“LILY! Where’s the good Febreze?! The one that smells like—like—vanilla or success or something?!”

My voice echoes down the hall as I frantically wipe down the dining table for the third time. I’m sweating. The vacuum’s still running in the background. My hoodie is halfway off because I got tangled trying to dust the ceiling fan.

“She’ll be here in twenty minutes,” I mutter to myself, tossing a pillow off the couch just to fluff it better.

Lily strolls in with a juice box, cool as ever.

“You know she’s not here to inspect the house, right?” she says between sips. “She’s coming to tutor me.”

I look up from furiously scrubbing the baseboards. “Yes, she’s coming to tutor you in our house. Which currently looks like a war crime against cleanliness!”

Lily raises a brow, unimpressed. “Leo, she sat in this exact room last week while you were wearing pajama pants with dancing corgis on them.”

I freeze.

Then hiss, “And I’ve never recovered.”

She flops onto the couch like this is the best entertainment she’s had all week. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her? I mean, you only nearly faint every time she smiles.”

I chuck the throw pillow at her.

She dodges easily. “Seriously, I’ve seen you brush your hair before she comes over. Brush your hair, Leo. You don’t even do that for picture day.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up—!”

Ding-dong.

The doorbell.

Time stops.

My soul leaves my body.

Lily grins. “Oh no. It’s her.”

I freeze like a statue, eyes wide.

She hops up, patting my shoulder like a soldier off to war. “Don’t worry, loverboy. I’ll let her in. Try not to faint.”

She’s halfway to the door.

And I’m standing there with a broom in one hand, a spray bottle in the other, my heart absolutely sprinting.

She’s here.

You’re here.

And this house? Still doesn’t look good enough for you.