So, I'm alive. I know it's been six or so months, but I am alive, just really, really lazy. Sorry guys!

I saw this post post on tumblr with various inspirations for oneshot AUs, and one was "both ended up at Denny's at 3 AM," and I thought, "Hey, I could make that work." So shout out to that tumblr user for getting me inspired enough to actually write, and I hope you enjoy this last minute thing that I kind of threw together!

~Leila

[Also, to those waiting for a Reality update, I promise I'm working on it. This is just a HUGE chapter and I have a lot of content to cover and a lot of loose ends to tie up. Thanks for your patience and sorry for my laziness!]

Warning: language, innuendos {there is indeed 1 f-bomb here within. proceed with caution.}

Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda or any of its characters, nor do I own Denny's. If I did happen to own either franchises, I would be a millionaire and living in California with my own pet dolphin.

[11:26 PM]

If there's one thing I hate most in the world, it's calculus. After that, it's clowns, then probably mushy grapes, and then, my fourth most hated thing in the world, working the late shift.

Just saying the words "late shift" in public will cause anyone who works in an "Open 24 hours!" diner within a 12 mile radius to flinch.

The Denny's Diner late shift is a whopping nine hours, starting at 9 PM and ending when someone comes to relieve you at 6 AM. Not only are you expected to stay awake all nine hours (they charge you an hour's pay for every hour you sleep), but the late shift is when all the crazies come in.

See, no one really goes to Denny's. You end up at Denny's, usually drunk or in the middle of a life-crisis. Sometimes both.

It wouldn't be so bad if I only had to work the late shift every few months or so. The empty diner is the perfect place to study and do homework, not to mention people usually tip better after you counsel them through their problems.

However, my boss has recently discovered that I am a friendless loser, and that is the single worst thing that can possibly happen to you in a workplace. I say that for two reasons:

1. Your chances of being scheduled to work the late shift go up by 5683%

2. When you say you have plans to try to get out of said late shift, your boss will actually look you in the eye, burst out laughing, and say, "Oh come on, Link, let's be serious here! When do you ever have plans?"

Which, to his credit, is true.

I'm currently a sophomore at Hyrule University, studying to earn degrees in law and psychology. I've always wanted to be in behavioral science of the Hyrule Bureau of Investigation, and instead of going out to parties or bars, I've dedicated all my free time to accomplishing that goal. When I'm not at classes or studying for said classes, I'm at this damned diner working to pay off college.

I guess I kind of shot myself in the foot by choosing court case files over friends, but I don't really mind. It's not like I literally have no friends; I have at least three.

They're all at this big party tonight that I would have gone to if I didn't have to work the stupid late shift. It's supposedly the biggest party of the year, thrown by the notorious Harkinian twins, whose parents pretty much run Hyrule's government.

I heard that last year, there were people bungee jumping off the roof of their mansion and they poured a bunch of strawberry gelatin packets into their hot tub. Personally, I'm not about jumping off roofs, but I would gladly go to get some Jell-O and leave.

But I can't go get Jell-O because I'm working the damn late shift, and I learned the hard way that once you're in the late shift, you don't leave the late shift. Once, I left the diner to go to the gas station right next door to buy a jar of peanut butter (you don't ignore sudden midnight cravings), and even though I was literally gone four minutes, my boss found out somehow and nearly fired me over leaving to get a jar of peanut butter. It was totally worth it, though.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and sat up to look at the clock on the wall.

Only 11:30. Six and a half long hours to go.

Groaning, I slid off of table three, which I had been using as a bed for the last twenty minutes or so. Table three is the comfiest hard, laminated tabletop in the diner.

I had already done all my required cleaning duties, so there was nothing left to do but homework and cry about my nonexistent social life, two of my favorite activities.

On the plus side, it was a lighter homework load. Unfortunately, most of it was calculus, which kind of made me want to drive a fork through my eyes.

