Elena stood in front of the mirror for what felt like the tenth time, holding up two different tops and trying to see if either made her look like she wasn't overthinking this.
"Green," Leah said, sprawled across the bed behind her. "You always look amazing in green. Alexander's going to have heart palpitations."
Elena sighed, letting the cream-colored sweater fall onto the chair. "It's not a big deal. It's just a festival."
Leah grinned. "And I 'just' own three hoodies, two pairs of jeans, and zero self-restraint when it comes to teasing you. Babe, it's obvious this is a date."
Elena rolled her eyes. "He hasn't called it that."
Leah propped herself on her elbows, smirking. "Oh, so because he didn't say the word 'date,' the green-eyed ballerina kiss-you-on-the-cheek moment didn't count?"
Elena shot her a look. "I told you, that was—"
"Spontaneous?" Leah interrupted. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that while you spend twenty minutes debating which necklace makes your collarbone look more 'I'm not even trying.'"
Elena groaned, tossing the silver chain onto the dresser. "I just don't want to look like I'm trying too hard."
"You won't," Leah said, picking up the green knit top and handing it to her. "You'll look perfect. You always do."
Elena slipped the top on, smoothing it over her jeans. She glanced at herself in the mirror again—simple makeup, hair styled just enough to look effortless. The pendant from her parents rested against her collarbone, catching the light.
"Okay," she said finally. "This works."
Leah tilted her head. "Girl, that works."
As Elena reached for her boots, Leah sat up and crossed her legs. "So, what's the plan? Is Alexander going to show you all the greasy wonders of festival food, or are you two going to pretend you're not hopelessly into each other while you share fries again?"
"Leah."
"I'm just saying, he's got the whole brooding, quiet, 'I can fix engines but I also secretly write poetry' vibe. It's hot. No wonder you're losing your mind."
Elena laughed despite herself, tugging on the first boot. "He does not write poetry."
"You don't know that," Leah said, smirking. "I bet he's got a secret notebook somewhere."
Elena straightened up, adjusting her jacket. "It's just… I don't know. I like being around him. It's easy."
Leah's expression softened. "Then that's all you need. Don't overthink it. Just enjoy the day. You don't have to define anything yet."
Elena nodded slowly. She'd been telling herself the same thing all week, but hearing it from someone else made it settle a little easier.
She checked her phone—no new messages yet. He'd probably be on his way soon. The thought made her chest tighten, in a good way.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I think I'm ready."
Leah grinned, leaning back on her hands. "Ready for the festival, or ready for Alexander?"
Elena shook her head with a laugh. "Both, maybe."
As she grabbed her bag, Leah called after her, "Don't forget to tell me everything when you get back. Especially if this actually turns into the kind of date you're both too stubborn to admit it is!"
Elena rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. Because maybe… maybe Leah wasn't wrong.