I wake up to the smell of cinnamon, sugar and eggs.

When I pad into the kitchen, I find Caden making French toast.

„Morning,“ he says and I check the clock. It's already past ten AM – way later than I usually get up.

„Hi,“ I say and take a peak into the pan.

„You're making breakfast.“

„Yeah.“

I get two plates and he serves the toast. My brother has always been the better cook out of the two of us.

„You were out last night?“ he asks, shoveling food into his mouth.

„Yeah.“

„With?“

He has this gleam in his eyes.

„You don't know her.“

„Like a date?“

„No. Not like a date,“ I say and then wonder.

If in doubt, it's not a date. But – well, I'm in doubt.

„Okay,“ Caden says, blinking at me.

„Do you want to watch some movies today?“ I ask him.

„I actually made plans with a friend.“

I frown.

„What friend? What plans did you make?“

Caden's mouth gets a fraction smaller.

„You don't know him,“ he says and I hate when he's flipping the table on me like that.

„Then tell me about him.“

Caden gives me a look. A look I know well and absolutely despise.

„He's just someone from college. We have almost all classes together.“

„What's his name?“

„Alex.“

„And what are your plans?“

„Can you stop?“

He puts his fork down.

„I'm just asking.“

„Yeah, well – stop.“

My eyes narrow.

„How's your cough?“

He scoots back on his chair, jaw set. Not looking at me.

„Fine. My cough is fine, Leah.“

With that, he gets up.

„When will you be back?“ I shout after him.

He pretends he didn't hear me.

I call Delilah when I'm sitting alone in my apartment on a Monday evening.

„You found it,“ she says and I don't know why I'm smiling.

„Apparently.“

„Cool. How are you?“

I look at a loose thread in the couch cushion.

„Good. And you?“

„Me too. Why aren't you working?“

„I'm off on Mondays.“

„That's cool.“

„What are you doing? Are you at college?“

There is a very short pause.

„No. I was just about to head to a coffee shop. Work on some applications. Do you want to join me?“

My heart stutters. I press my hand against my sternum.

It's a genetic thing, afterall. Maybe I should be worried.

„I don't really have anything to do at a coffee shop,“ I say.

I work and when I don't work, I'm at home. Watching movies with my brother.

„I'm sure you can come up with something,“ she says, putting on that flirty voice of hers.

„I mean – I suppose.“

„Brilliant. I'll text you the address.“

I'm not a coffee shop girl.

Maybe I would be if paying rent wouldn't hurt so much every single month.

„I'm buying,“ Delilah says as I'm scanning the menu for the cheapest beverage.

Of course, she picked out one of those modern places. All chic and cool and expensive as hell.

„Oh, no. I'll buy my own.“

She smiles at me.

„I want to treat you,“ she says and her fingers curl around my wrist, push my hand holding the wallet down.

„What would you like?“

„Just coffee.“

„Black?“

I nod. Delilah smiles at the barista and orders sugar with milk (disguising itself as coffee) and a black coffee for me. And cake.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Delilah drinks milkshakes and eats cake. I was tending toward assuming that she's one of the skinny-latté, salad-without-dressing and skipping-breakfast kind of people.

But she's not.

Probably just awesome genetics then.

Though it's not like Delilah would be thin, come to think about it – not really. She's just stunning.

„Is that a sketchbook?“ she asks me as we sit down on light-wooded tables.

I nod.

„So you're an artist?“

„No. I just sometimes draw to unwind.“

I used to draw a lot, back in highschool. But I don't really do it anymore.

„Can I see?“

„It's nothing special.“

I let her flip through the pages.

„Okay, your favorite animals are definitely birds,“ she says, smiling.

My mouth is a little dry.

„I just like drawing them.“

„Hm.“

She hands me my sketchbook back.

„Those are really good. I love the details.“

„Thank you.“

She gives me a smile and then pushes the coffee and cake toward me.

Maybe it should be strange how relaxed I feel working next to her – sharing cake with her. I'm not very used to feeling relaxed around people. I'm relaxed around Caden and Anne and that's about it.

„What are you drawing?“ Delilah asks me when the cake is finished.

