15.

DALIA'S POV

"So how're we doing this, call, email?" Emily said, as she walked through my front door which I held open for her. I followed her in and closed the door behind me, dropping my keys on the tall, wooden stool by the door.

"I'm not entirely sure myself." I prop my hand in my food bag, and bring out the flyer Dr. Amber had given me. "On here they have a telephone number, an email address, and even a F******k account." I stated.

Emily turned around, walking backwards to the living room. "F******k?" She cackled. "What, are we in like, twenty-twelve?" She turned back around, and flopped into the long armed chair facing the T.V.

I let out a low chuckle, as I walked over to the kitchen island, and set my things on there, before turning behind to the sink to wash my hands. "Well, I think I'm just going to call then." I said.

"Alright then, let's do this." Emily slapped the arm of the chair repeatedly, like she was gas up a bunch of uninterested teenagers, at a school pep rally. I tur