(A/N: I imagine that this is set between episodes 1x05 and 1x06.)

They always managed to run into each other on the quad between fifth and sixth periods. Brenna was pretty sure Greer premeditated it, to be honest.

But one day, there was no meet-cute. Not that Brenna mentally referred to those moments as such – but of course, Greer did, and on a regular basis.

Ford sat next to Brenna, chattering on and on about another ridiculous social gathering her parents were making her attend in two days. Brenna caught key words like 'mainstream' and 'the patriarchy'. It was typical of their conversations, and she would normally have been more attentive. But it was half past noon and there was something missing – a certain smile, a particular fluttering in the pit of her stomach that she had allowed herself to become accustomed to.

Greer had made it a habit to share a smile and a word or two with Brenna as she was crossing the quad from history to math, and Brenna had made it a habit of pretending like her response – a ridiculous smile, most typically – was not out of the ordinary.

But it was out of the ordinary, for Brenna.

Today, however, instead of looks that teetered precipitously close to flirtatious and an eye roll from Ford, Brenna just felt a whole lot of emptiness. And maybe a small pit of worry beginning to form deep in her stomach.

She managed to make it all the way through the rest of the school day and halfway home before she texted Greer. She typed the message in just a couple of seconds, but then she stared at it for a full two minutes before finally sending it.

I missed you today.

That was simple enough, right? It conveyed her disappointment at not seeing the girl, but it didn't sound desperate, either.

Brenna got off at her stop and started walking the last few blocks to her house. Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand, and she nearly jumped when the vibration finally came through, signifying a return text.

I'm sick :(

Brenna's heart dropped. She stopped walking, trying to plant her feet in order to cease the spinning of the world for a moment.

Just the normal kind of sick, Brenna.

The second text came quickly on the heels of the first, and Brenna couldn't have been more appreciative. A breath of relief escaped her chest, even though she knew it was ridiculous to have expected anything else.

You know, the kind where all you want to do is drink 7-Up and watch animal planet all day?

Brenna teetered on her toes in the middle of the sidewalk. She contemplatively chewed on the inside of her cheek before decidedly typing out a response.

Are you fully stocked? Need chicken soup or something?

Oh God, Brenna blanched the second she hit send. I sound like a complete idiot. Like her family doesn't have Campbell's in the cupboard already. Way to go, Brenna.

She sighed and continued walking home. Her inner-chastisement was soon interrupted by another text.

You know what, my mom is doing a low salt diet thing, and we don't have a single can of soup in the house. Chicken soup would be unbelievable. But I don't want you to have to go to all that trouble, I'll just do without until I feel good enough to go out and get some myself.

This time, Brenna didn't hesitate or second-guess her reply.

Don't be silly. I'll be there as soon as I can.

She smiled to herself and then ran the last half-block to her house. Climbing the steps two at a time, she burst inside and made a beeline for the kitchen. With a quick hello to her grandma and a kiss to the woman's cheek, Brenna grabbed a can of chicken noodle soup and a package of saltines and then bounded back out of the house, stuffing the items into her bag as she went.

As Brenna walked determinedly towards the nearest T stop, she thought about the nauseated, terrified reaction she had experienced at the possibility of Greer being sick. Why had she nearly panicked at the thought?

Because we're friends, obviously, she thought to herself. It was normal for friends to be worried about each other. It was normal for friends to long to see each other. But was it normal for friends to long for each other?

She was jostled by the crowd and ended up back in reality, just in time to catch the next train to her intended destination.

When Brenna arrived at Greer's home, she experienced a fair amount of intimidation by the incredible façade of the building. It was a gorgeous home, to say the least. But Brenna didn't experience any of the usual derision she felt when she thought of the typical 'preppy' kids that went to her school. Somehow, this house and the staff that inevitably helped maintain it and the likely quite lavish furnishings all seemed…normal to Brenna. Because they were part of Greer's existence, they were somehow less foreign, less excessively extravagant. Greer was part of a certain crowd, yes, but Brenna had already come to see that she was a lot more than that.

She rang the doorbell.

Very quickly, a sharply dressed woman answered.

"You must be Brenna," she said, smiling kindly and gesturing for Brenna to step inside.

"Yeah, thanks," Brenna replied. She took in the foyer and smiled at the numerous pictures she saw of Greer lining the walls.

"Greer's room is up the stairs to the third floor, then straight ahead. Shall I show you the way?"

"Umm, no, that sounds simple enough." Brenna opened her bag and extracted the can of soup. "I brought this for her," she finished lamely, handing it off to the woman. She didn't really know how to ask her to do something with it; it all felt too much like ordering someone around.

Luckily, the woman had a great deal of tact.

"Oh, how nice of you. I'll have it warmed up and sent up in about half an hour, okay?"

"Great, thanks! I'll just, umm—"

"You go right ahead, dear."

Brenna made the climb to the third floor. She took in every detail along the way, all the while imagining Greer living in this space – the way her hand must touch this banister the same way, how she'd drop her tennis bag just there, if she'd sit beneath that particular window while reading a book…

"Ugh, Brenna, what is wrong with you?" she mumbled to herself before climbing the last couple of steps. "Ridiculous sentimental nonsense…"

Greer's room was straight ahead. Brenna knew it when she saw it – the pink, embellished letters spelling out the girl's name were a dead giveaway.

The door was closed. Brenna tapped her knuckles lightly against the wood.

There was no answer. She bit her lip. Finally, she slowly twisted the doorknob, trying to make as little noise as possible. Opening the door just enough to squeeze inside, Brenna entered the room. She softly shut the door behind her and then took in the sight before her.

The television in the room was on, and some nature show was playing quietly in the background. The covers of the bed were quite tousled, and Brenna could just make out a shock of blond hair at the head of the bed.

"Greer?" she whispered.

There was no response.

She moved closer. Greer was clearly sleeping. Brenna watched her for a few seconds. There was a certain veil of peacefulness over her facial features that made it hard to look away.

Finally, Brenna lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed. The movement was just enough to slightly rouse her friend. Eyelids fluttered open.

"Hey," Greer breathed out. And, somehow, she smiled.

"Hey yourself."

Brenna didn't know what came over her next. But she couldn't resist – it was like an invisible force caused her hand to move of its own accord, and the next thing she knew, she was pushing Greer's hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

It was an intimate gesture, Brenna thought, surprised at herself. Maybe it was too intimate? Maybe she had gone too far?

But the smile on Greer's face shone a few watts brighter, and her sleepy eyes closed languidly at the contact.

Emboldened by this response, Brenna left her hand gently resting on the side of Greer's face. Her thumb stroked the skin in front of the girl's ear. A soft mewling sound of contentment escaped from Greer's throat, and she tilted her head slightly, so that more of Brenna's skin was touching hers.

"I don't want to get you sick."

Brenna chuckled. "Yeah, please keep all of your cooties to yourself."

"Was that laughter I just heard, Brenna Carver?" Greer's voice came sleepily, but with a clear hint of amusement.

"Maybe," Brenna said. "I'm still imitating you, after all."

"Sincerest form of flattery, you know."

Brenna couldn't help but feel a softness in her heart as she stared at Greer. She could imagine exactly how she must look – like she was staring at a puppy or something.

Adoration, that was what she felt in her chest every time she thought of the other girl.

Nothing less. But…perhaps something more.

"Yeah," she sighed, a bit wistfully, "I know."