“It’s been three days.”

 Riley looked up from her grocery store sushi. Sammy gazed at her from across the secluded table in the corner of the school next to the cafeteria. The nearby class building provided a nice cover of shade.

 “I’m worried about them,” Sammy said, picking at her cracker-like school lunch pizza with pepperoni-flavored topping.

 “Lane will be fine. They just need some time.”

 “How are you so sure? They seemed pretty shaken.”

 “Just trust me.”

* * *

 Riley approached the door of the house with the strange machine on top, ringing the doorbell. A little robotic arm popped out of the hole near the doorbell, the camera on its end glanced at Riley, its aperture ring contracting as it focused on her. It retracted back and a young woman in a lab coat answered the door, she smiled sympathetically at the teenager.

 “Sorry, Riley, Lane still isn’t up to see anybody.”

 With a flick of Riley’s finger, the back of Susan’s coat flipped over atop her head, covering her face.

 “You dumb kid! What the hell do you think—”

 Riley was already at Lane’s door before Susan pulled the coat off of her face.

 “Lane, you’d better be dressed before I get in there.”

 “Riley? What—”

 Riley rattled the door handle, it didn’t budge. She sighed, reaching out with her mind to find the lock on the other side. Slowly it rotated until it clicked into place. Riley tried the handle again, and pushed the door open with a prolonged creak. 

 The room was dim, the only light leaking through was from the closed window and the monitor. Lane sat on their bed, surrounded by crumpled pajamas, their head inside a shirt they were only partially finished with putting on. Riley pulled down on it and Lane’s head popped through the collar. 

 “R-Riley…”

 She glared at them. Lane tried to say something.

 “Dr. Destroia, I’m stealing Lane for today!”

* * *

 Riley led Lane by the wrist through her home’s front door, passing the shiny modernist furnishings on the way to her room. Riley had decorated her room with meticulous color coordination; pink and silver accents highlighted cozy creams, string lights hung above her bed along with framed, autographed comic books and horror memorabilia. 

 “You can sit wherever.”

 Riley let go of them and walked through the door on the left side of the room. Confusedly, Lane sat on the bed. The sound of flowing water came from behind the door.

 “Do you prefer vanilla or lavender?”

 Lane laid in the bathtub, staring at the sparkling bubbles that piled high on the surface, the scent of warm vanilla settling around them. Shiny white tile almost blended in with the frothy head, making it seem to go on forever. They were too confused at their situation to think about the particular series of events that led to it.

 “How is it?” asked Riley from the other side of the door separating the sink and toilet from the bath area.

 “I-it’s nice, thanks, but…”

 “It’s because you smell.”

 Lane sunk a little lower in the bath.

 “You weren’t taking care of yourself… so I guess I wanted to take care of you. I’m sorry if this is weird, I didn’t really think it through all that much.”

 Lane was quiet for a moment.

 “It is kind of weird, but I don’t hate weird.”

 Water sloshed against the bathtub walls.

 “Why are you doing this for me?”

 Riley sighed.

 “It’s because we— I care about you, dumbass.”

 Riley paused, Lane looked at the door.

 “Listen… I’m sorry I pushed you into doing the speech. That was stupid of me.”

 Lane closed their eyes.

 “No, it wasn’t. All I had to do was talk about my friend, and I couldn’t even do that.”

 Riley groaned.

 “Idiot.”

 “I know…”

 “No, for different reasons! You were forced into doing something you clearly weren’t comfortable with, and when you got hurt, you aren’t even getting mad at yourself instead of the person who actually caused the problem!”

 “You didn’t force me!”

 “I might as well have!”

 It was quiet for another moment. 

 “And now, here I am forcing you again.”

 Riley sniffled.

 “I’m sorry, Lane.”

 Lane got up out of the bath, drying themself off and putting on the bathrobe that Riley had left for them. They opened the door, and Riley sat on the floor of the other side, hugging her knees. Not knowing quite what to do, Lane sat down next to her. The two leaned against each other.

 “I was supposed to be the one comforting you,” Riley said, laughing dryly. “I guess I’m bad at this.”

 “You’re not.”

Riley looked at Lane.

“I feel a little better, thanks to you,” Lane said, smiling a little.

Riley smiled back.

Riley reached a hand out towards them. They froze, turning red and squeezing their eyes shut. She softly ran her knuckles along Lane’s cheek, holding a piece of blue hair and feeling it between her fingers.

“Can I style your hair?” 

“Um… sure?”

Riley stood up and rubbed her eyes, leaving the bathroom and quickly returning with a stool, she gestured for Lane to take a seat. Riley pulled various hair styling tools from out of a drawer. She sprayed down Lane’s hair with something that smelled kind of sweet, then she pulled out clips, a brush, plugged in a hair dryer, and got to work.

“You have really nice, thick hair. I’m kind of jealous.”

“Your hair looks really nice though.”

“Yeah, but I have to put in effort.”

 She put down the dryer and pulled out a curling iron.

“I wanna try giving you some cute, messy waves,” Riley said, pausing. “But, it’s a pretty feminine look, and I know you tend to dress pretty masc.”

Lane’s heart thumped.

“You can say no, I totally understand if you’re not comfortable with that.”

Lane felt their face turn red.

“I-it’s ok.”

“You don’t have to just because I want to.”

“I w-wanna try it.”

Riley gave Lane a smile and started putting clips in their hair.

“You really seem to know what you’re doing,” Lane said.

“Thanks? I like doing hair, but I’m more into makeup.”

“Is that what you want to do, like in the future?”

Riley held a piece of hair in the curling iron, twisting it and holding it before letting it go.

“I wanna do, like, special effects makeup.”

“What’s that?”

“You know, making someone look like an alien or giving them fake bloody gashes or whatever. I like the beauty stuff too, obviously.”

“That sounds cool.”

“I guess.”

After a while, Riley took a step back, inspecting her work. She rotated Lane to look at the mirror.

“Wow,” Lane said, blushing.

Riley tapped her chin.

“Hmm, not bad, and it’s nice actually seeing your face, but it feels incomplete.”

“Incomplete?”

“I really want to do your makeup. Is that okay too?”

“Close your eyes.”

Lane felt little brush strokes on their eyelids, it kind of tickled.

“Stay still.”

Lane tried their best.

“You don’t have to tell me now, but…”

Riley dipped her brush into one of the palette squares.

“What was through the door for you?”

Lane’s breath caught in their throat.

“Sorry… It’s just that for me,” Riley said, walking around to Lane’s side to get a different angle. “It was this darkness, this endless gaping void. I couldn’t see it, but I knew something was in there, and it was trying to get out.”

Riley continued her work, their conversation quieting down for a moment.

“That sounds really scary…”

“Yeah.” 

Riley brushed Lane’s face with a big brush. They wanted to sneeze.

“I’m afraid my void might mean something.”

Riley pulled away from Lane, putting down the brush.

“I don’t want to imagine what it’s like through that door.”