Author's Note: Hi, everyone! I had a plot bunny hopping around and since Valentine's day is coming up I decided to type it up and let it run. The separations indicate not only a switch in perspective but also a passage of time. So I hope you like it. Please enjoy!
Chapter Title: The New Neighbor
"Hey, Deku! I'm going to the gym!" Bakugo yelled, positioning the strap of his heavy gym bag diagonally across his chest.
"Don't be late for work!" Deku called back to him from the bathroom where he was cleaning.
"What are you?! My wife?!" he shouted in return, mad as a hornet already.
Izuku Midorya was most certainly not his wife - or his husband or his boyfriend. He was his roommate and an overprotective, fussy, old womanish best friend. Deku had been his best friend since UA, all the way through the grueling work study programs and internships, until they both finally became professional, licensed heroes.
"No! I'm just - "
"I'm outta here!"
Bakugo shoved open the door and stalked out only to nearly be bowled over by a man carrying a large, obviously heavy, box. The man with the box was on a mission and would not be deterred so it was up to Katsuki to get out of the way.
"What the hell..." he muttered, hugging the wall in order to not get ran over.
Shifting the strap of the gym bag, he started off again. His progress was once again halted as two men, both carrying large moving boxes, met him at the top of the staircase. Sighing in exasperation, he backed up and leaned against the railing while waiting for them to pass.
Looking out into the parking lot, he saw the big white moving truck with a fourth man at the back hauling out another box. Before that man could reach the stairs, he hurried down them, taking them two at a time, to be on his way. As the man passed him, he glanced up to see the other three coming out of the apartment next to his and Deku's.
"Oh, great," he muttered to himself. "A new neighbor."
Damn. It had been so nice not having to deal with a neighbor. Living on the end in the corner apartment, they shared only one wall with a neighbor, but it was still inconvenient as fuck.
For three months, there were no annoying sounds at all hours of the day. No gross cooking smells. No snot nosed brats knocking on their door to aggravate them. No thumping and bumping and things that go 'I'm coming' in the middle of the night. That shit was particularly annoying.
"Ugh," he groaned. The three months of blessed peace and being neighbor free had regretfully come to an end.
~\..'../~
Takara Otani parked her car in the middle of the apartment complex parking lot facing the back of the building. So this is her new home. For several minutes she stared at the four story white rectangle with black metal railings lining the open corridors and staircases laid out in aesthetically pleasing symmetrical horizontal and diagonal lines. Supposedly there is a pool on the roof. The place looked nice enough.
Taking in a lengthy breath then releasing it in a wheezing sigh, she grabbed her purse and made her way to her second floor apartment. Her door was second from that of the corner apartment. She had neighbors on both sides. Fantastic.
There was a key pad on the wall beside the door and no place for a key on the push down door handle. Rifling around in her purse, she grabbed her phone to get the code her manager had texted to her along with the address of the apartment he rented for her.
A door opened to her left drawing her attention. The neighbor from the end apartment stepped out carrying a bag of trash. He appeared to be in mid twenties with short but messy dark green hair and eyes to match. Freckles dotted his cheeks giving him a sweet little boy look.
"Hi," he greeted her, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers in a little wave.
So cute!, she thought. Takara found herself smiling at him with a big, idiotic grin on her face. She chastised herself that he was a human being not a puppy and a grown man to boot.
Clearing her throat and wiping the stupid grin from her face, she gave him a friendly smile. Getting a grip on herself, she rejoined with a simple 'hello' foregoing the wave.
"My name is Izuku Midoroya," he introduced himself. "Welcome to the neighborhood."
"Thanks. I'm Takara Otani," she returned. "Is there really a pool up there on the roof? I couldn't see anything from the parking lot."
"Yeah. It's there. There's also a hot tub and a picnic area with a grill area as well. It's pretty great. I can take you on a tour of the building if you would like," he offered.
"Oh, yes, please. That would be great!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Let me just take this to the trash bin," he said, indicating the bag in his hand.
"Well, actually, I think I'll go with you. I'll need to know where that it is anyway, right?"
"I suppose so. I guess we'll start the tour. Follow me."
Takara dropped the phone back into her purse. She followed him down the stairs and around the side of the buildings where a row of dumpsters and recycling bins were hidden behind a ten foot privacy fence.