With a loud, dramatic sigh, I plunked my backpack onto table three and pulled out my calculus book. For a minute or two, I sat there and stared at it, making a whining noise in the back of my throat.

Stupid math. Stupid late shift. Stupid college.

I was about to open the book and actually do my work, when I was saved by the startlingly loud ringing of my phone. It was some chipmunk version of a rock and roll song, signifying that it was my pain-in-the-ass little sister Aryll calling.

"Yo," I greeted, pulling out my notebook.

"Hey, big bro," she responded in her familiar southern drawl. "What's cookin' good lookin'?"

Shoot. I can't just say that I'm working the late shift. Even though she's two years younger, Aryll has uncomfortably strong maternal impulses and is always sticking her nose in my personal life. She's always on my case for "not getting out enough" and "not living my life." I'll say I'm at some party. I'll have to be really convincing...

"Um, I'm at a really hardcore rager right now with all my friends," I told her, gnawing on the eraser of my pencil.

"Gee, that sure is one quiet hardcore rager."

"I'm currently outside taking a hardcore drug break with all my hardcore drug friends."

A loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by an unnatural squelching noise and a bunch of swearing in a foreign language. Cringing, I covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"You okay in there, Ganon?" I called.

He yelled back something that sounded vaguely like "duck stew." He's a real sweetheart, that Ganon.

"Who was that?" Aryll asked.

I brought the phone back to my ear. "One of my hardcore drug friends."

"Uh-huh. You on the night shift right now?" she asked.

"Yeah. Which is kind of like a hardcore rager, except it's not hardcore and there's a lot less sex."

"You are such a dork."

"Am not."

"Dude, you literally own a pair of keaton boxers. That's pretty dorky," Aryll pointed out.

"I- you…" I fumbled for words. "Subject change. What's going on in your neck of the woods?"

"Well, we have a three day weekend, so I thought I'd drive up to see you. Sound okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, that'd be awesome! We really need to catch up," I told her.

"Okay, glad you think so because I'm already in the car right now. I just passed Kakariko, so I should be there in like five hours?"

I grinned, shaking my head. That's the other thing about my sister. She's completely crazy. "Sounds good, Ary. We can grab breakfast when I get off work, I don't care where."

"How 'bout Denny's?" she joked.

"Um… no. I take my former statement back. I don't care where we go as long as it's not Denny's or anything similar to Denny's," I corrected myself.

"You're no fun. I was really in the mood for some shitty pancakes."

"I'll have you know that Denny's only employs the best cooks in the whole country."

As I spoke, yet another bang sounded from the kitchen, accompanied by yet another loud string of colorful words.

"I'm not even going to ask what that was," Aryll sighed.

"I told you, it's one of my hardcore drug frie-"

I was cut off by the sound of a car horn, followed by a muted, "HEY! THERE'S THIS REALLY COOL THING CALLED A TURN SIGNAL, ASSHOLE!" There was another brief pause, and I guessed she and the other driver were exchanging middle fingers. "Sorry 'bout that," Aryll said, voice returning to the phone. "But there is this 90 year old hippy in front of me who apparently doesn't know how to work their goddamn car."

"You should rear-end him," I encouraged. "That'll show him who's boss."

"Wow, you're just full of good ideas, aren't you? Hey, I'm gonna let you go, but I'll see you in a little bit, okay?"

"Yup! See you, Ary. Can't wait to catch up."

"Probably feels nice to actually have plans for once, doesn't it? Ha! I'm kidding. Love you, Link!" she chirped.

My heart sank a little as the pitiful truth of what she said dawned on me. "Love you," I echoed half-heartedly, hanging up.

When your little sister coming to visit you is the biggest thing to happen in your social life all year, you know you're a pathetic loser. Sighing, I stared down at the half-finished calculus problem I had done during the phone call.

I had suddenly lost all motivation to do work and felt more like sulking about my lack of friends. Slamming my math book closed, I buried my hands in my hair and sighed again.

