On Wednesday morning, Flynn, Amalia and I wandered into the Delgado home and inhaled a deep breath. The aroma of fresh baking and spice floated through the air. It was so exquisite that for a moment, the thought of eating food high in carbs didn't make me nauseous.

"Kiara's been baking," Amalia smiled, peering over her shoulder. "It astounds me that she finds the time to be honest. But I think she gets up at like five in the morning and does it before she goes to work."

"Kiara?" Flynn whispered beside me as we followed Amalia down the corridor.

"Elias' girlfriend. Marnie's sister."

"Marnie is Max's friend from his old job, right?"

"Bingo," I smiled and held his hand.

"Small world," he chuckled to himself.

I couldn't help but watch as he peered around at all of the colour on the walls and unique decor that gave this house its character. Flynn was raised in an Asian home where there was a lot of tradition in the interior design. He had a great appreciation for cultural living.

When the three of us wandered into Bernie's bedroom, we were greeted with the sound of uncontrollable laughter. She was on her bed, still dressed in her pyjama shorts and a cami. But she wasn't alone. Next to her, holding a phone above both of their faces, was a girl with natural blonde hair falling in soft waves around her porcelain face.

And I mean, porcelain. She had the features of a doll. She was pale. Skin smooth to the point that it looked airbrushed and a dusting of natural blush gave her some colour. She was gorgeous. And a little heavier. Her thighs and hips were wide but wow it didn't mean that she didn't have a seriously gorgeous figure. How was it that I could see a size ten girl and see nothing but beauty, but not when it came to me?

Toxic.

"Oh," Bernie sat up and so did the girl. "Hola. You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Never mind. Hello, hello. Oh hello Flynn. I've heard lots about you. Well, not lots. But I used to follow Lucas. So I know who you are. I don't follow him anymore. Sometimes I just leave mean comments on his photos."

The blonde girl giggled and looked full of guilt. Like she too was in on the mean comments.

"Nattie," Amalia sounded playfully accusing as she wandered in and started admiring a new dress on the cloth mannequin. "Aren't you meant to be at school?"

"Yes," she blushed and it made her pale complexion burst into flames.

"If I'm allowed to skip," Bernie stood up and started pulling her long dark hair into a ponytail. "Then she's allowed to skip. I mean, she's not skipping for long though."

"Yeah I should go," Nattie scooted off the bed and started searching the floor. She found her shoes and sat down so that she could pull them on. "It was nice to meet you."

It took me a moment before I realised that she was talking to me. Her cheeks were emblazoned red and she jittered. I didn't feel the need to point out that we hadn't met at all. She seemed nervous enough as it was. The sort of reaction that came from someone recognising me. I was used to it in the sense that it had been happening my entire life. But it never failed to make me feel strange. Like it was weird to be fawned over.

"Oh," I smiled. "You too. I'm Abby by the way."

"I know. I'm—"

"She's a huge fan," Bernie squealed and spun in a circle. For what reason, I'm not sure. But it was cute. "I might have told her to be here so that she could see you in person."

Nattie stood up, shoes now on and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'm in recovery for um an eating disorder that I developed when I was nine. I've been good for a long time but I was in a coma. I nearly died a couple of years ago."

"And now look at her!" Bernie grinned. "Gorgeous and thiccccc."

I was too busy being in disbelief that this girl, who was barely a teenager, had suffered something so horrific. It blew my mind and I almost wanted to sob. Especially at the fact that she was brave enough to share it with me.

"I'll be honest," I said. "I was just thinking about how gorgeous your figure is when I walked in here. I'm so glad that you're doing better now."

"You too," she smiled and exhaled, as if she'd been holding her breath. Her and Bernie shared a quick look and Bernie gave her a thumbs up.

"Told you you'd be fine."

Nattie flushed bright again and shook her head. It was like she had a button that illuminated her skin for a moment before it settled again. She waved at the eccentric girl beside the window. "I'll text you, Bernie."

