It was the last day. Day 7.

Bree's insides felt like jelly as she retied her ponytail again and again. Her hair didn't feel smooth enough, her ponytail always either leaned to the right or to the left. The more frustrated she got, the messier she did her hair.

Red smiled knowingly when she approached Bree. "Need some help?" she asked. "I'm pretty good with doing hair."

Bree looked up at friend. She wanted to refuse, but she had no good reason to do so. "I- sure." she sighed, giving Red her hair band. "Just don't do anything too fancy."

Red took a hairbrush and brushed Bree's hair, while counting under her breath. "13...14...15... I give my hair fifty brushes every day," Red explained, before resuming her counting. "20...21..."

Bree looked nervously forward, fingers anxiously playing with themselves. She hadn't spoken a word to Conner yesterday, but today, she would make up for her silence.

After Red deemed Bree's hair was smooth enough, she took the hair band and carefully tied the hair into a ponytail, making sure the hair on top was smooth. Feeling her hair being brushed, Bree had a sudden flashback of when she was a little girl, her mother tying her hair everyday before she went to school. Bree knew her mother cared about her a lot, seen from her tying her daughter's hair everyday. Of course, that stopped when Bree was old enough to do it on her own, but still, it was a nice childhood memory. It may be because of Bree's association of "someone doing her hair" with "care", but the teenager could somehow feel Red's support and encouragement when she brushed her hair. Bree allowed herself to smile, trying to ease her nerves a bit.

"There." Red gave her hair a final brush then placed the hairbrush down. "All finished."

Bree patted her hair, and felt it was undeniably smoother than when Bree herself tried to tie a ponytail. Red had even taken the care of tying the ponytail lower, so Bree could put her beanie on. "Thanks, Red." she said, grateful for her help.

"No problem." Red stood back so Bree could stand up. The young woman looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She could see the nervousness in her face, and her earth-coloured eyes were wider than usual. Her eyes flickered to the rest of her body. Bree didn't want to really dress up, so she opted for a grey hoodie and skinny jeans, and wore a pair of converses. She had her lucky charm, a crescent moon, on a bracelet around her wrist. Bree put her signature purple beanie on her head, careful not to mess her hair up. Stray strands of hair were tucked away, and Bree made sure her pink and blue bangs would not cover her eyes. Letting out an exhale, Bree closed her eyes, then opened them. Instead of anxiety, they were now filled with determination.

"I'm ready," she told her reflection. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, she turned to leave.

Red took a bottle and spritzed it at Bree's direction. When Bree looked at her in surprise, Red said, "It's perfume. Gives you luck and confidence." Red winked, the pink perfume bottle in her perfectly manicured hand.

Bree really appreciated Red's doing. "Thanks again." she told her, before squaring her shoulders and going out.

Red looked after her, a fond smile on her face. "Awwww. I do hope she and Conner will get together. They're too cute for words."

Bree had rehearsed a nice speech to say to Conner. Repeating it over and over in her head, she tried to find her friend- she meant her crush- she meant her almost boyfriend- whatever.

Bree didn't even know what to call Conner. The most she knew was that he was an important person in her life.

Conner was staring moodily at the sky, making out shapes from the clouds. His feet tapped unconsciously, and his eyes darted back and forth.

"Uhh, Conner?"

A melodic voice broke through the silence. Conner spun around so fast he nearly sprained his neck. "Uh, umm, yeah, hi?" he squeaked meekly, his heart feeling like it would jump out of his chest.

Bree was evidently nervous (had he ever seen her so distressed? She usually tended to hide her emotions. Was she lowering her guard around him?), but her almond eyes stared right into his.

Conner was momentarily stunned by the beauty that were her eyes. Did they always seem to have so many different shades? Did the sun always create speaks of light in them?

"Can we talk?" Bree asked timidly.

"Sure." Conner replied, jolted from his thoughts. Unease grew inside him and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead. What did she have to say? The words "can we talk" never lead into a good ending in a story. That said, his whole life wasn't a story, was it? He hoped he wasn't just someone being written by a teenage girl simply because she was bored.

Ah hell, Conner had an existential crisis right now. Shaking his head, he decided to focus on the current issue.

"So, umm, what do you want to talk about?" Conner asked cautiously.

"I'm honestly sorry for what happened the day before yesterday," Bree apologized, hoping he could sense the sincerity in her voice. "It was entirely my fault. I was an idiot. I was..." she clenched her fist. "...afraid."

"Why?" Conner questioned before he could think. He then immediately wanted to seal his mouth with masking tape. Conner, you don't just why people are scared! What if she's scared of you for some reason! He chided himself.

