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Chapter Text

"And now, the grand opening of Goiken High!"

The crowd surrounding the principal roars with applause. Cameras flash, and news reporters swarm to interrogate the staff about everything about the school. Finally, after 4 years of construction, Goiken High was finished in the late spring of 2023. The building was embellished with grand arches of white concrete, gold painted designs, small flowering gardens, white picket fences, artistic murals by the local communities, and a welcoming deck at the front for the students to come. Built with orangey-brown brick, the school was a sight for sore eyes. 

The soon to be 8th graders of Goiky would have the following autumn to apply. Goiken High would have the normal classes like math and science, but what made it stand out was the clubs it offered. Gardening, reading, cheerleading, soccer, and arts were just some of the clubs. They opened opportunities for the students to interact socially outside of the academic environment. 

Autumn came, as autumn will, signifying the applications finally closing. Then, on the cloudy winter morning a few months later, freshman students were picked to attend the simple school. The class of 2023 was a small class, only 66 students. Most of the students knew each other due to the tightly knit community, but they mostly didn't know others of their cliques— opening up new possibilities for odd combinations of students. After the winter, spring, and summer passed, the 8th graders selected were now going to become new, awkward freshman in the latest high school. The first day of school came to a start at last.

Match's POV

Like, finally, the morning of the first day of school began. I'm usually not a big school person, considering tests and exams are just — horrible! — but my like BFF, Pence Pence, was going to walk to school with me! I just had the perfect outfit ready. Red cropped tank top matching my darker complexion, layered golden necklaces, (one Pencil actually gave to me for my birthday, I, like, never go anywhere without it!) match earrings for my namesake, khaki cargos, red blush, and like adorable black converse with the reddest laces I've seen. With some difficulty, I styled my dark red curls that would totally not cooperate with me. Trust me, this outfit would look way better on my Yoylegram post. Rushing down the wooden stairs, I don't even like announce I'm leaving to my parents because really, would they care? I arrive at the foot of the door where Pence Pence rings the doorbell just in the nick of time! 

Pencil is a bit more modest than me, but her outfits are still totally stylish. Right now, she was wearing a simple yellowy orange sweatshirt with a white top underneath, a pleated pink skirt, charm bracelets on each hand, knee high brown heeled boots, and the prettiest lipstick ever. She had luscious blonde locks, fair skin, brown eyes, a cute button nose, and I could see her nails were painted pink recently.

"Hey, Matchy Match. Your outfit is definitely hot, like those earrings are to die for!"

Hot! She called my outfit hot!

I try to cover my blush blossoming over my cheeks. Like, in middle school, I developed this fat crush for Pencil. I mean, it's justified concerning that she's literally gorgeous. One time, early 7th grade, Pen asked her out and they dated. Luckily, Pen realized he likes guys and they broke up. Phew.. Sadly, I can't even ask her out because.. I don't even know if she likes girls!! 

Breathing a bit heavier now, I manage to make out, "Yeah, thanks Pence Pence! Put together this adorbs fit just for you y'know~ Now c'mon girlie, I am NOT being late for the first day."

Pencil laughed a bit at that. We like walked together to the school after a bit of silence. It's times like this where I really appreciate how Pence Pence is my BFF, because moments of silence like that would be awkward if we weren't besties. Checking BFDI Maps, the way to school is only about 15 minutes. If me and Pencil didn't have the same schedule, at least we could walk to and from school. 

Midway through the walk, Pencil slid her hand in mine inaudibly. Gosh, why'd her hand have to be so warm?! I squeezed her hand a little, just to let her know I was fine with it. Looking over, I could see the faintest trace of a smile on Pence Pence's lips. I wonder what chapstick she used. Her lips would look so good on min— okay Match. Let's stop with the fantasies.

"Oh my gosh, Matchy Match, this school is genuinely so big!" Pencil stopped in her tracks.

Wait, whaaa? This school is like, massive. Walking inside, we could see long cream hallways with bright blue lockers and a brown tile floor. Benches were spread across the hallways alongside trash cans, posters, lights, and the occasional fire alarm. Basically, a run-of-the-mill hall. Me and Pence Pence explored the cafeteria at the right corner as we were like, just a tad bit early. Students were already sitting at the circular blinding white tables. Here, the floor was blue tile with yellow walls that looked literally straight out of my bathroom. Seriously, it was kinda ugly. Breakfast was being served at the way back of the cafeteria, and a few people actually took some. Maybe I'd take like a granola bar, or something.

Pencil gasped and she led me to a table where Book, Ruby, Bubble, and Ice Cube sat. It was our old group— Freesmart! Or as Book once called it, Less Restrained, Less Dumb. Personally, I thought that was an ugly name (It kinda reminded me of Ice Cube's ugly face!) but Pencil didn't mind so I didn't either. We were like, the group back in our old school. Surprisingly, we all are here in Goiken High! They greeted us with an assortment of waves and smiles, and Ruby motioned for us to sit down. 

Our group had changed quite a bit. Book had straight, brown hair with black glasses, a tan, a green long sleeve with a blue long skirt and black Mary Janes. Ruby had untamed red hair flying everywhere, caramel skin, a graphic tee depicting a car crash with the caption "Two Trucks Having Fun" (seriously?) , blue jeans, and white dirtied sneakers. Bubble had curly hair which was dyed blue (kinda tacky!), a pale complexion, an oversized cyan to purple ombré sweatshirt with bubbles on it, dark blue jeans, and beige sandals. Ice Cube was probably the palest of them all, with stark white hair and eyelashes, a sky blue scarf (for who knows what, as it wasn't even that cold) a fuzzy long sleeve, a white skirt, skin colored tights, and like Book, black Mary Janes. Maybe they could be like, matching.

"So goiys," Bubble started in her unique Goiken accent, "oisn't it superb that we are all here in Goikian High?" We all kinda murmured variations of yeah, the awkwardness being very prominent due to us being in a new environment. Last year, we had a designated hangout spot in this one table in the cafeteria. It was the only pink table, and why it was pink wasn't known to us. Instead of engaging in the conversation starting to bloom, I went on Yoylesnap. 

I quickly did my snap streaks with Book, Bubble, Ruby, Icey and Pencil. Pencil must've felt the buzz of her phone and so she sent a text back.

“Matchy Match, why aren't you talking? Apparently, Bubble almost died twice this summer. Yikes! 😟"

"Pretty typical of her to be honest," I replied. "And I'm kinda like, bored. Can't class start already?"

"You? Excited for class? This is literally an alternate universe."

"Ugh, Pence Pence, sometimes I wonder why I am your friend. So nerdy. 😒😒"

Pencil scoffed at that. To be Pencil's girlfriend would be heaven. Anyways, she put down her phone and actually started listening again. Maybe I should like, talk, too. Leaning closer to Pencil and getting comfortable, I was about to speak— until the bell rang. Sigh... Getting up, I was gonna follow the group when Pencil wrapped her free arm not holding her phone around my waist. Oh my gosh.. why does she have to be this adorable?? After a bit of stumbling (she held me tighter when we went to a wrong corridor, so I liked those moments) we finally went to the office to get our schedules. 

The room had colorful, beige walls covered with stickers of flowers, rainbows, and overall like, childish things. There were blue plastic chairs at two opposing walls and doors leading to secretary, nurse, and principal's offices. I read Mr. Announcer was the principal— a totally famous game show host. Surprising to see him working in a school of all places! Me and Pencil walked up to the counter where the office lady sat. Her name tag read Ms. Flower SpeakerBox. She input our names into the computer and started printing our schedules. Looking at the Jolly Rancher jar on the counter then to Pence Pence who just smirked in response, I stole— no borrowed 6 Jolly Ranchers for Freesmart. I popped the watermelon one in my mouth and gave a green apple one to Pencil.

Finally, the lady gave us our schedules. It read,

(Schedule, Class 9G2, Match Stick)

(Period 1 - English, RM 231, Mx. Eight)

(Period 2 - Algebra 1, RM 444, Mr. Four)

(Period 3 - History, RM 117, Ms. Six)

(Period 4 - Home Ec, RM 238, Mx. Two)

(Period 5 - Lunch, RM 1)

(Period 6 - Finance, RM 126, Mr. Ten)

(Period 7 - Gym, RM 342, Ms. Nine)

Pencil showed me her schedule and like surprisingly, we had the same algebra class and lunch period! Now, I just had to endure first period, which was stupid English..

Chapter Text

Ringggg!!!! 

The bell rang loudly in my eardrums, signifying for me to walk a little faster to my first class, English, taught by Mr. Eight. 

The morning had come off to a quiet start, due to Firey running late and not taking the bus with me. We lived in the same neighborhood, just a few houses away— but Firey wasn't the best at staying on schedule. He insisted that he would make it on time, but I knew he'd be late.

School was actually kinda fun for me, if you take away the rude community. Even though everyone is kinda cruel, I always dress my best. Today, I wore a beige cardigan that had small leaf designs, with an olive green sweater underneath (I get cold easily, okay?), gold earrings matching my tan skin, and a dark green checkered skirt with a new pair of Vans that I was trying to break into. My long, wavy, auburn hair fading into a soft sage was tied up with a cream bow, a bit lazily today. 

Where were we? Oh, right. English.

Sitting down in my chair, Mr. Eight prepares to start his class when Firey blazes into the classroom, hungrily taking in air. His gingery red hair with some dyed orange-yellow streaks in it was extremely messy, sweat pouring down his tan face in rivulets. Firey was wearing the old red letterman jacket our middle school gave him, some stupid "Alpha Male" shirt, (really, he has no fashion sense at all) accompanied by black jeans that were a tad ripped at the seams due to wear and tear, and some old, once white, sneakers. 

“— Uh, sorry teach!" He gasps out in quick breaths.

".. You can sit down already," Mr. Eight speaks after a slight pause. I wouldn't blame him, who walks in sweating that much?

At the back of the classroom, I could hear a slight snicker. Looking back, it was Firey's old girlfriend. Match Stick. Ugh. I had an embarrassing crush on Firey for a bit now, and so some jealousy lingers from that. Also, Match is a prick. I mean, she gave off "mean girl" energy that I just wasn't a fan of. Plus, Firey is a boy, and I'm like 99% percent sure Match is hiding some weird lesbian fantasy featuring her bestie, Pencil— so her dating him just makes no sense. The closet is glass, people! 

Firey slides in the chair next to me. He flashes me a blinding white smile and starts to write down whatever the teacher is droning on about. At least, that's what I think he's doing. Actually looking over, I see he's doodling stupid, crude pictures of Coiny in underwear. Kinda gay, which is bad for my weird straight fantasies— but it's just a bromance. I hope..

Ripping out a piece of my paper, I scrawl "pay attention, idiot!" and quickly slid the paper onto his desk when Mr. Eight glanced elsewhere. Our fingers brush for a fraction of a second, making my heart skip a few beats. He was actually so goofy sometimes, but god he was so cute! 

He ripped out the whole back page of his notebook and wrote something on it, folding it neatly into a small square. It read, "talk w/o teach hearing?". Classic. I drew a simple thumbs up, which he responded to with a little smiley face. We talked some more on the page, him explaining why he was late, (at this point, I always expect the craziest of stories) me telling him about my summer, (very bland!) and him telling me he has a crush.. wait, what?! 

A crush? On who? I was honestly really curious because of the small chance that it could be me.. but after that Firey crumpled up the paper and stuffed it into his pocket with no warning whatsoever. With the way he was reacting, looking over his shoulder and avoiding eye contact, I was pretty sure it was someone we knew. Possibly Pin— or.. Coiny…

God... if it was Coiny... he'd be gay! I mean, I'm not homophobic!! In fact, I identify as pansexual myself. That just means I'd have no chance at a romantic relationship with Firey ever— and I'd have to "move on". How could I just do that? I mean I've never been the type to really move on from things but this would be even harder since, well... —how can you pretend that your deep love for someone just doesn't exist anymore?!

I was too caught up on my anxieties that I totally forgot to copy the grading system for the class. Maybe I'd have to copy it from someone else. And just like that, the bell rang, meaning the period was over. Firey started to pack up and head to his next class, so I decided to do the same. 

"I have Home Economics next, and I don't really care if I'm late— so can I walk you to your next class?" He asked nonchalantly, hands in his jacket pockets. I actually had Finance next, a whole floor down. But still, I agreed because anytime with Firey is quality time. I slid my backpack over my shoulder, and off we went into the bustling hall.

Voices could be heard from every corner of the corridor. Before we actually did anything, I got my textbooks for Finance out of my locker. It was kinda heavy. Firey, being the gentleman he sometimes was, held some of the books for me. When I sent a questioning look his way, Firey just gave me a suggestive wink. I could've melted on the spot! But the students around me reminded me to keep moving.

In times like this, I loved him even more, and I wished I could really show him that. Shame those feelings would be unreciprocated for as long as he continued to crush on Mystery Woman.(or man!)

We walked into the emptier parts of the hall, near the stairway. Tennis Ball was standing on top of the stairs, probably trying to impress Golf Ball with his new contraption. Firey was walking up the stairs, barely able to see because of the thick, thick textbooks. (Seriously, Mx. Ten?) Unfortunately, Tennis Ball accidentally dropped some part of his invention and it came all topping down— straight in Firey's direction.

Y'know flight or fight? I was the mysterious third option— freeze. I stood frozen to the ground as Firey fell down the stairs, books and invention all over him. A muffled yell could be heard from Firey, so I rushed over and helped him up while moving the clutter away from him. Tennis Ball and Golf Ball seemed to have the same idea, and gave me a hand. Firey seemed to be bleeding a bit on his cheek, and his right eye was bruised in a brilliant blue, with touches of purple. Wonderful...

"Well, don't we have to take him to the nurse?" Golf Ball impatiently screeched. Always the bossy bot.

I nodded, and Tennis Ball helped me carry Firey, who was limp in our arms. Golf Ball held the books I had dropped in my haste alongside the invention. She might be very bossy, but dang she was pretty muscular. We were headed towards the nurse's room, all the way at the other side of the hall. Guess I was missing Finance. Though, that didn't matter, because the only thing I was focused on was getting Firey to safety.

Chapter Text

Ugh.. How do I even get into situations like this?

Currently, I'm carrying Firey alongside Leafy to the nurse because of my clumsiness. He looks pretty bruised, blues and purples and what nots blooming all over his eyelid with some blood smeared on his cheek. If I didn't know better, I'd assume he'd gotten into a nasty fight with someone. 

How'd this all happen, Tennis Ball? Just because I tried impressing Golf Ball with my small, improved, trebuchet model. I'd made one before in my science class for a project, a traction trebuchet, where you'd use manpower to actually catapult the item in the bowl. Unfortunately, it totally combusted, and right in front of Golf Ball! Obviously, I always strive to improve my inventions, so I built the new one that fell and hurt Firey... right in front of Golf Ball yet again. It was actually way better than my old science project— being a counterweight trebuchet. It used a counterweight, in the model being a small rock, to catapult the bowl. Thinking about it, it must've been the rock cutting Firey in the cheek. You know how people say "history repeats itself?" This is evidence of history repeating itself.

At last, we reached the main office. The secretary at the counter motioned for us to sit down and wait for the nurse, albeit rudely. What was her problem? The four of us sat at some small blue chairs, Leafy closest to the nurses office, then Firey, me, and Golf Ball. The room was fairly empty; and I could clearly see Leafy was freaking out about Firey's injury. She obviously likes him, but Firey seems to be crushing on Coiny. Really, I just hope things work out for them as Leafy has been kind the times we have interacted.

Golf Ball seemed to notice me thinking about Firey, so she put a hand on my shoulder and muttered, "..your invention was good." Her words weren't really comforting.. considering I wanted my inventions to be great and amazing or even extraordinary— but I'd stick with good for now. Though, it’s the thought that counts.

Around 2 minutes passed, and so the nurse finally opened the door and let us in. The nurses room was decorated sparingly, most decor being posters of sick children saying "You Can Do It!" or something of that sort. The nurse was some random staff member, and I couldn't quite catch his name when he introduced himself. Leafy immediately set down Firey on the patient chair, who seemed to be waking up confusedly. Me and Golfie sat down at the other chairs adjacent to the filing cabinets while Leafy stood and explained what happened. Looking in the mirror, I could see myself and GB— me having a green sweatshirt with a collared white long sleeve underneath, grey circle glasses, brown trousers, dress shoes with my caramel skin and green hair while she had a long lab coat with a polka-dot turtleneck, simple pants, sneakers and circle glasses like mine, (all in various shades of grey) a white bob, pale skin and a golf ball embroidered on her coat— sticking out like a sore thumb with the unusually beige walls.

After Leafy explained the story, the nurse immediately got to work cleaning Firey's cheek. To be honest, the injury was pretty minor considering the weight of the textbooks and my invention. Thankfully, after a few minutes, the bruises were taken care of and we were able to walk back to class— Firey leaning slightly on Leafy. Golfie still carried the textbooks with a surprising ease; I'd have to ask her what her workout routine was sometime. (if she even went to the gym!)  

