"This makes zero sense. I wanna go too."
Calista stared between the two of them, still not over how fast the situation had flipped, and really wanting in on whatever fun was about to happen.
Jayna shot her a deadly glare.
Calista lifted both hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll just hang out with my ridiculously handsome brother."
(Keep bringing up your brother and see what happens to you, Jayna thought darkly.)
"I'll go scout the place first," Jayna said, side-eyeing her. "Next time I'll bring you."
Her words were casual, but her mind had long since flown out the window and was currently circling Ginevra's apartment building, wondering which dress she should wear tomorrow.
Calista watched her best friend practically vibrate with excitement and decided Jayna was officially too clingy with Ginevra.
Never mind. She had karaoke lined up with her brother and the possibility of meeting some cute upperclassmen. Priorities.
That night, Ginevra's ears were oddly quiet.
No buzzing phone.
No relentless stream of stickers and questions and "Ginny~~~".
Jayna had left school early, for once not insisting on walking home with her. She'd waved off the idea with something about "needing to prepare," which Ginevra hadn't fully understood and therefore did not question.
Now she walked home alone under a cool evening breeze. The air had a faint edge of autumn chill.
She tilted her head, looking up.
Earlier, the sky had been a flat sheet of cloud. Now a few faint stars had flickered on.
Looked like tomorrow would be good weather.
"Ginny, you're back?"
Her mother padded out in house slippers as soon as she heard the door.
"Mm."
Ginevra set her backpack on the sofa. Her dad was on the couch in front of the television, completely absorbed in his show, with little Raindrop flopped belly-up across his thighs.
He looked like anything but a guard dog.
"You're home early," her mom called from the kitchen. "We've got borscht tonight. You want pirogi or blini?"
"Either's fine."
Ginevra washed her hands in the bathroom, then came back out to help with the bowls and spoons.
"Would it kill you to move once in a while?" her mom scolded her dad from the kitchen. "Your daughter just got home; go reheat the pirogi in the fridge."
Her dad dragged himself off the couch, grumbling, but when he opened the fridge, the pirogi were already sitting in the rice cooker, warming.
He looked over at Ginevra and brightened.
"That's my girl."
She shot him a cool glance.
He rubbed his nose, chastened.
He honestly had no idea which side of the family she'd inherited that temperament from. Maybe from her maternal grandmother—cold, terrifying woman. Or from his own mother—also terrifying, but in a different way.
"We closed the shop early today," her mom said as she brought the dishes out. "Your dad and I wanted to have dinner with you."
Ginevra quietly set each dish in its place and sat only after her mom had settled down.
"Are you two working tomorrow?" she asked after a spoonful of porridge. "The shop, I mean."
"Of course!" her dad answered immediately. "It's National Day. Crowds mean good business."
Her mom shot him a look.
"Did you have plans tomorrow?" she asked Ginevra more gently.
Ginevra hesitated.
"School's on break," she said. "I… want to bring a classmate home. She said she wants to study with me."
!!!
Her mom and dad both froze.
Her dad's chopsticks actually fell onto the table.
Ginevra frowned slightly.
Was it that surprising?
"If it's not convenient, I'll tell her not to come," she said, starting to get up.
"Hey—hey, hey!" Her mom yanked her back down. "You don't know basic manners, do you? If a classmate wants to visit, how can you tell her not to?"
She beamed.
"I've been praying you'd bring a friend home one day. I'm thrilled."
"Your mom," her dad chimed in, "literally lies awake at night worrying you're being ostracised at school. She thinks you don't have any friends."
He hunched over his bowl straight away, bracing for impact.
"It's true," her mom sighed. "Your dad and I are always at the shop. We don't get to talk to you properly, and I worry you don't open up to anyone. If you've made a friend, that's wonderful.
"Tomorrow, your dad can open the shop in the morning. At noon we'll have Chloe mind the counter, and I'll go buy groceries and cook up a big meal."
Seeing them this happy, Ginevra relaxed.
It was true she'd never brought anyone home before. Honestly, no one had ever tried to get that close to her.
No one except Jayna, who laughed all the time and just kept… coming back.
Was she Jayna's "friend"?
As close as Calista, maybe?
The thought sat oddly in her chest, a little too sharp around the edges. Possibly because of the faint, undeniable flavour of jealousy in it.