Bree let out a small chuckle, but it didn't meet her eyes. "Probably because... you're the first person to make me feel this way..." Bree rubbed her arms, feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with the weather. A tender smile graced her features. "I've gone on many adventures and solved mysteries with you, and I feel so excited, so alive around you. Nobody else has that effect around me. And the feeling was so overwhelming, I was scared. Scared, but captivated by it."

"I've always longed for something more than a dull, normal life. You were the one who gave me that something." Bree grinned sheepishly, ducking her head so Conner couldn't see her blush when she said that insanely mushy sentence. "That was before the Germany trip. I noticed you in school, you were funny and loud, like a lot of people, but I felt you were hiding something. You were a mystery, and I like mysteries. It was a refreshing change to have something to solve, other than, you know, sums." She finished lamely, and Conner chuckled, trying to be to casual even though his ears were straining to hear every word.

"I felt attracted to you and the mystery you held. That was why I always notice things about you, like how you slip up whenever I'm around, how you ramble and stutter, how you looked so focused when you're writing." Conner's face turned redder and redder by each sentence, and indescribable emotions coursed through him, making him smile widely without him realizing it.

"I got my answers when I found you in the men's restroom in that airport. Well, part of my answers anyway. That was one of the reasons why I wanted to go with you, to find out more" Bree fumbled with the bracelets on her hand. "And the other reason..." she continued softly. "It was because... I realized... you were more than just a mystery."

Conner felt his breath leave him. He knew Bree loved mysteries, and what she said just now, was basically placing him as the same rank as mysteries. He was pretty important to her.

"I found- find you interesting, with or without the mystery." Bree confessed. "I like how you act different around me, say I'm selfish, but it made me feel pretty special. You're brave, you love your sister, you'll do anything for her. You're.." Bree forgot what she planned to say, but she decided to improvise. "You have a big heart, you care about a lot of things, and you're, umm, very... c-cute..." Bree stuttered, and she slowly felt her soul sinking in the Never Ending Pit of Embarrassment. It was the cringiest thing she had ever said, and hopefully, she would ever say. "But you're also imaginative!" she quickly added, hoping to distract Conner.

"It's pretty hard to find someone with a passion for writing, and we're both authors, but you write about fantasy and adventure, while I write about horror and mystery. Writing pulls us together, but your different genre appeals to me."

Bree took a deep breath. "Anyways, now that's done with, and I've done a long explanation... confession of my feelings..." Bree felt something warm flow throughout her body, and a emotional storm raged in her eyes, but her face was as serene as ever as she looked at Conner.

"Do you accept my apology?"

Conner felt like he had died and his soul was floating to heaven when Bree began her confession. He was so happy, he didn't know what to think, as he listened to Bree in a daze.

From what Bree had admitted, Conner knew what he thought on the first day of that week was correct. He did have an effect on her as she did on him. Conner just never saw it, being an oblivious, bumbling idiot.

Somewhere around the middle of Bree's speech, Conner began to wonder if she was really talking about him. Conner Bailey, the cheeky, sarcastic kid, who could trip over thin air, who stuttered at every sentence, wasn't very smart compared to his sister, was interesting to the very cool, very amazing Bree Campbell?

But the way she smiled at him, the smile that made butterflies flutter in his stomach, convinced Conner that Bree was being completely honest about him. She had poured out her feelings to him, letting down her guard that protected her inner self completely.

And when she stumbled over her words, and said he was cute, Conner felt himself falling in love with her all over again. Bree was usually so cool, but there she was, being flustered because of him. She gave him the power to protect her at all costs, but also the power to destroy her. Conner felt trusted, and dare he say, loved.

"Do you accept my apology?"

"I- of course I do!" Conner responded quickly. Why did that sound like me agreeing to marriage vows? Oh WAIT, me and Bree getting married? That's too far! That's crazy! WE'RE JUST TEENAGERS!!

"Good." Bree looked in amusement at Conner's face, which was lit up like the sun. No, not the sun, that would just blind her. A... a soft-glowing lamp. Bree cringed at her inner description of Conner.

Great, Bree sucked at describing things. Her speech just now had used up her daily quota of "sprouting romantic poetry", not that Bree was good at being romantic or anything.

"Now, I've just basically confessed to you." Bree said, and both teenagers felt warm and bubbly all over. "In case you've missed it, I've summed it up in four words: I really, really, like you." Bree bit the inside of her cheek nervously. "That was five words," she muttered under her breath. "Anyways, I, um, have one more question."

"Yeah?" Conner whispered softly, already knowing what it was.

Bree took a swallow, feeling her crescent moon charm pressing against her skin. She wondered if she was going too fast, but to be honest, they only had this day left. A day before she would be grounded, a day before the world would come back to life, a day before their sweet time together would be intruded by nosy people placing bets on their relationship. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans.

"Conner Bailey, will you go out with me?"