I don't know if you guys care but lately I've been putting the song I happen to be listening to while I write each chapter so you can have the same feels and vibe that I do! They're not always relevant to what's going on but idk it's just what I'm listening to I guess lol.

"And then she fell straight into the pool, it was hilarious!" My dad laughs, red in the face, as he tells a story from my childhood and Dakota is eating it up.

"Don't listen to him." I roll my eyes, standing up from my seat at the table, the legs scratching against the floor with a small squeak. "He's the one who tripped me." I shoot my dad a playful glare as I gather all three of our plates from dinner.

"Oh way to go Mister P." Dakota laughs, giving my father a high five.

After making me some surprisingly delightful coffee (even though all he did was mix my creamer in for me), Dakota offered to help me cook dinner before my dad returned home from work. Apparently "cooking" to him means popping some frozen burritos in the microwave or preheating the oven and baking some pizza rolls so he wasn't much help.

I did let him cut the vegetables for the stir fry but I didn't let him anywhere near the stove. Even then I made sure to check on him every few minutes just so I knew he wasn't about to cut his finger off or something. Thank the Lord we made it through the entire meal preparation with all limbs still intact.

As I walk away from the dining room, the sound of deep chuckles fading, a small smile perks up my lips.

My dad seemed to have some weird connection with Dakota as soon as they both found out they share a great love for memes. I didn't even know my dad likes memes so there's that I guess. They both have a weird sense of humor which will either enhance or end up ruining my life.

I set the dishes into the sink, turning on the water as I grab the sponge. As I wash off each plate and utensil, I think of my plans for tomorrow and about what I'm going to get Symphony as a welcome home gift.

Her being gone these last few weeks has been odd and, like I've said before, I'm both sad and happy for the experience of separation. I just know that I'm going to have to catch her up on everything. It's like my life started getting exciting once I was on my own. I am, however, ready for her to be apart of this craziness with me.

"Hey stranger." I hear my dad's voice as he enters the kitchen, all of our water glasses in his hands, "Need a hand?"

I give him a thankful smile as he sets the clear glasses under the running water. "No, I'm okay. What are you and Dakota up to?"

"Well I was thinking that we might put that old pool table in the basement to some good use. Does Dakota play pool?" He asks just as Dakota waltzes in.

"Do I play pool?" He widens his arms as he mocks my dad's question, "Just you wait, Mr. Perkins."

"Oh, please, call me Walter." My dad pats Dakota's upper arm as he passes him, "And we'll see about that. I call stripes." He tells him before exiting the kitchen.

"I'll be right there Mr - I mean Walter. Just give me a minute." He smiles before his eyes glide over to me, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he approaches me.

I pretend to pay no attention, keeping my eyes on the task at hand as I rinse my last glass and set it aside, turning the water off.

"Hey." He says, stopping next to me.

"Hey." I respond, drying my hands off with a paper towel.

"Your dad is pretty cool." He tells me, turning to lean his back against the counter as I face the sink, tossing the used towel into the trash.

"Yeah he's alright." I smile, meeting his eyes to see that they've been on me the whole time. My face reddens slightly as I fight to hold his gaze. "Aren't you going to play pool or something?" I ask him.

Dakota's head ducks, his hair flopping into his forehead slightly. I make a mental note that he needs a haircut but it almost looks better this way. It suits him and his unruly personality. "Yeah I am. I just wanted to come and say thank you for inviting me over. I've had a lot of fun and your family is great." His head lifts to give me a dimpled smile. Since when does he have dimples? I guess since I've started paying attention.

"If by my family you mean just me and my dad, thank you. Your's is great too." I reply, moving to lean on the island, facing him.

"Thanks." He chuckles, pushing before looking at me sideways, "Lillian?"

"Yes?"

He looks at me with a serious expression, no smirk and no mischievous glint in his green eyes and it almost shocks me. My curiosity heightens as he presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts, before saying, "You know that all those jokes I make about you and me are just...you know - jokes, right?"

My smile falters a little bit and I blink a few times. "Um...yeah. Yes, of course I know that. Don't worry about it."