Berns smiled and waved back. "See ya."

After she was gone, Amalia, still letting a soft black satin fall through her hands, looked at her sister and raised a brow. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, she knew that I knew Abby and then when you said that you were coming over today and to take the day off, I thought I could invite her over to meet Abby because she's a big fan and she has an inspiration board too. And she can relate with the eating stuff and so—"

"But how did she know that Abby has an eating disorder."

The room went quiet and Bernie started to shift from foot to foot as she swallowed. "I told her."

"Berns," Amalia sighed.

"It's fine," I smiled.

"I'm sorry," Bernie panicked. "I just knew that she had been through it and so she understood and I promise that she won't tell other people. She's really good with secrets. Honest."

"Bernie, I'm not upset. I promise. It was nice to meet her. It's moments like that, that can give some perspective sometimes. Ya know."

She nodded but her expression made it clear that she couldn't quite relate. Which was fine. Flynn continued to stand beside me with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face. He was such a 'along for the ride' sort of person. His flight was leaving this afternoon but I wanted him to meet Bernie before he took off.

"This is cute," I wandered over to the mannequin and touched the sleeve of a long sleeve satin dress. It was gorgeous. The neckline dipped into a point. The sleeves were long. The waist was almost like a thick belt and then the skirt half of the dress billowed out into a thick wave of material. It reminded me of the fifties but the fabric and sleeve were more modern.

"It has pockets," Bernie grinned. She picked up the skirt and slipped her hand into said pocket. Which blended in so well with the flow of the skirt that it was almost invisible.

"I can't deal with how talented you are," I said, inspecting the pockets. More dresses needed pockets.

"This is for you," Bernie smiled and I looked at Amalia, expecting that she was talking to her. But Amalia and Bernie were watching me.

"Me?!"

"Yes," Bernie clapped and her hands together and wiggled her fingers in delight. "It just came to me. The design. The fabric. The skirt. You were the first and only person I could imagine wearing it."

"I won't fit this," I mumbled. "It's too long and small."

"Do I look like an amateur to you?!" She snapped and practically swam through the mountains of fabric and materials on her floor so that she could stand in front of the mannequin with me.

Flynn sat down on the edge of her bed. "She's right. Bernie is I mean. That's going to look beautiful."

I ignored him and watched Bernie unzipping the dress. The zip was so seamless and hard to see that even when I knew where it was, I still had trouble seeing it. This girl was a serious prodigy. She was careful and precise as she slid it off the mannequin and I remained sceptical that it would fit me.

"Go and put it on," she thrusted it at me. It felt like heaven in my hands. So smooth and a not at all light weight. It was of quality.

"This particular style suits taller girls better."

Bernie scoffed. "Who the fuck said?"

"Bernie!" Amalia snapped.

"Sorry. But no. This particular style can go on whoever wants to wear it. Just like all clothing can go on whoever wants to wear it."

"It's going to make me look shorter than I am."

"Babe," Flynn gestured at the door, waving towards it. "Just put the dress on. Please. Go and put it on and let us tell you how good it looks."

Not that I could trust his opinion he'd tell me that I look good regardless. But I took the dress and slipped out of the bedroom.

I stared at the reflection in the mirror. Well, sort of. First I looked at the bright orange and blue shower curtain behind me. And then I let my eyes wander across the mosaic decor on the walls and the red and blue taps on either side of the faucet and then I looked at me. Standing in the full length mirror that had been attached on a lean. The frame was neon pink.

But the most subtle part of the entire picture, was me. In my black dress with soft blonde hair and sun kissed skin. I wasn't exuding colour or bursting with brightness. But the longer I looked, the more I stared, the more I saw. But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't retracting. I smiled.

The dress fit me.

It was a perfect fit. My hands slid over the waist, stomach and hips. It hugged me in the middle and fell so beautifully, to my calf muscles. The fabric moved like a dream each time that I turned to assess myself from a different angle. Like a stream that moved so gently it appeared as glass. It didn't seem real that this was me and I felt beautiful. 

