“Thanks for that, by the way. Megan seems nice enough, but Jesus Christ today is not a people day.” I sighed, passing a very happy Marley the sort of pathetic looking mini-cupcake they’d given me with my slightly less pathetic looking fruit bowl. It wasn’t much at all but Marley and I would definitely be getting pizza later and I didn’t feel like paying any more than necessary for school food.

“No problem. Did you see the look?” She grinned, dimpled and smug, as she removed the bottom half of the sad cupcake and stuck it back onto the top.

“There is no look, Mar.” I rolled my eyes and timed a well-placed flick to her wrist, making her smudge some cupcake on her cheek.

“That was uncalled for, assbutt, and you’re lucky I didn’t make my face today or Ana would have to find a new pillow,” she paused, and her face pinched up distastefully, “or take up necrophilia, but could you really picture Ana—“

“If I give you a grape, will you please, for the love of God, stop being so weird this early?”

“No, but sure.” I didn’t even bother trying to shoo her from plucking all three grapes out of the fruit cup. Which, whatever, I don’t like red grapes anyway. “Why do you think Ana’s being weird about them?” When I blinked confusedly she snorted and added, “really? Grace, you are so out of it sometimes, I swear. She’s never mentioned them before, and she doesn’t seem to like Hazel, like at all. Can you think of anyone else Ana wouldn’t immediately tell you to shoot your shot with? I mean, seriously, someone could run her over and her ghost would probably get mad about anyone filing charges because ‘they were probably having a bad day!’”

“Again, you’re an idiot, but yeah, fine, you do have a point.”

“I’m literally always right. So?”

“I have no idea, I kind of figured maybe she was too caught up with homework or whatever during her night school classes to make friends, but I don’t have a clue about Hazel.” Marley snorted again. “What?”

“When has Ana ever been too busy to make friends? I guess it could maybe be a confidentiality thing or maybe she’s worried about us getting jealous, but I think she’s up to something.” She had that smile back on that reminded me of the Cheshire Cat.

“Do I want to know your theory?”

“Okay, evidence; so she’s acting weird and won’t tell us why. Can you think of any other time she was acting weird and wouldn’t tell certain people why?”

“No?”

“Of course you wouldn’t have noticed. You were just as bad. Gracie, think! When have you seen Ana awkward? Ever?!” She put her hands out exasperatedly, frowning at me like she’d explained the answer to me in perfect detail.

“I mean,” I shifted through as many memories I could of Ana being even close to bashful or evasive about anything, but it was really Marley’s expression that gave it away; wide-eyed and staring at me like it was the single most obvious thing to think of, even if the hint of desperation told me she didn’t want to spell it out. Honestly, it felt like she’d stuck a hand in my chest and just cranked my entire body’s thermostat as high as it dared go. “Mar, no—“

“Uh, Mar, yes. She totally had a thing with Hazel!” She steepled her hands and frowned peevedly at my hanging jaw. “Alright, more evidence then! Aside from she never mentioned either of them to us, —which, honestly, I’m not completely ruling out having a thing with both of them but I think she likes attention too much to pull that off— she got uncomfortable about the idea of you going after her, and she said she doesn’t know what she’s like, even though Megan said she’s known her for a while, which makes me think there was some kind of bad ending to whatever went down; and she did the nervous hand thing when I pointed them out and when she was talking about her in the hall; Hazel didn’t pay any attention to her, so I think they already know each other fine; and she pretty much implied Hazel wasn’t not into girls, like that wasn’t a thing she said to stop you from going after her. Coincidence? I think not.” She nodded resolutely, lacing her fingers together and laying them in front of her like she was actually trying to make a case for her theory.

“Wait, oh my god, you’re actually serious. Jesus, Mar, you’re really,” I groaned and rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes until I saw some stars. The girl was beaming when I dropped them back down, and I nearly sputtered to come up with any half believable point against hers. Really, even if it was just because I was shocked, I couldn’t think of anything. “Okay, pretend she did have a thing, why don’t you just ask her?”

“Do you just ask the government about Area 51? No; that’s poor sportsmanship, and it’s not like their word is proof anyway, it just makes them more suspicious. Silly sheep.” Shaking her head like a disappointed mother, she sighed. “Finish your scrambled plant eggs, we gotta go put on the shirts before the stupid orientation’s orientation.