His brows pull together before kicking off the counter, stepping closer to me. "Wait no...I - I didn't mean it like that. What I'm trying to say is that I...well I like you. Like, a lot. And I only say the things I do because you're not like any girl, or person for that matter, I've ever met and...well, I'm glad we met. I don't ever mean to make you uncomfortable." Dakota tells me, the dim light from the island behind me lighting up his tanned skin.

I stand there, looking at him. I'm not sure what to say because my mind hasn't fully processed it. Like I've concluded before, Dakota seems to jump into everything headfirst while I'm still waiting behind him still contemplating my last move.

"Thank you." Is all I can say as I mentally slap myself.

"That's all you're going to say?" Dakota chuckles but I can see his bright eyes dim a little and my chest tightens.

I step forward, meeting him halfway as my hands grab one of his on before I can even thinking about it. "Dakota...I have to be honest with you."

"That would be nice." His usual crooked smile makes a sadder appearance.

I close my eyes, bracing myself. "I think you're an amazing guy and I'm really happy that I met you too. But it's okay been two weeks and I'm just not in a hurry to start anything, I'll be honest and say that I'd love to hang out more and get to know you better. And you don't make me uncomfortable." I smile at him softly.

Dakota licks his lower lips slightly as he sighs, looking down at me. He pulls his hand away from my grasp and my heart deflates a little before his other hand comes up and they both cup my face. "Friends it is then. I look forward to knowing you, Lillian Perkins." He tells me a cheeky smile before kissing my forehead and pulling away, walking out to meet my dad in the basement.

I stand there, speechless, my cheeks on fire. My lower lips roll into my teeth, biting down to contain my smile. My fingers come up to touch the spot he sweetly kissed. I shake my head, telling myself to snap out of it before shuffling out of the kitchen to watch my dad and my new friend play pool.

✰✰✰

My alarm doesn't even have to wake me up on Saturday morning. I sit up in with with a smile on my face which is a very unusual occurrence but today is a very good day already.

Symphony texted me last night informing me that her flight lands at eleven in the morning and she should be home from the airport around twelve thirty. Which means I only have about four hours to get her welcome home gifts and meet her at her house. My dad is having a lazy day so, luckily, I get the car today which is a plus.

After throwing on a white sundress and baby pink vans, I french braid my hair and grab my phone from its charger, checking my notifications to see a few memes from Dakota, a reminder from my dad to get gas, and a text from Amelia saying she doesn't need me to come in on Monday.

I respond to Dakota with a rolling eye emoji, to my dad with an okay, and to Amelia I answered with a very thankful text with a heart at the end as a cherry on top. 

Putting a few rings on my fingers, I head out and jog down the stairs. I don't bother yelling at my dad to tell him I'm leaving because he's probably in his room relaxing or has fallen back asleep.

Grabbing the keys and my wallet from the coffee table, I head out. As soon as I'm in the car, I start it quickly to get the air flowing. The heat in the air is almost unbearable and my throat is already parched.

So after stopping at the coffee shop for an ice caramel macchiato, I head to the store for some flowers and a few other gifts.

About an hour into searching and contemplating, I decide on a small succulent plant, a large bag of candy, and a bouquet of white roses along with a bag for the gifts and a WELCOME HOME card.

After some debating, I also purchase some pink and white helium filled balloons and tell myself that it is definitely necessary to spend money on this because my best friend is coming home.

I try to ignore the total price as I swipe my card and type in the pin. Soon, I'm walking back to the car with the bags and balloons in tow with two and a half hours to spare.

I pull up into Symphony's driveway with a smile on my face, turning off the engine and stepping outside. After gathering everything, I have an extremely hard time grabbing the spare key from the flower pot by the door but I somehow manage and slowly shuffle inside.

I make my way to her room, marching up the stairs past the immaculate living room, and drop the bags onto her bed, releasing the balloons. Her room is decorated to perfection per usual. Symphony has never wanted for anything considering her father owns his own company and has financially provided for her more than she could ever need. Yet she remains kind and humble which is something I admire most about her.

