Penelope woke to the light on her face. At first she thought she overslept—the sunrise was getting later as winter approached—and she was worried that she had missed the registration window for the end of the semester. Luckily, because of remote learning, the deadline had been extended.

Today was the day she was going to re-enroll in design school, which already made it hard to sleep, but combined with the embarrassment over last night’s events, she’d barely slept at all. Was she really ready to dive back into school? She hadn’t been away that long, but she worried she had already lost everything she learned.

Only one way to find out, Penelope thought, as she rolled over to check the time on her phone. Six a.m.?? Well, that’s why her phone alarm hadn’t gone off yet. And then Penelope realized: the light wasn’t coming from the window. It was from under her door. Ugh, Nolan, Penelope thought, sighing to herself with exhaustion. Could she really keep this up for another two months?

She buried her face under her pillow, not ready to answer the question, and determined to get another hour of sleep.

***

An hour and a half later, Penelope stirred again as the phone alarm played a John Mayer song. She’d never tell Nolan, but she did like the sound of a guitar—in the right hands.

Penelope threw off the covers and opened her bedroom door, ready to get this day started with some breakfast, but a stream of bright light blasted her eyes. Every light in the apartment was on.

Penelope looked to the couch to scold Nolan, but he was already up and, from the sounds of it, he’d beat her to the kitchen. She smelled coffee, and her nose led her to the kitchen.

Nolan was there, with one of her blueberry muffins in his mouth, as he measured coffee into the coffee maker. He was only wearing sweatpants, humming a tune she didn’t recognize, and doing a little dance step. My enemy might look cute in the morning, but he’s still my enemy.

“You know you’re paying the electric bill this month, right?” said Penelope, flipping off the main room light as she approached the kitchen.

Nolan, surprised by Penelope’s voice, dropped the muffin from his mouth on the floor. “Oh man,” he lamented, looking at it. Then, “Five second rule.” He picked it up and popped it back in his mouth.

“Gross,” Penelope said, grimacing. “I was going to make some eggs—and I know you love protein. Want some? It’ll be better than that dirt muffin.”

Nolan sized her up. “Yeah, sure. We’re still on a truce, right?”

“Oh definitely,” Penelope said, flashing her sweetest smile.

“In that case, you want some coffee when it’s done?” Nolan asked, smiling back.

“Why not,” Penelope said.

They both went to work, preparing their handiwork for the other.

***

Twenty minutes later, they sat at the small kitchen table. Nolan poured Penelope her coffee, and she scooped eggs from a pan onto a plate for him.

They both sat and waited for the other to start enjoying their breakfast.

“Go ahead,” said Nolan. “I know you love your coffee.”

“No, you first, I insist,” said Penelope.

They stared at each other. And then, a knock at the door.

“What now?” sighed Nolan, rising to open it again.

Flo stood on the stoop, seemingly in a much better mood than the previous evening.

“Good morning,” she chirped, wearing a pair of patched overalls. “Nolan, I—young man, do you ever put on a shirt?”

Penelope mouthed, “Thank you!” In silent agreement.

“Honestly, not really,” said Nolan, running a hand through his hair. “I’m most creative in my natural state. It works even better when I’m na—.”

“I see,” said Flo, holding up a hand to stop him. She sniffed the air and looked around. “Something smells good in here. I guess the truce is holding up?”

“Oh yes,” said Penelope enthusiastically, rising to join Nolan at the door. “In fact, we made breakfast together.”

“Wonderful,” Flo said. Raising a small parcel in front of her, she continued. “Well, I came to drop off this package for you, Nolan. it came to my door instead of yours. Sorry, I opened it up before I saw your name on it.”

Nolan cocked his head at her, wondering if Flo was maybe a bit nosier than she let on.

Flo continued, “And now that I’m here, maybe I’ll join you. Those muffins were so tasty, I can’t wait to see what else you’ve whipped up!” Flo slipped under Nolan’s arm in the doorframe and headed towards the kitchen.

Both Nolan and Penelope froze. They looked at each and immediately understood from the panic in each other’s eyes—the truce had been broken.

“Um, you know Flo, I really only made enough eggs for Nolan…” Penelope started to say.

“The coffee is already out!” Nolan exclaimed, right next to her.

“I won’t take much,” Flo said, hungrily eyeing the eggs and coffee on the table. “Just a bite.”

As she set down Nolan’s package and reached for a fork, Penelope swatted the plate from under her onto the floor. Nolan and Flo looked at her in shock.

“Bug,” Penelope said. “I saw a…bug.”

“Odd,” Flo said. “The exterminator was just here. Well, I’ll just have a sip of coffee then.”

Flo reached for the mug Nolan had filled to the brim, but before she could put her hand on it, Nolan grabbed it—and chugged the contents. He grimaced as he finished.

“I really needed that energy,” he said, looking like he was nauseous.

“Flo, we’d love to host you for breakfast on a day that we’re not so…distracted,” Penelope said, trying to smooth things over.

“Hm,” Flo said, walking to the door. Spying the container of muffins on the counter, she grabbed it. “Maybe I’ll take these after all, while you sort out your truce. Have a good day.”

As Flo closed the door, Nolan ran to the sink and stuck his mouth under the faucet.

“I guess the truce is off?” Penelope asked, as he lapped up water and spit out whatever remnants of the coffee cup were in his mouth.