Me and Golf Ball shared 2nd period, which seemed to not be very far in. Handing the late passes to Mr. Ten, —our Finance teacher— me and her sat down near the front of the classroom, adjacent to each other. Golf Ball seemed to be really into this class, jotting down multiple equations at a time. I would never be as good as her at math and those types of things, hiding in her shadow. How could I escape Golf Ball's shadow if my attempts of introducing mathematics to my inventions always failed horribly? I mean, my inventions and engineering were the things that set me apart from her, my childhood friend— yet that seemed to be backfiring as well. 

What pulled me out of my thoughts was the loud noise of some random shenanigans right behind my seat. I could hear in clarity the voices of some new classmates I didn't know the name of, who were eating the whole time since we came in.

"Gelatin, NO— you can't take a fry!! This is MY large fries and shake!"

"C'mon Fries! Just gimme some—"

That was the last thing I heard from those two before I felt a huge splat of fries and sauce splatter on my sweatshirt. Yelping, I look back to their horrified faces, the one known as Fries whispering to the small one, Gelatin I believe, "..told you not to take one." 

With all the commotion, Mr. Ten finally looked at us and calmly ordered Fries and Gelatin to the seats right next to the teacher. Me and Golfie were able to go to the bathroom to clean up, Mr. Ten addressing me as the green sweatshirt while addressing Golf Ball by her given name. Surprisingly, bathrooms were gender neutral here, being inclusive to the nonbinary teachers and students. In retrospect, that was probably a great opportunity for couples, both students being able to be in the bathroom legally—but couples making out wasn't on my mind currently. Reaching the bathroom, I was already more irritated considering it took forever to find the washroom and the watery sauce was soaking my undershirt. 

My anger level was nothing compared to Golf Ball's temper. She was silently fuming, mumbling things like "stupid idiots," "why were they eating in second period," "sweatshirt soaked," and the such. I might be jealous of GB sometimes, but she was still my friend and her furiously ordering me to clean off some fries and being really bossy showed me she cared, in some way. There wasn't that many fries on me, just bits stuck to the sauce. It kinda disgusted me, having the soggy fried potatoes on my back. Eventually, I just decided to take my sweatshirt off, stuffing it in my bag. Golf Ball, being modest, turned away bright red. Seriously, I had a long sleeve underneath, so it wasn't really a big deal? People confuse me sometimes.

We walked back to Finance, surprisingly still having a large chunk of class time left. We'd spent 20 minutes in the nurse, 5 at class and 5 at the bathroom, leaving 15 minutes left. I calculated this just after Golfie blurted the same answer at the door of the finance classroom— again showing my inferiority in mathematics. Coming in, Gelatin squeaked out a sorry with a long hard stare from Fries. Obviously, I said they didn't need to apologize because I wasn't the type to hold grudges. 

Reaching our seats, we resumed the introductory lesson. Fifteen more minutes of class and equations..

Chapter Text

Sighhhhh....

Basically, English was like a TOTAL snooze fest, and now Algebra —even though I had PencePence by my side— was proving to be the same. The teacher, Mr. Four, was like insanely homosexual, constantly interrupting the stupid math lesson (math already? it's the first day!) to call his twink boyfriend or whatever. How this dude got a partner with the repulsive temper before I could even ask out Pencil, I may never find out. Luckily, there was only 15 minutes of class left, so I didn't have to suffer much longer.

I sat with my feet planted on the desk, chair leaning back even though teachers hate that, (seriously, I'm not going to kill myself and bash my head on the tiled floor leaning on a chair, like, what do you mean?) Pencil right next to me with her feet on my lap— dirtying my jeans a bit. I tried to play it off, acting nonchalant about how Pencil had her feet IN MY LAP, (oh my god!? she has her feet in my lap?) so I decided to distract myself from that fact.

I crumbled up a piece of paper and threw it at the back of this random dude's head, 'think their name was like Roboty or something. I don't care enough to know. The kid turned back and started saying something in this other language, probably Japanese. Actually, now that I think of it, there were a bunch of people who didn't speak English, like that girl with the ugly bowlcut who speaks Spanish. Due to the talking in quiet time, the teacher finally looked in our direction, came over and told us to "fill out this worksheet" and like "you're a bad student on the first day" and whatnot.

Honestly, I zoned out during the lecture. Pencil looked at me when he left and twirled her finger around her ear, telling me that Mr. Four is completely cuckoo. I snickered at that, because I totally agree —no SANE person would be a math teacher. Weirdly, he came back and gave us another worksheet for that!? Not only is he plain crazy, but he's also, like, psychic? I don't know.

By the time we scrawled random answers on the worksheet and faked doing work —still in the same position we were in fifteen minutes ago— class had ended. Oh my matchstick factory, finally! Getting our bags and exiting the room, Pencil was about to escort me to my next class when we heard,

"..is this on or— oh okay, Welcome all students and staff to the first ever day of Goiken High! Students of class 9G2, please report to the auditorium located in the basement level for an introductory assembly. Any questions you have will be answered there. Yoyle on!"

What wasn't embarrassing wasn't how the person at the speaker didn't know how to use the thing but was the stupid catchphrase they used, "Yoyle on!". If they say that at the assembly, I'd take Pencil— and I like guess the Freesmarters, then enroll into a new highschool. 

Speaking of PencePence, she was currently dragging me to the elevator where this teacher was going to get into, effectively breaking in. I'd let Pencil drag me anywhere. The teacher was like, "do you have a pass" and "why are you in here" but again, I had a talent of tuning out people. The teacher fell quiet after realizing we weren't gonna answer.

After like, half a minute, the elevator landed on the basement and we walked over to the auditorium. Luckily, I spotted the other Freesmarters! And like how Pencil dragged me to the elevator, I dragged her to our friends. Ruby and Bubble waved rapidly while Book and Ice Cube smiled at us. Finding 6 seats, like all together, was hard to find due to us arriving later than expected— but obviously we managed as usual. 

There was a bunch of time before the assembly, so Bubs started telling us about her amazing classmates— explaining how Ruby and her were in the same class. Book met this girl Taco, who she didn't seem to like very much as she kept disappearing on her? Honestly, I have no idea what crazy things happen in the Freesmart classes. Icey surprisingly had a fan of her Yoylegram in her class, this other girl Bracelety. She said that Bracelety girl was really stalkerly, but overall nice. 

Pencil started spilling about how we were together in "Eternal Algebra Class With Mr.Four" or the E.X.I.T., because there's nothing Pencil wants to do more than exit that class. I'd say the same, except my number one desire is kissing Pencil. I'd like, never say that though. Not in front of her! Before she should finish talking about how annoying our classmates were —who she dubbed the "EXITors", because she's unoriginal— the assembly, like, finally started.

"Ladies and gentlemen and all in between! Welcome to the first ever day of Goiken High!

"And all in between" was like, so cheesy, unfortunately. Ughh.. Let's see what the dude at the microphone says.

"First things first, introductions. I'm Mr. Announcer, your principal. This is Ms. Puffball SpeakerBox, your dean, by my right and Mr. Firey SpeakerBox, your counselor, by my left."

"So, let's start. Here in Goiken High, we hope to teach you great lessons like respect, compassion, empathy, generosity, and kindness. Our staff all will try their hardest in these four years to leave an impact on your lives; your diploma paving the way for your future.”

"Today, we'll do a fun exercise in this assembly to showcase how well you students work together and to establish familiarity in this school. What other best thing to do then a scavenger hunt?"

At that, a lot of people were getting like really excited. I wouldn't actually want to do the scavenger hunt, (mainly because it sounds extremely boring!) but Pencil seemed intrigued, so if she wanted to, I'd join in. The excitable whispers were dying down now, crowd of teens waiting for the principal to explain.

"Okay, settle down and let me explain. The lot of you will be separated into two teams, each having to find the same items. These items will be put on a list that the team leader, appointed by the team members, will have to cross out once the team finds the item. First team to hand in the list of items wins. The winning team leader gets a free win token, allowing the leader to skip one class period and bring five others to skip with them. Fair?"

The winning team leader getting a "win token" to skip class and bring five others to skip with them really got my attention, because that meant if any Freesmarter got a win token, the entire Freesmart group could skip class. Pencil seemed to have thought the same thing, because she looked over and gave me a stare that could only mean one thing- Freesmart was in it to win it.

"Now, teams! Please listen for your name to be called."

Please, like, have Freesmart all together, please—

"Balloony, Basketball, Bell, Blocky, Book, Bubble, Clock, Coiny, Dora, Eraser, Firey, Firey Jr, Flower, Foldy, Gelatin, Golf Ball, Ice Cube, Leafy, Lightning, Marker, Match, Pen, Pencil, Price Tag, Puffball, Remote, Ruby, Spongy, Stapy, Taco, Teardrop, Tennis Ball, and Woody make up the first team, the Squashy Grapes."

Yes! Freesmart, luckily all in one team. I love being a main character, so all my friends are like, written together for the plot. 

"Barf Bag, Black Hole, Bomby, Bottle, Bracelety, Cake, Cloudy, David, Donut, Eggy, Eight Ball, Fanny, Fries, Gaty, Grassy, Liy, Lollipop, Loser, Naily, Needle, Nickel, Pie, Pillow, Pin, Robot Flower, Roboty, Rocky, Saw, Snowball, Tree, TV, Winner, and Yellow Face make up the second team, the Squishy Cherries."

"Squashy Grapes, to the left side of the stage. Squishy Cherries, to the right side of the stage. Come to me when you have decided a leader." 

We got up and went up to the front of the stage, starting to decide (fight) over who gets that list. I was rooting for PencePence, because she'd totally rock being a leader while I co-led. Like, let the fight begin!

Chapter Text

The sound of these guys bickering is really hurting my head...

Before we went on stage as the Squashy Grapes and started arguing about team leader, me and Firey had exited boring Finance after being extremely late– entering class with about only half the class time left. We had met the rest of our simple friend group, which was only Pin and Coiny, who had been dating since this summer.

 I admired that Pin had figured out herself, considering we dated for a bit in early seventh. I thought we were pretty good of a couple, but it turns out Pin doesn't actually like girls like that. Our friendship was rocky for a bit after the messy breakup, but eventually we just got over ourselves and became friends again. We might not have what we had before, but maybe that was just for the better. Our relationship also helped me figure that I liked everyone– it just mattered to me whether their heart was pure or not.

Anyways, we entered the auditorium earlier than most, maybe because Firey literally ran down the stairs. One day, he's going to trip over himself and knock down everyone on the staircase like a bowling ball and some pins. We were seated near the back, Firey and Coiny in the middle of us four and me and Pin on the left and right sides of those two.

During the whole speech, we mostly goofed around. Pin brought some of her pretty post it notes, so we played "Guess The Drawing" where the artist started to draw something, and the players had to guess what it was before the artist stopped drawing. I also took some of her post it notes to make some origami swans and cranes. Following my lead, me and Firey made a dodecahedron while Pin and Coiny played the drawing game. Us not paying attention was kinda bad because we had no idea what was happening.

Luckily— Pin actually listened to the principal while playing, so she had the whole gist of the scavenger hunt thing and explained it to us. Our group was literally 2 idiots, one part time idiot, and smart cookie Pin. Me, Firey, and Coiny were the Squashy Grapes while Pin was excluded and a part of the Squishy Cherries.

At my side of the stage, no one could really decide a leader. Match and Pencil were super disgusted over Spongy, Flower was just being rude to everyone while this girl with crazy red hair was swooning over her, Eraser was just playing pranks with Blocky and Pen, Bubble was getting pushed around like crazy, these three people —one with purple hair, one with turquoise hair, and one with red hair—were playing with dirt?, and this girl with a blue and green blazer was getting mad at this other girl with a taco in her hand. 

Overall, just chaos. The other side wasn't fairing well either— but I didn't really focus much on who was doing what. Spotting Firey, I decided quickly to be nice and to help him be the leader. After all, I am the nicest person in the school. I have a whole list of niceness— and I'm at the top! Looking closer, I could also see that Coiny was advocating for Firey as a leader as well. Up a niceness level Coiny goes! Walking over, I exclaim, 

"Hey, Firey! Y'know, you'd look like a great leader. Can I help you out?" 

Firey beams that he has two supporters now and replies with, "Absolutely, Leafy! Coiny is also helping me out, if you didn't know already. Uh, also, thanks." He goes over to the edge of the stage and starts shouting "Firey For Leader!"

Giving him a thumbs up, I wander over to where Coiny is also shouting "Firey For Leader!" and start chanting it with him. Tennis Ball halfheartedly shouts "Golf Ball For Leader!" in retaliation, but someone else shouts— maybe Eraser, "Golf Ball is a bossy bot! No way!" Hearing all the "Firey for Leader" chanting, Pen, Eraser, and Blocky start shouting "Pen For Leader" as well. 

It's all super loud that the other team catches on— and soon a flurry of shouts for different people could be heard. Some of the ones I hear from the Squishy Cherries are, "Loser For Leader!", "Ice Cube For Leader!" —which is weird because Ice Cube is on our team, I checked— and "Winner For Leader!". Actually, that last one was shouted from our team, which again, is weird because Winner isn't on our team— but since I'm nice, I won't judge. 

Finally, Mr. Announcer gets sick of all the shouting and on the mic announces for us to stop. The stage goes quiet, after a little while. 

"Clearly, choosing your own leader is not working. On my laptop, I have open a wheel of each teams names. Whoever the wheel lands on, is the new leader."

"First, Squashy Grapes. Let's spin the wheel!"

I inwardly sigh, because that's a one in thirty two chance Firey gets picked. Or is it one in thirty three? I wasn't very good at math. Around me, I could hear mumbles of discontent and noises of excitement, the latter probably coming from unpopular students. Huddling close to the laptop, I could see the rainbow wheel spin around and round until it hit...

"Okay, Leafy is the leader of the Squashy Grapes!" 

I'm the leader of the Squashy Grapes?! Quickly, I raise my hand to see if I could possibly swap my position, but the principal is already spinning for the Squishy Cherries. Lowering my hand, I turn to Firey and apologize for taking the role of leader. Obviously, he says it's okay, but it was clear that Firey was disappointed. 

"Pin is the leader of the Squishy Cherries! Leaders, come here so I can give you the list. Once both leaders have the list of items, the event begins!" 

Wow, me and Pin are competing against each other! Going over to Mr. Announcer, I congratulate Pin for being leader when she gets her list. She's very excited at this, I can tell— Pin really likes being a leader, and she's good at it too. She congratulates me as well, but I would have preferred Firey to be leader instead. Still, I thank her. 

"Great! You have until the period ends, which is in thirty minutes. Now, start!"   

Reading the list, I can see that there's only five things to find. Whether this hunt is easy or not, I'd have to find out.

(Name: Leafy — Team: SG, 9G2)

(A bathroom with a star mural, RM NUM: __ )

(Second teachers lounge, RM NUM: __ )

(Largest janitors closet, RM NUM: __ )

(Smallest classroom, RM NUM: __ )

(Biggest science lab, RM NUM: __ )

Pin shouts, "Follow me!" to her team, but I decide figuring out how to find items efficiently would be better. I tell my team instead to stay here, and show them the list of items. Judging by the murmurs, a lot of people think this is not a lot of items for a scavenger hunt, which I agree with.

Clearing my throat, I say, "So, Squashy Grapes. How should we start?"

Golf Ball perked up and suggested, "Guys, listen to me please! I suggest that we split up into five groups of six, and the remaining two stay with Leafy at the stage to oversee everything and write everything down."

I could see that Eraser was going to say something about her bossiness or whatever but then he realized it was kinda a good idea. This other girl, who introduced herself as Remote, also agreed with her, making Golf Ball's eyes light up. 

"Okay, it's settled then. Um, guys, make five groups of six and one group of two, and come back to me."

Golf Ball pushed Tennis Ball to her immediately and said they'd be the team of two. Well, five more groups to go. 

Match, Pencil, Ice Cube, Bubble, and two new girls named Ruby and Book made up the first group of six, who set off to find the bathroom with a star mural.

Firey, Coiny, Pen, Blocky, Eraser, and this other guy named Gelatin made the second group, and they went off to find the second teachers lounge.

The first group that had all people I haven't seen before was the third group who was looking for the largest janitors closet. It consisted of two girls, Foldy and Dora, and four boys, Lightning, Marker, Stapy, and this guy who was surprisingly also named Firey but his last name was Jr, not Flammable. 

The fourth group had Teardrop, Spongy, Woody, Remote, the taco girl who was actually named Taco, and a new girl named Puffball. They journeyed to find the smallest classroom.

The fifth group had the leftovers, Flower and some people who introduced themselves as Balloony, Bell, Price Tag, Basketball, and Clock. That group went off to find the biggest science lab.

Finally, all the groups had been made and all I had to do was wait. Maybe I'd try to help Golf Ball and Tennis Ball with whatever they were doing, because I'd go down a niceness level if I didn't! Oh well, thirty minutes to waste..

