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I chuckle to myself at how ridiculous she is, then head back to my room to find my old swimsuit.

* * *

I flail around in the freezing cold water, trying desperately to get above the layer of ice so I can breathe. The sunlight beams through the ice but offers no warmth to my freezing skin.

This is it. This is when my life ends. Doing something simple like ice skating with my dad and brother.

I’m getting tired, about to give up, when I hear Harrison's voice. I follow the sound and finally find the hole I fell through. I come up gasping for air.

My limbs feel limp, but I have to keep clinging to the edge of the ice. Harrison is laying on the ice, holding my hand. His voice is starting to fade as he encourages me to keep calm until Dad can get help. I’m so cold now, I can’t feel my body, and my mind is fuzzy. The sky is starting to get dark so I’m hoping Dad gets help soon.

I wake up in a panic, my body drenched with sweat. My breaths are coming quickly like I just ran sprints. Glancing at my phone, I see it’s barely six am. All I want to do is cry, but I know that won’t help. Instead, I jump out of bed and walk to my closet to re-organize it. It’s already in color order… but I can change it to brand names. In alphabetical order, of course.

I spend two hours organizing my already organized closet and I’m still rattled from the familiar nightmare. But I’ve calmed down enough that I’m no longer shaking. My stomach has settled too, which is good, since I’m already nervous enough about my coffee date with West.

Not date… meeting. Coffee meeting.

Moving from my closet to the bathroom, I start getting ready. First, I apply my best “no makeup” makeup look. I want to look amazing but not like I’m trying too hard. Basically, I’m shooting for effortlessly amazing. Next, I walk back to my immaculate closet to get dressed. After trying on what feels like one-hundred different outfits, my closet is completely disheveled. What a waste of impeccable organizing skills. Clothes cover every surface in my small bedroom… except my body, and I need to leave in ten minutes. So much for the two hours of organizing I did.

Noel knocks on my door and I walk through the mess to open it.

She glances around my normally pristine room with a horrified expression. “Um, you need some help picking an outfit?”

I turn and flop onto my bed with a groan. “Yes.”

She claps a few times. “Get up! We have work to do. Where are your black jeans?”

I stand and rummage through the pile on my bed to find them.

“Okay, put these on. They make your butt look good.”

She puts her hands on her hips and bites her bottom lip as she ponders her next idea. “Now, how about a white tee?” She spots one on the bed before I do and grabs it.

I pull on the jeans and then the tee while Noel continues rummaging. She selects my light denim jacket, white converse sneakers, and small stud earrings.

Once I’ve gotten dressed in the items she chose, I look in my floor-length mirror next to my closet door. “Noel, this is my old One Direction T-shirt.”

“Oh well, you don’t have any time left to change. Just button up your jacket.” She spins me toward the door and gives me a shove. “Now go have fun on your coffee date.”

“Just coffee. Not a date.”

“Okay, sure.”

* * *

Half an hour later, I’m pulling up outside the cafe West told me to meet him at. Downtown is busy as usual with a steady hum of traffic, tires screeching, and the occasional honk. I’m stressed about finding a parking spot. Not knowing the parking situation always makes me a little panicky. The thought of possibly having to parallel park doesn’t help either. This is why I take the metro all week, and rarely drive my car downtown.

I circle around the block with no luck. As I come back around, I see a spot right in front of the cafe. It’s a great spot, but, of course, I have to parallel park. With a deep breath, I internally go through my driver’s handbook. I pull up next to the car in front of the parking spot and begin backing into the empty space.

There are several people walking on the sidewalk near me, but they’re not paying attention to me, thank goodness. A man moves forward from the bustle of passerby, catching my eye. It’s West in all of his masculine glory, standing on the sidewalk watching me curiously. His hands are in his pockets and he’s grinning.

It’s at that moment that my competitive drive kicks in. I will parallel park as I’ve never parallel parked before. It will be seamless, effortless, otherworldly. West will be speechless after watching such amazing parallel parking skills.

Prepare to be amazed, Weston Kershaw. I’ve thrived without you these past five years. And I’ll prove it by parking in this tight spot.

I continue to drive forward and backward what feels like fifty times before I’m finally parked. My little Toyota Corolla is way off center, but it’s good enough. I can feel West’s eyes on me, but I refuse to be embarrassed by my car being slightly crooked… okay really crooked.

Grabbing my purse, I turn to open my door, but West is right there and opens it for me.