When I walked back into the bedroom, Bernie was standing at her desk with fabric in her hands. Amalia was sitting cross legged on the bed and Flynn was still in the same spot on the edge. The three of them peered at me and I saw smiles. Genuine smiles. The quiet was broken when Bernie squealed. Her eyes turned into little curves and her dimples appeared.

"It looks so beautiful! You look beautiful."

Flynn stayed where he was but he ran a hand across his jaw and swallowed. His stare was all hooded and laced with desire. That sultry gaze of his made him look so fucking hot.

So I turned my attention from him and smiled at the girls. For once, I believed them when they started fussing and gushing. I believed them so much that I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

"I'm getting in line to borrow that," Amalia stood in front of me and touched the fabric between her fingers. "It's gorgeous. You'll have to wear it out. Girls night?"

I tipped my head back. "Yesssss. I would love a girls night."

"You could invite Mills? We'll go out for dinner and a dance. Oh and let's get late night manicures with a side of champagne."

"Can I come?" Bernie grinned up at her big sister, hands clasped behind her back. Amalia gave her an apologetic smile.

"Not for another few years. We can do something together soon though. Movie or something."

"You're going to have to schedule it in," Bernie picked up a journal from her desk. I continued admiring the dress in the mirror on Bernie's wall and occasionally catching Flynn who was still staring at me.

"Schedule it in?" Amalia took the journal and flipped through the pages with amusement. "Well excuse me, Miss in demand."

"I have the next three or four weekends designated to specific designs. Plus sleepovers with Nattie. I kind of have to squeeze in homework here and there. Sleep might be needed but I have considered meth as an alternative."

Amalia slapped Bernie around the back of the head and returned to skimming over the schedule. I had to admire Bernie's dedication to her art and the fact that she so carefully allotted her time. That was a habit that would help her a lot in the future when she became busier. Because I had no doubt that she would.

Part of me almost wanted to tell her that she didn't need school. She had her career in the bag. But I supposed that wouldn't be the best example to give her and there were certain aspects of her education that were important.

"Bernie," I said. Both of the girls peered up from the journal and waited. "Have you heard of Harriet Bennett?"

"Duh," she chuckled as she threw things off her desk until she found a pen. She handed it to Amalia. I smiled at the fact that she was actually scheduling in a girls date. "Why is that?"

"She's sort of friends with my mom."

Bernie slowly looked at me with her mouth hanging open. After a long moment of staring at me, she turned to Amalia and whispered. "Necesitas casarte con Max inmediatamente."

Amalia blushed, rolling her eyes.

"So," I continued, not loving the fact that I couldn't understand a single word that she said. "Mom said that she had a chat to Harriet about you and if you're interested and put a folder together, mom can get it to Harriet and I'm not making promises but it could lead to something. Perhaps. Like I said, no promises."

"I. Could. Die!" She screamed and went to run off in the direction of her closet. However, her foot twisted in a pool of material on the floor and she went down so hard and fast that it hurt me just to watch.

"Don't panic," Amalia shook her head. "This happens more often than not. She won't clean up, she lives with a permanent concussion. She's picked her suffering."

"I'm good," Bernie assured us, but Flynn was beside her and helped her to her feet regardless. He made me swoon. "Thank you mr tall man. Alright. Um wha— oh my folder. Duh. You think I don't have a folder prepared?! I'm going to be the Spanish Jenny Humphrey. Leave school. Work for a Waldorf. Or a Bennett. Whatever. Except dad isn't an angry little musician and he will support me. I think."

I adored this girl. So much.

I wore the dress home. Well back to Max's apartment. Home for now. I felt a little bit weird wearing something that was more appropriate for an evening out, on the train in the middle of the day. But whatever. I felt beautiful and I wanted to make the most of it. I caught each reflection in each window, mirror and stainless steel surface.

