the happier I will be.

"Sure. Wait. Are you cooking?" I ask, distrustful.

"No," she says with an eye roll, "Amara is."

I sigh. "Leave the ghost jokes alone. Are you?"

"Of course I am. What kind of question is that? You said proper dinner."

"Since when do you cook?" I ask. All I've seen her eat are instant noodles and take out.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that. Especially since we made a pizza together. You got half an hour. See you later."

"Forty-five!" I almost scream after her as she goes back into her apartment.

And so, I run into the shower and try to make it as fast as possible. I watch the time pass as I try a thousand different outfits, each looking worse and worse than the previous. Is it possible that I have no cute clothes? Not a single dress that would make me gorgeous?

"AVERYYY," I cry into the phone. Thankfully, she answered right away.

"The dark blue one. And do a smokey eye. Simple on the lips. They don't want to kiss you if there's a chance they'll get lipstick all over them. Or gloss. Gloss gets your hair all stuck to your lips."

"It's Nina," I repeat.

"I meant every word."

I sigh. "I can't even do a simple eyeliner. How do you expect me to do a smokey eye?"

"YouTube tutorial." I'm not even going to bother telling her I have fifteen minutes left. "Keep your hair down. Enough with the bobby pins and what not. They make you look childish. You have too much of a baby face already."

"I do not!"

After the YouTube tutorial failed, everything else is going well. I think. At least I look good in the mid length dress she chose. I only put mascara on my lashes, as I don't dare try anything else and take even more time removing it.

By the time I make it to Nina's place, I'm late by three minutes. She doesn't comment on it and I'm too stunned to even say anything when I look at her.

I imagined she would wear a dress like the one she had in the picture with her sister. She looked stunning in it. Worst-case scenario, she would be in sweatpants. Yet, she stands in front of me in a grey, fitted suit that accentuates her shape. Even her hair is in a high ponytail, curled at the ends.

"I'm happy you bothered," I finally say, composing myself. "But what happened to the shoes?"

We both stare at her white socks and she smiles sheepishly.

"I don't know about you, but I learned not to wear shoes inside unless I wanted to get hit by a wooden spoon," she says. "Besides, I don't have any pretty shoes. I mean, I have one pair of heels, but do you really want me that much taller than you?"

"Absolutely not." It's enough as it is.

I take a few steps towards the table and admire all the work Nina put into making the dining room look so beautiful. I'm about to comment on it when I realise she's staring at me. Blood rushed onto my cheeks almost immediately.

"Do you like the dress?" I ask, looking at the wall.

"You know that scene with the yellow dress in 10 Days to Lose a Guy? Or literally any rom-com?"

I blink. "No.... Should I?"

"Of course you don't," she deadpans. "You look lovely tonight. And every day."

I'm not sure if it's possible for me to become more red, but I'm sure I just turned scarlet. I hope she doesn't notice, and nod towards the table to speed up the process.

We sit by the table, and I stare at my plate. Everything is neatly set, from the folded napkins to the tableware. This is a lot more than I had initially expected. This is a lot more than I had hoped for at all. It is absurd to me how she'd gone into such trouble just because I had one silly idea. Especially coming from Nina, who spent her days napping, if possible.

"Are you having dinner with me or with the plate?" she asks, making me look at her.

"Sorry... This is all really pretty. You didn't have to bother."

"Well, I didn't." She shrugs. "Bothering meant hunting the candles you wanted. I only did what I could with the things I had at home. It's hard to do more when you're stuck inside."

"You're the one who wanted the candles!" I complain, ignoring everything else. I don't care if she thinks it isn't hard. It is lovely as it was.

"Was I? Perhaps. Anyway, red or white?"

My eyes widen. I didn't know we were drinking. I'm a lightweight, and I don't want to say any gibberish to her. Although, I don't want to look weak either.

"Red is fine," I whisper, but she is frowning.

"Do you not like any?"

"I do. Red is fine," I repeat.

She accepts it and opens a bottle of wine of wine for us, filling each cup. I make a mental note to keep up with her and to not let her make fun of my little interest in alcoholic beverages. If I get my way, she won't even notice.

