Songs for this chapter are:

3am- Matchbox 20

Fool For You- Zayn

Fool's Gold- One Direction

... 

It's seven now and I haven't heard back from Dakota since this afternoon. I text her that I couldn't wait to see her and she text back a content looking smiley face. I don't know how to read emoji language, so I decided it was a happy smiley, not a bored one.

I hope she's not standing me up. I really, really hope she's not standing me up.

I sort of hate that she's unpredictable now. A really big part of me misses when I was a part of her life. I was her best friend and her lover. She shared her thoughts with me, her hopes, and even her dreams. We dreamed together, we laughed together and I knew every thought she had, every tear she shed.

Now, I'm the outsider, the one waiting for her to decide to call me. I miss the days when I wasn't waiting for her to decide I was worth her time.

Why am I getting so down? I need to perk up and stop thinking of the worse when it comes to her. I'm sure she's just busy and she will call or text when she can. If she was going to flat out cancel on me, she would tell me. I think?

I'm laying on my bed now, staring at the game on my television. A big guy in a teal jersey is being slammed against the glass. The San Jose Sharks. I recognize the jersey of both the Sharks and their opponent., I don't really care for either hockey team, but I'm bored out of my mind and I don't know what else to do besides stare at my phone and wait for Dakota to call me.

"Landon," a soft voice is accompanied by a softer knock on my bedroom door.

It's Tessa, not Dakota, and I'm trying not to be disappointed. I almost tell her to come in, but I need to get out of my bed. I can't just sit here and wait for Dakota. I can at least go to the living room.

Yes, I know it's still pathetic, but sitting on the couch is a little less pathetic than laying in my bed, right?

I stand up and walk to the door. When I open it, Tessa is standing in the doorway wearing her work uniform. The lime green tie makes her eyes look even lighter and her blond hair is in a long braid resting on her shoulder.

"Hey," she says, her eyes on me.

"Hey," I run my hand over the hair on my face and step in front of her to go toward the living room.

Tessa sits down on the opposite end of the couch and I rest my feet on the coffee table.

"What's up? Are you okay?" I ask her.

"Yeah," she pauses, "I think so. Do you remember that guy named Robert? The one who I met when we went to the lake with your mom and Ken?"

I try to remember the details from that trip. The red panties floating in the hot tub, Tessa and Hardin barely speaking to each other, the brunette in the matching black dress, playing eye-spy with Hardin and Tessa on the way down.

I don't remember a guy named Robert, except the waiter. Oh shit, I do remember him. He drove Hardin half mad.

"Yeah, the waiter?" I confirm.

"Yes, the waiter. So, guess who works with me, starting today?"

I raise a brow. "No way. Here in Brooklyn?"

What a freaking coincidence.

"Yes way. He came in and I was so surprised to see him here, across the country. He's starting his training as I finish mine. It's so weird, right?"

It's definitely weird. "A little, yeah."

"It's like it's some sort of test for me or something," her voice is heavy with exhaustion. "Do you think it's okay for me to be friends with him? I'm not even close to being ready to date anyone," she pauses, "but I could use more friends. That's okay right?"

"What? More friends than just me? How could you?" I tease her.

Tessa kicks her foot out at me and I grab ahold of it, tickling the sole of her pink socks. She screams and lunges at me, but she's easy to stop.

I hold my arms up and wrap them around her, preventing her from whatever she thought she could do. She screams and her laughter rings through the apartment. I have missed her laughter so much.

"Nice try," I laugh, tickling her sides. She shrieks again, thrashing around like a fish and the door clicks open.

"Landon!" Tessa dramatically shouts, trying to get free from my grip.

This must be what it's like to have a sister. I can't wait for little Abby to come into the world. I better keep my ass in shape so I can keep up with her. Sometimes I worry that our age gap will be too big, that she won't want to be close to me.

Tessa is still kicking and I've loosened my hold on her. She's red faced and her hair is messy. Her green tie is thrown over her shoulder and I can't help but burst into laughter. She sticks her tongue out at me and I look toward the door. I thought the wind had opened it, but I was wrong.

Dakota is standing in the doorway staring, stone-faced at Tessa and I on the couch.

"Hey," I smile at her, relieved that she didn't stand me up.

"Hi."

"Hey Dakota," Tessa waves with one hand while trying to fix her braid with the other.

I stand from the couch and walk toward Dakota. She's wearing a white t-shirt, hung off one shoulder and barely covering her pink sports bra underneath. Her pants are workout capris, the tight black material clings to her skin.