„A house,“ I say.

She peers at the paper.

„Wow. That's cool.“

„It's just a house.“

„A cool house.“

It seems like she's done with her application because she closes her laptop. But she doesn't make a move to leave, so I don't either.

„Do you miss Boston?“ I ask her.

She shrugs.

„Not much. I like New York.“

„What about your friends?“

Delilah dodges the question with a light shrug and a: „They're fine. We're texting. What about your friends?“

„What do you mean?“

„Tell me about them.“

She looks at me and I notice the very faint trace of golden eyeliner she's wearing.

„I don't really have friends,“ I say.

Maybe that was stupid. I don't want her to think I'm weird – even though I am.

„I don't believe that.“

I shrug.

„My best friend is my brother. And then there are my coworkers. That's it.“

She frowns.

„What about your friends from highschool?“

I trace the handle of my mug.

„I don't know. We kind of... grew apart after highschool.“

Delilah just keeps looking and I hear myself continuing.

„I was – quite the rebel, in highschool. Completely different. You wouldn't recognize me.“

She smiles with half of her mouth.

„What were you like?“

„I'd wear high boots and ripped denim jackets. I cut my hair once. And dyed it black.“

Delilah laughs and I can see she's trying to picture it.

„Do you have a photo?“ she asks.

My eyes widen and I shake my head.

„Nope, I definitely do not.“

„Pity,“ she says.

„Anyway, I was mostly hanging with the other outsiders and we weren't – we were just convienient to each other.“

I think about how no one was ever really there when it mattered.

„I wasn't sad to lose them after gradutaion,“ I finally say.

Delilah blinks.

„Friends can be real assholes,“ she says.

„That's true.“

I'm a little shocked I just told her all that.

„Good thing we're friends now,“ she says, grinning at me.

I blink. My heart stumbles again. My stomach – it feels like it would try to perform a backflip.

„I've only known you for two days, really.“

„Three days.“

„Fine.“

„I need friends here,“ she says.

„Asshole friends?“

„Are you an asshole?“

„Totally,“ I say seriously.

Delilah laughs loudly. I can't help but stare at her.

„Me too,“ she says.

When I get home, I find Caden asleep on the couch.

It's five PM.

I stand there looking at him for a minute or so, then go to my room to change into sweats.

Caden doesn't wake while I'm cooking dinner. When I'm done, I shake his shoulder. It takes me a while to wake him up.

„Dinner's ready,“ I tell him and he blinks up at me, apparently trying to find back to reality.

„Oh. Thanks,“ he says.

Then he coughs.

I swallow.

„It's just soup,“ I say.

We're eating together and I ask about Alex, his new friend. The friend I've never even seen.

I know I should be glad that Caden is trying to be social again. Since Adrian left, there wasn't really anyone.

I never told Caden, but I think Adrian is the best thing that has ever happened to him. He was around so often, even I miss him.

Even though I've always been jealous of them.

I used to watch them laughing together on the couch or sharing a look at the dinner table and there was this tiny twist in my stomach.

Whenever Caden casually mentioned Adrian in a conversation about – anything, really, I tried not to listen too closely.

It's not easy watching such a bond and having to realize that you have nothing of the sort. Not even close.

„You seem tired,“ I say.

Caden doesn't look at me.

„Classes were hard today.“

„I think we should go have a check-up.“

Caden grits his teeth and looks to the side.

„That's not necessary.“

„I'd feel better.“

He gives me a look. His eyes are huge and dark and his lashes gorgeous. I wonder why I didn't get those.

„Leah, I don't need to go to the doctor, okay? Everything's fine.“

„Are you sure?“

„Oh my God. Yes. I'm fine.“

I drop my spoon and stare at him.

„I don't believe you.“

He takes a deep breath.

Then he reaches for my hand and squeezes it.

„Stop worrying about me so much, Leah. I hate it.“

„Someone has to,“ I say.

He shakes his head.

„No one has to. Life is good. I've met a new friend. You've met a new friend. Everything's okay.“

He smiles at me and I don't think I can describe the effect of one of his smiles. I'm not sure if it's Caden or the fact that he is my baby brother, but when he smiles like that, I always cave.