As we dine, I tell her all about my upcoming exam and how worried I am about it. She soothes my fears, tells me I still have time and everything is going to be okay. We talk about her own academic issues, but she doesn't seem bothered. I wonder how, since I've never seen her study. The conversation flows nicely about the most mundane things.

"Did you solve the issue with your aunt?" I ask.

"I think so. Rosie called, said mum found it all stupid but funny. I still haven't talked to her, but I think she's not as mad as I imagined."

"How long has it been? Since you talked to your parents."

"With my mum? A month, maybe. With my dad? Just last night," she explains. "And you?"

I scoff. "Oh, I don't know... Christmas, maybe?"

She blinks. "We weren't in lockdown back then."

"They're not very communicative people. Like your mum."

She fills her glass a third time and nods towards mine. I push it towards her and let her fill it up. If she keeps going, I keep going. Although I'm feeling dizzy.

"My mum is not that cold. We just clash a lot. We learned to give each other space until we were cool headed enough to discuss things rationally," she explains. "She's a lot tighter with Rosie, though. I don't think she even realises it."

My heart clenches with that thought. I know what it is like feeling as if we're the second best child. I didn't have a sibling to be compared to, but my parents made sure I knew I had a role model to follow so I would fit their expectations. First, it was my mother's own acting career. When that failed, Jackie's perfect life became the standard.

"Do you hate her for it?" I ask without thinking.

She raises an eyebrow. "My mum?"

"No. Rosie."

She shakes her head. "Of course not. She's my sister. Plus, I won with dad. I'm pretty sure he likes me best."

She looks amused at the thought. I find it weird. If I could, I'd want both of my parents loving me the same. But the way things go, I'd be happy if even only one did.

"I hate my cousin Jackie sometimes," I confess. "She's always been great to me. One of my best friends. But every time my parents tell me to be like her, I hate her. Does that make me a bad person?"

She shakes her head curtly. "Why is it wrong with it? Maybe you don't even hate her, just the standard represents."

She's right. I hate the constant comparison. I hate how awful my parents make me feel about not accomplishing their goals. But Jackie is such a great friend. We used to be so close, and now I let it all go to waste.

"Do you ever think you're-" I stop myself, catching her gaze. I was going to ask her about feeling like being born was a mistake. About knowing you're just a disappointment. But I know she doesn't feel that way, and I don't want her to know I feel it.

"Think what?" She nudges me with her foot, urging me on.

"Nothing. You wouldn't get it."

She scoffs. "No trust, as usual. Should I bring out dessert?"

I stare at her, my throat dry. She's already moved on. She's piling the plates to take to the kitchen, and doesn't even look at me.

"It's not like that."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, whatever you say, but you don't trust me at all."

I shake my head. "I trust you."

"No. It wasn't a question. You don't trust me," Nina says, calm eyes on me. "But why? Why do you always think I won't get it? Why do you always think I'm going to mock you if you show weakness?"

My cheeks turn scarlet at the reminder of our first fight. I try to hide it, but I can't help these thoughts that she will make fun of me. She's done nothing to confirm my fears, and yet I can't let go.

"Because you don't have any," I say before I can stop myself. "And because you're perfect. I'm not. You're the exact type of person who would laugh at my expenses."

She puts the plates back on the table too hard. "I'm trying, you know? I'm trying really hard to manoeuvre around those insecurities of yours, but nothing is enough. Have I ever given you any reason to think so poorly of me?"

I don't answer. I can barely look her in the eye.

"I'm always rethinking my words in case I say something that may make you run away. I'm always filtering. And no matter what, you still find ways to fault me. It's always the same reason, and it's getting exhaustive, you know?"

I keep quiet, and so does she. After a moment, she grabs the plates again and disappears to the kitchen, leaving me alone with my remorse. At the ends of the day, I will be the one driving her away. She'll just get tired and leave me.

"I'm sorry," I say when she gets back with a cheesecake.

