2103:10:22:08:41:22

  I entered class at the same time as usual, though not as happily as I would’ve otherwise. Mom had called Millie’s mom yesterday to tell her what happened at the jewelry store the Saturday we went to the beach, and I was afraid Millie would blame me. While I escaped punishment, I highly doubted Millie was so lucky. Unlike me, she couldn’t really claim ignorance, after all.

  I walked to Millie’s desk, who, for once, wasn’t looking at her tablet with earbuds in. Instead, she was sprawled over her desk face down, hairs spread out like a spiderweb around it.

  “Good morning Millie,” I said carefully.

  “Uuuuuuuuuuu-” Millie said, voice rising in pitch the longer it dragged, until, “-UUUUUGH!” her head shot up, hair flipping over at the motion. “Did you really have to tell your mom? Couldn’t you just… not?” she asked with a pouty glare.

  I shrugged, feeling sheepish. “I don’t like lying.”

  Millie’s nose scrunched at that. “It’s not lying,” she said. “It’s just, you know, not telling. Huuuge difference.”

  “Hm,” I hm-ed in disagreement.

  Millie rolled her eyes. “God, we really got to teach you how to be a teenager,” she said, followed by her sighing. “Anyhoo, what punishment did you get. Like, house arrest or something?”

  I shook my head. “No. I didn’t get punished.”

  "What? How?!” Millie said. She made grabby hands toward me, which I dodged. Millie flopped over her desk instead, clasping her hands above her head in mock prayer. “Teach me your ways, o wise one.”

  “I thought it was you that was supposed to teach me how to teen?” But Millie’s puppy eyes didn’t relent. “Didn’t really have to do anything. I’ve got a, uh… how did you say it? A ‘tragic backstory’?

  Millie collapsed at the revelation, head softly hitting her desk. “Ugh. So unfair.”

  “So, what punishment did you get?” I asked.

  Millie groaned and said, “Have to go home immediately from school and no weekends out for this and next month. Unless I’m needed at work, but she called them too and I got punished there as well. Made me reduce my shifts,” She raised her head from her desk and proclaimed to the world, “So unfair!”

  A thought occurred to me. “Wait, what do you do for work?”

  “Oh, I never told you?” Millie asked. “I work for a small theatre company over the weekend, and sometimes on weekdays when necessary. Mostly stage production, or just, you know, being a helping hand wherever’s needed.”

  She suddenly grew more agitated. “But get this! The theatre was supposed to put on this big performance over the coming month – got actors coming over from outside the city, maybe even outside North America. I was promised some foreground work, but because of this punishment, I don’t get to do that anymore!”

  “Sorry,” I said, genuinely apologetic. “I should’ve-”

  Before I could finish my apology, Millie waved it off. “It’s fine, not your fault. Mom would’ve found out one way or another – the police calling because of our statements or things like that. It just sucks that we basically did nothing wrong, yet still get punished for it.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but was interrupted by two greetings. Saga and Jolie had entered together, both looking much more cheerful than Millie and I.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” Jolie asked. I had sent messages to everyone the moment Mom made her call, and while they hadn’t been with us in the jewelry store, I’d been informed that parents – or in Saga’s case, her caregiver – could sometimes behave… irrationally about things like this.

  “Sam’s got nada and I got house arrest for basically the next month. You two got anything?” Millie asked.

  “Nope,” Jolie answered cheerfully. “They were a bit upset that I didn’t tell them, but I just said since I wasn’t involved, it wasn’t my place to tell.”

  “Same here,” Sage replied, though some annoyance shone through. “My overseer got all up in my face about it at first, but couldn’t do shit to punish me or she’d get me complaining to her overseer.” There was a vicious, victorious edge to her smirk.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

  Saga razzed in response. “Oh please. If it wasn’t you, the cu-” Jolie quickly pocked her in the ribs with her elbow, “the bi-” she tried instead, only to receive another poke. “What’s your problem?” Saga growled.

  “Stop badmouthing your house parent,” Jolie replied. “You know you’ll get in trouble.”

  Saga rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m saying it to her face.”

  “Oh yeah? Say that to the three times you did exactly that,” Jolie retorted sharply. She then turned to me. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault.” I smiled in response.

  Not long after, from the corner of my eye, I saw Amber walk into the classroom and head toward our seats. She was earlier than usual, although with less than ten minutes to go until lesson started, she was still one of the last to arrive.

  I opened my mouth and said, “I got to go talk to Amber before lessons start.”

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  “‘Got to’, huh?” Saga smirked, only to receive a poke from Jolie again – with her finger instead of elbows this time.

  “Have fun,” Millie said.

  I nodded and went toward my seat. “Good morning,” I said to Amber. “Had a good weekend?” I asked as I sat down.

