Emma frowned as time ticked down on screen. If they didn't start icing soon, they'd never make it. The past hour had been excruciating. Everyone was running around and that blonde guy with a mustache really needed this win. She raised her spoon to her lips, but dropped it again as the tower of cupcakes started leaning to the side.

"No. Please, no!"

She leaned forward as the chefs on Cupcake Wars raced around the kitchen. It'd become her tradition to watch Cupcake Wars when she was stressed out. She loved cupcakes and she loved watching people make them (or fail to make them). It was perfect. The cupcake tower fell to the side.

"No!"

She slammed her back against the couch, forgetting about the bowl of cereal in her hands. The cold milk sloshed all over her, dripping onto the couch. She cursed and jumped into the air, holding the bowl away from herself. She had been so good about keeping clean all summer, hadn't broken a single appliance, and now, right before Snow came back, she had spilled milk everywhere. She leaned forward and set the bowl on the coffee table. This was her last pair of clean jeans, too.

Emma shook her head and walked over to the kitchen. The apartment was open-concept. The kitchen and the living room were only separated by a table, and their bedrooms were three steps away, right across from each other. When they studied, they'd just leave their doors open and shout questions at each other. Well, Emma would shout questions and Snow would shout answers.

At least the couch was a cheap, plastic one and she hadn't destroyed the $600 leather monstrosity that Snow's parents had tried to give them when they moved in almost a year ago. Snow's parents continually tried to give them lavish gifts, but Emma always reminded them that Snow needed to learn how to do things for herself. After all, wasn't that the point of college?

She had allowed Snow's parents to give them a few things, though. They paid rent and utilities on the apartment. The kitchen was well stocked with the essential appliances, like a smoothie maker that Emma always used before she went to the gym. Snow had a million bowls for baking and (apparently) their Tupperware collection was to die for.

Emma placed the bowl in the sink and grabbed a fistful of paper towels off the roll. Snow had spent the summer in Africa helping orphans or something. Sometimes, it frustrated Emma that she was already doing things with her life and Emma hadn't even picked a major. She'd started a couple years late, so she was starting her sophomore year while Snow was starting her senior year. Emma felt like she was behind that arbitrary 'adult' schedule.

Technically, however, she had until her Junior Year to pick a major, so she wasn't actually lagging behind. She was taking all the Gen Eds she'd need and a couple fun classes, like Archery. Sighing, Emma took the paper towels into the living room and started wiping the couch off. She needed to stop comparing herself to other people. It's like Snow always said: We all have our own pace and that's fine. Of course, that philosophy fell by the wayside every time Snow decided that Emma needed a lecture about "motivation" and "self-actualization."

She heard the front door's lock click. The door squeaked as it opened and Snow backed into the apartment, struggling to drag her suitcase behind her. She tripped over the door frame and landed on her butt with a crash. Emma started laughing at the sorry sight.

"Speak of the Virgin," Emma chuckled.

"This bag is so heavy. Step-Mother made me bring all my debutante dresses. Apparently, spending two months abroad didn't do anything, and I need to be reminded to lose weight." Snow reached up towards Emma, wiggling her fingers. Emma dropped her paper towels onto the couch and hauled her to her feet. They shared a smile.

"Welcome back," Emma said, pulling her into a hug.

"Wait." Snow looked over Emma's shoulder. "Why is the couch wet?"

Emma blushed. "Uh, I was watching Cupcake Wars."

"Oh, of course." Snow sighed and kicked her bag. "I guess I should unpack."

Emma grabbed the suitcase and nodded towards Snow's room. "Lead the way."

"Thank you so much. You know, I really missed having you as my personal busboy."

Emma just scoffed. "Please, you got to travel to Africa and put 'Saving Orphans' on your resume. I just spent two months sweating my butt off and not choosing a major."

Snow paused with her hand on the doorknob of her bedroom door. "You still haven't decided? You only have a year left."

Emma avoided her eyes and shuffled awkwardly. "I know. I'll pick one."

"Alright." Snow opened the door, turned the light on, and entered the room. Emma winced at how cute it was. Snow had a nice floral bedspread and flowing pink curtains. Her desk was immaculate and all of her books were sorted by genre and author. Emma would tease her for her color-coordination, but really, she was almost jealous. She just sort of kicked things around her own room when she needed to find something. Whenever Snow mentioned it, she would reassure her it was 'a system'.

She dropped the suitcase onto Snow's bed with a grunt. "Why lift weights when you can be a debutante?"

Snow chuckled and started unzipping the bag. "Very funny. Maybe I'll start going to the gym with you!"

Emma chuckled weakly. "Yeah, that'd be great."

Snow narrowed her eyes at her, slowly opening her closet door. "You're making fun of me."

"What? No! But we should find someone at your level? You can work out together!"

Snow scoffed. "Right. You're way too advanced for me."

"No, I just…like the alone time." Emma looked away. "You're great, but…"

"Yeah," Snow said, nodded slightly, "The lone wolf needs alone time."

Emma threw her hands up. "Snow, you know what I mean! Everything is just so…much. It's hard to be so surrounded sometimes. It's nice to be able to go somewhere, put some headphones on and just exist."

"Alright," Snow said, smiling affectionately. "I'll leave you in peace." She started pulling dresses out of her bag. "So, why can't you decide on a major? You've been indecisive for years."

Emma groaned and flopped down onto Snow's bed. She ran her hands over the fluffy quilt. "I don't know! It's just such a huge decision. I barely graduated high school, I only got into college because of my foster program, and I have no life skills."

"Just pick something."

"That's easy for you to say. You've known that you wanted to teach since you were three. I have no direction." Emma turned her head to look at Snow, suddenly serious. "What am I going to do when you graduate? We only have one year left together."

Snow frowned. "I don't know. You'll be ok, Emma. You've come a long way since you called me crying two years ago. I'm glad you did, by the way. I was worried about you after we graduated and you disappeared."

Emma shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry. Thanks for helping me."

"Always." Snow put down the dress in her hands and smiled gently. "Why don't we have some hot chocolate? We can throw in marshmallows." She put a finger up before Emma could interrupt. "With cinnamon, of course."

"Thanks, mom." Emma followed Snow into the kitchen.

"Why don't you pick one class? One that isn't a general requirement. If you like it, major in it."

"Even that's a hard decision! What if I just toss our course list into the air and throw a marshmallow on it? Where it lands, there I go."

"Well—"

"Too late." Emma ran into her room and headed to her desk. The stack of papers had been sitting there mocking her for weeks. She'd printed all the courses out, but she hadn't actually looked through it yet. She grabbed the stack, walked back into the kitchen, and tossed them into the air.

"You're picking that up."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Emma grabbed a marshmallow, licked it, and threw it up. "Alright. Hello, Future!" They watched the marshmallow as it landed with a plop. Emma squatted down and read the class. "Introduction to Political Science." She looked up at Snow, who was rooting around in the fridge. "Snow!"

"There's no milk."

"I wanted cereal. Did you hear what I have to take?"

"Intro to Poli-Sci. That'll be fun."

Emma sighed and fell back onto the floor. "We'll see." She pouted for a minute before sitting up again. "Hot chocolate?"

Snow put her hands on her hips. "Maybe if you went to the grocery store more than once a month, we'd have enough milk."

Emma groaned and got to her feet. "Granny's?"

"Yeah."

"Cupcakes?"

"One day, you'll get sick of those."

"Never."