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River beats me to the door, my hand in the air ready to ring the bell. She steps back. “Come in. It’s freezing out there.”

I follow her down the hall and into the first-floor apartment. The smell of fresh-baked cookies greets me. I groan. “Hmmm. Skye baked again?”

“No, I baked.” River locks the door behind us.

“Yeah, right?” I laugh. “You’re not into the culinary arts, unless it involves eating it.”

“I did!” She crosses her arms over her chest.

I laugh again.

“I can bake!”

“Sure you can. Where’s Skye?” I look down the small hall for a sign that she’s here.

“She’s at Logan’s.”

“She baked before she left?” I drop to the blue couch and hug a pillow against my chest.

“Dude! I got the cookie dough balls out of the freezer, put them on a pan and then put the pan in the oven for twelve minutes at three-fifty.” Her hands go to her hips.

“Ha! I knew it. You didn’t make the cookies.”

“Well, no. Skye made them, and froze the extra cookie dough, but I”—she points at herself—“baked them.” She’s so proud of herself too. “And if you want any, you better stop laughing and follow me.” She points over her shoulder.

I take a seat at the island dividing the small kitchen and living room. “I love your apartment, the open floor space, it makes the place seem bigger.”

River’s on the other side of the island, opening and closing cabinets. “Yeah, I’m going to miss this place when we graduate.” She grabs two mugs. “Hot chocolate, coffee, or tea?”

“Tea, please. But aren’t you staying here while going for your master’s?”

“I’m not sure. Our lease ends in July. But the way things are going with Skye and Logan, I wouldn’t be surprised if she moves in with him.”

She goes through the motions of making us tea.

“Wow? That fast? Hasn’t it been only a couple of months since they began dating?”

“A little over two months. Their first date was on our birthday.”

I flinch a little at that memory. My faking drunkenness to cover up a panic attack. “That’s kinda fast.”

“Maybe? But when you know he’s the one, then why wait?” She takes a sip of her tea.

I hold my mug, warming my hands. “I don’t know if I believe in insta-love.”

“Why not? Everything is possible, right?” The oven timer beeps behind her.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone you never met?” Jesus! What am I asking?

River grabs an oven mitt. “What? Like falling in love with someone famous?”

“No, not that. I mean a real person you’ve talked to, but never face-to-face.”

She opens the oven, peers inside. The heavenly scent of cookies rolls over me like a warm and sweet hug.

River takes the pan out of the oven. “Like someone you met on a dating app?”

“Not exactly. More like an online friend.”