Mila needs a little help.

Class ended for the day and I felt exhausted. So many people talking about things they knew nothing about, speculating and creating little stories in their heads as if they had nothing better to do.

I was getting cranky. Honestly, if they weren’t talking about the people I cared about, I wouldn’t be paying attention at all. I guess that’s what having a social life is. Better get used to this side of things as well.

Anyway. I was free that Wednesday. No gym, no work, and we didn’t have any urgent homework I couldn’t do on the weekend. I wanted to do something with the girls, and I didn’t care what. I just wanted to hang out, so I was happy when Mila approached me at my seat.

“H-Hey. O-Oliver?”

I raised an eyebrow. Mila was fidgeting nervously, eyes cast down, not meeting mine. I got worried. “What is it?”

“Um… I need to ask you a favor.”

“Hm? Of course. What do you need?”

“C-Could you come to my house?”

My heart skipped a beat. Going to Mila’s house? “R-Right now?”

“You can’t?” Her face turned to disappointment.

“N-No, I can. It’s just… I didn’t expect it. Do you need help with something?”

Mila nodded. “I bought a new desk for my room.” She grimaced, which told me there was more to the story. “I’ll tell you more on the way.”

I went with Mila to her car, and as she drove, she began to explain.

“Like I said, I… bought a new desk. It arrived yesterday.”

“Do you want me to help you assemble it?”

Mila scowled. “I had a fight with my dad.”

“Ah?”

“I bought the desk without telling him, and he got mad that I was… wasting money again. He said he wouldn’t help me with it. I… tried to do it myself, but…”

Mila’s eyes lightly shone with the threat of tears, and her voice sounded weak.

“...I should be able to help. I’ve put furniture together before.”

Mila giggled and quickly rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

We arrived at her house, and it suddenly dawned on me that I had gone to Grace’s and Sarah’s houses, but not to Mila’s. Hers was about 30 minutes from school by car, in one of the residential districts in the middle of the city.

Her house was much more… normal than Grace’s or Sarah’s. It was a big, two-story house of a contemporary style, blocky. But still, a normal house instead of a private spa or something mansion-looking.

Mila parked her car in the garage. We got out and I followed her to the front door. I was nervous, anxious, but tried my best to keep it inside and not let it show. I wanted to believe I was getting a little better at that.

“Mom? I’m home. I brought my friend.”

From the other end of the house, the kitchen, from what I could see, came out an older version of Mila. Long, silvery white hair, green eyes, slender body… A few wrinkles on her face said she had to be in her mid to upper 40s, maybe.

“My, my! Is this Oliver, then?”

I flinched. “H-Hello, ma’am! I’m Oliver Brooks. A pleasure.”

The older woman giggled softly with a hand on her mouth. “I see my daughter is a liar. She said you couldn’t speak a word, but you’re doing just fine.”

“Mom!” Mila moaned, stomping her foot. “I said he didn’t speak ‘at first’!” Her cheeks were rapidly going red. My GOD she’s cute.

“Right, right.” Her mom laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s good to finally meet you, Oliver. My name is Yana. Mila has told us so much about you.”

I smiled sheepishly. “She has?”

“She says you play the guitar. Are you in a band?”

“N-No, I only play as a hobby.”

She looked me up and down and smirked. “So this is your type, Mila.”

“Okay, that’s it!” Mila grabbed me by the sleeve of my jacket and dragged me away. “We’ll be in my room!”

“Be good, you hear?”

We stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Mila’s face was completely red now, and seeing her like this was so amusing that it distracted me from my own nerves.

“Sorry about that. She’s never believed that I don’t have a boyfriend and thinks I hide them from her.” She sighed. “My little brother is at a friend’s house and my dad’s not home yet. Hey, if you don’t want to be here…”

I chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like me. What gives?” That got another giggle out of her. “Come on. Is the desk in your room?”

“Actually…”

She pointed to it. It was in a box right next to the stairs. A narrow box, but big.

“I couldn’t even carry it upstairs.”

“Hmm.” The stairs went straight up without any corners, so… “Yeah. Leave it to me.”

Lifting it was a little awkward, but it wasn’t heavy. I set it against the steps and pushed it up along the wall. I had it on the second floor in a moment and allowed myself to feel a little proud. I couldn’t have done that three months ago.

Mila laughed. “I could barely even lift it and you carried it on your own!”

“Where’s your room?”

“Over here.”

I followed Mila to the left of the hallway, pushing the box along the carpeted floor. I got the box inside her room and gave the place a look. Blue carpeted floor, a single bed, a walk-in closet, posters of bands she enjoyed on the walls, and… a desk full of clothes.

I was speechless. Not only did she still have her old desk here, but it was fully occupied with a pile of clothes?

“Mila…” I said with a hint of disappointment.

“L-L-Let me clear this up! Ahaha…” She grabbed the pile of clothes as a whole and threw it on her bed. I winced.

I shook my head. “Let’s clean your room first.”

“N-No, you don’t need to do that!” she said, ashamed.

“I refuse to work in a messy space,” I told her bluntly.

Mila fidgeted. “Okay…”

We started separating her clothes, making a pile of what she had to throw in the wash and what she could put away in her closet. There was some of her underwear in the pile, but at that point I’d seen enough women’s underwear not to get flustered. In fact, I still had Grace’s panties well hidden in one of my drawers.

“What are you going to do with this one?” I asked her, pointing to her old desk.

“I’ll give it to my brother, but it doesn’t fit through the door as it is.”

So we had to disassemble it first. I took care of that in about 15 minutes, since that one was pretty easy to put together. The problem was the new desk.

It was big, so we’d have to move some other stuff, and this one was not as easy to put together. It didn’t look like it was from a big store. “Where did you buy this?” I asked, baffled as I looked at the instructions. We’d need our own screwdriver.

“From a carpenter I follow on social media…” she admitted shamefully. “It looked really nice in the picture!”

I rubbed the back of my neck. Well, nothing for it. Time to get to work.

“Do you have a screwdriver?”

“I’m home.”

The man’s voice we heard from the first floor made Mila flinch.

“...My dad’s home,” she said.