"The bottom floor of the building is a storage area. There's a space set aside for each apartment if you need to store anything," Izuku informed her pointing at the door beside the garbage enclosure. "The laundry facilities are down here as well."
"How long have you lived here?" she asked as they began the climb back upstairs.
"About five years. My buddy and I moved in after getting our first jobs. Having a roommate to share expenses with is a necessity nowadays," he said, bypassing their apartments to go to the stairs at the end of the open corridor leading up to the next floor.
"That's true. I don't have a roommate. I guess that makes me lucky. But it does get lonely sometimes," she admitted, as they made their way to the roof.
But then again, most of the time I'm too busy to be lonely, she thought to herself.
"Takara Otani," he murmured aloud to himself. "Why do I recognize that name? You must make a lot of money to live alone. Are you someone famous? Hmmm...but why would you be living here? I'm sure you could afford a much nicer place. That name sounds so familiar...but I just can't place it."
Takara listened to him ramble. At first she feared he might be a little off in the head. Soon she realized he was simply sorting through his thoughts aloud so she did not interrupt. He might figure it out soon. She was famous in certain circles.
Being a performance cellist, both solo and in orchestras, she was known only among those who avidly followed classical music. Otherwise she was completely unknown on a larger celebrity scale.
Having a small and exclusive fan base had its perks. She could go anywhere without getting mobbed or photographed. The people who did recognize her were respectful and polite. She had no idea how idols did their job with their crazed fans lurking around every corner.
Also her music paid the bills - and quite nicely - offering her a modicum of luxury without being extravagant. She lived in a one bedroom apartment without a roommate. And this place even had a pool.
They stepped out onto the roof. The white cement rectangular pool was situated in the middle of the rooftop. A smaller square structure, the hot tub, was connected to it at one end. Nothing fancy but functional. Just like the building itself.
Black metal lounge chairs with white cushions and black metal grated tables with matching chairs surrounded the pool. There was a covered pergola in the corner with a complete outdoor kitchen including a grill, a sink, and other basic amenities found in a regular kitchen.
"Oooh, that's incredible," she murmured, walking over to get a closer look.
"Yeah. It's almost better than the kitchen in the apartment. But of course there's only one like this so I guess they were able to splurge a bit," Izuku said, following behind her.
There was a cook top with four burners attached to the massive grill. There was a sink with hot and cold water. There was even a small refrigerator! The big metal basin in between the refrigerator and sink could be filled with ice and drinks. There were wooden prep tables and a chopping block.
Takara looked out across the roof to see an unhindered view of the city.
"Wow...this is amazing. Simply amazing," she murmured. "I think I'm going to like it here... just because of the rooftop alone!"
They shared a short chuckle.
"The view of the city at night from the rooftop is absolutely breathtaking," Izuku said as if reading her mind. "It's also pretty up here at night because there are tons of little fairy lights strung all over the place. It can be quite romantic."
Fairy lights? What grown man says fairy lights in reference to the tiny white Christmas lights people used for general decorating all year long? This guy named Izuku Midoriya. She liked this guy. What could his roommate, his best friend, be like?
"Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you and your friend meet me up here tonight? We can grill and drink and swim," she suggested, getting excited over the idea. It would be a fun way to get to know her new neighbors and better than an awkward meet and greet in one of their apartments.
"That sounds great!" he exclaimed, sounding as excited as she felt. "Why don't we go to the grocery store together? You'll need to know where that is too."
~\..'../~
When Bakugo returned home from a fabulously uneventful day at work, he walked into an empty apartment.
"Yes!" he shouted triumphantly, tossing his gym bag into the corner of the foyer.
He needed to go downstairs to wash his clothes, but it could wait. He had been given the gift of time alone and far be it from him not to accept that gift. His supply of clean clothes was running low and man would those workout clothes stink by the time he got around to washing them but whatever.
Kicking off his shoes and throwing off his shirt, he crossed to the living room to go straight to the entertainment center. There was a note taped to the doors behind which lay his game system. Snatching it off, a sinking feeling weighed down his belly as he began reading.
Change into your swimming trunks. Come up stairs and meet the new neighbor. The note from Deku advised him. At the bottom was scrawled a tiny postscript: P.S. There's beer!