Nina doesn't reply. She sits back down and empties her glass of wine in one gulp. Before I can say anything, she's filling it again and push mine towards her, waiting to see what she does. I don't want to drink anymore; I fear if I get up, I'll trip and fall. But I want to see if she'll bother serving me, if she'll ignore me.

"Nina, I'm really sorry," I repeat.

She ignores me. She fills my glass and hands it to me. I try to find her eyes, but when I do, my heart just palpitates harder. Her hard stare can only mean hate. This is it. She's done with me.

"Nina..."

"It becomes quite annoying when you care so much about someone and they don't even stop to think about your feelings," she says. "What do I care if you say sorry if nothing is going to change? You have your idea of me and that won't change. So I just need to get over it."

"No, Nina, I-" I don't know what to say. I stumble over my words, unsure of how to fix what I broke. "Don't get over it. Don't get over me. I never meant to be this much a piece of work. I know you don't mean me any harm, I just..."

"Got mocked a lot? Is that it? You got mocked by people who somehow remind you of me?"

"I mean, yeah... you're happy."

Her jaw drops to the floor. "And you're not? You got shitty parents, sure. But you got a life outside of that."

"A life they crafted."

She rubs her temples in annoyance. "Giada, you're not a child. Take your damned life back. It's yours. Tell them to fuck off."

"It's not that simple."

"Maybe it isn't, but it's not fair to me that you judge me for being apparently happier than you are."

I chew the inside of my cheek and look down at my lap. My fingers have turned red from twisting my rings so hard.

"Do you hate me?" I ask quietly.

"Far from that. And that's why it hurts so much."

"I like you a lot, you know? I like being with you. It was never my intention to make you the villain. It just makes no sense that we're here and you haven't got bored of me yet."

She holds onto my hands, stopping me from further hurting myself. I look at her through the strands of hair falling in front of my eyes. She doesn't look as mad as she was before. I can't tell what she is thinking.

"I won't get bored of you. I like this. But I can't handle the distrusting and the constant fear I will judge you."

"You didn't even want to be my friend. You knew this wouldn't last."

"No, Giada. I hope it lasts." She pauses, thinking her words carefully. "You have friends, don't you? You're not afraid they'll mock you. I can be just like them, if you want me to."

No. I don't want her to be like Avery and Courtney. It's not the same. Why would she think it is? They're my childhood friends. We grew up together. They're the sisters I never had. Nina is... Nina is Nina.

"They defended me," I mutter. "They've always defended me from everyone else. There's no way they would be against me."

"And I wouldn't either. I couldn't."

"I know..."

"Do you?"

"I- You're really not going to get bored? Do you really like me?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm not... I'm not a likable person."

She tightens her grip on me. "Well, three people like you. I think that makes you likeable."

"Tolerable," I corrected. "Not likable. Not like you. You're pretty and you're so nice, and you care..."

She shakes her head. "I'm everything but likable. I'm the one with no friends, remember? You say I care, but I care about you only. And you're beautiful, okay? You're beautiful."

My lip quivers. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do."

"AJ thinks I have a baby face."

She presses her lips into a thin line to stop herself from laughing. "You have a pretty face."

I let go of her hands and get up to give her a hug. As soon as I take the first step, my head spins and I lose balance. I grab onto the table and straighten myself, ignoring the way she's smiling stupidly at me.

I'm about to tell her not to mock me, but I stop myself before another argument sprouts. "What are you smiling at?"

"You're just so cute."

She gets up to help me stand, and I hold on to her. She doesn't hug me back at first, but eventually wraps her arms around me. It's the longest hug I've ever had. I don't want to let go, and neither does she, so we just stand there.

"I don't want to be cute," I mutter against her shoulder.

"What do you want to be?"

"I don't know, but I'm not your teddy bear."

She chuckles. "Trust me, I know."

I let go slowly. "Thank you for all of this. I loved it."

"Me too. Let's try to keep the arguments to a minimum next time. Okay?"

"Okay."

I swear this past couple of chapters were supposed to be sweet, the characters just didn't agree with my outline.

How are we feeling about the characters and their way too frequent little discussions?

Things are about to get a little dramatic so hold tight.

Thank you so much for reading!