Tomorrow was the last day before the university resumed classes and Alanna hadn't heard from Franz since the bake sale.

He didn't text her as often as she did him but considering what was happening with his mother, she'd expected him to get into contact with her sooner rather than later when she asked how his mother was doing. He was usually good about replying and because she had no answers to her texts, it made her worried that something bad had happened.

She had taken the bus back to her parent's house that Sunday morning since all her study materials were there; she had planned for a good long weekend of getting extra studying done over the holiday but had been derailed, especially when she went to the robotics program the previous night.

She had to admit that she went a little overboard in trying to prove her skills to Shane Calhoun. They had been there until nearly midnight going over the interior of his gardening robot to find where the issue was. It turned out that silly Shane hadn't updated the stat firmware after they had checked all the components. To her annoyance, he didn't thank her for taking time to help him but at least he sheepishly admitted that he wouldn't have considered the firmware as the problem if she hadn't been there. Small victories.

Anyway, Alanna had done her studying and then packed up her books and papers, bid her parents farewell, and was waiting at the bus stop to go back to SSU when an idea struck her. The stop was only a few blocks from the Isla Del Kashmire Community College and what would be the harm in just popping over to see Franz in person instead of waiting for him to text her back? She figured he'd be there since it was nearly ten o'clock and he should have been done with his weekly family dinner by now.

Yes, she decided that was a better idea and it would put her mind at ease. She stood from her seat and began walking down the sidewalk toward the campus, crunching on the leaves that had begun to fall from the effect of autumn.


The community college consisted of a few brick buildings, and she thought it was a really pretty place, nestled in the foothills of the island's mountains, especially now that the autumn leaves were changing colors. She would have loved to attend and stay closer to home but they didn't offer a medical program—that degree was only offered through Sim State University. Otherwise, she would have to go out of the region for schooling.

The dormitory where Franz lived was the second-largest building on the property; she could see a few students playing pool in the rec room from where she stood outside.

No one questioned her when she entered, probably used to the comings and goings of young adults at every hour—it was a college after all. She searched the doors of the rooms for one that contained Franz's portrait. She finally found it on the third door in the upper hallway and suppressed a giggle at the face of a younger version of him, staring so intently that it probably made the photographer uneasy.

She hoped he didn't think that she was intruding but little surprises were nice once in a while—even for someone as serious and steadfast as Franz. She knocked on the door and waited.

A few moments passed and she knocked again, just to be sure. A prick of disappointment hit her in the chest. Maybe he was still out, after all.

As she turned to walk away, she finally heard a deep, tired voice from the other side of the door, "Who is it?"

"Alanna!" she replied and her joy skyrocketed because she could see him one last time before the holiday was over! She heard him unlock the door, then it opened.


"Come in," Franz said and moved away from the threshold. She'd never actually been in his dorm room before. They'd always met in public places. Franz was a private person; she didn't ever see his room when he lived at his mother's house despite visiting often in her teenage years. He never offered to show her and she was too polite to ask to see it.

This room had white carpet and the walls were white cinder blocks—standard for every dorm room, she supposed. He had a few posters and a little bookshelf that was too small for his entire collection of books because she could see another row of them piled up underneath his bed. She'd wager that his favorites were stashed nearer to the bed for an easier reach for some nighttime reading. His double bass was tucked in the corner. The bedspread had a musical motif and looked worn as if it were from a second-hand store.

His face was...different.

"What happened?" she asked with a concerned frown and reached out toward his cheek; he evaded her touch, seeming slightly ashamed.

"I got into a fight," he answered but didn't elaborate further as he sat on the edge of his bed. She noticed he was limping too. She had to wonder if this was the reason he hadn't responded to her texts—maybe he didn't want her to see him like this.

She sat beside him and tried to coax him to look at her so she could examine his injury. She was, after all, studying to be a doctor. She tried reaching out again, to gently turn his face toward her. He let her with little resistance that second time.


"Did you win?"