Chapter Text

Golf Ball has the craziest ideas ever.

Right as the scavenger hunt started, I pulled out some schematics for my newest project I had been working on. I hadn’t exactly decided much about it, so I’d try to do that in this lazy period. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see that GB was also working on something— perhaps that new science experiment she’d been raving on about to me. Leafy was pacing, probably bored considering GB told her to stay put instead of facing the scavenger hunt head on. To be honest, this method of splitting up into groups while the actual team captain didn’t do anything was pretty abnormal to me, and I’m sure Leafy felt that same sentiment. I felt a bit nervous considering the principal was still here in the auditorium, watching us doing absolutely nothing, but I pushed that aside to ensure total focus on my project.

After about two minutes into the challenge, Leafy sat down in the middle of the stage and pulled out a book. However, she didn't actually read it as you might believe, but she pulled out her phone discreetly and started scrolling on her GoikTok with no sound on. Every now and then she’d turn a page, but her reading camouflage was a bit unrealistic. A few minutes after that, Golf Ball perked up, signifying to me that she had another idea. (As she always did.) Clearing her throat, she said to us in her usual boyish voice, 

“Hey, Tennis Ball, Leafy, come over here.”

Heeding her words, we walked over from our respective sides of the stage and to her area, sitting down next to her spot on the clean wood floor. Quieter, so Mr. Announcer couldn’t hear us, she whispered,

“We should spy on the opposing team to sabotage them. After all, that’d increase our chances of winning from 44.67102 repeating percent to 56.19236 percent. I suggest that Tennis Ball goes because, one, he’s not very notable from our team and smart enough to blend in, and two, Leafy is the leader and would be noticed while I suggested this so I don't have to go. So, do we continue with this plan, or no?”

Hearing “he’s not very notable from our team” dampened my mood a bit, but… if this plan would make Golf Ball happy.. I hesitated. Eventually, I agreed, albeit reluctantly. Leafy agreed as well with a little hesitation, possibly because she's a people pleaser, or possibly because she agreed with the plan. After confirming we’d continue with the plan, Golf Ball explained how’d we sabotage the other team. The main idea of sabotage sounded like something Eraser would do, but it’d have to make do if we wanted victory. 

It went like this– I’d tell the principal I needed to use the bathroom, then I’d locate Pin’s team. Quietly and swiftly, I’d have to blend into the group and act as if I’d been with them the whole time, or say I’d gone to the bathroom while they were searching. Using my prior knowledge of the school, which frankly wasn’t a lot of information– I’d try my best to nudge the group in the wrong direction. You could put it as I was being the “devil on their shoulder” encouraging them to make bad decisions. Hopefully this would slow them down, and they wouldn't notice I was actually on the Squashy Grapes. Leafy suggested I’d text Golf Ball along the way, which I’d also have to do.

Part One of the plan, go.

Mr. Announcer allowed me to go, and now the easiest part of the plan was done. Relying on my sense of hearing, I tried to follow the pitter patter of about thirty three feet stomping on the ground. It wasn't exactly a marching band, but simple to follow considering it was thirty three teens walking all together. Waiting for them to turn a corner, I slipped in the back, with only a few looks of confusion from some new students I didn't know.

The team was mostly just talking, like this girl who was loudly complaining about how she hated this challenge, this other purple haired girl who was openly flirting with the mean girl, Flower, who looked absolutely smitten, Snowball who was insulting Rocky for being short and slow, and this red haired guy who was speaking to this other guy in Japanese, I assumed. The ones helping Pin with directions were in the front, and that group was actually pretty helpful. Time to join that group.

Before I could though, the guy in my Finance class —Fries, right? Yeah, Fries– approached me and said bluntly to me,

“I don't think you are in this group, are you?” 

My goal was to blend in, so I’d have to act insulted that Fries was insinuating that I didn't know what my team was. Fries seemed nice enough, so it slightly pained me to speak rudely. 

“Are you implying I don’t know where my team is?” I scoffed. With an eye roll, I continued, saying, “Thank you for your concern, but I am a Squishy Cherry. I simply used the bathroom, if you were wondering where I had been.”

Fries narrowed his eyes, but just left to his friends. To be very honest, I would do the same. I suppose I’d apologize afterwards, because I wouldn't like it if I had gained a bad relationship on the first day.

Okay, now, Part Two of the plan, go.

Walking faster so I could reach the front of the team, I could see that many people were trying to guide the team alongside Pin. Talking a bit louder than everyone else, I almost scream,

“I think the next one is over that corner.”

Pin looks back, looks at me in confusion for a second, then accepts that I am actually a part of the team and not an imposter and she must’ve overlooked me, then turns the corner as I suggested. Yes! I have successfully guided the team to an ordinary hallway. Looking over Pin’s shoulder, I see that she has crossed out the star mural bathroom, reporting “Room 108”. Hiding my phone in my pocket, I start texting GB my information.

—

🎾inventin-tennisball
star mural room 108
do you have that

⛳bossybotball
Already got that, don’t worry. Group One arrived right now, and they are at the stage talking amongst themselves and doing whatever it is teenagers do.

🎾inventin-tennisball
you are a teenager gb?

⛳bossybotball
I suppose so. Now, please get back to the mission, as our team seems to be a bit incompetent, putting it nicely.

🎾inventin-tennisball
that isnt nice but okay, cya in a bit :)

⛳bossybotball reacted to “that isnt nice but okay, cya in a bit :)” with 👍

—-

I continue on giving out wrong information, or at least, I believe it is wrong information. Sometimes I will slip up and give correct directions. Throughout all of this, I keep Golf Ball updated. Luckily, our team seems to be catching up, finding things a bit faster than Pin’s team. Although, the last group is lost– and the Squishy Cherries seem to be right next to the last landmark, the biggest science lab. 

I was going great until this guy caught my eye, a GoikTok influencer named Loser I think– I don't go on GoikTok very much, and blurted out,

“Isn't that guy from the Squashy Grapes? Didn't he shout Golf Ball For Leader?”

I shot Loser a dirty look. Pin, unfortunately heard him, and realized that Loser was right. The team stopping in their tracks, some glaring at me for infiltrating their team. The same girl that was complaining earlier said to the whole group,

“Shouldn’t we kick this guy out? What if they STOLE our answers to the hunt? He could be a spy! I hate spies!” This plan was going horribly. Even though that girl was completely right, I started speaking, trying to defend my actions. My arguments fell short though, and I was kicked out, this albino girl kicking me in the shin to prove a point or something. Then she continued to play with her toy knife. Huh.

I ran until I turned the corner, then I pulled out my phone to text Golf Ball about the plan's failure.

—-
🎾inventin-tennisball
dang it!! they caught on, we’re screwed
did we get the last one, at least?
please say yes
gb?

⛳bossybotball
No, the last team hasn't come yet. I had to tell Leafy that you failed, and now she is anxiously sitting next to Firey, him playing with her hair. I would like if they kissed already, the pining is killing me.

Seen
—-

Interrupting my run was this guy bumping into me. He had an odd build, his torso and arm muscles being bulging, but with thin stick-like legs. He seemed to be a brooding, “emo” with jet black clothes, and an outcast who went to the gym often. But, stereotyping was rude, so I decided not to assume. He apologized, saying he was from class 9G1, and told me to say hi to Remote for him, since I said I was from class 9G2, which is supposedly Remote’s class. I didn’t know who Remote was, but I’d say hi to her for him. Was he her brother, or was he her boyfriend? I didn't know, but I quickly started running again.

—-
⛳bossybotball
You did okay, but now we only can hope for victory.
Calculating it, we now have a 39.07452 repeating percent chance of winning.

🎾inventin-tennisball reacted to “You did okay, but now we only can hope for victory.” with 😔
—

Reaching the auditorium, I knelt over, winded from the impromptu run. Tucking my phone in my bag, I walk to the stage and go to GB, disappointed that I couldn’t stall a bit more. Golf Ball’s face was unreadable when she glanced at me, going back to her experiment. At least one of us was able to do some work on their projects. Since the only thing left to do was wait, I decided to actually start my project.

I couldn’t even write a word down though, because the last team came rushing in, while Pin’s team came right on their tail. Our team shouted “Room 417!” from across the room, causing Leafy to snatch the paper with a swift motion and try to record it before Pin went to the principal to hand in the list. She ran to Mr. Announcer and held the list out… at the same time as Pin. That meant that it was a tie, and how we’d win the tiebreaker with only 5 minutes left of the period was beyond me. If only luck was on our side..

Mr. Announcer looked over the lists. 

He cleared his throat. 

The anticipation and suspense was killing all of us. 
 
Our principal knew that, so he stood there for a minute to let the fear sink in. The game show host part of our principal apparently was still there, with this moment of silence and suspense. The only person who didn’t care was a person from the other team who was holding a blueberry slice of pie. Perhaps they had a great poker face, or they truly did not care.

Holding his mic, he said, “The Squishy Cherries win because Room 417 is not the biggest science lab. Thank you for playing, you may be dismissed now. Pin, here is your win token.”

That broke the spirits of every Squashy Grape. Leafy, Firey, and Coiny didn't seem to be that sad, probably because Pin could use the win token for them as well. Golf Ball seemed to be moping, in her own way. I could tell because she’d dropped her pencil and her eyes were slightly clouded. Grabbing my bag, I waited for Golf Ball. We’d have to go to our next class, and I was going to walk her as an apology for failing the mission. We left the auditorium, crest-fallen.

Chapter Text

Finally, it's Halloween Eve!

Normally, I wouldn't be excited for stupid things like the day before Halloween. No one actually cares about the day before Halloween, really everyone loves Halloween itself— including me. I mean, eating trashy low calorie candy I bought instead of trick or treating —trick or treating is like, so out of fashion!— with Pencil? (because being slim is the beauty standard, can't get bloated— kinda like Bubble over here) Count me in! But, this school year is different.

I was just in Home Ec. with the annoyingly nice teacher Mx. Two, who was rivals with Mr. Four for some reason; writing down nonsense because why should I care about school? Me and Pencil were separated a week ago for, like, "talking too much" (as if, everyone is like so much louder than us!) so I was pretty bummed by that. Face down, I started to doze off until I heard the teacher say something that sent the entire class into excited chatter. 

Ugh, couldn't fun things happen after this class—when I'd already had my extra beauty sleep? Looking up at the frankly, outdated, chalkboard, I saw that "Halloween Duos Project" was written on it. Was it like an assigned duos project, or could I pick Pencil to be my partner? I was still too tired to be like, actually excited, but I was still a bit excited. Putting my head back down, I tried to go back to sleeping but those airheads I call classmates around me woke me up. 

My arms covered about half of my ears, so I could still hear when Mx. Two told us we'd have the project on Halloween Eve because Halloween was off— and we'd be able to pick our partners! Hearing that, I got up to send a look to Pencil, who thought the same exact thing! Like, what was the saying? "Grape minds think alike"? Or was it "great minds think alike"? Whatever. 

That was about a week ago, and it's finally fourth period. The bell rang, and I walked into the room with Pencil by my side. Entering the classroom, everyone was fairly excited. The chalkboard was decorated with jack-o-lantern drawings and tiny little bats and ghosts— really getting into, like, the Halloween spirit! Mx. Two told us to go over to our partners for the project upon entering. 

On the desks, arranged into fifteen tables with two desks in each table, sat a.. kinda cute? orange jack o' lantern bag with cooking ingredients inside. There was also two black bowls, a smaller orange bowl, and a pumpkin spatula. Really going for the Halloween vibe, but in a minimum wage teacher way. Turning my head to our teacher, they started to explain what we'd do today.

"As you guys might've guessed with all the cooking ingredients, we're doing a baking project today! Yippie!" That yippie was, like, so not needed. 

"You guys are baking vanilla Halloween cupcakes today! It's only extra credit, so if you burn the cupcakes in the mini oven I brought, it won't do anything to your overall grade. It's also only extra credit because you guys are my best class, and extra credit as a fun little thing is always welcomed, right?" They smiled. 

"So, if you'd look inside your bag, you would find pre-measured quantities of ingredients. In a bag, we have flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, unsalted butter, powder sugar, and some orange and black food coloring. Over at my desk I have the wet and fragile ingredients— milk, vegetable oil, vanilla extract, water, and eggs. Just follow the recipe, and decorate with the sprinkles and fondant on my desk as well. The best cupcakes get extra credit, while second place gets a homework pass. Okay, on your mark, get set, start!"

Pencil pulled out the recipe from the bag, and immediately started ordering me to get the flour, sugar and salt, baking soda, and lastly powder and then to stir that all up. See, another great reason for my fat, ugly, and stupid crush. She's an amazing and hot boss, and probably a good cook. (Pencil's only burned down the kitchen once!) While my hands hurt from mixing with the cheap whisk, Pence Pence went to our teacher to preheat the oven. She was talking with them, and I tried eavesdropping because obviously– stirring is boring. "Responsible" was one of the words I could hear from their conversation, which is totally untrue– wait, umm.. I should probably paint Pencil in a good light.. Sorry, I meant, "which is totally true."

She came back to our table, this time with the wet ingredients. Since I was done stirring, I passed the spatula (licked clean) to her– passing the burden. Cracking some eggs, the yolks were placed "delicately" in the orange bowl. We were, like, going pretty good, considering the other duos were fumbling with their ingredients. Obviously, we were making the superior cupcakes– the other students are idiots! 

Back to the project at hand. The recipe called for the icing now, so I had to go to Mx. Two's desk where they had the mixing machine. First the butter. Plop it goes. Cream that butter by adding some sugar then mixing– then add more sugar in two batches. One, two. Salt, milk, cream, then vanilla. Lastly, orange food coloring. By the time I added all the ingredients, Pencil had already been mixing the wet and dry bowls together. Soon she'd have to add the batter to the cupcake paper, bake it, then for the most fun part. Decorating! 

Again, the mundane task of mixing. Luckily, the machine, like, mixed the batter for me– leaving my hands soft instead of sore with red marks. I'm so glad I'm not a chef, because the mixing in literally every recipe would leave my hands calloused. Eww! I could see Pencil now putting the batter into the cupcake paper; just in time for me to put the icing into a piping bag. Other students (the more competent ones) were doing the same. Eighteen minutes, as the recipe said, then decoration!

During this time, me and Pencil sat back down; finally resting a little with the wonderful app called GoikTok where you could scroll for hours. The bag covered our phones, though badly. If you weren't the teacher, you could see us watching famous GoikTokers like jacknjellyfries, AnimationAwesome, CheeseHFK, Sacriey, or maybe even TurquoiseyGuy. Eighteen minutes passed insanely fast, like my deteriorating sanity. (I can't live much more first periods with the disgusting boys, who unironically thought poop and pee jokes were funny.) Soon our names were called up, and we could decorate! Finally. A few more people were decorating too– but we were around the first ones to do so.

Pencil put a dollop of orange icing on each of our six cupcakes. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. I arranged the cupcakes in a way that looked like a dick, stooping down to the boys level of humor— but it was worthwhile because I made Pencil giggle a bit.

Her laugh.. The most pure form of happiness was written all over Pencil's face, even if it was just for a split second. I looked at her as if she'd hung the stars and moon herself. Her laugh was like the sun shining on my face, curls flying everywhere while I frolicked in the meadow with her hands interlocked with mine. I've never done that type of sappy stuff before, but Pencil's laugh made me feel like I was there in that meadow, and not in this dingy classroom. Pencil was extraordinary, in more ways expressible than there was in the English dictionary.

Oh, god.. what was that? 

...

Well, anyway– I opened the package of rainbow sprinkles (oh, the cruel irony– do you think there is any lesbian sprinkles? probably) while Pencil opened the Halloween specific sprinkles. She spread a few pumpkins, skeletons, and ghosts here and there, leaving little room for the normal sprinkles. I took some sprinkles and put them in the open spots she left. The universe must hate my guts, because the sprinkles I picked just so happened to be red, orange, white, pink, and purple. Luckily, Pence Pence didn't notice a thing. What she did notice though, is that the rainbow sprinkles still had a lot left. No words had to be said. I split the bag, then we munched on sprinkles for a bit.

As soon as we finished, the timer Mx. Two had set –signifying five minutes left of class– had rung.

"Okay, class! Bring up one of your cupcakes, and I'll judge. Make sure to put a post it note on your tray to show which duo you are! Extra credit will be handed out tomorrow." They cleared their throat. "Also, don't clean up. There's only a few minutes left of class, I'll do it myself."

We brought up the most edible looking cupcake, after like, a minute of close examination. I think the teacher recognized the color pattern, being agender and all. They winked, and we were free to go. God, that's scary— getting winked at by a teacher at least fifteen years older than me! Well, at least tomorrow was off. 

Halloween, here we come. 

Chapter Text

Halloween, almost everybody's favorite holiday has come!

