"Fair enough," Rosie says, stabbing a toothpick into another piece of cheese with a bit more vehemence than it maybe deserved. It hadn't done anything except be there on the platter at the wrong moment, after all. "I'd rather have someone be honest with me than not."

Perhaps now is the time to do what it sometimes feels as though Nova expects from her; to walk away without a backward glance and forget ever having met him, let alone stayed on his couch after one mad, absurd night. It would be easier and far less infuriating than trying to force a connection that it seemed only one of them wanted--and Rosie wasn't even sure why she wanted it half the time. Perhaps because she'd had so few friends before Darrow, or because Nova was different in a way that seemed wholly his own and made her curious to know more about him. And yes, perhaps just a little because he was handsome.

Whether it's out of interest, or stubbornness, or something else entirely, she doesn't turn and leave, just allows it to drive what she says next. "Is it so bad to hope that who you are might include being my friend? At some point, if not now."