„Alright,“ I say. „But you tell me when something's not right. Understand?“

He grins and solemnly nods.

„Will do.“

„So that's your home,“ Delilah says, already looking around as she's setting foot over my doorstep.

I nod, having a hard time to keep my hands still.

Delilah is wearing short-shorts and not a lot of make up and she's standing in my apartment.

I wonder if this was a mistake – to invite her here. But it was her who asked and I didn't want to say no.

Maybe part of me wants her here.

„Where's your brother?“ she asks.

„With his friend.“

She runs her fingers over my kitchen table. Her nails are painted in a girly rosé.

„Are you hungry?“ I ask.

I don't know her schedule, but she strikes me as a girl that wouldn't have already eaten breakfast at eleven on a Sunday morning.

„I could eat,“ she says and smiles at me.

„Sweet or savory?“

She gives me a look.

„Always sweet.“

I rummage through the pantry, hoping I have everything I need for pancakes and feel her presence like something palpable.

„For how long have you lived here?“

She hops on the counter, long legs dangling down, hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward.

„I've had this for three years now. My brother moved in with me when he started college last fall,“ I say, mixing the batter.

„I like it,“ she says.

„Me too.“

It's not the best and the tabs might be leaking, but it's mine.

„I have bananas. If you'd like some with your pancakes,“ I say.

Delilah smiles at me and nudges my leg with her foot. I almost drop the spatula.

„Yes, I'd like some,“ she says. „You sound very sophisticated.“

I glance at her sideways.

„For a hairdresser, you mean?“

She bites her lip.

„You like maple syrup?“ I ask before she can start defending herself.

„Please.“

When I start baking the pancakes, Delilah slides down from the counter and comes up behind me, one hand on my shoulder.

„Looks good,“ she says.

I can feel her breath on my ear.

„Do you cook?“ I ask her.

„No, not really. Not at all.“

I smile. It would have really surprised me if she did.

„What? You think I'm a spoiled brat?“

There is laughter in her voice, just a little.

„Kind of?“

She laughs and puts her hand on my shoulder again.

„Well, I am.“

We eat the pancakes on my couch and I ask Delilah about acting school and the way her face lights up when she talks about it has me forgetting my pancakes. They're cold when I remember to pick up my fork again.

„Do you sing too?“ I ask her.

Delilah smiles.

„I do. And dance. I'm the perfect allrounder, Leah.“

„Impressive,“ I say and make it sound ironic, even though it's not.

„Do you sing?“

„I do not sing.“

„You can't or you don't?“

„I don't.“

„That's a lie.“

She grins at me and steals a piece of banana from my plate. As if we'd be best friends. As if she'd known me forever.

„Okay, sometimes I do. But only when I'm alone.“

„Shower or car?“

There is a little bit of maple syrup stuck to her bottom lip. I can't quite look away.

„Both. I don't drive very often. Do you have a car?“

„Not in New York,“ she says and finishes her pancakes.

I wonder how rich she is. I know she's rich, but I'm starting to think she might be really rich.

„What do you think of some Netflix and Chill?“ she asks me and I pause for a moment.

She probably doesn't mean it like that. Probably just joking.

„Sure.“

I thought Delilah would most likely love romantic movies, maybe some highschool series. I took her for a Legally Blond girl.

But it turns out that she actually loves mystery – like I do.

„You don't like romance?“ I ask her after the third episode.

We're lying next to each other on our stomachs, her shoulder and hip touching mine.

„Sometimes I do. I love Sex and the City. But not always.“

She smells like sugar and roses and something sharp. I find myself leaning closer, my nose almost brushing her hair.

I think she smiles.

„Another one?“ she asks and I nod, already drawn back again.

We're in the middle of the episode when my phone rings.

I blink, disoriented in the dark. It's so late already.

„Hello?“

„Miss Jones?“

„Yes?“

It's the hospital.

I'm up before they've hung up and Delilah blinks at me, irritated.

„Everything okay?“ she asks.

„My brother's in the hospital.“