“And unless you can provide me with any reasonable evidence for a counter-argument, you better be helping me find proof of the Anazel—“ her serious facade cracked with a snort of laughter, “okay, not that. I meant you better be helping me find proof of the —Haziana? Hatiana? Oh— the Hana Theory. Fucking Anazel, Jesus H. Christ,” she chuckled again under her breath, “I mean, the name alone but implying Ana tops anyone, even someone who’s clearly a bottom? Come on, Gracie, it’s funny.”

“Whatever, I’m done with my breakfast and we should probably head over to the auditorium bathroom before the other guides start hiding in them.”

“What I just said, but sure, top-notch idea, Gracie.”

The auditorium bathrooms, or at least the women’s bathroom, were large enough to double as locker rooms for the various performing arts kids that would use it to change before, during, and after their shows. It didn’t have showers like the gym locker rooms, but it was divided up into distinct little locker-framed blocks that gave people some semblance of privacy. There were only four toilets, significantly fewer than any of the other bathrooms, but there was a huge panel mirror complete with three stools for performers to use for their hair and makeup.

All in all, Marley and I were lucky to share the room with the company of only three other girls, all chatting indistinctly with each other while touching up their appearances in front of the long mirror-wall. I thought passively that it was a little odd to have the room so quiet, but because of its proximity to the cafeteria, I figured that people were probably just preoccupied with getting breakfast or seeing friends.

“Chill, I thought it would be packed already,” Marley said, flinging her bag onto a bench and stripping off her shirt nearly the second the bathroom door swung shut behind her.

“You have literally no chill; put your shirt on.” The other brunette just grinned, shrugged her shoulders noncommittally, and went rummaging through her backpack for her new school shirt.

“Strip for me, Gracie!” She snickered as I started to remove my shirt too, “oh, cute bra, I didn’t know single as fuck was back in style.”

“You’re an ass.” I couldn’t help a chuckle, right on that line between embarrassed and amused. “I can wear whatever I damn well please.”

“Single little sheepy.” She laughed when I flipped her off. “It’s cute that they’re trying to be fashionable.” Slipping her new shirt on over her body, she posed and threw a look over her shoulder at the mirror as she untucked her hair from her collar.

I rolled my eyes and was halfway through threading my arms into my new shirt when I heard the three other girls leave, and felt a chill jolt up and down my spine.

“Ah, fuck,” I growled to myself quietly.

“‘Sup?” Marley started as I peeled my shirt the rest of the way down, consciously messing with my hair and bra straps to avoid looking up at the dark-haired figure that was now looming like a storm by the locker room door. Despite my best efforts, I found my eyes on her before she’d even opened her mouth to speak.

“Let me make myself very clear,” her voice was chillingly smooth as she crossed her arms boredly over her chest and leaned against the door, assuring she wouldn’t be interrupted. While she spoke in an almost lazy drawl, her words were sharp; each syllable measured and steely. “For whatever reason, my sister has a vested interest in befriending you. I do not. I do not care for Tatiana, and I certainly do not care for pretending to like either of you.” Her jaw muscles tightened for just a brief moment when Marley scoffed.

“You seriously think you have to tell us we’re not bestie material?” I couldn’t see Marley’s expression, but I could see Hazel’s fingers tighten and curl around her forearms. Her face, however, remained slightly disdainful, but otherwise impassive. When she remained silent, I could almost feel Marley rolling her eyes. “Look, lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but you really don’t strike me as the type people flock to make friends with.“

Hazel’s eyes narrowed; her words spoken with the cold, hard edge of a blade, and her posture a little more severe.

“I’m not here to be your enemy,” I hadn’t really realized she’d been staring at Marley until her gaze turned to me. It was absolutely freezing. I could hardly make myself breathe as her eyes bore unrelentingly into mine. “I only want it made certain that it is Megan, not me, who is going to try and make friends. I do not want you to misinterpret this and think I have any interest in you.” She looked like she had more to say, but stopped when someone knocked on the door. Opening it, she stepped aside and an unhappy-looking girl walked through, Hazel pointedly ignoring the dirty look thrown at her. “I’m sure Megan and I will see you both later.” She stated curtly before walking off without another word.