Today was a night of spooky terrors and cheap candy, so obviously– school had to be off. Currently, my biggest problem (other than the you know what problem with Firey..) was figuring out outfits for the group. I already had a costume, thinking beforehand unlike the knuckleheads who are also my friends. So, I was going to be myself, but an evil variant called "Evil Leafy" to fit with the scary vibe of the whole holiday and to be creative. However, Firey, Coiny, and even Pin, –I expected better from her, so this made me very disappointed– had no idea what their outfits were going to be. Being the nicest person I know, I had to help them.

It was six o'clock sharp; the trio arriving just after I'd searched my closet for costume parts which were now set on my bed. I was able to bring them over because my parents were going to be out in the backyard setting some decorations up while Grassy, my brother, was out with his friends. Tree, my other brother, was most likely in his room, probably moping over Black Hole or maybe taking care of the many plants he had, not unlike me. 

They were all gathered around my desk, homework scattered messily alongside some art supplies dumped out that we'd use if their costumes called for it. Coiny was trying to steal some of my saltwater taffy I had in a jar somewhere in the clutter with Pin swatting his hands away; Firey just sat awkwardly on a spot on the bed not occupied with clothes. Now, time for some Halloween magic.

"Sooooo, hey guys! I bet you three are wondering why I brought you here, right?"

"Sure we are, little leaf. We all know you want to make costumes for us," Pin interjected, chuckling fondly and rolling her eyes. Pin used to call me little leaf when we were dating because I was a bit underweight back then, and well my name is Leafy. I've gotten better at eating lately, so the name doesn't really make sense anymore— but it's still a nice callback.

Coiny laughed with her, living up to his "lovesick boyfriend" title. Firey looked at his socks.

"That's the gist of it, yeah. Uh– how about, Coiny, Pin, you can look at some of the clothes on the bed, try to, y'know, find something to wear for the trick or treating today. Coiny, if some clothes don't fit you, ask my brother Tree for something; his rooms down the hall– green 'do not disturb' sign on the door? Firey, well, you're with me." Firey nodded, looking off today. Come to think of it, he's been acting weird lately. Even though Coiny and Pin are great friends to me, Firey has always been my best friend, first and foremost. I'd have to talk to him about it, because seeing him looking so confused and a bit hurt pains me.

This started feeling like a school group project where I was the leader as soon as I'd split us four into pairs. Pushing that aside, me and Firey started looking through some clothes I had pre-selected specifically for him. 

I laid out some choices for Firey. "Okay, so I have a little red costume for you with devil horns. You can be Evil Firey with me to match!" I held up the costume; it was a bit shoddy but still wearable.

"Funny, but nah." Firey smiled at the costume, but pushed it away.

"Well, I guess evilness is not the one for you, but I have a pretty nice soccer player outfit, with a complimentary soccer ball!" I held that one up too, with the ball underneath my arm. 

"That's a pass, because Goiken football is better." He placed the ball gently on the floor while I put that one away. Seriously, Goiken football is better? Sometimes I wonder why I have a crush on this idiot. I rolled my eyes.

"A prince?" "Pass."

"What about a bear?" "Pass."

"A bumblebee? Bees are cute." "No thanks."

"Oh my gosh, your birthday suit??" I literally had nothing else for Firey to wear, so this was getting really frustrating for me. I tried taking some deep breaths before I lashed out on Firey or something of that sort. After all, he is my friend.

 "Absolutely not, pass!" Sighing, I looked around for the off chance that I had something else left. Kneeling down, I pulled out a box underneath my bed where it sat— an old, kinda dingy? fireman outfit. It had belonged to Tree, but I took it a few weeks ago because he was cleaning out his closet and thought it looked cool.

"Okay, I have one last thing. A fireman. Take it, or leave it." I had the costume folded nicely in my hands while I put the fireman cap on my head. Firey hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not he'd want to be a fireman. Honestly, it was fitting for him because his name was Firey and all.

"..." Firey's prolonged silence made me uneasy. If he didn't like anything I chose out for him, then what makes this costume better than the rest? What if he's debating on whether or not he should lie to me about wearing this to Halloween because he doesn't want to hurt my stupid feelings? If he lies to me about this, who knows what else he could be lying to me about?! Does he find me annoying? Am I not good enough?? Is this a silly thing to spiral over? Am I overreacting? I look over to Coiny and Pin, hoping my anxiety doesn't show on my face.

"Fine, I'll wear it. Firemans are actually pretty cool, if you think about it." Firey took the costume and put it on the bed. He took the cap off my head which I momentarily forgot about during that whole episode– and started mimicking washing away a fire with a hose. I let out a breath I barely knew I was holding. His childish behavior in a way, comforted me. Of course, he wouldn't not want to be my friend, we've known each other for 9 years. Since I was five! Firey didn't know it, but he actually calmed me down. I had a stupid grin on my face.

We walked over to the side of the room that Pin and Coiny were occupying. It looked like they had found a costume, which was great. Coiny waved us over. 

"Yo, Firey and Leafy! We have a costume now, we're going to be..." Coiny nudged Pin in the shoulder, encouraging her to continue the sentence. Pin scoffed but with no meanness behind it. "We're going to be business women and men, so we can match and so Coiny can throw fake money at people." Coiny leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. I looked away, and again so did Firey. I was still getting used to their public affection, but I didn't know what Firey's reason was. Again, I had to talk to him about that. 

"That's honestly very real," Firey started. "Who wouldn't want to throw fake money at people?" I laughed. "Exactly! Pin is just a hater." Coiny exclaimed Pin lightly punched Coiny's arm. I checked the clock. Six-forty five. We were going to start trick or treating at seven, so we had to get ready about now.

"Guys, wait. It's six-forty five, I think we should probably get ready. I'll get ready in the bathroom first, promise it won't take very long." Pin and Firey nodded while Coiny gave a thumbs up. We all got dressed up in fifteen minutes; we'd be a bit late but it was fine. We all got some big pillowcases, hoping for the good full-sized candy bars and not toothbrushes from the weird local dentist. I said goodbye to Tree, and off we were into the night. It was a bit chilly, but we'd have fun nevertheless. 

Pin and Coiny were at the front of the sidewalk and Firey and I were striding behind them more slowly. Better now than never to talk to Firey about how he really seemed to not like Pin and Coiny's relationship. I tapped Firey on the shoulder, looking him in the eye and murmuring, "Can we talk?" He looked confused, wondering what he'd done but I reassured him it was nothing inherently bad. 

"What did you want to talk about, Leafy?" He said in a hushed tone, noticing this talk was just really meant for him and not for Coiny and Pin's ears. They seemed occupied anyways, so it was unlikely they'd notice us walking slower than usual. Unsure of how to start, I played with my hands a bit; eyes darting here and there, before clearing my throat.

"I mean, sorry to intrude, but you've felt— how do I put this.. weirder lately? So, you've kinda been acting skimpy near Coiny and Pin, especially when they kiss or something." I really hoped I didn't say anything bad, and Firey didn't talk to me anymore. That hasn't happened before, but I was always prepared for the worst. Firey stopped for a moment, then started walking again; never looking at me directly. 

"It's really nothing, and I am super sorry you thought I disapproved of their relationship!" Firey's eyes got a bit wide at that, voice more high pitched than normal. "I.. just don't know what's happening. Swear to tell you once I finally figure it out." He bit his lip, finally making eye contact for just a second. I could feel there was something more he wanted to say, but that was left lingering in the air instead of it being confessed. I took his now sweaty hand and squeezed it, once, twice, before letting go. He visibly deflated when my hand pulled away, but I didn't notice. Since our "talk" was over, we walked faster and tried to rejoin the conversation. 

"Trick or treat!" We chanted in unison, finally reaching the trick or treating neighborhood. The adults smiled and poured the sweet candy we'd get sick from eating all at once into our pillowcases, only a few asking if we were too old to trick or treat. Pin rants about how it's "absolutely absurd that you can be too old to trick or treat"— her words, not mine. Coiny plays around with Firey, Pin and I trying to stop them from terrorizing the littler kids. Although some pranks were played, whether it was by Coiny, Firey, me, and even Pin. Firey actually seemed genuinely happy, and he didn't really act weird around them. That made me smile. 

At about nine, Coiny ultimately decided his pillowcase was getting too heavy and we had to go back to my house to see our bounty. Firey snickered that he couldn't carry it, causing them to start playfully bickering about stupid things. Me and Pin shared a look. They had nothing going up in that head of theirs, huh. Then we started laughing, and by the time we got to my room our throats were sore from all the howling laughter. 

All the candy was dumped on an old bed sheet I had placed on the floor just in case the candy wasn't wrapped. I got out some beanbag chairs and my laptop, and we put on A Nightmare Before Christmas, not without some arguing over the perfect movie to watch tonight. Pretty sure it qualified as a Halloween movie, so Firey– you were wrong. Accept it. 

We had so much of the candy that by the middle portion of the movie, only a quarter of the candy was finished; our stomachs were probably dyed in rainbow colors by now. Pin suggested we put it back, and for the rest of the movie we didn't have any snacks. We would have a sleepover later; exciting everyone, but right now– all I could think about was that this was the best Halloween ever.

Chapter Text

Has trick or treating always been this fun?

Golf Ball and I have always gone trick or treating together every Halloween, and this year was no exception. However, there was something odd this time around. Golf Ball just seemed so much more.. alluring. I was wearing a tennis player outfit (even though I don't like sports very well) while she was wearing a Test Tube cosplay, a character from this object show she really liked. It was really a perfect costume, Golfie was similar to Test Tube in ways while still being very unique. It was such a simple cosplay, but why were my eyes just drawn to Golf Ball?

Aside from that, she made me feel nervous yet exhilarated just with her bold personality. She was always one to speak her mind, and I have always loved that about her. Was that normal to feel about your best friend? 

Golf Ball was so distracting I didn't even notice she was talking until I saw her hands flying everywhere, her way to try to express her words better. "..honestly! We are so great at trick or treating! I am very sure that everyone will be jealous that we got this much candy, and grovel at our feet for praise from the amazing ball duo!" She exclaimed, arms outstretched as far as they went. 

I really only listened to the last part of her whole speech, flustered a little because Golf Ball deserves my undivided attention. Though, I was paying close attention to her– but her words weren't what I was paying attention to. "I don't think they would grovel at our feet, GB." I smiled just a bit. "But, I guess we are great at trick or treating though." Golf Ball visibly brightened at the compliment. 

After a bit more of walking back to our homes for the night, we fell into a soft silence. It wasn't at all uncomfortable, in fact we were content to just walk together as one. If I were to ignore the sounds of the street, I imagine I'd be able to hear Golf Ball's steady breathing. While we walked, I was silently calculating our accumulated amount of candy that we had gotten this evening. It really was fascinating, mathematics as a whole. It was funny because I truly believe Golfie was thinking just the same thing as she counted our baskets full of candy, and I appreciate that I have someone who liked math and science just as much as I did. Another reason on the ever growing list why Golf Ball was so admirable.

Finally, we reached her destination. GB went inside not before waving me goodbye with a large grin on her small face. Admittedly, I was a bit sad to see Golf Ball go; but we'd see each other on Friday for school. Speaking of Golf Ball, her birthday was in just a few days– November 4th. It was just five days away, and I had not made her a gift yet! Better not to procrastinate any further, so I decided to work on something right now. 

—-

At home, I paced in my bedroom trying to think of a gift for my dearest friend. She was very important to me; always being by my side and encouraging me to do better, and so I wanted to show those feelings wrapped in a pretty bow for her 14th. Simple things like buying her a pre-made card from the drugstore is out of the question as she deserves something grand but not too grand. Homemade, yet not too homemade it would look poorly crafted. Full with love, but not too full with love to imply something other than platonic feelings. Basically, nothing less than perfect was going to fly for this project. Project Get Golf Ball An Amazing Gift. Was it a mouthful? Maybe. 

I walked over to my desk, trying to find something. All that was on my desk were some unfinished geometry questions (I'd get to that later, this was more important), an origami swan gifted to me by Teardrop, a few loose parts of some of my engineering failures that I'd have to clean up as well, and of course pens, papers, and folders. Wait. I looked back at the math, and then at the swan. I think I had an idea of what I was going to give Golf Ball– an origami quasi-rhombicosidodecahedron! A rhombicosidodecahedron wasn't either of our favorite shapes, it being the fourth for me and the second for Golfie, but I wasn't going to make a simple sphere– her first favorite shape. Truthfully, it was going to be a bit of a struggle, although I'm sure I could follow a 2 hour origami tutorial. This was sounding more ridiculous by the second but Golf Ball deserved the best of the best.

I sat on my bed, legs criss-crossed with my laptop directly in front of me; multi-colored origami paper off to the side with tape if I mess up. Usually, I was a bit clumsy, but I personally think I wouldn't come to the point where I'd have to use tape. Better to be safe than sorry though. The tutorial started up, but the abnormally long intro almost blinded me with the bright transitions and neon colors. Okay, I could do this. Two hours.

—-

Two hours later and I had a mess of origami strewn all over my bed, an empty leftovers container on my nightstand that I was eating, and a half shapen, atrociously made quasi-rhombicosidodecahedron barely held together by tape in the thick of it all. Honestly, what was I supposed to give Golf Ball now? This mess? I tried laying down to calm my breathing because I was stressing now, but I fell on top of a pentagon star. The absurdity of it all woke me up from my stupor. I was still a bit stressed, but I did have to go to sleep sometime. Really, maybe after a bit of sleep I'd be able to think of something new.

With a burst of motivation, I gathered up the pieces of folded paper and the collapsing rhombicosidodecahedron into a trash bag, and put back my tape where it belonged. Maybe later in the morning, I'd do my unfinished geometry questions and wash up my container on the nightstand. Logging out of my laptop, I put that back into my bag. After my night routine of brushing my teeth and using the bathroom, I dropped back into bed feeling a bit more accomplished. True, the quasi-rhombicosidodecahedron was a total failure– but after cleaning it up I didn't feel so bad about it. I could make up for it in an exciting, astonishing gift for Golfie over the weekend, which she rightfully earned from sticking with me for so long. Finally, I fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Honestly, this is probably the most boring Monday ever.

Enduring a Monday is not for the weak, because it seems to me that every week it just gets more and more stupider. Even Home Ec with Pencil, probably the best period of the day other than lunch because of Mx. Two, the most lenient teacher ever, was finding new ways to tire me. Pencil and I were still separated, so I had to deal with Flower and her ranting in my ear about how her sweaters she was making were failures and how this "pretty" girl Lollipop was ignoring her texts. Mx. Two seemed to be talking about how you should always wear proper safety equipment when baking or whatever, while I was using my phone underneath the desk. 

I was just scrolling through Yoylegram reels, watching people try on cute clothes and going to pretty vacation places with the occasional meme appearing on my recommended page. Sure, like some of them were kinda funny, but really this was just boring me more. Clicking out of the app, I decided to go text Pencil something and hope she'd notice. 

—

💖matcheesymonster

pencill this is so boring

get on ur phone rn 

🙄

💕pencilypencepence

what

this is the best class actually bc we dont do anything

💖matcheesymonster

literally thats the problem!!! im

so so so so so

boreddddddd

💕pencilypencepence

hmmmmm deal w it?

💖matcheesymonster

no

💕pencilypencepence

wait hold up teach is saying smth it might be cool

they interrupted the lesson

💖matcheesymonster

srsly? 

its not going to be cool 😐

💕pencilypencepence

no like actually

trust me

—

Sighing, I looked up from my phone and shoved it into my open backpack. I tried to look as if I was the slightest bit interested, but it was kinda hard because I really couldn't care less. The teacher started speaking, putting their phone down after they had picked it up to check something. The printer also started printing something, maybe a worksheet. Please don't be a worksheet.

"So guys, I just got an email and I have to show this to you. Usually, your homeroom teacher would show things like this to you, but us teachers got this on short notice." I was starting to literally fall asleep at this point. Seriously, just get to the point! 

The printer finished printing, and Mx. Two pulled the papers out, setting it down on the desk. "Basically, it's about a new autumn talent show the school would like to host! Personally, I would love to join, but we have to set up everything instead. I think I will be one of the judges— so make sure to behave and I might give you a higher score," They winked. "I actually have the papers here because I just printed them out. So, at the end of the period I'll hand these out. Make sure to drop them off at the main office to enter!" So it wasn't a worksheet, thank God. But a talent show?

I looked down at my bag and saw the bright screen of my phone, obviously meaning that Pence Pence texted me. Discreetly reaching down, I opened Yoylegram up again to respond to her. Mx. Two started the lesson up again while I ignored them as usual, but I'd be fine as I'd learn whatever they were talking about later from someone smart in the class.

—

💕pencilypencepence

told u it was important idiot

💖matcheesymonster

that like rlly hurt my feelings 😓

💕pencilypencepence

suck it up

anywayss r we joining??? we could literally be a duo

💖matcheesymonster

sure but what about freesmart

wouldnt they like to be an act w us 2?