I didn't mean to become a tragically lonely shut-in. It just kind of happened.

I had been slowly damning myself with every invitation I turned down, every smile I ignored, and every phone call I let go to voicemail. So now I'm in alone in a Denny's diner on a Friday night with nothing but a calculus book to console me through this crisis of my own.

"You know, I need to stop feeling sorry for myself," I said aloud. My voice filling the silence of the diner helped me feel slightly less alone. "I need to surround myself with positivity. I need a hot chocolate!"

"Get it yourself," was the thickly accented reply from inside the kitchen.

The slightly more positive atmosphere I had created for myself vanished within an instant.

"I was planning on it, Ganon," I sighed, sliding out of the booth.

"And stop talking to yourself. You don't even say anything interesting, you're like a whiny soap opera that no one likes," he continued.

"You're a whiny soap opera that no one likes," I muttered under my breath, snatching up a mug and stomping into kitchen and towards the hot chocolate machine.

"What was that?" Ganon demanded, raising his eyebrows and looking up from the explicit-looking magazine he was flipping through.

"I didn't say anything!"

The Gerudo chef narrowed his eyes at me before hissing a word I'm assuming isn't nice in Gerudian and turning back to his adult magazine. I glared at him and punched the button to give me hot chocolate.

I'd like to get some satisfaction out of saying Ganon is a loser working at a Denny's on a Friday night too, but I know he goes home to Nabooru, his smoking hot girlfriend, and that kind of cancels out the fact that he's here right now. She comes in to see him at work sometimes, and gods she has to be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. If she wasn't taken, I would woo her with my charms, ask politely, then jump her bones.

Grabbing my hot chocolate, I adorned it with copious amounts of whipped cream and plenty of sprinkles before heading back to table three.

Taking a deep sip of the rich warm chocolate, I felt slightly better. Yeah, some people have friends, but I have hot chocolate, so who's the real winner here? Grinning to myself, I licked the whipped cream off my upper lip and set down the mug.

I bet that Harkinian party isn't all that great anyway. They probably don't have hot chocolate.

The clock read 12:09. Still five hours and fifty-one minutes to go.

Time passes slowly in the diner. The next forty-five minutes were spent doing a variety of activities.

I built a large, three-dimensional pyramid out of coffee creamers. I consumed no less than six packs of sugar. I mastered that trick of hanging a spoon off your nose. And, after I made sure Ganon had fallen asleep, I sang pretty much every song from the musical Skyward Sword.

At 12:44, I was completely out of things to do. I mean, I had calculus homework, but I didn't want to do that.

I began the riveting game of seeing how tall of a tower you can build out of stacked coffee creamers. The diner record was set last year by this little freckled kid named Mido, who somehow managed to get a tower twenty-one creamers high. Even though I watched him do it, I still think he cheated somehow.

Eleven minutes later, I had a tower of twenty. Tension was high as I carefully began to place the twenty-first.

"You're this close to making history, c'mon Link you got this…" I muttered to myself, gritting my teeth in concentration.

That's when the front doors slammed open, causing me to jump and my record-bound tower to collapse. I would have mourned the death of a great achievement, but I was distracted by the newcomer.

It was a crying girl, hair falling out of a fancy bun and mascara streaked down her cheeks. She stumbled into a booth, tottering on black stilettos that matched her short, tight black dress.

Once she was situated in the booth, she put her head down on the table and simply sat there and cried.

For a minute, all I could do was stare at her as sobs racked her petite frame. Three thoughts crossed my mind, in this order:

1. Gods dammit she ruined my cream tower, gods dammit gods dammit-

2. Oh crap, it's a crazy one.

3. Maybe I should try to console her?

I'm usually pretty good at counseling customers. Most of them are very receptive to a listening ear, and the things I say seem to help them feel better. However, this girl intimidated me. She looked like she wouldn't hesitate to stand up and drive one of those stilettos straight through my heart.