"What's your friend's name?" her mom asked as she ate. She knew better than to expect her daughter to volunteer information.
"Jaynara Stevens."
"Good name," her mom said. "I bet she's a pretty girl."
On cue, Raindrop whined twice from his little dog bed as if agreeing with his grandma.
Ginevra imagined Jayna's face—bright eyes, easy smile, those shallow dimples when she really laughed—and found herself silently agreeing.
Her mom was right.
"What does she like to eat?" her mom asked.
Ginevra thought about it.
She actually didn't know.
She knew Jayna liked thirteen-spice crayfish.
And that her favourite fruit was strawberries.
"Crayfish. Strawberries," she said at last.
"Crayfish, huh?" her mom mused. "I'll go by Mr. Wilbur's stall tomorrow and get some. Thirteen-spice?"
Her dad perked up immediately.
"Perfect. Your mom's crayfish is the best. Looks like I'm in for a treat tomorrow."
Her mom swatted him with her chopsticks.
"Eat first, brag later."
She turned back to Ginevra.
"After dinner, you call this Jaynara and subtly ask what else she likes. Got it?"
Ginevra blinked.
She wasn't sure she liked the idea of interrogating Jayna about food.
"Mom, she's coming to study," she said. "Isn't this too much—"
"I know that," her mom said. "But if a classmate comes over, we should be hospitable, yeah?
"You really are clueless. If your grandma heard you talk like that, she'd claw her way out of her coffin to lecture you."
Her dad sat there in silence, thinking that yes, his mother absolutely would, but he valued his life too much to say it out loud.
Ginevra closed her mouth.
She'd barely gotten one sentence out and been steamrolled.
If Jayna had been here, she would've laughed at her.
Her mom looked ready to launch into another speech, so Ginevra surrendered.
"…Fine," she said quietly.
After dinner, she tried to help with the dishes and was promptly chased back out of the kitchen.
"Go ask her!" her mom shooed. "Softly, casually. Don't scare the poor child."
Ginevra retreated to her room, sat at her desk, and stared at her phone.
She thought about calling.
Her thumb hovered over the icon.
She chickened out and opened their chat instead.
She tapped on the little rabbit avatar and typed:
"You there?"
Ten minutes later, a reply popped up:
"Here! (sparkly eyes.gif)"
Of course.
Ginevra's brows drew together.
If she'd taken this long to reply, she was probably up to something.
Maybe she actually was… studying?
"Still busy?"
Jayna had, in fact, been changing outfits.
Half a dress was hanging off one shoulder, the back zipper only halfway up, hair a mess, as she hopped between her mirror and her bed where she'd laid out three different skirts.
When she saw the notification, she practically dove for her phone.
Giny texted first?!
She smirked and fired back:
"I was changing clothes. I'm free now. What's up~?"
If the person on the other end of the phone could've seen her, they'd have assumed she was in the middle of something wildly inappropriate.
She wasn't.
She was just catastrophically bad at multitasking.
Ginevra stared at the reply and imagined Jayna going out somewhere.
Maybe she should wait to ask…
Her screen lit up again.
"I'm picking out what to wear to your place tomorrow. I can't decide. Tiny florals? Plaid skirt? Princess dress?""Everything looks good, which is a real problem. (cry-laugh.gif)"
Ginevra read the ridiculously self-satisfied message and, inexplicably, did not find it annoying.
She actually paused to picture Jayna in a dress.
"Never mind, you probably can't picture it anyway. I'll just blind you with my beauty tomorrow."
Ginevra's mouth twitched.
She hesitated, then opened her browser and searched: "How to subtly ask what someone likes to eat?"
The results were not helpful.
"How to subtly ask what someone likes."
"How to tell if your crush likes you back."
"How to get your crush to text you first."
…
She sighed.
Back in their chat, she typed:
"You like strawberry milk. Do you prefer sweet dishes too?"
On the other end, Jayna blinked at the message.
A weird question, but okay.
"Not only sweet stuff. I love sweet things—like sweet-and-sour ribs—but I also like spicy.""But someone can't handle spice. 👀"
She had indeed typed "stir-fried chilli pork" and deleted it again, mindful of Ginevra's chili tolerance.
If Ginevra's parents were the same, serving spicy dishes would be cruel.
She was going to be the most considerate little guest alive, obviously.