  “Can’t complain,” Amber replied. Which meant it was good, I think? Not bad at least. “How was yours? Did your, ah… sleepover go well?” she asked. Again, she was still hesitant whenever she asked questions. It meant I’d still not ‘broken down her walls enough’ or something. Or at least, that’s what Jolie told me.

  I smiled. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. We went to the mall, then to the beach before watching movies and eating pizza during the evening, played games, talked until her parents complained how late it was – basically a perfect teenage sleepover.”

  Amber snorted. “Yeah. In movies maybe.”

  “Yes, except without pumpkin-based serial killers,” I joked, though Amber looked at me weirdly. Maybe I’d referenced the wrong movie? I blamed Mom’s questionable tastes and moved on. “Though I did get involved in a masked encounter. Is there a movie like that?” It felt like there should be, but if there was, Mom hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

  Amber opened her mouth – likely to say something sarcastic – before my words registered and her eyes widened in shock. “Wait, you got involved in a masked fight?” she asked.

  “Wow, for real?!” To our surprise, another voice joined the conversation. George Carrigan, the boy sitting in front of me, turned around and was staring at me with wide eyes, excitement clear. “Who were they?! Was it one of the Guardians?!” he asked, leaning in forwards a bit too much for my taste.

  I leaned back to avoid him while Amber’s face twisted in distaste at the intrusion. She opened her mouth, undoubtedly to scare him off if the scowl was anything to go by, but was stopped from doing so by George’s deskmate Cleve – real name Clever McCants, though he preferred his nickname.

  Cleve pulled George back to a more reasonable distance. “Let her answer, man.”

  “Thank you,” I said to Cleve, who nodded in return. “I wasn’t involved in a fight-” I directed that toward Amber, “-but more like a… misfire, I suppose?”

  Amber snorted. “A misfire?”

  I nodded. “Some masked named Mauvist came in to rob a jewelry store, but before he got anywhere someone disabled one of his clones. He got spooked and they all vanished in purple smoke.”

  Amber nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation.

  George wasn’t though. “Who was the hero?” he asked, a bit more calmly this time.

  I shrugged. “Don’t know. They didn’t do anything physically – one of the clones just grabbed his head and collapsed. Never saw the other masked appear. Maybe they were there not as a masked but a civilian?”

  Amber sucked on her teeth. “Dangerous, that,” she said softly. It wasn’t just me that turned to her at the words, but George and Cleve did as well. Amber jolted at the sudden attention – she probably hadn’t meant to say it out loud – before steadying herself.

  “What do you mean?” Cleve asked, curious.

  Amber hesitated for a second, weighing whether she should speak out or not, before succumbing to the pressure. “It’s Treaty stuff. A hero attacking a villain while out of mask is dangerously close to exploiting their double identity to strike at a villain. The villain can’t really fight if they don’t know who to fight, after all,” she explained. “Though since the villain wasn’t caught, and the hero basically just fired a warning shot, I doubt anyone would care.”

  There was a moment of silence as each of us took that piece of information. I hadn’t really thought about it like that.

  George, though, fixed his attention on something else altogether. “Wait, you’re a masked nerd too?!” George asked, leaning forwards again, though this time towards Amber.

  Cleve facepalmed while Amber scowled fiercely, no doubt preparing to lay into him.

  I interjected before the situation could get worse. “But what should the hero do then?” I asked. “Not stop the crime?” I felt my Heroic Impulse rankle at the thought – it’d been a while since it’d done that.

  Amber, thankful for the distraction, turned toward me. “Ideally? Yes,” she answered, much to my dismay. “Unless other people’s lives are in danger, they shouldn’t intervene if they get involved out of mask. But again, I think this is more a ‘slap on the wrist’ kind of violation than an actual Treaty break.”

  I scowled, dissatisfied. “That’s not what happens in the movies. Or TV. Or books and comics. Shouldn’t heroes help whenever they’re able?”

  “It’s a risk-reward type a thing. Again, if civilian lives were seriously being threatened they probably could – and no, just waving a gun around is not enough. Not for Treaty purposes, anyway.” Amber rolled her eyes. “And seriously, you should stop taking cues from movies and stuff – it’s entertainment, not reality. You should just look to other masked and see what they say.”

  I nodded in sullen agreement, promising to ask Crowsong about it. I wondered what she’d think? Though knowing how she feels about the Treaty, I expected my mentor to agree with Amber.

  Silence reigned again for a moment, before George – as was quickly becoming a habit – broke it. Thankfully, his question was more reasonable this time. “But anyway, who do you think the hero was?”

  Before we could talk further however, Miss Sims clapped her hands and began her lesson.

  X

  After a double block of UniLang, lunch time arrived.