Sliding out from table three, I approached her cautiously. Cautiously, because one time a crying female threw her positive pregnancy test at me when I attempted to talk to her.

She didn't look up as I neared. Shifting awkwardly, I stood beside the table for a moment, trying to think of something comforting to say.

"Welcome to Denny's. What do you want?"

Not quite what I was going for.

She looked up, her blue eyes red and rimmed with smudged makeup. "To be honest, I want to strangle someone," she choked out, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her makeup smeared even more.

I blinked. "Oh. Well, I can't help you with that, but our special today is pecan pancakes. How does that sound?" I offered, still feeling uncomfortable.

Apparently, she wasn't feeling like pecan pancakes, because her eyes welled up again and she began to sob once more. "He bought me pecan pancakes on our first date!" she wailed, putting her head back down.

Ah. Breakup.

I stood there for another moment, searching for words while she cried. "Um, are you okay-"

"No." She cut me off sharply, looking up with a glare on her face. "I'm at a godsdamn Denny's at 1 AM, do you think I'm okay?"

"Was that a rhetorical question, or-"

"Just leave me alone!" she screamed, looking up at me with wild eyes.

"Oooo-kay." I retreated back towards the kitchen, feeling safer by the stoves and the angry sleeping Gerudo.

Taking a deep breath, I peeked back out at her. She was still huddled at that booth, crying. I could hear her loud sobs from here.

What do I do? Is it acceptable to just hide in the kitchen and hope that she leaves? Maybe I should go back out and offer her something other than pecan pancakes?

I've learned through my experience of living with a single mother and a younger sister that females are the most terrifying creatures on earth and should be approached with respect and trepidation. A girl can rip your self-esteem to shreds in as few as five words and can render you sterile with a single, well-aimed kick to the crotch.

They scare me to death.

That's why whenever I encounter a female late at night at Denny's, especially a crying female, I'm always a little hesitant to interact with them too much. I could end up bleeding and curled up on the floor.

After warring with myself for a minute or two, I decided to attempt contact again.

"Hello, me again, um-"

"Didn't I tell you to get the hell away from me?" the girl demanded, training her bloodshot eyes on me. The teary redness of her eyes made her blue irises pop. It was pretty, in some sort of melancholy way.

"Um, well, yeah I guess you did, but-"

"Then why are you back? Just leave me here to wallow in a pool of my own misery," she muttered, picking at her black nail polish.

"Misery loves company," I offered.

"Yes, but I hate company. So please, do me a favor and leave," she snapped.

I stood there for a moment, trying to think of anything to say. She continued to peel off the nail polish, ignoring me.

A couple minutes passed, and she finally looked back up at me. "What the hell's your problem? Why are you still here-"

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" I blurted out.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Hot chocolate," I repeated, casting my eyes to the ground as I realized how childish my suggestion sounded. "I, um, well it usually makes me feel better when I'm upset, so I don't know, I guess I thought maybe it would help you too-"

"That sounds great." Her tone had softened considerably. I looked up to see her wiping away tears with the back of her hand, streaking makeup along with it.

"Oh, well, um, great. Do you want whipped cream and sprinkles? I always like whipped cream and sprinkles because I think it makes it taste better, but maybe that's just me-"

"You sure talk a lot," she said, cutting me off. She was laughing, though. "Whipped cream and sprinkles sounds wonderful, thank you."

"Awesome! I'll be right back with that, and you can clean up in the bathroom if you want, or you don't have to because you're in a Denny's and no one cares- okay yeah I'll go get your hot chocolate," I finished quickly as I noticed her giggling at my rambling.

Getting back to the kitchen as fast as I could without running, I considered drowning myself in the dish sink. I don't think I've ever embarrassed myself as much as I just did then.

Well, there was that one time in fifth grade when this kid Groose challenged me to a competition to see who could hang from the monkey bars longer, and when I won, he pulled my pants down in front of the whole playground-

I shook my head, grabbing a mug and filling it with hot chocolate. Fifth grade was a dark time.