After quickly setting everything up, I give it a once over before deciding it looks good enough, heading to the kitchen to steal a can of lemonade from their fridge, and scurrying out of the house. Locking the door behind me, I place the key where it belongs and crack open the cold beverage in my hand.

Checking the time, I see that I still have a good hour and a half before Symphony and her parents arrive. After sitting in her driveway and debating with myself, I decide to get some brunch and read the book I've stashed in the glove compartment for just these instances.

So, without further hesitation, I pull out of the driveway carefully and head to the diner in town. On the way there, I receive a few notifications that rudely interrupt my music but I don't bother checking them until I pull into the parking lot.

Unplugging my phone from the auxiliary cord, I read the texts.

Symphony:
Just landed! We'll be on our way home once we get our luggage. See you soon.

I smile, excitement flooding me as I send her a heart and assure her that I'm ecstatic and ready for her arrival. I check the next message.

Sam:
Hey so I've been thinking about what we were talking about yesterday and what if we talked to Mr. Ward ourselves? It seems like the only liable option at this point.

My brows furrow deeply at Samantha's text as I read it about three more times. Talk to the owner of the store ourselves? We don't even know where his office is or if he'll even hear us out. We're just a couple of employees.

Me:
I have Monday off so I'll look into it. Thanks for sharing the idea :)

I send my response, chewing on my lower lip. I guess she does have a point considering the fact that Amelia won't even ask him and has given up all hope. So I suppose we either give up and give in or take matters into our own hands.

I sigh, shaking my head to rid it of the many thoughts pulling at my brain. "One thing at a time, Lillian." I mumble to myself quietly as I grab my book, open the door, and head into the restaurant.

Eating alone is something I've done many times but not recently. It's nice to sit by myself and read a book while businesses bustles around me. Most people would say that reading a book is most enjoyable in the peace and quiet but I can read pretty much anywhere. And, dare I say, I actually like having the background noise.

A waitress comes and takes my order; a strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream, chicken tenders, and a side of fries. She seems nice enough but her fake smile is easily detected. I don't hold it against her as I notice the Saturday hustle and rush around me.

When my food gets here I'm already on the third chapter of my book, my nose buried in it as I flip through the pages speedily. My mom used to joke that I could get in the book of world records for the fastest reader in the world. Of course she was lying but I always used to think it was amusing to think about.

I take a drink my shake first, closing my eyes with a smile at the taste of sweet strawberries and smooth whipped cream. Grabbing a couple of fries, I dip it into the shake and take a bite.

"That is absolutely disgusting:" A man's voice speaks to my left, a small hint of a British accent  hidden inside his enunciations.

I quickly turn, a confused grimace on my face as I meet the gaze of a good looking man with eyes the color of caramel. He looks to be in his early twenties but the scowl ages him a few years. "Can I help you?" I ask him.

He cocks a brow at me as he stands in the isle. I take note of his button down white Banana Republic shirt and blue dress pants all held together with a pair of loafers and a tan belt. "No." He replies, turning his nose up slightly, "I was just simply going to tell you that the amount of grease from those fries and the dairy you're consuming from that shake is bloody horrendous."

I blink at him a few times before picking up a few fries, dipping it slowly into the shake and shoving them into my mouth. I chew slowly, watching as he watches with disgust. "Well then please tell me, sir, what is a fine gentleman like you doing in such a bloody horrendous eating establishment?" I smile sarcastically as he considers me with disdain.

His hazel eyes narrow at me, his dark gelled hair catching the light coming through the window to my right. "I'm here on business and this is the only decent restaurant in this backwoods town if you must know, Miss - "

"Lillian...Perkins." I deadpan, holding out my hand.

The young man considers my hand for a moment before taking it in his index finger and thumb, shaking it once. "Charmed." He says snootily.

My mouth almost drops open in disbelief at his blatant attitude. "Yes well it was nice meeting you but I think I'll get back to my horrendous meal now. Bonsoir!" I wave goodbye with my spot on french accent, catching him off guard.

He says nothing, only rolls his eyes, before turning and leaving the building, a briefcase in hand. My eyes narrow as I read the gold engraving on the brown leather; J.R.W.

Turning back to my book I mumble, "Quel crétin."