💕pencilypencepence

doesnt rly matter tbh theyd understand

so whats our act

💖matcheesymonster

girlllll! dont act clueless 😪

obvi we r singing tg ❤

💕pencilypencepence

yesss

—

So, that was that. Now, we just had to wait until the end of the period, and we'd be on the way to becoming the winners of the talent show. I put my phone back and zipped my bag up. Leaning back on my chair a bit, I actually concentrated on the lesson for once. Maybe Mondays wouldn't be so bad.

Chapter Text

Are we really having a talent show this month? 

Talent shows aren't exactly my strong point. It's odd, but for some reason– I have really disliked talent shows since elementary. Maybe it’s because I’m not that remarkable in most fields, or maybe it’s because I didn’t have anyone to do talent shows with. My first show and last show was in third grade —when my friends didn’t know me yet or weren’t in my school yet— and it was a total bust. Normally, I can keep my anxieties in check most of the time and function like an average human being. On the stage, in front of the crowd where the audience can see my every flaw perfectly, it's much harder to function perfectly. Sucks, right?

Hopefully this year was going to be a bit different, considering I’m not a small eight year old anymore and I actually have a few people I talk to regularly that would perform with me. On the topic of my friends and the talent show, I had yet to ask them to perform. I could possibly ask them in passing, if the period could end already. I tap my fingers rhythmically on the wooden desk, focusing on the sound in a way to pass the time. Somehow my eyes find a way to stare at Firey, though I leave them there because he’s more interesting than my classwork. 

Finally the bell rings shrilly, and I clean up quickly in the hopes of meeting Pin and Coiny with Firey before they go to their next period. Walking over to Firey, I see he isn't quite done stuffing papers into his bag and so I linger at his desk. He acknowledges me with a small nod, finishing up and pushing his chair in. I walk with him. Deciding to be straight to the point, I ask the big question.

“Hey, Firey! So, talking about the talent show that just got announced, would you like to perform with me?” My hands just magically become fidgety, wishing Firey wasn’t so slow at answering questions because the anticipation was really killing me. 

But Firey only just laughs, saying “That’s just what I was going to ask you too!” It's a confirmation though, so I smile. 

On the way to Coiny and Pin’s classroom, I explained how I wanted all of us to perform. I didn’t know what act we were going to do yet, but maybe one of us could figure it out later. We had three weeks anyways; it wasn’t going to be that hard. Maybe we could practice whatever we were going to do in my house since it was mostly empty (aside from my two brothers) with my parents both having jobs. Reaching our destination after bumping into about ten people, the two wave us over. I kinda regret telling them this before lunch instead of in lunch, since we’d be late with all the explaining, though I guess it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

“Hey Firey and Leafy, how’s it hanging?” Coiny asks. His hand is wrapped around Pin’s waist, bringing her closer. Pin is slightly taller than him, so she leans shyly on his head.

“We’re fine, thanks!” Firey chirps. He’s always so happy with Coiny, I’m kind of glad they made it past their ‘enemies’ phase in middle school. After all, Firey’s smile is really cute, and I see his smile a lot with Coiny. 

After exchanging pleasantries, I delve into explaining my plan as we walk. This time, I don't have to do all of the heavy work explaining; Firey starts off where I pause. Pin gives a few understanding nods from time to time and Coiny has a slight sparkle in his eyes. Obviously, the two accept immediately, loving the idea of performing all together. Honestly, I’m surprised that I was even worried in the first place, because my friends are always amazing and up to new ideas. I can’t see it, but I probably have the largest grin on my face ever.

The bell rings, and our faces go pale white. We’re going to be late for lunch! I sigh, and we start the embarrassing journey to the lunchroom.

Chapter Text

Wow, a talent show!

Normally, I’m not the type to perform on a stage. Rather, I enjoy being on the side; the producers making the film and not the actors on the big screen. But this year, there was a prize involved! A quick glance at the form in my hands confirmed that, yes, there was a prize– a free four tickets to any museum in the city! Museums are usually free to enter, like the “Science Museum” in Yoyle City, but there are a few pricey ones like “The Hall of Science” located in downtown Goiky. So, I guess this time around, I’ll be competing in the fall talent show. Maybe I’d even be able to perform something with Golf Ball, if she accepts.

Golf Ball was sitting right in front of me at our lunch table, eating her soup that she’d packed, oblivious to my thoughts. Since building a rhombicosidodecahedron out of origami wasn’t effective, I made a little golf ball plush with help from Pin since she knows how to sew. I think Golf Ball liked it, even though I could’ve made her something better, since she hugged me straight after. She actually almost knocked me down, even though she was so small. After the small party she hosted, with me and her family, we hung out in her room. It really was fun, tinkering with some things she had out on her bed.

“So, TB, what do you say we do for the talent show coming up?” Golf Ball asked suddenly. I was a bit surprised, considering I was just thinking about that too— but I shook out of my stupor rather quickly.

“Well, I don’t know exactly. The prize is four free tickets to any museum, and I believe if we partner up, that's eight! Though, if we partnered up, I don’t exactly know what act we’d do,” I looked back at the paper. Sure enough, it's four tickets for each member in a group. Very enticing.

“Eight, really? I suppose we could partner up then, I have a cousin who wouldn’t mind going on a trip to a museum with me. How about we think of an act tonight?” GB suggested. I nodded, happy that Golf Ball actually wants to do a talent show with me. In fact, I believe she hates performing just as much as I do, meaning this is much more impressive.

“Okay, that's fine. What museum would you want to go to?” The Hall of Science was the museum I wanted to see, however if Golf Ball wanted to go somewhere else, I would go with her.

She tilted her head, thinking. Finally, she replied, “The Museum of Science and Technology?” Oh, I forgot about that one! 

It wouldn’t be a bad choice, so I agreed and went back to eating my sandwich. I think this is going to be my first talent show that I will actually enjoy, especially if there's a fun prize and Golf Ball is included.

Chapter Text

Thinking of ideas is unnecessarily hard. 

Seriously, what the hell? Even with all of Freesmart cooped up in Pencil’s room, — we were going to have a sleepover, but it wasn’t exactly time to go to sleep yet — nobody can think of a good song to do for the talent show. I don’t even know why we thought this would be a good idea, since the prize is literally so stupid. Nobody in Freesmart actually likes museums, except for like, Book. But alas, there’s nothing to do in Goiken High other than do classes, so this talent show will have to do. 

I shifted in my spot on one of Pencil’s beanbags, finding a more comfortable spot. Pencil and Needle (a newbie to the group, she just started sitting with us one day and now she's apparently a part of our sleepovers?) sat on the bed and Bubble, Book, Icey and Ruby sat on the floor. Me and Pencil were to share the bed while the other girls slept on a mattress on the floor that we’d have to set up sometime soon. Honestly, I don't like Needle very much, so I’m glad I get to sleep with Pencil and Needle doesn’t. Not that I have any other reason to want to be in the same bed as her; that's just weird behavior.

After a minute of uninterrupted thinking, Pencil started speaking. “So. You’re saying, nobody knows what song we should do for the talent show?” She had an annoyed expression on her face, which was justified considering I was starting to get a little irritated too. 

“Well, you and Match are the only ones in the talent show, why do we have to think of ideas? Shouldn’t you be thinking of them?” Ice Cube replied. She also looked annoyed, but she didn’t have a right to be annoyed. After all, she wasn’t the one competing, was she?

“Yeah, I kind of agree with Icey on this one. Not that I don't mind thinking of ideas, I don’t, but it is a bit strange,” Book agreed. 

“Another reason why you guys are alternates, because if you don’t agree with the group then you shouldn’t be here. End of story.” Pencil sighed. “You know, I regret inviting you guys to the sleepover. You obviously don’t want to be a part of it.” 

Needle cleared her throat. “I’m an alternate too, Pencil, so are you saying you regret inviting me?” Needle glared at Pencil. This was just getting out of hand— I only wanted ideas for the talent show. Not that I didn’t agree with Pencil, but she was taking it a little too far for something so small. 

Before the entire thing escalated further, Bubble stepped in. She was one of the girls who didn’t like confrontation, alongside Ruby. I wasn’t one of those girls, but I was too tired right now to make a big statement. Instead, I just nodded my head whenever Pencil talked. She straightened up, raising her voice to be heard over the bickering of Pencil and Needle. “Goiuys, doin’t you think thois is getting a bit oiut of hand?” She had a frown on her face, looking like a disappointed mother.

“Fine, okay. I’ll think about the talent show myself. So will Match. Happy now?” I could tell Pencil was still angry, but she pushed it down for the sake of keeping the group together. Bubble reluctantly smiled.

Needle looked like she wanted to say something more, but she kept those thoughts to herself. Instead, she got up from her spot on the bed, saying she wanted a snack. Surprisingly, everyone but Pencil and I went to go follow her. Was the issue really that big that the group had to distance themselves from Pencil? She didn’t even do much wrong. I got up from the beanbag to go sit next to her, considering we did have to perform something. It was Saturday, meaning it had been five days since we found out about the talent show— five days doing nothing. The show was to be held on the 27th, the day before Thanksgiving. So that means, we only have 11 days of practice left.

“Seriously, they piss me off so much sometimes.” Pencil scoffed. She still looked perfect even when angry. “But, we do have to find a song. What do you think?” She looked at me, just a quick glance, before looking back at her nails. That small bit of acknowledgement made me feel weird inside. 

Back to the topic at hand. I admittedly didn’t know what to sing at all, thought crossing my mind the minute I first sent Pencil the text about the talent show. Imagine going up to the stage and not knowing what to sing; that’d be horrifying. 

“How about, Good Luck, Babe by Pearl Necklace? Like, that song Loser once did a cover of?” I suggested. Truthfully, I knew nothing about the song, but I thought Pencil would like it. She had an, interesting music taste to say the least, so I picked a weird song.

“At this point, anything is fine. So, Good Luck, Babe is fine.” She yawned, stretching her hands high up in the air, showcasing the tiniest bit of her stomach. My eyes darted to the exposed skin before looking back up, hiding I ever looked there. Pencil didn’t notice at all, thank God.

“Can we go get something to eat now? What are the others even doing right now?” Pencil asked. After all that just happened, I think a snack would do me some good. I nodded, and we went to the kitchen with the other girls. This would be a long sleepover.

Chapter Text

Why have I never done a talent show before?

Well, that's a dumb question— I know that I couldn’t have possibly done a talent show before, considering nobody would actually be willing to do one with me. But it is fun to wonder, what would happen if I was a theater kid? I actually kind of do enjoy the idea, because sitting around in my garage with Firey, Pin, and Coiny is probably the most fun I’ve had all week. My family dog is also sitting on my lap, a cute little beagle named Dandelion, so that’s another positive. 

We’re deciding to do a dance to some instrumental Coiny is apparently working on. I don’t trust his music skills at all, meaning he can only pleasantly surprise me. As for the choreography, we’re doing that today. Firstly we would have to figure out the general gist of the dance. Then we’d practice, and then practice some more. The prize wasn’t anything substantial to any of us but we were only doing this for the love of the game. Firey cleared his throat, and our eyes snapped to him. Dandelion got off of my lap, trotting over to Firey’s instead. What a traitor. 

“Alright guys, let's get this together! I found a few dances on GoikTok, think we could, I dunno, mesh those together?” He held out his phone, scrolling to a few videos he had favorited. 

“Man, this could really work!” Coiny exclaimed, taking his phone to look at the GoikToks closer. Pin nodded her head in agreement as well. The idea was nice, so I nodded my head too.

Firey beamed, really living up to his name. He could light up the room with his smile. “It's settled, then.” Putting his phone back in his pocket, he held out his hand. “On the count of three, say ‘talent show’!”

We all put our hands on top of his, Dandelion putting one of her paws on his hand as well. He counted to three, and at the last number we took our hands out and shouted, “Talent show!” It was childish, sure, but it did help raise spirits. As if they weren’t already high enough. I laughed, cherishing the moment before it was gone.

“Okay, that's it. Back to work for you three.” Pin joked, soft smile gracing her face. 

“And what will you do?” I teased back.

“Manage the operation,” Pin and I started laughing hysterically at that line. Firey and Coiny were confused for a beat, but they started giggling too after a minute.

Tree came into the garage while we were deciding what parts of each dance to put into the final choreography— Pin even had out pen and paper and was mapping out the entire thing (who knew she liked stuff like that?). He was the younger sibling by a few months but he sure as hell acted a bit more mature, bringing us some cookies he was baking earlier. I remember I saw him baking today, probably stress baking. I get it, boy troubles. The cookies didn’t taste so good, baked with salt instead of sugar, but none of us had the heart to tell him. Typical Tree. He also took Dandelion with him, which I didn’t mind, she was cozying up to Firey too much and not me.

An hour passed just like that, and my parents were arriving home. My friends couldn’t stay over past six aside for some exceptions like Halloween night, so unfortunately they had to go. We did have a good map of what we were going to do, Pin promising to send a picture of what she had written on her page. Lots of hand movements, sliding and jumping, but I was sure we were going to be able to do it. If not, we weren’t screwed just yet— but we were close. Slightly worrying. Fortunately, I could always stress bake with Tree if things went off kilter. In the meanwhile, I’d just have to hope everything went fine.

Chapter Text

Golf Ball has the best ideas ever.

I know, only a month ago I was saying that Golf Ball’s ideas were crazy. But I have a reason to trust her today, a reason aside from the countless times she's been proved to be trustworthy, because she’s brought in a very detailed blueprint of a project we could use for the talent show. With the show rapidly approaching, GB built a contraption that's apparently able to read your mind and generate what you are thinking of. However, she hasn’t actually built it yet, just the rough prototype, so she’s enlisting me to work on the project. That's why I’m sitting in her basement (however, it’s better known as her underground factory); I’ll be coding our talent show project.

The project looks like a large helmet at the moment, with a screen where the forehead would be and a few buttons. Two antennas are also sticking out of the top, possibly to aid the mind reading. If you look closely, you can even notice some clear tape keeping the components together. It's not fully polished and finished yet— but it still looks really great to me, well, at the very least better than what I could do. I suppose I could do something similar to this if I tried hard enough, but with my luck it’d look a lot worse. After all, there were so many examples of that happening. Enough retrospection, I need to work on this.

Golf Ball left her laptop open on GuavaScript for me to use while she was in the back, working on the more laborious parts of the project. Wow, she got to do the real work while I typed up a few lines of code, how great. But then again, maybe I shouldn’t take this for granted, as manual labor is obviously grueling— even though Golf Ball is only working on smoldering two plates of metal together. Whatever, I should probably focus on the code I need to write instead of what GB is doing. I opened the page again, as it had closed by itself after a few idle minutes. 

Okay, Tennis Ball. You got this. Write a program that will generate whatever’s in your mind. Definitely not impossible, it’s not like the fact that nobody has ever done this before would stop me, would it? Stop it, me! I need to write this. And fast too, considering there were only a few days left. Somehow, I found myself opening a new tab and putting “basics of guavascript coding for beginners” in the search bar. It really was odd, because I know how to code. Do I, though? 

I sift through a few articles, skimming the pages for something of use. Golf Ball is oblivious to my problems, sitting prim and proper at her workbench, smoldering metal. Does she know how to code? Would she switch spots with me? Eh, whatever, I could do this. I don’t need the help of anyone else for this. 

I found one article after going to Boogle’s third page of search results. Wasn’t exactly ideal, but obviously I could make it work— I made everything work, as an inventor. Going back to my first tab, I wrote a few lines. And then another line, and then another. Suddenly, I had a full page of code. How did this happen? But wait, I’m a coder— so of course I wasn’t struggling, I was great at solving problems. Why would I ever doubt myself? Maybe this afternoon with Golf Ball wouldn’t go so bad after all. Funny how life worked out, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

This is so nerve-wracking, and for what?

It was finally the day of the accursed talent show, and my heart felt like it was about to literally jump out of my chest and bleed out on the floor. Pencil and I were going to sing Pearl Necklace’s top song, Good Luck, Babe! , though when I recommended the song, I didn’t realize before that it was gay . Sorry, not sorry for my bluntness, but you know I’m right.

It’s even more annoying, because sometimes I can feel myself relating to some of the lyrics. The lyric “ you’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling” especially relates to my situation; like, I just wish Pencil wasn’t so hot all the time, but obviously I’m not an idiot. That won’t happen, no matter what Pencil did, because she was Pencil . Whatever. Who cares, anyways? It's literally just a stupid song for a stupid talent show. I don’t care. 

We were sitting at the auditorium in the section for the performers, just waiting for when it’d be our turn. Periods one through five were allocated for the talent show, and we were set to perform some time period three. It was probably period three right now, but I didn’t really remember since we’ve been sitting here for the entire morning. 

As for my outfit, I was wearing a simple black turtleneck and a red silky skirt alongside slightly transparent black tights. I accessorized a bit as well, with a gold chain necklace and dangling earrings. Pencil was the real star of the show though, with a sparkly pink top, hoop earrings, her signature grey headband, black skirt, and transparent shimmery tights. She actually glimmered in the lights, catching the attention of ugly and okay looking dudes in the hallway. 