When I walked back out, I saw her exiting the bathroom. The mascara streaks were gone, and she was carrying the stilettos in her hand. I sat the mug down on the table just as she slid into the booth.

"Alright, one hot chocolate," I announced, flashing her what I hope was an upbeat, reassuring grin.

Turning to leave, I was stopped as her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

"Sit down with me?" she asked, her blue eyes pleading.

"Um, yeah, sure," I said.

She let go of my hand and let me sit down in the seat across from her.

"What's your name?" she asked, smiling.

I pointed at my little plastic name tag. "Link."

She rolled her eyes. "No way. What's your full name?"

I reddened slightly. "Oh, um, Link Larson."

"Nice to meet you, Link Larson! Do you go to the U?"

"Yeah! I'm a sophomore there," I told her, attempting to sound less awkward than I usually do. Socializing is not one of my many strengths.

"Really? Me too!" she informed me, smiling. "I'm Zelda, by the way. Zelda Harkinian."

My eyebrows shot up. "The Zelda Harkinian? Don't you have a party to be at?" I asked.

Her expression soured. "Yeah," she sighed, twirling a loose strand of her brown hair.

"So... why aren't you at your own party? Even I would be at your party if I wasn't a complete friendless loser working at a Denny's from 9-6 on a Friday night," I rambled.

That made her smile a bit. I decided I liked it when she smiled.

"I don't want to talk about that stupid party," Zelda said firmly.

"Oh. Okay. Well, then, what do you want to talk about?"

"Hm," she said, drumming her fingers on the mug and looking out the window at the poorly illuminated parking lot. "Something deep. I don't like small talk."

Deep? I'm about as deep as a kiddie pool. The 'deepest' conversation I've ever had was questioning whether or not someone could survive if they lived in a Jabu Jabu whale.

I argued yes, and my mom told me to shut up and go away.

"Do you think someone could live inside a whale?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Her expression turned pensive. "That's a tough one. I think one could survive being swallowed by a whale, but I don't think you could live in one, you know?"

"Well why not? If you brought a fridge and a really comfortable bed in with you, I'm pretty sure you could live in a whale if you wanted," I countered.

"Where would you plug in the fridge?"

Dammit.

"I guess I never thought of that when I was eight," I admitted.

"Getting swallowed by whales is a deep topic, especially for an eight year old!" she laughed, wiping at her red eyes.

At this point I found myself watching her nose scrunch up as she laughed, and I decided that I found Zelda Harkinian very, very attractive. But so did pretty much every straight individual at Hyrule University. Even my gay roommate says he'd go for Zelda "if he had to pick a girl."

"Okay, my turn for a question," she announced. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done for money?"

"Oh, geez," I sighed, racking my brain. "I've done some dumb shit for money... Let's see... Oh! In kindergarten, we took a field trip to the zoo, and some kid told me he'd pay me five Rupees to jump down into the outdoor gorilla cage. So I did, and I made the mistake of looking it in the eye and the thing started charging at me and throwing this play boomerang at me."

She was laughing hard now, one of those laughs that kind of sounds like a donkey but is so endearing that you can't help but to laugh along.

"Oh my gods! Did you get the money?" she asked.

"No! I didn't even get the stupid five Rupees, and I got banned from the zoo for a year. It was an overall bad field trip."

"It wasn't all for naught, at least it makes a good story," Zelda told him. "My story isn't nearly that good."

I shrugged. "Like I said, I've done some dumb shit."

"Everyone has. For example, I climbed halfway up the Hyrule water tower, got scared, and had to be rescued by the fire department. And I actually did get the 50 Rupees I was promised, but I had to use it to pay a fine for trespassing."

"You managed to get halfway up a water tower?! Holy Hylia. I've decided you're insane," I informed her.

"Eh, maybe. But I didn't jump into a gorilla cage," she pointed out. "Your turn to ask."

"Oh geez. Whales are pretty much as deep as I go," I said, laughing a bit.