"Fuck," he muttered. So much for getting a few hours of game play without being told to be quiet.
Bakugo did as the note suggested. After putting on his black swim trunks with the flames on the bottom, he grabbed a towel and headed up to the roof. As soon as he stepped out onto the cement covering the rooftop, he heard laughter - the laughter of a woman.
Oh, joy. The neighbor is a woman. That meant boyfriends and fights and drama galore. So far all he could see of her was long, wavy black hair that almost reached her waist. She wore a red skirt covered in large white hibiscus flowers and leaves. Or was it one of those thingies...what are those things called? Well, whatever, it was most likely something she was wearing over her swimsuit.
Setting his face in a scowl, his teeth firmly clenched, he approached the gazebo where Deku and the woman stood talking and laughing. She turned to face his roommate holding a frosty brown bottle in her hand while he nursed a soda. A grown up and still wouldn't take a single fucking drink.
"Oh, here he is," Deku said when he saw him. "Hey, Kacchan! Over here!"
"Goddammit, Deku," Bakugo muttered under his breath. "I see you! How many fucking places could you be up here?"
"Oooh, he's a charmer," he heard the woman say to Deku.
Bakugo's angry eyes shifted to her. She was the same height as Deku, built curvy and solid. She wore a strapless red bikini top that tied in between her generous and heavy looking breasts. Her belly was flat despite the voluptuous width of her hips below her narrow waist. She did have a good hourglass shape.
His eyes moved upward to her face to see her eyes were scrutinizing him as hard as he was her. Her almond shaped eyes roamed down to his feet then back up to meet his. The irises were gold; not just yellow but a brilliant almost glowing molten gold color. She looked like a humanized black cat. A sleek, pampered black house cat.
Reaching into the basin of ice, she pulled out a bottle of beer. Using her bare hand, she twisted off the cap. Apparently she did have some muscle. Extending her arm toward him, she invited him to join them and take the beer.
"Thanks," he said, reaching for the proffered beer.
The tips of his fingers brushed along the backs of her fingers as he took the bottle out of her hand. Surprisingly, she did not flinch away from the unexpected touch like most women would have with their excessive sense of modesty and propriety. He found some women's shyness to be coy bullshit hiding a very dirty mind and even dirtier intentions.
This woman confidently met his gaze without a hint of coquettishness or flirting. Just a steady, even gaze with possibly a hint of curiosity.
"Kacchan, this is Takara Otani," Deku announced to introduce her.
"Takara Otani? The cellist?" Bakugo asked, recognizing the name.
She choked on her beer. Obviously she did not think an uncouth cretin like him would recognize her because she is an elite musician. He actually had several of her songs downloaded into his workout playlists. She played both classic and modern pieces. She gave the classic pieces a new life, adding faster tempos and picking up the pace to make them more modern. She scaled back the modern songs to impart a classic sound. Nothing extraordinary or new in the world of music but he liked her style.
"How do you know who she is?" Deku questioned him, genuinely astonished.
"Despite what you might think, I did not just crawl from under a rock or slouch out of a cave this morning," Bakugo shot back.
"Are you sure about that?" she retorted, arching a dark eyebrow questioningly.
"Lady," he growled, straining with everything he had been taught to hold his temper. "You don't even know me well enough to try to insult me."
"I wouldn't dare," she returned, the three words heavy with sarcasm. She stuck out her hand as if requesting a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Kacchan."
He took her hand, squeezing it. She did not wince nor did the smile on her face waver as he continued adding pressure. "You can call me Bakugo."
She squeezed back, compressing his hand until he would swear he felt the bones move deep in his hand. He gritted his teeth, stubbornly holding the cold stare from her deceptively warm honey colored eyes while her hand continued crushing his. Apparently holding onto that bow required more strength than he thought.
"Nice to meet you, Bakugo," she said, letting go of his hand. "You like meat, Caveman?"
"Of course I do," he rejoined, taking a long draw from the frosty bottle and letting the unwanted nickname go. He had kind of asked for that one.
"Good. We've got plenty. Your friend here is a good cook. You don't know how lucky you are," she told him, picking up a piece of grilled steak from the platter where Deku put it after removing it from the grill. She held it out to Bakugo. "Say aahhh..."
"No, thanks. I can feed myself."