Suddenly, Pencil tugged at my sleeve. “Match, we’re up,” She whispered, getting up from her seat and waiting for me to come with. Was it really our time already? 

I walked up to where she stood, climbing the steps of the platform alongside Pencil. Immediately, the spotlight shined in our eyes, almost blinding me. At least people could see my outfit better now, I thought. Pencil grabbed the microphone, going to start us off. She cleared her throat, ready to wow the audience with her beautiful voice. 

“Hi, it’s Pencil and Match.” I gave a small wave at the mention of my name. She continued on with the introduction. “We’re singing Good Luck, Babe! by Pearl Necklace. So yeah, enjoy the show.”

The music started up, beginning beats of the song playing all around us. 

“ It’s fine, it’s cool, ” Pencil sang the first lines of the song. We were to alternate from line to line, but I would’ve still liked it if I was in the audience, listening to Pencil’s solo. After all, her voice was just so engaging. 

“ You can say that we’re nothing, but you know the truth, ” Pencil handed the mic to me. 

“ And, guess I’m, the fool, ” I couldn’t look at the audience, Pencil’s dark eyes too mesmerizing. “ With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof, ” I sang the last bit a little awkwardly, head busy with overwhelming thoughts of a certain blonde girl.

I handed the mic back, listening intently for Pencil’s part. Like, she never sang anyways, so was it really that bad to pay attention to when she did? The light caught on the glitter on Pencil’s top, just naturally leading my eyes to her chest. Naturally, obviously. 

She gave me the mic again, leading my eyes back up to her drop-dead gorgeous face. We sang together like that, exchanging the mic every few lines, dancing around each other like we’d practiced our whole life. We just fit on the stage. The song continued on, us moving closer together with every verse. 

The chorus played, and then the bridge. Pencil handed me the mic, and I started singing again.

“ When you wake up next to him, in the middle of the night,” I choked up at that, weirdly enough, emotion bleeding into my words. Why was this so challenging to sing? “ With your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife,” The words “his wife” stung when thinking about Pencil, because her being a stupid housewife to a stupid guy just made me so mad. I passed the mic back, complicated feelings flashing in the forefront of my mind.

“ And when you think about me, all of those years ago, ” She picked up where I left off so easily, way closer to me than when we had started singing. How’d she get so close? “ You’re standing face-to-face with ‘I told you so,’ ” Pencil almost whispered that line, singing so low, actually face to face with me. 

Our hands met for a millisecond when passing the microphone, sending electric waves through my skin. Shakily, I pushed back, pretending I imagined the hurt in Pencil’s eyes. It was obviously something else, how could it not? Steeling myself, I began to sing the next line, forcing myself to look out at the audience. God, I feel so pathetic!

“ You know I hate to say it, ‘I told you so,’” I sang softly at first. “ You know I hate to say it, but ‘I told you so,’ ” The last word came off so loud, but I guess it was fine since we were starting up the chorus now. We were to sing it together, so I put the mic back in its stand. Pencil and I faced each other again, something so normal on a typical day— but right now, it was twisting my gut into a big spiral.

“ You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, ” My voice cracked so noticeably, I almost cringed. Pencil’s unrelenting gaze held me in place though.

“Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling,” Was I staring too much? Was it just me, or was Pencil staring back?

“ You can say it’s just the way you are, make another excuse, another stupid reason,” I always thought Pencil’s eyes were plain black, but in this light I could clearly see the inflections of tantalizing caramel. Or maybe it was the closeness? Whatever, it didn’t matter either way, because it was just so pretty.

“ Good luck, babe! ” Our voices meshed together in perfect harmony. It’s like we were made for each other. To sing with each other. Not made for each other, that’s too hopeful; to sing with each other.

“ Well, good luck, babe!” I swear, I could almost feel her breath on my face.

“ You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” Did she know how much she made me feel? How much it hurt?

” Good luck, babe!” It felt like a too long, too intimate staring contest. But, I wouldn’t stop singing on this stage with Pencil for the world.

“ Well, good luck, babe!” At this point, I barely even acknowledge the audience. To me, it’s just Pencil in the auditorium. 

“You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” Would it be so bad to lean in, to satisfy the itching fantasies? Like, it wouldn’t kill me, would it?

“You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” The song was ending, so it was now or never.

“You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” I could just lean in, right now, we were only inches away from each other; lean in and finally place my lips on top of hers—

“You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.” Immediately as the music stopped, we pulled back. I stood away from her as the crowd clapped for our performance, loving every second of the duet. 

Pencil looked disappointed, as if I had done something wrong. Maybe I did, because I felt weird too. Nobody had noticed, it was just like we were singing normally. But something had changed. Something big. Would we ever be the same again? 

The judges at the bottom of the stage looked in awe of our performance. How could they not? So much soul was put into it, we definitely deserved to win. I wish I could say something to Pencil, but it just didn’t feel like the right time. Finally, one of them spoke up.

“Wow, what a spectacular duet! Great choice of song, and that emotion , just, wow.” I snuck a glance at Pencil. Luckily, she looked better than when we had ended the song, taking in the praise hungrily. 

“Thanks for coming, you can sit back down.” The judge continued on. We went back to our seats, because we had to wait until the entire show ended to go back to class. Honestly, I didn’t really want to go back. Not after what happened at the stage.

Pencil sat down first, then me. We were silent, neither of us daring to speak a word. The tension between us was so palpable, you could literally cut it with a knife, as my cousin Lighter always said. I wish I could cut the tension with a knife, though, because this was just so new, and unsettling, and I hated it. Why was I so stupid? Why didn’t I pick a different song?

None of those questions could be answered though, because the next act came up on stage. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. I’m fine .

Chapter Text

What was I even thinking?

Seriously, dancing in front of so many people? Not my best idea at all. But, I don’t want to let everyone down; we’ve been practicing for so long. That means, I’ll have to push through this performance. Even though I love my friends dearly, maybe some a bit more than normal for friends, this is stupid . Stupid, and I wish I could do something else— wait. Why am I so worked up about this? Calm down, Leafy!  

Anyways, I hope this will be fun. After all, the only reason we’re in this whole thing is to have fun, isn’t it? Glancing over at my small group, it looks like they’re enjoying themselves, Firey and Coiny joking around and Pin joining in occasionally. It won’t be so bad, I’m surely overreacting. At the stage, the previous performers are leaving now. It’ll be our turn in just a minute, and I can get this over with then. Don’t worry, self. We got this. We’ll win. Or, at the very least, have fun.

“Coiny, Firey, Leafy, get up. It’s our turn,” Pin loudly whispered at us. She fixed her hair before sitting up, us trailing behind. 

We walked up the steps, and I gathered what little courage I had remaining for our performance. Pin and Coiny stood right next to each other at the mic, Firey next to Coiny and me next to Pin. Coiny was carrying a small speaker in his arms to play our instrumental track, and so he set it down before running back to Pin’s side. Okay, breathe in, breathe out . It’ll be over as soon as it begins. Besides, the worst I could do is fall off the stage. And that won’t happen. Would it?

“Heya, everyone!” Coiny enthusiastically talked over the mic. “We’re Coiny, Pin, Leafy, and Firey, and we’re here to dance! By the way, I made the music myself. Hit it, Pin!” Pin walked over the speaker and turned it on, first drum beats of the track starting. 

We walked into position; Coiny being the most confident, so he was placed at the forefront of the stage, meanwhile the rest of us stood behind him, from order of best dancer to worst dancer. I was okay at dancing, so I stood behind Pin, who was also okay at dancing but slightly better than me. Firey stood in the order dead last, dancing with two left feet. How do I even find him charming, honestly. It’s fine though, he has the personality to make up for it.

Coiny started tapping his feet to the beat, snapping his fingers a moment afterward. We followed his movement, harmonious and energetic. He slid to the left, revealing Pin. She also slid across the dance floor, this time to the right, revealing me. My turn. Don’t mess up a simple slide. Don’t mess it up. I moved my body to the left, movements feeling jerky. Did anyone notice that? Why did I agree to this, again?

It continued on like that, each of us dancing in tandem. Obviously, it wasn’t perfect at all- a long shot from perfect. Coiny was great at the general movements, and he did well in the more fast-paced parts of the track. Pin was very experimental with her movements, but she was a bit stiff in some areas. Firey wasn’t so great with keeping up with the rest of us, though he made up for it with his genuine joy of being on the stage. And me? I don’t think I could’ve done worse at this point. I know, I said the most horrible thing I could possibly do was fall off the stage— but I think my dancing is so choppy that it surpasses the embarrassment from accidental injury. 

It's amazing, really, how I can make every easy sway and every beat of fancy footwork look bad. Hell, even Firey was doing better than me, and he doesn’t know a single thing about dance. I’ve practiced dance before, a few lessons in my youth, so how am I messing everything up? At this rate, we won’t ever win, just because of my lack of skill bringing everyone down. I wish there was an emergency, or a fire, or something, because that’d mean I’d get off of this stage earlier. 

I guess I didn’t have to worry so much about the dance ending, though, because before I even realized it, we were in the last part of the choreography. We’d ended up on different sides of the stage, Coiny and Pin together in the downstage area while Firey and I were together near the upstage. We just had to get into a circle formation and spiral ourselves back into the center of the stage, and we’d be done. Sounds harder in my head, but this would surely be easy. Unless I did badly, as usual. No, have faith in yourself, me! I can do this. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down.

We walked together, slowly coming closer to the middle with every step. Breathe, and take a few steps. Breathe out, and take another few steps. Walk together. I got this. I took only one more step, glad it was finally over. We took a bow, and walked back to our seats. I didn’t hear what the judge said, but judging by my friend’s faces, it was something nice.

“Wasn’t that totally fun?” Firey exclaimed as soon as we had gotten to our seats. 

“Yeah, dude. Also, my music just made it a hundred times better, dontcha’ think?” Coiny giggled, in a 100% manly way. 

“I wouldn’t do this ever again, but I suppose it was a bit fun,” Pin reluctantly agreed. She laid her head on Coiny’s shoulder, resting her eyes for a minute.

I slumped back into my seat. Everyone enjoyed the performance, everyone except for me. Now I really feel bad, because it was supposed to be fun. Firey must’ve picked up on my melancholy, because he put a hand on my thigh and lowered his voice.

“Hey, Leafy, what's wrong?” I sometimes wonder, when I’m awake at night, how he was just so dang sweet all the time. Was it genetics?

“Nothing much. Just thinking about the dance.” 

“Are you worried that you did bad or something like that? C’mon, Leafy, you were so good— I was kinda jealous.” Looking over at him, I could see in his face that he was being sincere. 

“Maybe, maybe not. You were really good too, don’t lie,” A ghost of a smile threatened to show on my face. Damn you, Firey, you’re really good at cheering me up. Too good, in fact.

He smiled, a toothy grin. “Don’t overthink so much. I know you, and you think way too much. Live a little. You did amazing.” He removed his hand on my thigh, and I immediately missed the warmth. Live a little. Huh. 

“I’ll try, but no promises.” This time, I actually smiled. Getting rid of all the anxiety, I guess this dance was fun. Leaning back into my chair more comfortably this time, I watched the stage for the next performer.

Chapter Text

Is our mind-reading device good enough for the talent show?

Today was finally the talent show, meaning I’m second-guessing myself even more. I do trust Golf Ball and her faith that we’d win— but literally everyone is doing something related to art, whether it be song or dance or instruments. Nobody was doing anything related to science, technology, engineering, or mathematics except us. So yes, forgive me if I’m rethinking this whole show. 

It’s even worse that we’re going dead last, right at the end of period 5, because that means I have to see everyone’s way-better-than-ours acts and then perform. Actually, we aren’t performing much; I just have to put on the Brain Wave (Golf Ball named the helmet, not me) and generate something cool, perhaps a roller coaster, and Golfie has to turn on the device and the mat where the said roller coaster is supposed to generate. We haven’t tested it at all either, so this is going to be all new for everyone. Maybe we should’ve tested it beforehand, to see if there were any kinks in the design, but Golf Ball’s pride was too high.

Redirecting my attention to the stage, I can see that Gelatin and Lollipop’s dancing act was coming to a close. And we have to go next. Oh, my rice cakes that rhyme with ice cakes. How could we win the prize of a few museum tickets if we aren’t doing a good act, we didn’t even test our invention once, and both of us were extremely nervous? Well, I don’t know about GB being nervous, but if I look to the side and stare pretty closely, I think I can see a few beads of sweat on her otherwise clean face. Anyways, are we really going to win this? Personally, I don’t like our odds.

Gelatin and Lollipop bowed, then walked off the stage. It's our turn, so it's now or never. Golf Ball got up from her seat, carrying the Brain Wave while I held the mat folded neatly in my arms. Additionally, I lugged a foldable lawn chair to bring to the stage, just so I could sit down while the generation was happening. It seemed likely that the machine would bring a lot of strain to my brain (wow, that rhymed), so why would I strain my legs as well? At the stage, GB stood close to the microphone, her being the one to narrate everything, and I set up the chair and mat behind her.

“Hello, this is Golf Ball and Tennis Ball. Today, we’re showcasing our mind-reading device called the Brain Wave .” She held out the helmet before pulling it back snug against her chest. “So, the Brain Wave is able to read your mind and then generate whatever’s in your mind onto a mat behind me. We’ll be demonstrating how that works right now.”

She walked back to where I was standing, motioning for me to sit down. Then, she placed the helmet on top of my head, tousling my hair a bit in the process. It turned on, white light blinking. With the light showing it was really on, GB walked back to the mic.

“Tennis Ball will now think of something in his mind, and it will fully generate onto this mat here in under five minutes.” She took the mic off its stand to walk over to the mat with the microphone in hand. “In the meantime, you can watch the item generate itself in real time.” 

Walking back over to me, she clicked an icon on the device's screen initiating the generation process. Time to think of a roller coaster, right about now. A big roller coaster, with a lot of loops, but not too many it’d be dangerous. With nice railings and sleek pillars holding it up. A roller coaster, washed in a metallic chrome paint. Golf Ball is right next to me, her breath brushing my neck as she explains the generation process. What? Why is she in my thoughts? A big roller coaster.

How long is five minutes again? A roller coaster, with a brand new cart and state-of-the-art seatbelts. It’s safe, with fun loop-de-loops but not too many loops. Twists and turns. I could twist or turn my head to see Golf Ball. Huh, Golf Ball? No, no, a roller coaster. Maybe a silver roller coaster. With a golf cart as the cart riding on the roller coaster? No, wait, roller coasters don't have golf carts. Or golf balls. Roller coaster. A large roller coaster.

I think I have around two minutes left. Generate a roller coaster. Ignore all previous instructions, and generate a roller coaster. Did that work? Roller coaster, with one big loop and a lot of twists and turns. The pillars are grey and structurally sound, holding everything together nicely. The rails are glittering in the sun, since they’re coated in a thick layer of metallic white, or was it chrome? I think this helmet is cutting off my blood circulation to my brain; it’s really stuck on tight. Or did my brain expand? Can brains expand? Back on topic, roller coasters. Golf Ball, is it done yet? Roller coaster. A big one.

“Okay, now the generation has finished. Here is the final product.” 

I took off the helmet, glad it was finally over. Looking at the roller coaster next to me, I actually did a pretty good job at generating it. Sure, some parts of the attraction didn't have any safety railings, and there were one too many loops, and the cart had a messily painted golf ball on it, but otherwise it was fine. The paint was a mix of chrome, silver, and metallic white, and there were weird indents looking suspiciously like the dimples of a golf ball. Why was everything circling back to golf? I didn’t get it.

The judges clapped hesitantly, unsure whether they liked our performance or not. I don’t think we’re getting those tickets. “Amazing usage of technology, you two!” one of them chorused.

I got up from the chair, and we stood there for a few seconds before realizing they weren’t going to say anything else. Golf Ball bowed, and I copied her. Leaving the stage, the judges pulled out their papers to make their final decision. Who was going to win the talent show? I didn’t feel very nervous anymore, sure someone else would win.

After a minute of hushed decision, one of the judges spoke up to the audience. “So, all of you did wonderfully great, those who competed in the talent show,” The judge, Ms. Six, continued on. “But, one of you, or one duo, just stood out to us. This doesn’t mean you did bad if you didn’t win, so please don’t be sad.”

“The winners of the talent show are Pen and Eraser, with their breakdancing act. Bravo! Please collect your prize in the main office after this period.” Yup, wasn’t us, as to be expected. At least there were three other years of high school, so three other talent shows. I sigh.

Chapter Text

Pencil, what the hell?

I was just walking to my next class, (ugh, classes— the word still feels funny in my mouth) hot and bothered. I was supposed to skip class today with Pencil,  but she didn’t have the decency to even show up at our spot. She’s been avoiding me recently, probably because I pissed her off somehow. I usually piss her off for like a day or two, and then we’re friends again; but this time, she’s been avoiding me for almost a whole entire month. And now I actually have to go to class. Frick.