He was staring past her with an inscrutable expression, hiding whatever he was currently feeling. She wasn't unnerved as other people seemed to become in those instances; she was accustomed to that habit of his but often wondered why he was always trying to hide behind that mask of indifference. It was hard to gauge what he was truly thinking in those moments. Eyes were windows to the soul, they said—but Franz had the ability to close the world out entirely—leaving anyone on the other side blind against the blank yet murky blue depths that remained.

"Yes," he finally answered. She didn't know whether to feel happy for Franz or bad for the poor fool on the losing side.

She studied the bruise; it looked as though it was a head-on punch as it was slightly swollen and already shaded a deep violet—his left eye was almost piercingly blue in contrast with the dark skin surrounding it. His cheek was reddened with a small amount of dried blood from a scrape on it, but the coloring didn't hide the abundant dusting of freckles underneath.

Her gaze dropped to his lips though nothing was wrong there, no blood nor signs of assault. It made her wonder how that area avoided any violence since punches were such a brutal and indiscriminate method. Franz's bottom lip was naturally a bit plumper than his upper one, which she never noticed before. They weren't pushed into a smile or frown, just resting in that same neutral position to match his expression while she examined him. It was the face he most commonly wore, though there were rare occasions when he laughed or smiled and it was sort of a thrill for Alanna to see him in such a way. Better yet to have caused it.

She found herself smiling at remembering the last time she saw those lips curved upward in a grin.


It then struck her just how sensual his lips were—in fact, Franz was incredibly handsome, even now with such blemishes. She had always known he was a good-looking guy; it was an observational note at the back of her mind when girls would turn their heads in consideration at his passing, but she never fully mused about it until now when she carefully studied his face. Perhaps she had been studying a bit too much for classes and had failed to notice what was right in front of her. A tingle or some feeling equally as electric ran up her arms and she quickly withdrew her hand, her mind awash with a sudden conscious awareness that she was, in fact, significantly attracted to him.

Maybe she had been, even subconsciously for a while now.

"What?" He inquired, the sudden change in her posture wasn't unnoticed.

She could barely look at him, and avoided explaining herself, "I'd say your eye will clear up in about a week or maybe two."

"I've had worse," he stated and nodded with acceptance as if her guess at the time to heal was correct.

It made her curious just how much. Reggie had indicated Franz had always been violent; she refused to believe that Franz would go looking for altercations and she didn't doubt he could defend himself—but looking at him—who on earth would try to attack him? He was over six feet tall and built with broad shoulders. His defined arm muscles alone would be enough to deter anyone from having a go at him.

A fleeting wonder of how those arms would feel wrapped around her as they held her down startled her consciousnesses even further. It was a slightly scandalized thought to entertain in the current situation, but her mind was suddenly a yo-yo of sorts—drudging up desires for her best friend she'd never have dreamed of and then refusing to continue the thoughts only to be reeled back in at the notion of kissing those lips which she had admired a few minutes before. Imagining giving him his first kiss...

...It was kind of hot in there. Should she ask him to open a window? She decided not to and instead, she looked around his room, trying to avoid his line of sight and hers landed on the instrument in the corner.

"Do you still play?"

"Hm?"

"The double bass, do you still play it?"

He shrugged, "I can, but I don't practice much. I have it here because mom wanted me to get all my stuff out of her house when I left."

"It has such a nice, deep sound," Alanna commented, though couldn't help thinking that her comment could be applied to Franz's voice too. He spoke a lot more often than he used to, probably because she prompted him by having actual conversations with him—but his voice was like a distant thunderstorm; a low rumble that might put other people on edge, yet for her it was comforting. She liked curling up in her bed and reading on rainy, thunderstruck days.

She stood and walked over to the standing bass, plucked the thickest string so it thrummed its low note around the room, proving her claim. Then, she felt brave enough to look at him again with a smile. He'd positioned himself so that his long body was laying diagonally across his bed, his head resting on his folded arms and his tired eyes were half-obscured by his untidy blonde hair. Franz shrugged; it was a movement of mild agreement rather than a non-committal gesture. Franz shrugged in response to most questions as opposed to answering with his words, but at least he was more expressive with his body language and she could read that well enough.