"For now I'm kind of overheated though, so I shouldn't eat spicy food. Other than that, I eat everything. Hehe."
Ginevra stared at the message.
No specifics.
She frowned, wondering how to prod further.
"For example?"
She sent it before she could overthink.
Jayna finally realised Ginevra was trying to suss out her tastes.
The little hermit crab was really knocking on the door and then pretending she wasn't there.
Jayna's first instinct was to tell her not to fuss, but then she thought about how much effort Ginevra was probably spending just to ask.
And how proud she was.
So she went easy on her.
She typed out another dish—then backspaced it.
"But I'm a bit overheated lately so no spicy food. Anyway, I like everything, seriously."
A beat later:
"I'm going to sleep early tonight so I'm pretty tomorrow. Good night~ 🌙"
Ginevra stared at the "good night" part.
Jayna was always still messaging at midnight.
Her mom's words about her being "too cold" and "hurting people without realising it" floated back into her head.
Did she say something wrong?
She scrolled up, reading every line she'd sent, trying to see if she'd stepped on some invisible tripwire.
Before she could convince herself she'd ruined everything, another message popped up:
"I'm sleeping early for BEAUTY SLEEP.""So you can fall under my spell tomorrow."
Ginevra exhaled, feeling foolish.
"Good night."
She set the phone down and went to report back to her mother.
Jayna did not go to bed early.
Instead, she started prepping for tomorrow.
She couldn't just show up empty-handed.
First visit to a friend's house—okay, "friend"—for "tutoring," which obviously meant eating and hanging out at least as much as studying.
She needed a gift to make a good impression on Ginevra's parents.
She called the most qualified consultant she knew.
"Still awake?"
"What do you want," Calista groaned. "People who call me that sweetly always want something."
"Don't be like that. I need advice," Jayna said, burrowing under her covers. "I'm going to Ginevra's house tomorrow. What should I bring?"
Calista nearly dropped her phone.
"The nerve," she said. "You've come to my house a million times and never brought so much as a cookie. I'm the one scrambling to feed you every time."
"We share everything," Jayna said solemnly.
"You and Ginevra aren't even dating," Calista snapped. "Why are you bringing her presents?
"If you want to bring gifts, start with me."
Jayna just laughed.
"Because you know me so well, I asked you, obviously. You're the only one who understands me. I'd be so heartbroken if you rejected me right now."
She added a couple of fake sniffles for effect.
Calista sighed, defeated.
"There's a pastry shop on South Street called Little Oven Bakery," she said. "Their cakes are great. But if you go late, everything will be gone."
Jayna's eyes lit up.
"I've heard of that place! The one that's insanely expensive and always sold out?" she said, already opening a map app. "Okay, I'll get up early to queue."
Calista listened to the sound of furious tapping and suddenly felt bitter.
"Jayna," she said slowly, "if you show up at my place over break without Little Oven pastries, we're done."
"Okay, okay. I'll get you some too," Jayna said quickly. "Not even one less."
Satisfied, Calista hung up.
Jayna lay in the dark for a moment, grinning at the ceiling.
Pastries it was.
What parent didn't like good desserts?
The next morning, both girls woke up to their alarms at six-thirty.
On a holiday.
When normal people were sleeping in.
Ginevra washed her face in cold water and didn't feel a hint of sleepiness.
She'd actually woken up several times in the night, which for her was almost unheard of.
She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, towel in hand.
Why was she happy about getting up early?
Her mom shambled out of the bedroom, heading for the bathroom and stopping when she saw her daughter fully dressed.
"You're up this early?" she said. "You could've slept in."
Ginevra rinsed the towel, hung it neatly, and turned.
"Do we have extra toothbrushes and cups?" she asked.
Her mom paused, then smiled slowly.
"We do," she said.
"I'll get them later."
Her mom's eyes crinkled.
"You got up early to get things ready for Jaynara, didn't you?"
Ginevra glanced away, cheeks colouring the tiniest bit.
She didn't deny it.
Her mom patted her arm, beaming.
"I'll make breakfast. Your dad can open the shop later. I need to go to the market anyway."
She marched back to the bedroom to drag her husband out of bed.
"You two can sleep in," Ginevra started. "I'll cook."
Her dad seized the opportunity.
"Let her cook," he said instantly. "Her food tastes better than yours."