Stepping forward, getting so close to her he could feel her body heat but not touching her, he reached around her to pick his own piece of steak from the plate. After moving back, he crammed it in his mouth. She ate the piece held between her fingers.
"So what brings you here, Miss Hoity Toity Musician? Decided to slum it with the common folk?" Bakugo asked, leaning against the chopping block behind him.
"I guess that's fair. I made a rude assumption about you, now you're making one about me. Touche," she muttered, raising her beer bottle in a salute to him.
"Are you two going to fight all the way through dinner?" Deku asked, turning the chicken kebabs. "We're all going to have indigestion if you do. Come on. Let's have a good meal and some fun. We're going to be neighbors after all."
"Wanna go for a swim?" Bakugo asked her.
Takara put down her beer and untied her sarong. The red swimsuit bottom tied with big red bows on her full hips.
"Race you," she challenged, dropping the cover up where she stood.
Pivoting on her heel, she took off in a full run toward the pool. Holding her hands above her head, hands together and fingers pointed, she dove into the water. Her body sliced through the blue water with ease and grace.
"She's beating you," Deku warned him, knowing he could not resist a challenge.
"Shit," Bakugo growled, taking off like a bullet shot out of a gun.
When he got to the other end of the pool, he broke above the surface huffing and puffing. She stood there leaning against the side of the pool with her elbows casually propped on the cement apron behind her.
"You had a head start," he grumbled as she smiled him, a lazy, arrogant grin.
"I know. But you should always be prepared for the unexpected," she returned.
He growled like an angry dog. She sounded like one of his mentors when he was in training. He placed his hands on the side of the pool and lifted his body out making sure to sling as much water as possible on her. She held up her hand as if that would save her from the shower and laughed.
Bakugo retrieved his beer and fresh one for her. When he turned back around, he saw her lowering her body into the hot tub. Perfect. He went to join her. A good long soak would be great after a hard workout this morning then a long, boring patrol during his shift at work. Sometimes being a hero was positively mind-numbingly boring.
"Here," he said gruffly, shoving the beer bottle in her face.
"Thanks," she responded, taking it from him.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Bakugo boldly inquired sending her into another coughing fit after she inhaled her sip of beer in surprise.
"N-no...I d-don't." She paused to allow another fit of wheezing coughs to pass as she tried to eject the fluid she inhaled from her lungs. "Why? You offering?"
"Hell, no I ain't offering," he shot back vehemently. "I was just wondering how much noise and bullshit we are going to have to deal with."
"Oh, I see," she murmured, chugging her beer. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse."
Somehow he doubted that. Takara Otani is a musician after all. But he would not mind listening to her play her cello. It would be like having his own private concert. Having her as a neighbor might not be so bad after all.
~\..'../~
An ear splitting screech woke Bakugo out of a dead sleep. What the hell was that? Was that woman screaming? Laying in his bed, every muscle taut as a board, he listened and waited. Another straining shriek.
He jumped out of the bed and rushed out onto the balcony to look around. When his head rotated to the right, he saw her sitting on her balcony. The blinding early morning sun formed a halo around her entire body. She was sitting in a straight backed white wooden chair, the massive glossy cello held firmly between her knees. Her fingers nimbly turned the pegs and plucked at the strings.
"Holy shit," he sighed.
That awful sound was her tuning her cello. His fingers gripped the thin black metal railing until his knuckles turned white. She seemed completely unaware of his presence as she continued the tuning.
Her long hair covered half of her face. The eye he could see was closed making him realize she was tuning the instrument purely by sound. Studying her, he watched the muscles in her arms writhe under her skin with each movement. She was very toned.
Shifting in the chair, the white cotton nightgown gathered up to her thighs shifted higher revealing more of her legs. He could see the black lines of the beginning of a tattoo there. How far up did it go and what was the design? He shook his head. Why the fuck did he care?
Takara reached up, tossing her hair back over her shoulder to reveal her face. Keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her face to the newborn sun while raising her bow and placing her other hand high on the neck, her fingers resting on the strings. She began to play.
Low, sad strains poured out into the air. They rose slightly then fell again. Closing his eyes, Bakugo saw the color blue. Nothing else - just the color blue: a dark, almost black hue like the night sky.