"Really? I bet you could think of something. Like how about this: are you a virgin?"

I blinked. Is this a standard question to ask strangers? Ten minutes ago she was screaming at me, and she was only placated with hot chocolate. Now she wants to know if I've done the do. Isn't this how most pornos start?

"Stay in your lane," was all I could manage.

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Please tell me you're not one of those people who's uncomfortable with the virginity question."

"I'm not uncomfortable! We've just met, and you were crying and yelling, and I don't know it's just not something I typically ask people I run into at a Denny's at 1:30 in the morning-"

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I don't usually ask these kind of things, but you just seem like one of those open people you can talk about anything with, you know?"

"...Did you... want to talk about virginity?" I asked awkwardly.

She laughed again. "Not necessarily. I figure it's just one of those standard 'truth or dare' kind of questions."

"Yeah, I guess so. And to answer the question, no I'm not a virgin," I mumbled, playing with a sugar packet I'd picked up from the end of the table.

"Why do you look so ashamed? Congrats, dude. I'm a virgin in a technical sense, I guess, but I've given and received enough oral sex to last me at least three lifetimes," she said with a smile.

The smile quickly faded and turned into a sigh. "Were you dating the person?"

"Dating what person?"

"The person you copulated with!"

I couldn't help but to laugh. Gods, I haven't heard the word 'copulated' used in a sentence since 7th grade religion class. We were being taught by this eighty year old woman who refused to use the word 'sex' so instead used many different synonyms. Copulation, fornication, carnal activities. I learned a lot of fun words in that class, but not very much about the goddesses and worship.

"Yeah, my first time was with my girlfriend during my sophomore year of high school, Ilia. We had dated for a year before participating in, ah, carnal activities, but then broke up because she moved to Kakariko. Why?" I asked.

Zelda sighed. "Maybe it's because I wouldn't have sex with him?" she muttered to herself, glancing out the window again.

"Sex with who?" I prompted, though I already had a feeling this was about the breakup that sent her in here crying in the first place.

"My boyfriend," she said glumly. "Well, ex-boyfriend."

"Well, um, I'm sorry. About that. That sucks," I stuttered lamely.

"I just don't understand why, you know? Why did he cheat?" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes again.

All I could do was stare in a (hopefully) sympathetic manner from across the table. I realized that the "deep" questions were more just for her deciding if it was okay to vent and cry in front of me.

"I mean, it was going great! People used to tell me we were the ideal couple, like stuff out of fairytales. And then..." she trailed off. "Am I not pretty enough? Not funny enough, does he hate my parents, does he hate my friends? Maybe my boobs are too small-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down there, no need to bring boobs into this. Your boobs look fine to me, I'm sure your friends are super fun and your parents are really nice, you've maintained some humor even at 2 AM in a diner, and you're quite pretty if I do say so myself. Stop tearing yourself to shreds," I said, trying to be gentle.

I am a sick man, subtly attempting to flirt in my own bizarre way by calling her pretty. She just broke up with her boyfriend. What do I think I'm doing?

"Yeah, but I'm not-"

"Not what? I hate how I'm socially incompetent. I hate how I'm so pale that I kind of glow in the sunlight. I hate how my sneeze sounds like a kitten, which conflicts with the manly image I work so hard to keep up. You just need people who can look past the things you're insecure about, and if they can't, well then, um, pardon the language, fuck them."

She smiled a bit, wiping away her tears.

"I know, I know," Zelda sighed. "I just- I'm pissed. I'm really, really pissed."

"I would be too. Cheating is a low blow," I agreed.

"I didn't even tell you the best part. So I'm at my party right? And he says he's going to the bathroom. Fine. He's not back a half hour later, so I went to look for him, and guess who I found him with?"

"Um, another girl?" I guessed timidly.

"No! Not even close!" she yelled. "I found him making out with my brother!"

I cringed. "Damn that probably stung. A lot."

