A/n: hey y'all! This chapter starts off current day and then segues into a flashback of chapter 10 in Everett's pov. I had a reader request for this one :D

Everett

I yawned as I put my feet up on the living room couch, letting them dangle over the arm. I had stayed up all night but I'd finally made the perfect brownies. Neatly shaped and not burned even the slightest.

They were cooling on the kitchen rack as I waited for Clementine. He wouldn't be here for a while; the sun was just coming up. But I knew if I went back to bed I'd sleep for the rest of the day.

As I watched the dawn tinted glow slowly spread over the garden, I was reminded of the first time I had sat here and impatiently awaited Clementine's arrival. It was right after our first date at the zoo—well, I think it counted as a date. I hadn't gotten much sleep that night either.

-flashback starts-

My foot was jittering where it rested atop my knee. Taking a big gulp of water, I glanced out of the window again to see Clementine still standing there. The sun glinted off his dark, chestnut brown hair. His lavender eyes flitted around nervously as he glanced at everything except the window I was clearly behind.

He had been standing on the porch for a good long while, looking like he wanted to just turn around and leave. He kept checking his watch and staring at the doorbell, as if waiting for the opportune moment to ring it. He then dug his hand into the pocket of his black skinny jeans and pulled out his phone to check the time on that as well.

I took another sip of water but it wasn't helping; my mouth was still dry and my stomach was turning somersaults.

I had good reason to be nervous.

When he dropped me home after the zoo I'd said I had a nice date with him. And he'd given me an odd look, muttering that he'll see me later. Afterwards, I'd tossed and turned all night, wondering if there's a chance he'd misunderstood. But how much clearer could I have been?

I had convinced myself by morning that Clementine wouldn't be back. But here he was, standing on my porch—still just standing there.

I stared out the window, squinting as I watched Clementine bounce on the balls of his feet. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it and then hurriedly combing through it again to neaten it. Momentarily, he pulled up the hood of his black, short sleeve hoodie and then just as hurriedly yanked it down again, changing his mind.

Losing my patience I strode over to the door and swung it open. "What are you doing standing out there for so long?"

"I just got here," he tried to argue. He jutted out his pointy chin in defiance, crossing his arms over his chest.

I stepped to the side, giving him space to enter. "I saw you through the window dude. Come on in," I said over my shoulder as he followed me down the hall.

"Have you decided what we're baking today," Clementine asked, flushing a little as he quickly changed the subject, "or do we have to find a good story first?"

"I already found one!" I said, deciding not to annoy him for blushing. Just this once. "I was reading all night."

"You stayed up all night reading recipe stories?"

"Er...." My eyes shifted away as I guiltily thought of the Wattpad book I was actually staying up to read. "That amongst other things. Anyway, we're making cupcakes!"

"Oh okay, I've done those before."

"We're making a hundred cupcakes," I corrected.

"Okay, I have not done that before," Clementine exclaimed, "Why a hundred?"

"The cafe is hosting some kid's birthday tomorrow." I held open the kitchen area that was fully set up with bowls, mixers, and all the ingredients we would need. "There's a whole party happening on the rooftop area."

"Are we making themed cupcakes for it?"

"They said the party was going to have a fairy theme or something; it's for a six year old." I shrugged offhandedly, the thought of decorations not having occurred to me. "I can just make chocolate cupcakes with ganache in them."

Clementine walked over to the row of ovens on the far side of the kitchen. "What temperature should we preheat these to?"

"Oh I don't preheat the oven," I said in surprise, "I just put the stuff in and then turn it on."

"You can't do that, the baking time would take longer than what's mentioned in the recipe."

"The baking time is always longer though." I blinked in confusion, "I have to hang around and keep checking it every five minutes."

"Because you never preheat—" Clementine broke off and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Nevermind, I'll just put it to around 325º F."

I started lining the pan, glancing over my shoulder to see Clementine stressfully twisting all the knobs around and messing with the settings. He sucked in his cheeks in concentration as a frown made its way between his thick, arched brows. A cute frown.

I hurriedly shook my head to clear it, turning back to the muffin pan. I shouldn't really be thinking that. I mean, I'll admit I found him...attractive, with those insanely purple flashing eyes and those cheekbones that could cut a moonbeam in half. In retrospect, I should've probably been direct about the whole thing instead of having my stupid couples counseling idea. It was a fun idea, but honestly, it had just put me so far in friend zone by now....

Clementine's clear, lilting voice drifted through my thoughts. "...fondant...and create some flowers and fairy wings...and the edible shiny little gold balls."

"You know how to make those?"

"Not the fondant." He pulled his lip between in teeth in thought and I tried not to stare at his mouth. "But if we find a recipe I can create the decorations."

I shuddered as I remembered the last time I tried to decorate a cake. "I can make fondant, but anything I try to make out of it looks terrible."

A serious look settled upon his face. "I imagine it would."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, lightly shoving his arm. "You don't have to agree!"

He laughed and started to measure out ingredients as I grabbed a carton of eggs. I screwed up my nose as I picked out a large brown one and hit it hard against the side of the bowl. "This is my least favourite part."

Clementine stared at me as I fished out the tiny eggshells from the bowl. "Why are you doing that?" he faintly asked.

"It takes so long," I grumbled, "The whole day sometimes."

"Just throw that away and break another egg properly!"

"What do you mean properly? They all break like this."

"They're not supposed to—" he started.

I gasped as a broken piece of shell pricked my finger. "Ow!"

"What happened?"

Clementine's hand slipped into mine as he picked it up to examine it. His fingers were long and slim, covering mine. His soft palms were cast as flawless as a sculpture but as smooth as a painting, almost blurry in their perfection. He ran a fingertip over my knuckle, sending a shiver down my arm at the featherlight touch.

He dragged me to the sink as I started explaining what had happened, babbling incomprehensibly as cool water drenched our intertwined fingers. Clementine soaped up my hand, carefully removing the rest of the shell. My breathing was erratic, my heart missing a beat everytime his fingers brushed over mine. He was so close to me, chocolate brown hair almost tickling my nose as he leaned down.

"Leave the eggs to me next time," he murmured with his soft lilting voice, as delicate as the feathers on a songbird.

I had it bad.

"Thank you, Clementine." I gulped as he lifted his eyes to mine, capturing me in a lavender haze.

"Yeah uh...no problem." He dropped my hand as quickly as if it were infected. His cheeks first turned pink before his whole face flushed red. His lips parted and his tongue flicked out to wet them, making me certain he was preparing to blame his allergies.

"Allergic to something?" I whispered, beating him to it.

"Just random allergies." He swallowed visibly.

Clementine stood dangerously close to me, filling the air with the heady scent of cherry blossoms. His face tilted and upturned, inches away from mine. He was breathing fast and hard. I couldn't tell whether I could hear his heartbeat or whether it was my own, slamming violently against my chest. They seemed to beat in sync, in the same erratic rhythm.

He jerked away from me suddenly, giving directions that I didn't hear. He seemed to be saying something about the cupcakes, but the roaring in my ears was too loud to catch it. I tried to shrug; I could barely remember how to move.

My heart was still running away from my mind, obstinately ignoring the signals sent from my brain. I tried to use logic and reasoning, telling myself that nothing had actually happened. Perhaps I had imagined it. Perhaps I was delusional.

But, for a moment there, I had almost thought he was going to kiss me.