  Before my deskmate could escape, I asked, “Hey Amber, want to join us for lunch?” I’d already asked my friends again over the small break whether it was okay, and aside from Saga still complaining and proposing some conditionals – with Jolie putting a stop to the more ridiculous ones – they’d agreed.

  Unfortunately, Amber didn’t.

  She sighed in annoyance and said, “This again?”

  I winced, which only caused Amber to sigh again. “Look, nothing against you, but I just…” She trailed off in consideration. “Not to be mean, but I don’t want to hang out with your friends. Jolie’s fine, maybe, but Millie’s a bit too much for me. And Saga, well…” she trailed off, not elaborating.

  Once more, I found myself stymied by Amber not wanting to reveal the cause for her relative isolation.

  “You know it’s fine to have friends separate from others, right?” she said.

  I opened and closed my mouth, shocked. Was this what revelation was like? I’d always thought one’s friends were friends with one another, but it made sense for that not to be the case. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? If it did, it would be an almost mathematical certainty that everyone was friends with one another through the sheer force of the popular, friends-with-everyone people acting as a hub for everyone else.

  But wait! A second revelation. I grinned broadly and I looked Amber dead in the eyes. “You said we’re friends.”

  Amber’s eyes widened. “No, that’s not what I-”

  “Too late!” I said and went in for the hug before she could dodge.

  I made a friend, and I did it all on my own! No Millie to leverage things, through no other connection than being in physical proximity from one another; just me and me alone!

  A friend… No matter how much Amber tried to squirm out of my grasp, she’d already admitted it.

  “Alright, alright!” Amber said breathlessly. “Yes, we’re friends, now getoff!” I heard some snickering from the people around us.

  I let go of her and Amber rose out of her chair, all but dashing for the exit with her face flushed red. “See you later, friend!” I called after her, again to the amusement of the class.

  “What was that all about?” Millie asked as she joined me at my desk. Naturally, Saga and Jolie were following in her wake, equally as curious.

  “She let it slip I was her friend,” I boasted. “And I won’t accept take-backs.”

  “Ohhh, nice!” Millie said, going in for a high-five. The slap was loud and made my hand tingle, which meant the high-five was a good one – according to Millie, at least.

  “But she didn’t want to join us for lunch?” Saga asked. She didn’t sound surprised.

  I nodded. “She said that not all your friends have to be friends with each other,” I explained. “And that Millie was, and I quote, ‘too much’ for her.” I purposefully left out Saga’s ambiguous relation with her.

  Millie grasped for her heart in feigned hurt.

  “Well, she’s an acquired taste,” Jolie agreed.

  “Yeah, and that taste is ‘delicious’,” Millie countered. “Suppose I’m just too much of a good thing from our dark overlady.”

  I pointed at Millie. “Now that she’s my friend, you aren’t allowed to be mean anymore,” I, quite literally, pointed out.

  “Wait, you can’t do that,” Millie said, turning to Jolie. “Can she?”

  Jolie however agreed with me. “Friends don’t speak ill of other friends,” she proclaimed wisely. Saga echoed Jolie’s stance with a nod.

  “I’m not ‘speaking ill’ of her,” Millie complained, pouting.

  “Why do you call her that anyhow?” I asked. All three of my friends’ heads turned to me, looking surprised.

  “What do you mean?” Millie asked. “I thought that was pretty obv- Ohhhhh. Right.”

  This time, all heads turned to Millie, this time questioning her.

  “So basically, remembered what I said about styles back in the jewelry store?” Millie asked. I nodded in response. “Okay. Amber’s wearing some mix between goth and punk that gives off ‘dark’, ‘rebel’ and ‘edgy’ vibes – it’s countercultural. Which, you know, is basically also how she acts with anyone – except you, apparently.”

  “But doesn’t Jolie dress all black sometimes?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, but that’s just sometimes – she mostly just dresses well. Sleek, sometimes with a shorter skirt and a plain t-shirt,” Millie explained, Jolie nodding in agreement. “But she doesn’t go all in with long black hair, dark makeup, stuff like crucifix earrings, stompy boots or a pentagram star as a necklace, or leather jackets with metal bits,” she explained. “You know, the stuff Amber likes to wear. You see the difference, right?”

  “I suppose…”

  “Well, either way I’m just making jokes about her style, not necessarily about herself,” Millie said. She took on a questioning look with her fingers rubbing her chin. “Then again, I think her style fits her pretty well overall, so there’s little separation. But if you really want me to stop joking about her…”

  I shrugged. “It’s fine. Not like you were being mean with it.” I didn’t think she was, at least.

  Millie smiled. “Well, anyway. Good job on getting a friend!” She went for my head and before I knew it, she was messing with my hair again. “We’re soooo proud of you!”

  I scowled, which only invited Saga and Jolie to join in on messing with me. But no matter how much they messed up my hair, I couldn’t help but be in a good mood for the rest of the day.