Flynn and I stood in my bedroom. He was leaving soon and Amalia was out in the kitchen preparing dinner. I said that I would help her soon but I needed to get changed. The little Bluetooth speaker on my dressing table was humming the tune of Only You by Little Mix and Cheat Codes. A current fave. I loved having background music in my bedroom.

"Do you remember when we went to my cousin's wedding together?" Flynn asked, standing beside me and taking my hand in his before I could unzip the dress. He pulled me in at the lower of my back and rested his chin atop my head.

Before I knew it, we were dancing. Slow dancing in the middle of my bedroom. This is one of the things that I'd always loved about Flynn. He was such a spur of the moment romantic. To the outside, he was quiet and gentle. Perhaps a little reserved. But when it was just the two of us, he made me feel like a princess. And he never hesitated to seize the moment.

I rested my head on his chest. "Yeah I remember the wedding. How come?"

"That was the first time we danced like this."

"Oh. Yeah. You're right. It got me so hot and bothered."

He laughed. "Mhmm. You almost dragged me upstairs before the song was even over."

"Mmmm."

"This isn't really a slow dance song," he said. "But I'm rolling with it."

I stepped back with a small grin and held onto his hands. Both of them. He was right. The chorus was upbeat despite the tune being laced with emotion. So I started rolling my shoulders backwards, fast and in time. It was so dorky but I didn't care and neither did Flynn. He started laughing and copied me.

And then we flicked our heads from side to side but we timed it so that when I was facing the left, he was facing the right and vice versa. Shoulders rolling and heads darting from side to side, we began jumping on the spot and stepping in toward each other and it was probably the worst dance on the planet but it was hilarious and I ended up in a fit watching my big tall man dance like an erratic spaz.

I let go of his hands when he pulled back and turned around to start twerking.

"Flynn!" I screamed with laughter. He bounced his bum up and down so I started slapping it and cheering him on.

"This isn't the sort of dance that I imagined when I saw you in that dress," he said, hands still on his knees as he continued twerking. "I imagined it being a little more romantic. Like the one at the wedding."

"Baby ssh," I ordered. "Shake that money maker for me."

He straightened up, fast, took me in his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist before he pushed me up against the wall. It was sudden and damn did it make my tummy turn. In a good way. In the best way.

"Promise me something?" His face was close to mine and his thumb made circles on my thigh.

"What is it?"

"While you're here, don't do anything that doesn't make you smile like that," he lifted his hand and ran a finger across my lips. "Don't do anything that doesn't make you happy. And do everything that does. Whatever it is. Promise me?"

My hands went into his silk smooth hair and I inched closer. "Even if it's gorging store bought sushi?"

He grinned and leaned in, kissing me soft and slow. "You prefer mine. I know this."

"True," I murmured against his mouth, eyes closed. The moment had enveloped me. "I'm going to miss you."

"Miss me? Or my sushi?"

"Both."

"I'm going to miss you too," he said, forehead against mine. We could have remained like that forever. In our own bubble. In a place where the rest of the world didn't matter. But eventually he did leave. We said our goodbyes but we promised that we'd talk as often as possible. Texting. Phone. FaceTime. He was sure that the weeks would go fast and soon I'd be in California for the summer. Or indefinitely. I was yet to decide.

Later that evening, I sat on the sofa with Amalia and Max who were both in PJs while they watched some romcom from the eighties. Max never used to watch movies and I'd seen him watch like seven since I got here. A week and a half ago. Whatever. It wasn't that interesting to me, apart from the occasional cute retro outfit that I could totally be into.

My phone chimed on the arm rest beside me and I saw Flynn's name and his little dumpling emoji. I swiped it open, expecting to read something cute and along the lines of missing me, but it wasn't that at all. What it was made me sit up straight, blood rushing, heart pounding.

I'm attaching this news article that I just read babe. Apparently Avery has gone straight from hospital to a cell. Someone came forward about a sexual assault and an investigation has been opened.