"You ungrateful old man," her mom snapped. "Our daughter finally has a day off and you want her cooking for you? Get up. You still have to call Mr. Wilbur about the crayfish."
"Alright, alright."
Ginevra retreated to the kitchen anyway.
By the time they'd finished arguing in the bedroom, the smell of eggs and scallions was already drifting down the hall.
Her dad liked to brag that she'd inherited her grandfather's cooking skills. Her maternal grandfather had been a chef, the one who'd won over her iceberg of a grandmother with nothing but food.
The breakfast spread on the table proved him right: golden egg pancakes, steamed buns, porridge, pickles.
Raindrop trotted in circles around the table leg, nose twitching.
"I keep telling you, our daughter will never starve," her dad said proudly, reaching for a pancake—
Smack.
Her mom whacked his hand with spoon.
"You touch that again and you're fasting today."
He withdrew, sulking, then brightened.
"You used to be so gentle," he grumbled. "What happened after she was born?"
"What happened?" she snorted. "You got better. That's what."
Ginevra took her pancake to her room, not particularly interested in her parents' ongoing rom-com.
She looked around her tidy, small bedroom.
There wasn't actually anything to clean.
She cleaned every day.
Her gaze drifted to the clock.
Was Jayna awake yet?
Across town, Jayna let out two loud sneezes in the bakery queue.
"Who's cursing me," she muttered, rubbing her nose.
Good thing she'd come early.
The line already snaked halfway down the block.
When the owner finally rolled up the metal shutter, the crowd practically surged.
She clutched her place in line like it was a life raft.
"Buying pastries for your sweetheart?"
Jayna turned.
A kindly woman behind her smiled knowingly.
"Me?" Jayna pointed at herself.
The woman chuckled.
"Young and pretty, all dressed up, queuing for fancy pastries on a holiday morning," she said. "Looks exactly like my daughter when she's going on a date."
The word sweetheart hit Jayna square in the chest.
Her ears went pink.
"I—I'm buying them for a friend," she stammered. "I'm visiting her house today and wanted to bring something nice."
"Oh, my mistake then," the woman said, still grinning.
Jayna fell silent, thinking.
She was tall, sure, but her face was still soft, still very obviously student-aged.
How did she look like someone dating already?
She was good, but she wasn't that bad.
"Why did you think it was for… someone special?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"Because you've been smiling the whole time," the woman said. "Just like my girl when she's about to see her boyfriend."
She chuckled and turned back around.
Jayna looked down at herself, then at the boxes she finally bought.
"Then what am I so excited about?" she muttered as she got off the bus near Ginevra's complex. "Going to her place to freeload food? Studying together?
"Or just… Ginevra."
She stopped dead on the sidewalk.
The thought settled in, quiet and heavy.
It made her just as flustered as her earlier conversation.
"Why are you zoning out there?"
A cool voice drifted over from behind her.
Jayna jumped.
She spun around, hand over her heart.
"You trying to give me a heart attack?"
Ginevra opened her mouth for a retort, then actually saw her.
And forgot what she'd been about to say.
Jayna had dressed up.
The small floral dress made her look softer, her hair fell just right, and there was a lightness in her eyes that made it hard to look away.
"It failed?" Jayna asked nervously, touching her cheek. "I didn't blind you? Total failure?"
Ginevra's gaze flickered.
"You look… very nice," she said bluntly.
Jayna hadn't expected such a straightforward answer. Her ears went hot immediately.
She ducked her head and noticed the bag in Ginevra's hand.
"Hey, you bought strawberries?"
"House didn't have any fruit," Ginevra said. "I went to get some."
Jayna grinned.
"For me? Because you know I like strawberries?"
"Too much talking."
Ginevra headed toward the gate.
Jayna scrambled to keep up, stopping to greet the security guard politely.
The complex was older but lively—kids riding bikes, grandparents playing cards in the shade.
Jayna's own neighbourhood was nothing like this: big, cold villas with tall hedges and neighbours who barely knew each other's names.
She was still looking around when Ginevra stopped.
Jayna nearly walked straight into her.
Ginevra glanced at the pastry boxes in her hand, then casually took them from her.
"I can carry—" Jayna started to protest, then saw the stubborn line of her jaw.
"Okay," she said, tucking her hands behind her back instead.
With that, Ginevra was juggling both the fruit and the pastries.
Jayna, blissfully unburdened, focused on staring at Ginevra.
