She had spent all night on it. Which was a pretty stupid thing to admit, but there was something about the crust that she couldn't quite get right. Dakota had thought it'd only take one more try, and then maybe another, and another; until she had a few misshapen pizzas laying haphazardly all over the kitchen and the final, close-enough-to-perfect pizza snugged away right in a simple cardboard box. It was... not as good as anything Will could make, but cut her some slack. She didn't know much more about cooking other than pouring a bowl of cereal.
Her parents always wanted her to be some sort of trophy wife, but they didn't quite set her up for that, did they? She sighed and bit her lip, not wanting to think about them then, but more about her dear friend... whatever he was, whatever he was doing inside. Dakota would be kept busy between her son and student council work on Valentine's Day, so maybe, she thought, she could possibly be a bit braver, a little bit earlier that year?
She hadn't even knocked on the door yet, psyching herself out, food in hand, face as red as her warm hair. When she finally brought herself to tap against the frame, her heart jumped and she considered making a last ditch run for it.
But that would be stupid. Don't be stupid, she silently scolded herself.