She continued to push and pull the bow, the notes getting faster, higher. The color lightened to a royal blue, the color of the deepest parts of the ocean. The speed and volume flowed in and ebbed away like ocean waves. The sound was soothing. The tension in his body began to drain away. A little bit more stress got carried away with each downbeat. His fingers loosened on the railing until his hands dropped down by his sides.
As the last of the tension fled from his shoulders, Bakugo opened his eyes. Takara sat in the chair, bow still poised to play but not pressed against the strings. The tears on her cheeks glistened in the early morning sun. As corny and stupid as it sounded, she looked like an angel to him, almost glowing.
Deku stepped out onto the balcony from the living room. Puzzled, he stared at his friend then followed his line of vision over to Takara then back to him.
"Hey, Kacchan, what - "
Bakugo pressed his finger to his lips as a silent sign for him to be quiet, but Takara must have heard. Her eyes fluttered opened then turned to them.
"Oh, hi, guys," she greeted them. "Did I bother you? I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't apologize, please. That was beautiful," Deku complimented her sincerely.
Damn, Deku. Why do you always have to be so fucking nice?, thought Bakugo.
"Thank you," she returned, lifting the cello from the ground as she stood.
"Would you like to come over for breakfast?" Deku asked.
I'm going to fucking kill him, Bakugo's inner voice swore. Just because she's our neighbor doesn't mean she had to become a major part of our life.
"Oh, no. I can't. I actually need to be at the music conservatory in an hour. I have an upcoming concert. Would you two like to come? I'm allowed up to four tickets for friends," she explained.
"No!" Bakugo answered quickly.
However, his decline of the invitation was overshadowed by Deku's eager, "That would be great! Thanks!"
"Great! Come over about seven for dinner. You can get the tickets then."
"You don't have to bribe us with food, you know," Bakugo snapped grouchily. "We'll take the damn tickets if we have to."
"Oh, I'm not. You don't have to come over for dinner if you don't want to."
"We'd love to," Deku interjected.
Dammit!
~\..'../~
Takara arrived home about six. Damn. No time to cook. There was still plenty of beer and sodas from last night's cook out in the refrigerator so beverages were covered. Searching for the nearest pizza place on her phone, she placed an order online and headed for the shower.
Leaving her hair to air dry and forgetting about make up, she pulled on a pair of short denim shorts and a magenta colored t-shirt. The ding of her doorbell signaled that either the pizza or her guests had arrived.
Her bare feet slapped on the hardwood floor as she ran to answer it when there was an insistent pounding knock. Although she did not know him well yet, she assumed that could only be one person. Opening the door, her suspicions were proved right when the perpetually grumpy blond with the dandelion hairdo scowled at her.
"It's good to see you too, Bakugo," she greeted him.
Izuku elbowed him out of the way. He held a chocolate cake in his hands. Her favorite. A man after her own heart.
"I brought you something. I hope you'll like it," he said, holding it out to her.
"I'm sure I'll love it," she assured him, taking the cake from him. "Come in, come in."
She left the door open behind her as she took the cake to sit on the gleaming white counters that were still bare. She had yet to unpack the boxes of plates and glasses and all of the other kitchen implements.
"I thought you said you were cooking dinner," Bakugo said as he looked around the kitchen with no pots and pans in sight much less food.
"I never said I was cooking. I said there would be dinner," she countered despite that not being her intention at all.
The doorbell rang as if on cue.
"Ah hah!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "There it is now. Hope you like pizza."
"I'm getting a beer," muttered Bakugo, opening the refrigerator.
"Help yourself," she called out although he already was buried waist deep in the refrigerator. Digging in her purse for a tip, she grabbed a few bills and headed for the door. "Grab me one too! And a soda for Izuku!"
Opening the door, Takara took the half a dozen pizza boxes from the teenage girl delivering them and crammed the wad of paper bills into her hand.
"Thank you, ma'am!" the girl responded happily.
"Thank you. Have a good evening!" With her hands full, she struggled to reach the handle.
Seeing her predicament, the girl bowed and closed the door for her. Takara took the pizzas to the counter where the two men stood sipping their drinks.
"Do you even have any plates?" Bakugo inquired, managing to sound condescending.
"In the box marked plates," she replied. "I didn't know what you liked so I got a variety. Pepperoni, plain cheese, supreme..."
