Randomness between my oc/characters

Let me help

She was always smiling. Always helping anyone in need. Even on her happiest days I can tell that she's depressed. She helps everyone so it's time someone helped her; and that someone is going to be me.
Eventhough I faded into the background a lot, I know I'm still her best friend. Like usual, every Wednesday I stay at her place for the night (because that's when my parents go drinking and just don't care about anything but themselves), but this night I planned on saying something. Her parents didn't mind, they know about me but I promised not to hurt or use her in any way, I'm hoping what I'm planning isn't stepping over the boundaries. She was at cheerleading practice until about six now-a-days so she wasn't there when I was. My stuff gets tossed onto her pink (ew) bed and I sit at the makeup desk she has. The chair was a black office one with wheels; it was the only black colored thing in her room that wasn't mascara or eye liner. I don't get the point of makeup, most girls are beautiful without it, but they think they have to wear it because of the standards set by the media (aka, idiots who think beauty is the only thing that matters).
I sigh, well more groan, in complete boredom. I start spinning in the office chair while watching YouTube on my phone. I have about twenty minutes to kill until she gets here.
Ten minutes later I was playing I'm Not a Vampire by Falling in Reverse while trying to see how many ponytails I can put my short hair into. This would ruin everything if she saw me right now... she wouldn't take me seriously if I decided to talk to her while looking like this. Again, I sigh. My raven hair was now in twenty-four tiny ponytails.
I take out the ponytails and start to tap my fingers on the makeup desk. How should I start talking to her? Should I be straight to the point or go slow with the topic? Will she hate me if I was wrong about it? I think I'm going insane with all these questions floating around my head.
The bedroom door creaks a little and I glance over. "Deli?"
She is now home and I still don't know how to ask her. Deli is my nickname, I started working at the deli shop about three years ago just for her and also to live up to it. She's been calling me Deli since third grade when all I ate was food from the deli shop for about half the school year.
I spin the chair to look at her. Her light brunette hair was up in a tight, painful looking ponytail, and she still had her uniform on. So much skin was showing that I started to blush. I think I should start a petition that makes cheerleading uniforms less showy... wow.
"Hey Emily." I say, getting up from the chair so she could sit in it. "How was practice?"
"Good, good." She sits in the chair and pulls it close to the desk. She starts to do her girly thing and starts to take off the makeup.
After about ten minutes of silence I start to become fidgety, moving from the bed to the wall to standing behind her and braiding her hair.
"Is something bothering you?" She finally asks after five minutes of me moving around.
"No. Nothing's bothering me." I respond in a passive tone.
"You're moving around an awful lot."
"So?"
"Whenever you're anxious about something or something's bothering you, you tend to fidget a lot."
Dammit. I let her hair fall to her shoulders, letting it unbraid itself.
"...something is bothering me." I say in a sort of 'feel sorry for me' voice.
"What is it?" She asks kindly. I can see her looking at me through the mirror.
I sigh and put my hands behind my neck, starting to pace behind her.
She gets out of her chair and grabd my arm to stop me from pacing. "Hey, what's wrong?" God how her brown eyes shine in the bright light; they look like caramel... I love caramel...
I take a deep breath to calm myself before saying. "I'm here for you... no matter what. If you have a problem, please tell me, I don't want you to keep your true emotions inside."
I could see her eyes widen in confusion and concern. That's when I knew it was over... this seven year friendship ends because I don't know how to read emotions correctly.
I feel her grip on my jacket loosen up and I knew that was the cue to just leave her life. I start to trudge away from her to the door when she... holds my hand and doesn't let me leave. I look back at her and she was staring at me, her lips quivering in an attempt not to make a noise other than. "Thank you..." She starts to break down crying.
I quickly get into protection mode from the times my little brother has cried and hug her tight. I stroke her hair, I tell her that everything is alright and that nothing and nobody is going to hurt her, trying to calm her down.
It took about half an hour before she stopped sobbing and I could start to hear her talk.
She had broken up with her abusive boyfriend finally, but she still held onto the little bit of happiness that he had given her and wanted him back. She had failed two tests and her parents didn't let her eat dinner or lunch for a week. Her online friend Amanda Jay, someone who I have never heard of before, had killed herself apparently and the video was on YouTube (according to her, many people said it was selfish but she deserved to be dead). It sounded to me like her life was a mess and I had ignored so much of it...
"And worst of all..." she says before blowing her nose into a tissue. "I want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't even love me..."
Although to me it sounded unrelated to our conversation, I went with it. "Who is he? I can talk to him for you if you need, I know every guy in school-"
"It's not a he... it's a she... but she doesn't acknowledge me most of the time."
She? SHE? After seven years of being her best friend and not verbally talking for two weeks, I now find out that she's actually gay? Or bi? Or pan?
"Who is she then? I can talk to her for you."
She points over to her makeup mirror. "She's on the mirror... I think you know her."
Dear God don't tell me it's Hannah. Emily, you can do better than Hannah.
I get off the bed and walk over to the mirror. There are no pictures. Just my image in the mirror. ...me?
"Me?" I look back at her, confused.
She nods sightly.
"Emily, I do love you..." I go back over to her.
She doesn't answer me, but she does dramatically throw her body onto her bed so she was laying face first on it.
I smile.
I kneel down by where her head is. "Emily?"
"Yes?" She asks into the bed.
"I love you."
"I love you, too, Delilah..."