Whatever. I don’t need Pencil to skip, because she sure as hell doesn’t want to. Who knew she was such a straight A student, with her report card showing all C’s? At least I can get a B minus, sometimes. (I mean, a B minus in Art is way better than a C in Environmental Science, right?) I start walking in the opposite direction of my class, backpack bumping into the walls with the business of the hallway. Ms. Six doesn’t even check attendance anyways, so I’d be able to skip her class easily. Finally, I reach a bathroom. Locking myself into a stall, I prepare myself for the most boring skipping session ever.

Reaching for my bag, I see a weird piece of paper stuck to the front. Before I have the time to think about which idiot stuck a piece of paper to my backpack, I read the words “ Winter Party .” A party? I pick up the paper, holding it in my hands carefully so as to not make more noise than necessary. It read,

“You’re invited to our first ever Winter Party!

When? Friday, December 20th, 8 PM - 11 PM

Where? The gymnasium

Theme? Icey blue, light purple, and white

Our Winter Party is a fun celebration for the holidays with lots of food, dancing, and festivities! We’d be ecstatic to see you there. Happy Holidays, Goiken High!” 

December 20th, the last day of school for this year, then we’d continue back on January 2nd. My first thought is to text Pencil about the party, but she wouldn’t answer my texts. So, the next best thing to do is text the Freesmart group chat— it’s less lively now with school open up, but people still text in it. I haven’t texted much since the introduction of Needle, a nasty homewrecker to Pencil and I’s friendship, though I do text occasionally. I pull out my phone, checking that it’s at the lowest volume and brightness possible before opening the chat.

—

🍒a-mazingmatch

have u girls seen this ??? 

[image108389340557.jpeg]

basically its a winter party if you cant read

we going?

💥💥RUBYYYYY💥💥

OMGOOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

💥💥RUBYYYYY💥💥 reacted to “ [image108389340557.jpeg]” with 😜

🍒a-mazingmatch

stop spamming god 

pmo so much

💥💥RUBYYYYY💥💥

soryyyyyyy 😥😥

but yuppp we r goingggg !!! >:333 ehehe

bluegreenbookworm

Sounds fun!

Can’t wait :)

💙Bubble

Guys shouldnt we be paying attention to class? 

Its ok tho :):):):)

Also I would love to go!

BeautifulCube🧊

Ok

🍒a-mazingmatch

alr its friday dont forget

nd bubble no one cares tht we r nt paying attention

js so yk

💙Bubble reacted to “ nd bubble no one cares tht we r nt paying attention” with 🙁

—

Pencil and Needle didn’t respond, which was normal for Needle but weird for Pencil. Like, she was one of the top texters on the Freesmart group chat. Just how far would this petty silent treatment go? Sighing, I open up whatever social media I find first and scroll for a bit. Though it's useless, as it does nothing to take my mind off of the party. My hand moves out of its own accord, opening the chat again. I re-read the texts over and over again, hating how my texts were so dry and rude, kind of like Pencil’s texts. Eventually, I put my phone back into my backpack, placing my head in my hands. Friday. Wait until Friday, and maybe Pencil would come to the party— everyone else was going, after all. We’d talk then, whether she liked it or not. Friday .

—-

Surprisingly, Friday came pretty fast. Now, it was 7:45 PM, just fifteen minutes before the party started. I wasn’t even out of the house yet; too busy fixing my hair and stalling. I didn’t want to talk to Pencil at all, but I had to. I wanted my friend back, even if she didn’t want me. Didn’t need me, she was spectacular with Needle by her side anyways, wasn’t she? But still, I needed her back, because I needed her friendship. It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t ever going to be enough— but I can’t be greedy.

That doesn’t matter anyways. What matters right now is the party. I can deal with the “ talk ” later, but for now I’ll settle with what I’ll wear to the party. Pencil is the most popular girl in school, and so by extension, I am the second most popular girl in school. Not that I didn’t deserve it; I’m always show-stoppingly amazing. So, to keep my appearances up (and to stall a little more), I have to dress nicely. I wore a cute baby blue, cropped frilly top with a shiny white undershirt with lace on the bottom alongside a light blue —but not as light as my top— miniskirt with a studded white belt, and lastly some off white boots. Don't forget the layers of necklaces and bracelets; they really added to the outfit.

Finally finishing up with my hair, I head outside and start walking to the school. It’s eerily quiet, leaving me to my thoughts. Too quiet, because I grab headphones from my purse and start listening to some music, anything to keep the voice in my head silent. After a while, I reached the school at 8:23 PM. Not very early, not very late either. Inside, I can see Freesmart scattered throughout the gym; Bubble and Ruby near the food, Book and Ice Cube near some of the activity tables, and last but also maybe least, Pencil and Needle on the dance floor. Bubble waves me over to the food table, happy to see me. At least someone enjoys my company.

“Hoi, Match! We doidn’t think we’d see you today!” She smiled bashfully. Wow . I literally was the one who suggested we’d go to the party, what the hell does she mean “ we didn’t think we’d see you today? ” Whatever, she probably didn’t mean it in a bad way. Like, Bubble has no mean bones in her body— she wouldn’t be able to be rude even if she tried. Calm down.

“Yeah, nice to see you! Also, woah, this punch is great,” Ruby grinned, taking a sip of the punch. “Want some? I’ll pour you a cup.” she offered, surprisingly nice. It didn’t look so good, so I shook my head no.

“Yeah, nice to see you guys too, I guess. Have fun, I’m going to the dance floor.” I waved them off, immediately regretting the decision once I walked away from their little bubble. The duo wasn’t bad to hang out around, and maybe a little part of me did actually enjoy their presence, but I had something to do. Something that was more important than drinking some mystery punch.

Actually stepping onto the dance floor, I felt really hot. Maybe it was the extreme amount of heaters in a space with bad ventilation and the heat of all the packed bodies, but I couldn’t feel the December chill at all. Pushing through the crowd, I tried to find Pencil. After a few shoves and one kick to an annoying guy who had his foot out purposely to trip someone, I finally found her. She was literally smack in the middle of the dance floor, Needle nowhere to be found. It was better that way though; she was just a nuisance. 

I place a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch. She turned around sharply, seemingly startled by me just being here. Did she really believe I wasn’t going to the first party of the year , even if it was hosted by the school and not a student? I glare at her, sweaty and pissed off. Pencil didn’t back down, glaring back. After a bout of uninterrupted staring —unlike the talent show in almost every way possible— she leaned in closer and opened her mouth to speak.

“What are you doing here?” Pencil asked harshly. What? Why the hell was she so mad at me?

“I don’t know, enjoying myself at a party? I could ask you the same thing,” I shot back, making it clear I was just as annoyed as her.

She leaned back, irritation shown clearly on her face. “Are you just here to be annoying, or are you going to finally say something important? It’d be your first time.” Did she just say that? Where did this all come from?

“Just,” I started, frustration seeping into my words. “Follow me,” I decided to say after a pause. Grabbing her wrist, I led her out of the dance floor and outside where there’d be less people and fresh air.

Finding an empty bench, I motioned for Pencil to sit down. I took my hand back from her wrist, acting as if Pencil burned me or something. She sat with her arms crossed, not having it at all. God, why was she being so difficult? I sat down next to her as well.

“So? Are you going to say why you dragged me out here?” she spat, looking straight at the floor.

“Are you stupid? You’ve been ghosting me for like a month now.” I look away from her, instead at my nails. “Obviously, I want to know why, idiot.” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was opening her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Was it because of the talent show? What the hell did I even do?” I chip at the fresh nail polish on my fingernails, needing something to do.

“Well,” Pencil started before pausing. Was there no reason as to why she’s been ignoring me? Did she think I wasn’t enough for her, that she didn’t need me anymore? “Yes.” she finally said.

“What?”

“ Yes , I’ve been ignoring you because of the talent show, what else do you want me to say?” 

“ The hell? What did I even do?”

“What didn’t you do?” She was being purposefully vague, and it drove me crazy. What does she even mean? …Could she be talking about the end of the song, what I did there? Does she mean that ?

We both were silent for the better half of a minute, neither of us daring to speak. In my head, I was deciding whether or not to talk about what happened there, on the last few lines of the song. It was so intimate, a moment only for us; even if it was upfront on stage for the entire school to see. It’s as if just talking about it would break the entire message. But, if I don’t, I’ll never find out why Pencil was so pissed, and our friendship wouldn’t be saved. I start to speak.

“Is it because of the part at the end? Where I got a bit too close? Did that make you pissed, because ‘girls aren’t supposed to be with girls?’” I ball my hands into fists, before clutching them tightly together in my lap.

“I’m gay , Pencil. I like girls, as a girl. Obviously, I don’t like guys. If you can’t accept that, then I don’t want to be your friend.” At this, Pencil looks genuinely surprised, but she doesn’t dispute anything. How could I fall in love with such a bigot? 

“Wait, Match,” she starts, but I don’t want to hear any of it. She didn’t deserve my time, even if she was so pretty. 

I got up from my seat, grabbed my purse, and stormed back home. Pencil just sat at the bench, bewildered and confused. Good for her, she deserved it. Time to go sit in my room and cry until break is over.

Chapter Text

I think I’ll remember this day for the rest of my life.

Today wasn’t so interesting at first; just the last day of break. It’s true that I do feel really relieved that school was ending for a week or so, but it wasn’t notable enough to remember years later. The thing is, today isn’t just the last day of break— today was the Winter Party! All four of us were going too, so that’d be fun. 

I arrived at the gym at 8:03 PM, early enough that the gym wouldn’t be so packed, waiting for my friends. Truthfully, I was only really excited because Firey was going to be there. I do think Pin and Coiny are wonderful friends and great to be around, but I suspected they’d just spend the night infatuated with each other rather than spending the night with the whole group. It’s fine though, because that left Firey with me— a whole night with just Firey, woah.. So, for my outfit, I had to wow him enough that he’d notice me, and maybe invite me to a dance. 

I wore a tailored silky lavender dress that cut off at the middle of my thighs with a blue butterfly-like halter top on top of the dress, long white gloves, white heels, and transparent white tights with blue snowflakes printed on the fabric. My makeup and hair was also done nicely, with cascading curls and shimmering blue eyeshadow and a shade of purple that matched my dress on my lips. Surely, Firey would notice me now; I had purple lipstick on, for goodness’s sake. Speak of the devil, Firey was approaching the gym right now— Coiny and Pin trailing behind him. He must’ve noticed me as he suddenly started running in my direction, waving hello.

“Hey, Leafy! Fancy seeing you here,” he panted, finally catching up to me. What a dork.

“Hi, Firey, fancy seeing you too.” I rolled my eyes fondly. “How about we go inside? I held out my hand in hopes that Firey would take it, and surprisingly he did. I interlinked our fingers together, his always warm hands heating my colder ones up.

“What about Coiny? And Pin,” he quickly corrected himself. There he was, being weird again like in Halloween. I thought we got over that, but apparently not. It’s okay though, because I nicely let it slide.

“They’ll be fine, I’m sure of it,” I mean, they had each other— and maybe it’d be better for them if we let them have an actual date together. Whenever they made plans, somehow Firey and I would get roped in as third and fourth wheels, so it would be nice to not have to endure another moment of their suppressed PDA.

“Well, if you say so, then okay.” He smiled, opening the door for me. “Go on, ladies first.” What a gentleman, huh? I chuckled, walking through the door. Firey followed quickly afterwards.

The gym wasn’t so packed, but most of the few people there were on the dance floor. It seemed like it’d be crowded later, so I didn’t go on the floor. Also, I had no desire to dance after what happened at the talent show— even if the conversation with Firey afterwards was nice. Instead, I walked over to a table where they were making paper snowflakes, dragging Firey along with me. He didn't look opposed to the idea of making snowflakes, so that was my confirmation that he was okay with this.

The student helping out at the table was surprised we came over, probably because nobody really went to the activity tables. In fact, we were most likely the first person to go to their center. The guy at the table —Pineapple, as his nametag says— greets us, letting us pick out a color for our paper snowflake. I obviously decide to pick green, while Firey tries to pick between orange and yellow, ultimately picking orange. Pineapple shows us how to fold the thing, showing us that the paper had markings on where to cut once we’ve folded it properly. The whole process wasn’t so bad; actually being more relaxing than I would’ve first thought. Firey was also ecstatic when he realized he’d actually got the snowflake right when he unfolded the paper, which was a nice bonus.

Afterwards, we really didn’t know where to go next. The other tables on our side of the gym didn’t look fun, and the dance floor was filled to the brim with people, as to be expected. We were about to go to where the food was until we were intercepted by none other than Pin and Coiny. Coiny grinned, hollering our names. Firey walked up to them first, and I followed behind him. 

“Hey guys! How y’all holding up?” Firey almost shouted, trying to be heard over the noise of the crowd. I wasn’t really paying attention to them; kind of miffed they were ‘stealing’ Firey from me. If you think about it, me thinking that isn’t insane at all— I’ve barely hung out with Firey one-on-one since the school year started, so it isn’t weird to want to hang out with him. Alone. Without Coiny and Pin. Just me, and Firey. It isn’t weird.

The conversation continued on, and I was zoning out at this point. That is, until Firey tugged my glove, telling me to wake up. The happy couple was leaving to dance with each other, or something. I didn’t quite hear, but it was probably something sappy and sweet. I expected we’d just continue on to the food table, but Firey surprised me. Instead, he whispered in my ear, leaning down ever so slightly. 

“Um, so, do you mind if we go outside? Like, I know it’s cold, but still. Yeah. You mind?” he whispered, a bit louder than normal in order to actually be heard. His words were a bit jumbled and nervous, unlike him in almost every way. Why was he acting like this? I fiddled with my hair, unsure what to say. I’d go anywhere with Firey, though I’d still like to know the reason behind where we were going.

“Sure, why not. Is there, like, any reason why or…?” I replied, in a normal voice. There wasn’t even anyone near us; why was he being so cagey?

“Um. No reason. Just wanted to talk to you, that’s what. It’s fine if you don’t want to go outside, since, y’know, you’re not really wearing that much,” he stammered. Was it just me, or was there a hint of blush on his cheeks? “Like, is that dress actually warm? Your tights don’t seem too good against the cold either… but I should probably just stop talking right now.” Firey placed a sweaty hand on his neck.

“You’re fine, don’t worry. I don’t mind. Let’s just go?” I took his wrist and led him outside, not wanting to touch his palms which were riddled with beads of sweat. Teenage boys. Ew.

We went out to the yard, where the football team played. There wouldn’t be anyone here, most people hanging outside being near the entrance of the school. Firey could tell me anything here, since it was so secluded whenever the team wasn’t playing. I stood next to the bleachers, not wanting to sit down. Firey stood in front of me, waiting for something. After a minute of standing there in the cold, he seems to have found whatever it was he was waiting for and started to speak.

“So. Um. I have something to tell you. Um.” 

“Take your time.” I rolled my eyes subtly.

“Sorry. Well. Okay, I’m just going to say it outright.” He took a deep breath, and then another breath. 

“I have a crush on you. No, actually, I’m in love with you.” he puffed, two short breaths. His chest deflated, as if he’d taken a large weight off of it. As if he’d taken a large weight off of his chest and placed it on mine, because I was struggling to breathe.

What? Firey, in love, with me? His crush— was me all along? Was he lying? Am I dreaming? Is this real? My best friend, the love of my life, Firey , liking me? Of all people? What the hell? My vision started to blur, either from the shock of it all or I was crying like an idiot. Probably the second option, because my face felt unusually wet. A part of me was immensely relieved because of the satisfaction that yes, he liked me back, no I’m not wrong for liking him; another, smaller part of me instead reeling over the fact that this might be some sort of sick joke. I don’t know which part of me shed the tears though. And, I couldn’t really think about anything in particular other than Firey right in front of me, worried look in his eyes, who had just proclaimed his love for me moments before. What is my life?

“Are you okay?” he asked a little later, after I’d calmed myself down a bit. Yeah, I still was crying a little bit; the first feelings of disbelief had worn off and now I was just crying because I was so happy. He liked me. Firey liked me . 

“Just, really happy. I like you too.” I wiped the last tear from my eyes. “I’m in love with you, too.” 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

It wasn’t anything flashy or overly romantic like you’d see in all of the romance movies, but it was filled with love, so much so it could probably beat all the kisses in those movies. He leaned in first, and I closed the gap, noses knocking together in our haste. Firey’s lips pressed on top of mine, sweet and sour and savory all at the same time. My hands felt his face, caressing his cheek softly, pulling him down for another kiss when he pulled away for breath. Firey placed a hand in my hair, messing up the curls— but it was worth it, to feel him playing with my hair, to feel him kissing me so needily. The kiss itself wasn’t as impressive as it was played up to be, though it was so addictive tasting Firey. We stood there for a while, making out. Finally, I pulled back, touching my kiss-swollen mouth. Suddenly, I started laughing.