She'd worn casual clothes today, hair down beneath a baseball cap.
Still neat, still clean—but softer.
"You sleep well?" Jayna asked.
Ginevra gave her a puzzled look.
"I told you I needed beauty sleep last night," Jayna said. "But I kept waking up. It's so weird."
Ginevra's fingers tightened imperceptibly on the bag handles.
That… sounded familiar.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"I guess I was just too excited," Jayna went on, raising her brows.
"Excited about what?"
"Going to your place, obviously," Jayna said promptly. "Reconnaissance. See if our great Ginevra has any dark secrets hidden in her room."
Ginevra gave her a flat look and led her into the elevator.
Jayna rocked on her heels, still smiling.
"If I find anything," she added, "you'll have to pay me hush money.
"By the way, these pastries? Calista recommended the shop. The queue was insane."
"Don't do that again," Ginevra said quietly, pressing the button for the fifth floor.
"Don't do what?"
"Get up so early just to line up for this," she said. "It's not worth it."
Jayna laughed.
"It's my first time at your house. I can't come empty-handed," she said. "And they're for your parents, not you.
"You can just… steal a couple."
The elevator shuddered to a halt.
Old, slightly rattly.
If she'd been alone inside, she might've been a little nervous.
At the apartment door, Ginevra pulled out her keys.
"Wait," Jayna blurted, grabbing her wrist.
"Let me… psych myself up."
Ginevra let her hand fall, waiting without comment.
Jayna slapped her own cheeks lightly, inhaled and exhaled a few times.
"Okay," she said, shoulders squaring. "Ready."
The door swung open.
Instant regret.
She hadn't even asked what Ginevra's parents were like.
What if she said something wrong?
"Ah, ah, look who's here~!"
A warm, amused voice floated out before she could say anything.
A pretty woman with an easy smile appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on an apron.
"Mrs—Mrs. Volkova, hi!" Jayna bowed reflexively. "My name is Jayna."
"Oh, you don't need to be so formal," Ginevra's mom said, obviously delighted. "Come in, come in!"
She urged Ginevra to take Jayna to the living room.
Jayna tugged on Ginevra's sleeve and whispered, "Shoes?"
She knew about the cleanliness thing.
Ginevra took a brand-new pair of slippers from the cabinet and set them at her feet.
"For me?" Jayna asked.
"Just bought them," Ginevra said.
Jayna smiled and slipped them on, shuffling along at half-speed next to her guide.
She did, in fact, look very demure in her little floral dress.
Ginevra set the pastry boxes on the coffee table.
Jayna quickly took one and offered it with both hands.
"Mrs. Volkova, I heard this bakery is really good," she said. "I wanted you and Mr. Volkova to try some."
"You shouldn't have," Mrs. Volkova protested happily. "You kids don't even have your own income yet. Coming is enough; bringing gifts is too much!"
Jayna shook her head.
"They really are good," she insisted. "They sell out super fast. If you like them, I'll bring more next time."
"That's not necessary," Ginevra's mom said, heart practically melting. "You just come empty-handed next time; Auntie will already be overjoyed."
She started back toward the kitchen, then stuck her head out again.
"Don't just sit there," she scolded her daughter. "Wash some fruit, make some tea, ask Jayna what she likes.
"And stop standing there like a calculator bead!"
Properly jolted, Ginevra got to her feet and picked up the bag of fruit again.
"I'll help," Jayna said, tugging her sleeve. "I can wash fruit."
"Strawberries, apples, grapes. Which?" Ginevra asked instead.
"Strawberries and apples," Jayna answered without hesitation.
Ginevra left her in the living room and headed for the kitchen.
Left alone, Jayna swung her feet slightly, eyes wide as she took everything in.
A small three-bedroom apartment, neat and comfortable.
She could guess which door was Ginevra's.
Her eyes kept drifting toward the half-closed door.
She really, really wanted to peek.
But when Ginevra came back balancing a tray, Jayna straightened, hands folded in her lap like a model student.
"Here."
Ginevra set the tray down in front of her.
One side held a pile of plump strawberries with their green tops neatly removed.
The other had apple slices cut into tiny rabbits—ears, tails, everything—with two little forks laid across the rim.
"They're so cute," Jayna breathed. "I almost don't want to eat them."
"Your mom made these?" she asked.
Ginevra frowned.