"I'm going to back to work, if you guys need anything while I'm out, text me," Tessa says. She grabs her purse from the table and tucks her keys into her apron.

We never finished our conversation about Robert and his new job with her. I don't think she feels comfortable enough around Dakota to talk about it in front of her, so I won't push it. I find it so strange that he's here, living in Brooklyn, and if this were a comic, I would swear he was a creepy stalker, or spy. A spy would be more interesting for sure.

"Will do," I tell Tessa just as she walks through the door.

Dakota is still standing in the same spot she was when she came in. "You look beautiful," I tell her.

She fights a smile.

"So beautiful," I lean down and kiss her on her cheek. "How was your day?"

She relaxes and I can't tell if she's in a bad mood or if she's nervous to be alone with me after all this time.

"It was good. I had another audition, that's why I'm late. I came as soon as I could. It seems you were fine waiting though," she comments with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yeah, I was talking to Tessa. She's having a hard time lately," I shrug my shoulders and reach for Dakota's hand.

She lets me take it and I lead her to the couch.

"Still? Is it Hardin still?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's always Hardin," I half smile, trying not to think too much about his visit next weekend and the fact that I'm a chicken shit and still haven't told Tessa. She knows he's coming, just not how soon.

I'm going to try to keep the waiter resurfacing under wraps for now. Even though it's a coincidence, I can see Hardin making way more of it.

"Well she seemed fine," Dakota says, looking around my living room.

"Is something wrong? You seem mad or something. How was your audition?"

She shakes her head and I reach for her feet and place them on my lap. I pull her sneakers off and start rubbing the arches. Dakota's eyes close and she leans her head against the back of the couch.

"It was okay. I don't think I'm going to get it. The line for open auditions was out the door when I left. I was the third, they probably already forgot about me."

I hate when she thinks so low of herself. Does she not know how talented she is? How unforgettable she is?

"I doubt that. There's no way they forgot you."

"You're biased," she gives me a little smile and I return the gesture with a huge grin.

"Hardly," I scoff. "Have you seen yourself?"

She rolls her eyes and winces when my fingers rub gently at her toes. I pull her socks off and they stick to her toes.

"Is that blood?" I ask her, slowly peeling off the black cotton.

"Probably," she says like it's no big deal. Like it's a paper cut that she barely noticed.

Sure enough, it's blood. Her toes are crusted in blood. I've seen what her ballet shoes do to her feet, even before she was dancing full time they were bad, but they look worse now than they ever have.

"Jesus, Dakota," I peel off the other sock.

"It's fine. I got new slippers and they just aren't broken in yet."

She tries to move away, but I put my hand on her leg to stop her. "Stay here."

I lift her feet off of my lap and get up from the couch. "I'm getting a rag," I tell her.

She looks like she wants to say something, but doesn't.

I grab a clean rag from the bathroom cabinet and run it under warm water. I check the cabinet for aspirin and shake the bottle. It's empty, of course. I can't imagine Tessa leaving an empty bottle of anything around, so the blame is mine for this.

I glance in the mirror while the towel soaks with water and try to tame my hair. The top is getting long, too long. And the back needs trimmed, it's starting to curl up on my neck and unless I want to look like Frodo, I need a haircut soon.

I shut the water off and ring out the excess water. The towel is a little too hot, but it will cool down by the time I get back into the living room. I grab an extra towel and walk back to Dakota. When I find her, she's sleeping on the couch. Her mouth is slightly open and her eyes are tightly closed. She must really be exhausted. I sit back down, careful not to wake her and, as gently as I can, dab the cloth on her damaged skin. She doesn't stir, she lays silently sleeping as I clean her cuts and wipe away the dried blood.

She's working herself too much. From the bloody feet, to the pure exhaustion she's wearing on her face right now. I want to spend time with her, but I want her to rest, so I grab the blood stained towel and reach for the blanket on the chair and cover her sleeping body with it.

What can I do to occupy myself while she sleeps? Tessa is at work, Posey is at work... and that ends my long list of pals.

Maybe I should go downstairs to the corner store and get some more aspirin and Gatorade.

Yeah, that's what I'll do.

If Ellen is working, I'll kill some time by talking to her. Her birthday is coming up... tomorrow. I should have gotten her something. That's what I'll do with this time. I'll find out what she likes and I'll get it for her. 

(I'm updating again today! In a few hours:) Who likes Lakota? Raise your hand lololol)