Mina ends up sleeping the night at my house. We sit on old lumpy mattresses together at 1am, my fingers slowly weaving through her hair as I intertwine her waves into braids. We’ve reached that lazily tired mood that comes late at night. Sleepy, but not feeling so tired that you need to sleep. It’s a nice feeling.

"Done," I say softly. My legs are crossed and I’ve pulled her in close to me so that I can do her hair properly. I can hear the smile in her voice even though she’s facing away when she says,

"Thanks." bringing her hand up and running her fingers up and down the braid. 

I really, really want to kiss her right now. "You’re real good at braiding," she says, still facing away. "I never had the patience."

"But that’s what I like about you," I’m quick to reply. "Braiding is such a waste of your life. You only concentrate on the things that matter."

I watch the back of her shoulders move up and down in a shrug. "Meh." Her hands fall back into her lap. 

And suddenly I feel the urge to say, "I really, really like you, you know?" 

"Yeah," she replies. "And I really, really like you too."

"But I’ve just gotta ask . . . that night at the party, when you said you were ok with me kissing you . . . how long had you, well, been ok with it? Like . . ." I trail off, uncertain how to word the question. 

Mina gives a small giggle, and I can tell she's blushing. "Momo..." she swivels around to face me, laying her hands on my knees and looking up at me. "Wasn't it obvious? All it took was one class together. Getting coffee and then hanging out in the park and telling that little girl you are her from the future only confirmed it. I, like, had a major crush on you after know you for only an hour."

"I- really?" I ask shyly

She laughs at me."Yes."

"Oh, well." I say lamely. Am I really so naive?

She laughs again, and leans forward and kisses me. It's what I've wanted to do to her ever since we came home to my place. I reach a hand up behind her neck, steadying her and leaning in more. A deep, slow kiss, since neither of us are exactly bounding with energy, but great all the same.

She breaks it, saying "We should get to bed."

I'm forced to agree. We have school tomorrow, afterall.

But I can't sleep. Lying less than a meter away from me is my girlfriend. I turn and roll over so many times that at last Mina props herself up on her hand and just stares at me, eyebrows raised. 

"I can’t sleep," I admit. Her eyes wander away from my face, like she’s considering this, thinking. Then she rolls over and snuggles into me, pulling my arm over her waist. 

"How is this?" she mumbles into the pillow. Her neck is centimeters in front of my eyes, and I run a finger gently down it, my mouth curving up when she shivers. 

"Perfect," I breathe out, shifting my position so that I’m a little more comfortable. I doubt I could feel any more content, and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

I wake early. 5.30am. I twist my neck and breathe out almost in relief. Last time Mina slept over, she’d left before morning. But here she is, sleeping, breathing softly, eyes closed, face looking so much at peace. I stare at her for a full five minutes, unable to pull my eyes away, before deciding that maybe I should get up and make some breakfast. It should be something special. Besides, there’s a nagging doubt in me that it’s weird for me to just watch her. It feels a little stalker‐ish.

I pull back the covers carefully, not to wake Mina, and ease myself out of bed. The floor is cold, and I pull a pair of socks on before wandering through to the kitchen. What to make, what to make? Oh, of course . . . waffles, with maple syrup. We only have instant coffee, so I’ll pour some juice, and we can grab a mocha or something on the way to school. I open the cupboard doors – wincing when they squeak – and get to work. 

At 10 past six Mina wanders in. 

"Mmm," she says, coming up behind me. 

I feel her wrap me in a hug, peering over my shoulder to see what I’m cooking. 

"Yum,'' she says. 

I swallow. She’s pressed up against my back, her arms wrapped around my waist and chin resting on my neck. A piece of her hair tickles at my cheek. I twist my head to the side slightly, towards her. "Yeah," I’m able to get out.

She lets go of me, and I’m able to breathe a little easier. She ambles over to the table, pouring herself a glass of juice. 

I put the last waffle I’m cooking on top of the others in a stack on a big plate, and bring it over to the table. 

Mina immediately swipes one, then grabs the maple syrup bottle and pours it generously over. "Oh, God, this is so good," she says when she takes her first mouthful. "You really have got to teach me to cook sometime." 

I shrug expressively. "The offer’s still open."

She grins, and snaps her fingers. "My place. After school. Tomorrow."

We eat with our fingers, ripping pieces of fluffy waffle off and dipping them in maple syrup. It’s good, and I can’t stop giggling throughout most of the meal. Towards the end, though, my mom walks through the kitchen door. "Momo," she says. "What are you – oh." Her eyes flicker from me to Mina. "I didn’t know you spent the night here, Mina," she says.

"Um, no, ma’am,'' Mina says, instantly polite. 

"It was late when we got back," I hasten to explain. 

"Mina, you’re of course welcome in our house anytime," mom says, addressing her, but then she turns to me. "All the same, I’d like a word with you, Momo."

"Um, yeah," I say, getting up from the table, following my mom outside, a little nervously but also a little defensively. 

What’s she going to say to me? 

My mom shuts the door to the kitchen. Looks at me for a minute. "We need to talk about setting boundaries," mom begins.