She felt an internal jolt suddenly, finding herself thinking more in detail about his body—wondering how hard his abdominal muscles really were underneath that tight shirt and if his lower obliques were defined enough to reveal a certain letter form as they connected to his hip flexors that would dip below his waistline. It wasn't safe to look at him without feeling a wave of giddy desires which immediately transformed to ashamed embarrassment and then no doubt manifested into a blush upon her cheeks. She needed to get her mind off that train of thought right away.

"How is your mom, anyway?"

"She's in the hospital," Franz replied in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice.

"What? What happened? Is she okay?" Alanna's mind was momentarily clear of desire and her focus was on the well-being of Ms. Schoulsburg. She could look at Franz again, but wished she hadn't because there was a striking vulnerability in his features despite the practical voice he had used. That disarmed expression increased her impulse to be near him even more so and only left her feeling guilty for having thought about him like that when she should have been helping him cope with his mother's sickness. It's something a good friend would do. Speaking of which, she had to wonder why he didn't text her back if this had happened just since the last time they seen each other—didn't he know by now that she'd be there for him no matter what?


"She collapsed in the bakery last night. The doctors say that the VBT spread to her pelvis," he replied with a note of despair and turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling. She knew he would wish it on himself rather than his mother if he could, "I'm in charge of the bakery until further notice."

"You mean until it closes?" Alanna took a seat next to where he lay and he looked up at her; his hair was falling away from his eyes for once due to gravity, leaving a clear view of his face and there was a deep worry creased in his brow.

She could tell there was something more he wanted to say, somehow, the way his eyes flickered away from the ceiling, and to her, for a split second before returning to their blank focus above. He didn't say anything, though, and turned to pull himself upward into a sitting position again. She then realized that she probably had reminded him that the bakery was inevitably going away which would only make him feel worse, so she slid her arms around him and hugged him from behind while pressing her cheek against his back. She hoped this would offer him some kind of comfort. She noticed that he didn't smell of baked bread anymore but of clean body wash—something earthy scented like pine or juniper, and he was warm like fresh cookies.

Cookies.

"I don't suppose you had time to make more chocolate chip cookies last night, did you?" she mumbled. Of course he wouldn't. She immediately wanted to kick herself for asking, considering his mother had just been admitted to the hospital. Franz was not a stress baker.

"No," she could hear the deep, muffled rumble of his voice through his back, "Sorry."

"It's all right. I'm sure I'll get to eat them again someday," she replied, and could tell he felt a bit more relaxed because of the way that his muscles released their tension beneath her hold. He didn't seem to mind that she was latched onto him; maybe he did like it when she hugged him after all.


They sat like that in comfortable silence for a while and she wondered what he was thinking about. She eventually let her arms go slack, released him from her embrace, and removed her backpack. He turned to face her, looking at her straight on for a change. She held her breath and could feel warmth flood her cheeks again.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she was puzzled at what he was referring to.

"Your voice was trembling."

What? How could he know? What kind of superpower observation skills did he have to notice a tiny change in her vocal inflection? She couldn't tell him her struggling thoughts now—it was too soon and she had just realized her feelings maybe five minutes ago. No, she had to go home and think this through—to make sure it was real and not just a weird ball of unexpected hormones.

"So, what's wrong?" He repeated.

She swallowed the lump in her throat at being caught so unaware by his question, at being caught staring into his eyes which were no longer inexpressive but alive with concern.

"Um..." She murmured, scrambling through her thoughts to find something to say that wasn't an outright lie because she wasn't going to claim she was fine. She clearly wasn't, "Why didn't...why didn't you tell me that your mom was in the hospital sooner?"

"I know you don't get a lot of free time and I didn't want to bother you."