Zelda laughed bitterly. "Tell me about it. Everyone knows Sheik is gay, but did you know Dark was bisexual? I sure as hell didn't. And you think my own brother would know to, I don't know, not help my boyfriend cheat on me?!"

"Kill them both," I suggested.

She glared at me and rolled her eyes. "Gods, do I want to. I want to so bad. But yeah, they saw me watching, I freaked out, I ended up at Denny's. Neither of them have even bothered to call me."

"Definitely kill them."

She smiled weakly, then sighed once more. "Sorry for making you listen to my pathetic pity-fest. You seem really nice."

"Number one: No problem. And trust me, I've seen worse come through. Way worse. Number two: I am really nice. I'm the really nicest person you'll meet," I joked.

Zelda laughed again, and I laughed too. She grabbed my hand from across the table and squeezed it.

"So," she said with a grin, "Pancakes or waffles?"

[5:44 AM]

"You didn't!" I shouted, full of shock and disbelief.

"I did!" Zelda proclaimed. "I drank the whole thing! It was so worth it. I mean, I lost that bra and I had one hell of a hangover the next morning, but it was still so worth it."

"I can barely keep down coffee, let alone alcohol. Mark me down as impressed."

"You don't like coffee?" she asked, looking almost offended.

"I don't really find the concept of drinking warm bean water to be appealing," I told her.

"Well when you put it like that, it sounds disgusting. You just gotta get it with a crap-ton of whipped cream and chocolate syrup in it, and then it's more like a milkshake," she told me.

"Milkshakes I find to be very appealing. In fact, if I could drink one thing for the rest of my life, it would be the chocolate peanut butter shakes from Maple's Diner. Have you ever tried one of those? Because they taste like liquid sex-"

"Want to go sometime?" she cut in.

My heart dropped a little.

"What?"

"Want to get sugary coffee sometime? Or milkshakes? Maybe both?" she asked, a flirtatious smile on her face.

Holy crap. Did I just get asked to do something? By a very attractive female? Did I, Link Larson, King of the Losers, just acquire plans?!

"Um, yeah, if you'd like, and if I'm not too busy y'know, with activities and such. That's a joke, by the way, if you didn't figure it out in that four hour conversation, I'm a total-"

"Give me your phone," she instructed, sliding hers across the table to me. "I want to get your number, Mr. Loser."

"Great. Yeah, no problem."

I punched in my number, feeling exhilarated as I did so. Was this even happening? I looked up at Zelda, admiring the way the orange morning sun caught the golden highlights in her hair and cast patches of light across her face.

"Here," she announced, handing me back my phone. "Please make it a priority to contact me at the nearest availability."

"I'm always available," I assured her, hoping that didn't sound creepy or too eager.

"Well, I should probably get home," she said with a sigh, standing up and grabbing her heels. "Thank you so much, Link Larson. It was wonderful to meet you."

"Yeah, I really enjoyed taking to you-!"

I was cut off as she threw her arms around me. Gingerly, I wrapped my arms around her as well, sure my face was some ungodly shade of red.

"Please, text me. Call me. Get in touch. I really, really enjoyed talking with you," she whispered in my ear.

"L-likewise," I stammered.

With that, she pulled away, gave me a last wink, and strutted out. I felt like she was swinging her hips a little more dramatically than one usually does while walking, but maybe that was my imagination.

She passed an incoming Aryll as she left, pausing to smile before disappearing out into the parking lot.

I stared into the empty space, not even bothering to greet my sister.

Did any of that really just happen?

Looking down at my phone, I saw her name and number in my contacts staring back at me. This was real life.

"Who was that?" Aryll asked, eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.

"A hardcore drug friend," I told her as my phone vibrated.

My face turned red and Aryll snatched the phone to read before I could stop her.

Zelda: btw you have a cute butt.

Aryll's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and I hid my face in my hands.

"Damn," she said, giving me a playful slug on the arm. "I want to know everything."