"Oh, we'll eat anything," Izuku said, opening the boxes to reveal each pizza.
"Which box?" Bakugo asked, lifting the top one from the stack at the end of the counter.
"Oh, shoot, it's on bottom." Takara lifted the next one out of the way, setting it to the side.
Bakugo ripped open the box, and she reached inside to grab the three plates on top of the stack. Miraculously, they were not broken. Conveniently, she had wrapped them in cloth napkins so they had napkins as well. She gave each of them a plate and a napkin.
"Sorry I don't have a table," she apologized.
"We can sit at the counter. No big deal," Izuku assured her, taking a seat on one of the backless wooden bar stools.
"I see you've got a couch and a television. Got any movies?" Bakugo asked, sitting down.
"Kacchan," his friend muttered, his freckled cheeks reddening with embarrassment over him inviting himself to an extension of her hospitality.
"No, but the cable is hooked up." Takara took the empty stool between the two men.
"That will do. When is the concert?" Bakugo inquired, taking a big bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand.
"A week from this Friday. You're not working are you?" she asked, guessing at his reason for asking.
"I can ask for that night off. What about you Deku?"
"Same here. It's early enough notice I can just take the night off."
"Fantastic. I got all four tickets so you can find two more friends to bring."
"There's no one else you want to give them to?" Izuku asked.
"I've never had the time nor desire to make friends before. Typically I've lived in dormitories with fellow musicians. The music industry is highly competitive and there's lots of egos and petty jealousy to contend with. You can't really trust anyone. They'll do anything for that top spot or to be the star of the show. Not very conducive to genuine, lasting friendships. Other times I've lived in hotels or secluded houses by myself," Takara explained.
"The last two sound kind of nice to me," Bakugo mumbled around his mouthful of food.
"Not everyone is antisocial by choice. Besides, I don't think you're as bad of a guy as you pretend to be," she said.
"Think what you want."
"You're right. He's not a bad guy," confirmed Izuku.
"Shut up, Deku."
After dinner, they moved to the couch, chosen drinks in hand. Bakugo took it upon himself, of course, to be the one in charge of finding a movie snatching the remote off of the end table.
Feeling a bit chilly, Takara went to her bedroom to dig through boxes to find a blanket. Thank goodness when she packed everything up she had the presence of mind to label the boxes by which room they belonged in. Some she had gone a step further and added a description of the contents. Next time, she would do that to all of the boxes.
She grabbed two blankets just in case Izuku needed one. She seriously doubted the hot head would require any extra warmth.
When she returned the men had claimed the ends of the cushy leather couch which reclined leaving her the middle and no recliner. That was fine with her. She preferred to sit cross legged or with her legs tucked under her to the side. Sitting down, she leaned more toward Izuku.
"Need a blanket?" she asked, holding out a fuzzy gray one to him.
"Sure," he replied, accepting her offer. Shaking out the blanket, he spread it over both him and her.
Okay then, she thought, rolling up the second one and tucking it behind her neck.
Bakugo was still scrolling through the cable listings. Sitting so close to Izuku, both of them under the blanket, the warmth from his body soaked into hers. Being so close to another human being, one who had no expectations of her and did not want something from her, was comforting. Being with the two of them was enjoyable. Despite Bakugo's sometimes nasty attitude.
Takara sighed with contentment. Her eyes stung a little. It had been a long day. She blinked her heavy eyelids slowly, moistening her dry, burning eyes. When the effort to part her eyelids became too much, she allowed them to remain closed. Resting them for a minute could not hurt.
Hours later, she awakened to a dark apartment except for the TV that was still on. But she was not alone.
Izuku had slid down to rest his head on the puffy arm of the couch. Her head lay on his belly, and her arms were wrapped around his legs that he had raised onto the couch, his knees bent and his bare feet pressed against her belly. Bakugo's head rested on her padded hip. He had wrapped the other blanket around his shoulders.
Not sure what to do and too tired to move anyway, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. When she woke up the second time, it was morning and she was alone. The guys had covered her up with the blankets, turned off the TV, and locked the door behind themselves.
Settling back down into the blankets, holding them tightly around her body, she smiled. Tamping down her enthusiasm bordering on giddiness, she erred on the side of cautious optimism. Maybe she had found two good friends. Hopefully she would not have to be lonely anymore.