She had been with Reggie. She wondered again if Franz was jealous of her spending time with him. It wasn't her intent to do that though if that was the case—she was just being nice and giving Reggie a second chance at being her friend.

"Listen, you are not bothering me. If you ever need emotional support, I'm here for you," she insisted and felt brave enough to reach down and hold his hand in a gesture of reassurance.

"I can manage," Franz mumbled and closed his eyes while taking a deep breath, "I did it long before you came along."

"Is that what you are doing when you close everyone out? Managing?" She couldn't help but ask with a note of frustration. They had been friends for four years, she told him everything about herself and still, he refused to open up to her at times. However, he did crack open an eye and looked at her sharply.

"I don't enjoy burdening others with my problems."

She felt herself squeezing his hand tighter, maybe trying to keep him there so he wouldn't drift away. "That's what friends are for. Friends help each other. You're my best friend and I care about you. So just let me know if you ever need to talk and get some of that off your chest. You aren't alone."

Alanna had always wanted a close friendship. She had seen so many other people lucky enough to have best friends that they confided in and trusted their lives with and she wanted to achieve that kind of camaraderie with Franz but so far it had been mostly a one-way street. Franz opened up with her more than he had with any other person but still held her at arm's length. It was almost as if he feared to trust that deeply.

Franz seemed to hold in a sigh and closed his eye again, gently pulling his hand out of hers, "Sometimes you care too much."

"I'd rather care too much than be a cold-hearted bastard," she retorted a little too quickly.

She immediately put her hands over her mouth knowing her mistake in the same instant Franz's eyes snapped open and his face crashed into startled offense. That word held a significant unpleasantness for Franz; it was a weapon his peers had used against him and his sister to invalidate them and render them as lesser people. It was no secret in the small island community that the Schoulsburg twins were bastards. Neither he nor Fauna understood why it was such a big deal but apparently, society viewed it as scandalous and improper that they didn't even know who their father was, much less that the man hadn't been wed to their mother at the time they were born.

But maybe if he had been more open with Alanna she would have known just how badly the word cut into him and she would have thought twice before saying it.


"Franz! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean that you were—" She began to apologize in earnest and reached out to him as if to heal any hurt she had inflicted. She was using the term more as an idiom and not an insult to him personally but it was careless of her to say it nonetheless.

He recoiled from her touch, leaning backward, obviously wounded at what she had blurted despite her heartfelt apologies.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a stony voice, once again pushing his emotions behind a mask of indifference.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," she explained with guilt washing over her because she had done the opposite of making his mood better, and still at the back of her mind she kept having those torrid, inappropriate thoughts about him despite this tense situation they were having.

Franz remained silent.

She stood abruptly and turned away, grabbing up her backpack, realizing she wasn't helping anything by being there. She shouldn't have even come. So much for that peace of mind she had wanted.

"I should go, I'm sorry I said that. I hope you can forgive me. Just know that you are a lot more amazing than anyone gives you credit for, including yourself, and I just wish you could be as open with me as I am with you. Maybe...maybe someday..." she rambled, feeling a tight knot form in her chest and trailed off as she approached the doorway, putting her hand on the doorknob.

Before she had the chance to step over the threshold, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her—one across her chest and the other over her mid-section—startling a little 'eep!' out of her and nearly squeezing her breath away.

After a few beats of silence, she heard his soft baritone, "I know...I know that you didn't mean it, Alanna."

She felt like melting in utter relief. The knot unwound and was replaced with another tingling feeling from head to toe—because it was the first time she could recall that he had ever initiated any kind of embrace between them. She would have liked to stay in that position for a while longer, but she needed to sort out these feelings about him and truly had to put a distance between them to begin that process.

"I need to go before I miss the next bus, but I'll call you sometime this week if I have any free time. I'd like to go to the bookstore again."

She felt him give a nod from behind her and couldn't help but to smile; even without the sudden complicated feelings of attraction swimming through her mind—she still had hope that he would come around and be the best friend she had always wanted and would ever have—if not more.