"I did," she said. "Washed them. Cut them."
Jayna's eyes went even wider.
"You cut these?" she yelped. "Your knife skills are this good?"
Ginevra nodded matter-of-factly.
Jayna picked up an apple rabbit and studiously inspected the smooth edges, the clean cuts.
No hesitation.
No jagged bits.
Perfect.
"Not eating?"
Ginevra speared a bunny slice and held it out.
Jayna accepted it, then put it back down.
"Wait," she said. "I have to get pictures."
She whipped out her phone and took several photos from different angles.
Ginevra waited patiently until she was done, then handed the slice back.
"Thank you," Jayna said, taking a bite.
Crisp, juicy, sweet.
Her eyes lit up.
"So good!"
She reached for a strawberry and popped it in her mouth.
"Oh my god, the strawberries too!" she mumbled around it. "They're perfect."
She ate a few more before noticing Ginevra watching her.
Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she speared a strawberry and held it up.
"Try one," she said. "They're amazing."
"I had some already," Ginevra said.
Jayna ignored that and pushed the berry closer.
When Ginevra still didn't open her mouth, she brushed it against her lips.
"Too late now," she said cheerfully. "It touched you. You have to eat it."
With no escape route left, Ginevra took a bite.
"Well?"
Jayna stared, eyes ridiculously hopeful.
"…Good," Ginevra admitted.
"Then eat with me," Jayna said. "Half the fun is sharing."
She offered her the other fork.
Ginevra took it, muttering, "I didn't want you to not have enough."
"So you weren't eating because you were saving them for me?"
Ginevra said nothing, choosing the smallest piece of apple and chewing it with extreme seriousness.
Jayna looked at the heaping plate.
Did this woman think she was a pig?
Well.
She could probably demolish the whole plate herself.
But still.
Her chest tightened a little.
It was too much.
Too good.
To distract herself, she flicked on the TV with the remote.
"Your mom won't mind me freeloading?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"No," Ginevra said. "She's happy."
"Really?"
Jayna's smile came back full force.
"She likes me, then? Of course she does. I'm universally adored."
Ginevra wanted to argue.
Then, for some reason, didn't.
"Weren't you here to study?" she said instead. "Where's your homework?"
Jayna froze, fork halfway to her mouth.
…Ah.
Right.
That was her official excuse.
"Well, see, the thing is," she began, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I put all my homework in a folder by the door so I wouldn't forget it.
"But I had to get up early to line up for pastries, and I was in a rush, and I, uh, left the folder on the shoe cabinet.
"Total accident."
Her eyes turned big, wet, and guileless.
If Ginevra hadn't already seen several of her "accidents," she might've believed her.
"Fine," Ginevra said. "Our homework's the same. You can use mine. Tell me what you don't understand."
Jayna squealed and threw her arms around her.
"You're the best," she said, voice syrupy. "The absolute best.
"Also, what body wash do you use? You smell amazing."
She burrowed closer, nose pressed into the warm skin of Ginevra's neck, inhaling deeply.
Ginevra went rigid.
The heat of her breath brushing over the sensitive skin just below her ear made every muscle in her body lock up.
No one had ever been this close to her before.
Ever.
"It's just… normal," she said stiffly. "Normal body wash."
She tried to prise Jayna's arms off and scoot to the far end of the sofa, but it was like trying to peel off a koala.
Jayna latched on again immediately, nuzzling her neck with her nose.
She really did have a habit of rubbing herself all over Ginevra.
"Jayna."
Ginevra forced her voice into a warning tone.
Jayna lifted her head.
For a moment their eyes met: Ginevra's dark and faintly murderous, Jayna's bright and entirely unrepentant.
She reluctantly loosened her grip, preparing to pull away—
"Wow, your relationship is great, huh?"
Ginevra's mom set two cans of coconut juice down on the table, eyes sparkling.
"Since she could walk, Ginevra's never let anyone touch her," she said cheerfully. "You're the first person she's let hang off her like that.
"You two keep playing. I'll finish cooking."
She disappeared back into the kitchen, humming.
Jayna blinked once, then twice.
Then she turned very slowly back to Ginevra, a grin spreading across her face.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered. "I'm the first."
Ginevra grabbed the nearest strawberry and shoved it into her mouth.
"Eat," she muttered, ears flaming.
"Or I'll throw you out."