The temperature had dropped drastically, and the autumn winds were sweeping Oslo ripping the last orange leaves from the trees that stood alongside the avenue. It would soon be winter. I was standing outside our building, shivering to the point where it looked as if I were having a seizure. I'd forgotten my keys. Again. For the tenth time, I tried calling Eskild but, for the tenth time also, there was no reply. I was slowly accepting the fact that I was going to die of hypothermia out here on the streets. No problem, I'd had a great life.

"Isak!"

I turned to see who was calling. "Oh. Hey Even," I replied as he approached me. He was looking me up and down, and I realized what an odd sight I was standing there in the cold wearing only a T-shirt and jeans.

"You're crazy, you know?" Even was grinning, but simultaneously he shook of his jacket and handed it to me. I didn't take it. "Come on, you need it more than I do," he said and threw it over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes but put it on anyway. I knew better that to argue with Even. He started walking towards the coffee shop at the corner and I followed him.

We found a table and Even ordered two coffees. As soon as they arrived, I cupped my hand around the mug to absorb the heat. Even sends me a funny look. "So... I'm guessing keys?"

"Yeah," I just said. It's not that I didn't want to chat with him, but things had changed so much since he'd told me he was bipolar, and I wasn't sure how to act around him anymore. "So how's Sonja?" I just asked instead. He groaned, and I laughed. "So it's that bad, huh?" "Worse," he said, suddenly looking as if he hadn't slept for days. "It's just that she wants me to go to this therapist, and I hate telling her how much I hate the idea."

"Why?" I don't know why I had asked him about Sonja. I didn't actually want to hear about their relationship.

"Because... she's been nicer since I told people about my bipolarity. Less controlling even." He was looking at his hands while talking. I didn't know how to respond. He sighed. "I just don't want to fuck it up again."

Again. They'd had problems – he and Sonja – last spring, before I'd known about Even being bipolar. I think it was my fault. Actually, it probably was, since I'd had a crush on Even, and – at the time – I'd tried hard to break them up. Nothing had happened; the worst thing we did was ditch Sonja and Emma, my ex, at a few parties, and I doubted he knew anything about how I'd felt.

"Well you're talkative today," Even interrupted my thought train, and I sent him a smile, rolling my eyes. "You wouldn't be keen on small talk if you'd just spent the afternoon trying to get pneumonia." He laughed, and I smiled as well. Even had the world's most contagious smile.

We finished our coffee and left. It was dark outside, and Eskild had sent a text telling me he was home. Even had pulled a cigarette from his pocket, which he lit and leaned against the wall. Then he offered it to me, but I shook my head. "No thanks," I said looking around. People seemed to be spending the evening at home that night. I only spotted a few people around. "I should head home," I said, "Eskild is ready to let me in." He lifted his eyebrows, a very Even-like gesture, and then shrugged. "Go, then," he smiled, and I smiled before I turned my back to him and left.