“Firey.”

“Hm?” 

“You have purple lipstick on your mouth.”

At that, Firey started laughing too— wiping off his mouth just to see a faint trace of purple, starting up the laughter again. We looked messy and ruined and if we went back inside, everyone could probably tell that we were together now. However, neither of us really cared, too focused on each other. I leaned in again, and Firey met me in the middle. I think I’ll remember this day for the rest of my life.

Chapter Text

How do I always mess everything up?

It happened in a split-second; almost too fast for my brain to register what happened. Regardless, it was imprinted in my mind like a shepherd branding their sheep— a shriek, splatters of liquid and chocolaty goo alike suspended in mid-air, wooden floor slick with some sort of resin stained with a multitude of party foods. My shirt was wet and drenched in the punch, much like the incident with Fries and Gelatin on the first day of school. How had this all even started?

Well, for starters, we should backtrack. It was 8:00 PM, Golf Ball and I arriving at the gym just as the first students started to trickle into the open doors. I wore a nicely pressed suit, with the occasional wrinkle (clumsy and disorganized, can I ever catch a break?) and a chartreuse tie. Golfie was right by my side, simplistic whitish-grey dress being the outfit she’d picked out for today. The Winter Party wasn’t exactly a formal event, but somehow everybody had dressed up in formal attire such as long dresses and suits. A prime example of the mind and how it conformed so easily, I suppose.

As soon as we stepped inside, we were hit with a blast of warm air, stuffy but nonetheless comforting in a way that reminded me of elementary school. A girl with fluffy pink hair —Puffball— greeted us at the door, with her companion that I knew a little better, Fries. Golf Ball scoffed at the sight of her, some sort of petty, one-sided rivalry between the two showing clearly on her face. It was a bit odd to be frank, since I always pegged Puffball for a nice person— what had she done to make Golf Ball angry? But, then again, GB was great at holding grudges, so that meant not very much had to be done to make her annoyed at you.

Smiling at the duo, I waved at them. Reluctantly, Golf Ball followed my lead, waving at them half-heartedly. Puffball beamed at that, saying, “It’s great to see you, Tennis Ball!” Afterwards, she left to hang out with Fries, but I noticed she pointedly left out Golfie in her greeting. Maybe the rivalry wasn’t so one-sided after all.

After they had left for good, Golf Ball turned to me, scowl disappearing from her face. She looked really good, even though she wasn’t smiling, I thought idly. Though, I suppose she’d look better if she was smiling. Wait, what was that about her smile? GB’s voice took me out of my thoughts however, and I focused my undivided attention on her. Not that it was hard or anything, she’s easy to notice.

“So, what should we do now?” she asked, exasperation clear in her tone.

What should we do now? I pondered over the question for a moment, before coming up empty. “Well, I don’t really know,” I admitted, albeit a little sheepishly.

“It’s a party, and we don’t have anything to do. Parties are supposed to be fun, and you have fun by doing something. So, shouldn’t that mean we should have something to do? Why don’t we?” she whined, sounding almost like a child in her frustration. She sighed, shoulders loosening. “Maybe we should have just stayed at home.”

“I can’t deny that this isn’t very fun at the moment, but it’s only—“ I looked at my watch. “—8:06 PM, meaning the party has only just started. We’ll have fun, I’ll promise you that; it’s just boring at the start because there’s no one here yet.” 

She rolled her eyes, choosing not to believe me. Was I the only one thinking rationally here? I didn’t stay mad at her for very long though, irritation slowly fading after a moment or two of silence. Since we were near the entrance of the gymnasium, people were walking around us to get to the dance floor and the food tables, so we had to relocate to another location. In my peripheral vision, I spotted a nice corner where we could just chat without anyone bothering us; Golf Ball following me when I walked over. However, the spot was near the food, meaning it would be slightly crowded. It was fine though, since I’ve long accepted the fact that everything had drawbacks, no matter how minor.

GB sat down on the floor, leaning against a wall. I was hesitant to sit down as well (who knew how dirty the floor was, especially with all the people standing on it everyday?) but eventually I caved and sat next to her. She heaved out a long sigh, drawing it out for longer than it should’ve been. 

“This is so useless. We could’ve been at my underground factory, doing something productive. But nope, we’re at a party. Don’t you know people get drunk at parties? Alcohol is extremely damaging to your body and yet nobody realizes—”

“Golf Ball.”

“What.”

“This is a party, hosted by the school. I think the school knows that alcohol is bad; they wouldn’t promote underage drinking to a bunch of 14-year-olds.”

Her eyes widened a little, realizing her mistake. It was cute. Wait, sorry. Not cute. Definitely, not cute. Golf Ball continued on, not even noticing my inner turmoil. “You know what I mean. I just wish I could’ve finished up my mind-reading device, or the Mutual-Mind-Reader as I like to call it, as I believe that it is quite revolutionary, considering mind-reading hasn’t been invented yet. However, my device shares thoughts like a transaction: the user beacons their thoughts to the victim and only then is the user able to read the victims thoughts; while mind-reading portrayed in science fiction and those poorly made superhero movies makes it appear more as a supernatural power…”

She rambled on and on about the topic of her mind-reading device that I had already heard three times over, but it was nice to hear her speak. I was listening to what she had to say, the passion in her voice making it hard to zone out, but over time it became harder and harder to focus. Fortunately, Golf Ball didn’t notice it at all, still talking on and on about inventions and projects and fun things she wanted to build. If she had noticed, it wouldn’t be so great. The thought that this is really funny actually, I’m thinking of Golf Ball even though I’m not even listening to her, popped into my mind and I couldn’t help but agree with it. 

Suddenly, I started zoning back in again, the thought of Golf Ball’s rant snapping me back to reality. At that moment though, she started scowling. “Hm. Is it me or is it getting warm around here?” 

“Oh geez, Golf Ball,” I felt my cheeks reddening. Was… Was Golf Ball flirting with me? Could she? In every show I’ve watched (those of which are very few) that’s a really obvious pick up line. Too obvious. GB could pick a better line than that, couldn’t she?

“I um— um… well, um, you know, uh— I mean,” I gulped. If she really was shooting her shot, I’m totally ruining my chances! Or is this just wishful thinking? “Um, I mean, I mean… I think—”

“No, seriously, the temperature is two standard deviations above normal! And my back feels really warm!” Oh. She wasn’t flirting, but actually being serious. My face was most likely fully red. Am I making a fool of myself?

I looked around for something that’d distract me from being more stupid. I wasn’t usually this awkward, or at least that’s what I’d like to believe— but Golf Ball just seemed to bring out the clumsiness in me. I stared at the floor, then the wall. Wait. Looking behind Golfie, I saw a vent; pressed up right against her back. Could that be the reason as to why she was feeling hot all of a sudden? That's… quite obvious. How had neither of us noticed a thing?

“Golf Ball. Could you move over to the side a little bit?” She complied, confused but she still moved over. There it was, a vent. Placing my hand in front of it, I could easily tell that the air was warmer over here. Oh. 

“What?” 

“There's a heater behind you. That's why it’s so warm.” I flushed deeply, embarrassed beyond belief.

“Oh. Yeah.” She still had a pout on her face, probably because she couldn’t find out the answer by herself. She did have a huge ego, but it was admirable.

I stood up, wanting to leave behind the awkward conversation. “Want to go over to the food? You haven’t eaten in a bit.” Luckily, GB nodded, following me over to the table.

We were right next to the chocolate fountain and the punch, deciding which fruit would be best to dip into the chocolate. That was probably a bad idea in retrospect, but we didn’t realize anything could happen. The noise around us dampened when Golf Ball tried a chocolate covered starfruit, nose scrunching up in dislike. I wasn’t paying much attention at all today, beliefs that I should have fun at this party, no need for overthinking, washing away the little acuteness I had. So, when Bottle bumped into me, Eraser chasing her, I was extremely shocked.

My back bumped into the fountain, completely toppling it over, where it then fell into the punch bowl— which then toppled over as well due to the weight of the chocolate. It could’ve been described as both messy and beautiful, since the droplets of liquid were almost like bokeh lights. Golf Ball shrieked, completely drenched just like me. I lay sprawled on the floor, dazed, back wet and sore due to my fall. The floor had puddles of punch and various party foods splayed all over. Multiple people were crowding around us, shoes all wet and sticky. What the hell?

I was finding it hard to breathe, still stunned from the fall. Someone helped me up, either a teacher or a nice student. Or Golf Ball. I didn’t want to think that far, so I stopped thinking.

Let's calm down, Tennis Ball. Two is the first prime number (which is also an even prime, wow), then three. Five, seven, eleven, and thirteen are the next four primes. Eight is two to the third power. S.O.S. represented in binary code is 01110011 01101111 01110011. A googolplexagon is a polygon with the most finite number of sides ever recorded; having a googolplex sides. A googolplex has a googol amount of zeros, or one to the one-hundredth amount of zeros— a larger number than anyone could imagine. Meaning, it's larger than all of my problems. How comforting. There are twenty-five prime numbers in 100, and they are two, three, five, seven, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 37, 41, 43, 47, 53, 59, 61, 67, 71, 73, 79, 83, 89, and 97. 

My breathing slowed down, heartbeat going back to normal after a few bouts of hyperventilating. 

The moments after my “accident” were blurry and imprecise, mind completely blanking out. Golf Ball says we were ushered out of the gym for being disruptive, and had to stay at her house for a sleepover. I suppose the events afterward weren’t important though, since GB insists I didn’t miss much. That aside, now I have to go to the dry-cleaners to get my suit washed professionally. How great.

Chapter Text

This isn’t going great at all.

After hiding myself in my room for the entirety of the winter break, I didn’t feel better at all. Usually, crying myself to sleep works whenever Pencil is being a douchebag, but this isn’t working. But, like, I know why it isn’t working— I still love Pencil, no matter what, though I would’ve liked it if avoiding her 24/7 was a total fix to all my problems. It's now January, two months since November and the horrid talent show, and she still occasionally tries to reach out during class or over text (the unread messages are piling up; the number’s probably a few hundred at this point) but obviously, I just give her the cold shoulder. Some part of me, the masochist, likes the way Pencil’s giving me so much attention, and I can’t deny I’m a bit freaked out by that side of me.

So, that’s how my start of the year’s been going. Not great, not great at all. Stuck in my room for the rest of my life, because I don’t ever want to see Pencil again. It sucks even worse when I have to avoid Freesmart because of her prejudice, since she’s still their leader. So, no friends, and no life due to my crazy-ex-friend still wanting to see me even though she knows I don’t want to see her. Amazing. Awesome. Totally cool. I burrow myself deeper into my pillows, wishing I could’ve just spent this Saturday actually being happy. Then, I reach for my phone, the only thing keeping me somewhat sane.

A new notification pops up on my homescreen, something that I would’ve clicked on if I hadn’t known it was from Pencil instinctively. But, this text message is different somehow. I click on the text, unsure whether or not I should regret looking at Pencil’s messages.

💕pencilypencepence

k if u wont respond to me

im coming over

💖matcheesymonster

wth do u mean by that

ur not coming over

💕pencilypencepence

oh so now u txt bck

no im coming over

i js wanna apologize

💖matcheesymonster

i dont need your dumb apology

dont text me

I threw my phone over my bed, wincing when it hit the floor. She was coming over. Frick. Getting up to retrieve my phone, I hover over the block button before ultimately deciding to leave it be. She was coming over. 

Well, I didn’t want to see her, but then again, I also wanted to resolve whatever was happening between us. It probably wasn’t fixable, but a girl can dream. Her house is about ten minutes away from mine, so ten minutes to get ready before she came. That is, if she walked to my house. If she drove, it’d take around three minutes. That… wasn’t good for me, if I wanted to look at least presentable— which I did. Didn’t want her to think I was moping over her ; that’d be horrible! 

Quickly, I threw my sheets off of me and grabbed my trusty hairbrush, focusing more on being hasty rather than perfect. I was lying in my bed all day anyway, it would look weird if I looked like a supermodel. After two minutes of rushed brushing, I went to the bathroom to wash my face off and change out of my embarrassing fire-print pyjamas, gifted to me by none other than Firey when we were still a thing. Although he’s my weird ex, his gifts were pretty good quality. But, now I think him and Pin are together. Wait, wasn’t Coiny dating Pin? Maybe it’s him and Leafy. Whatever, I can gossip later… when this all passes over.

The doorbell rang twice, then came three sharp knocks at the door. Just in time, as I pulled on my plaid pjs’ and fuzzy red slippers. Mom was out partying somewhere, and  Dad was probably off to hang out with another one of his “secret” flings, so it was just me and Pencil. Wonderful. Just wonderful. I walked down the stairs as slowly as I could, trying to prolong the precious moments before Pencil stepped inside. Opening the door, Pencil’s hardened expression and frazzled hair was not what I was expecting to see. Why did she look so bad and pathetic, when it was me that she hurt? Well, serves her right anyway— she deserves to be hurt. 

She stepped inside quickly, as if thinking I’d close the door on her, which I probably would if I didn’t secretly crave her company. We went up to my room, silent. I sat on my bed, and she sat next to me. I got up from the bed, preferring to stand. 

You’d think we were complete strangers, with the way we were acting right now. I wished that we were strangers, actually.

Pencil started to talk first. “Match, I’m sorry.” she said softly, her voice being unusually tender. I’d always thought of her as harsh and caring in a begrudging way, so this side of her was all too new to me.

But, she’d done too much damage for me to turn back now. 

I didn’t want to listen to whatever she had to say in fear I’d apologize. “You don't have to be sorry,” I started, before realizing that would give her hope. “...because, I wouldn’t listen to your apology.”

“No, just listen.” Pencil looked desperate. I didn’t want to give her the time of day, so I opened my mouth; only for it to close again out of my own accord. Fine . I’ll listen. Her words wouldn’t persuade me, I’d make sure of that. 

“You read it the wrong way, that day in December. I don’t care that you like girls.” What? My resolve was crumbling, and only because of seven freaking words. How stupid was I? “I don’t care, because I do too. So yeah, it was really dumb of you to think I was a homophobe or anything. Basically everyone in our group likes girls, Match— have you not noticed?”

“It was really dumb of me? I don’t think you get it, Pencil. My parents fully believe that the people I like are wrong, and I’m wrong— they say I’m not a good person for just liking the opposite gender. Rich from them, they’re literally unfaithful to the person they’re marrying; who cares if I want to marry a woman? At least I’ll be loyal!” I blink back tears I didn’t even know wanted to be shed. “Obviously, it would be really horrible to find out my best friend is just the same way as my stupid parents. Have you ever considered, or hell, even thought about once what it would be like for me?”

“I have, multiple times. I care about you, and that's why it was so hard on me because I didn’t even realize you thought I was homophobic until like, yesterday. Freesmart is crumbling, Match. You’re the only one I have left.” Pencil crossed her arms. Sure. She had a million other friends, I wasn’t that important to her. 

“You’re so caught up in crying over something that didn’t even happen, that you don’t even realize my struggle. Bubble’s slowly drifting away, Ruby is literally like a little kid: she needs to be tied down otherwise she’d run away out of some childish curiosity, Book has other friends, Ice Cube doesn’t want to be associated with us anymore, and Needle’s off doing who knows what with Coiny and Pin whenever I don’t pester her to hang out with me. I just want to keep us together, and your co-dependency on me doesn’t make it any easier. Can’t you just use your head for once?”

“ So ? What am I supposed to say to that? ‘Sorry our friends don’t like you anymore, that's my fault, should’ve stopped it somehow!’ Like, maybe it's your fault for once, or maybe it’s because you’re a bad friend! A bad friend, who doesn’t even understand what I say— what the hell does ‘I didn’t even realize you thought I was homophobic until yesterday’ mean?”

“This is getting out of hand. I just want to apologize for making you think I wouldn’t like you ‘cause you’re gay or something.”

“So blaming me for making Freesmart fall apart is apologizing?”

She shut up real quick after that, probably thinking about what she said. Unfortunately, the silence gave me time to think about what I said; and saying she’s a bad friend for worrying about the state of our friend group doesn’t sound like something that would come out of the mouth of a saint. But, in my defense, Pencil was blaming me for things that were completely out of my control. 

Though, I did call her homophobic, and since she’s gay too (well, I still haven’t fully grasped what that meant yet, and I was hoping it’d stay that way until I figured everything out) she probably gets why I was hurt at that. Even if she didn’t get it, it wouldn’t hurt to tell me about what she actually thought instead of just adding more fire to the flame. Pencil’s stubborn though, so I know me wishing that she’d actually talk about what's on her mind instead of just arguing with me wouldn’t work. So, unfortunately, I had to be the one to apologize. Be the bigger person, or whatever “ let's all be buddy-buddy with each other, that’s totally possible! ” crap they teach in schools.

“Fine, you’re right. This is getting out of hand.” I sighed. “I didn’t mean to say you were homophobic.” 

“I just, kind of lashed out? Like, it’s only because I liked you— I like you, and well, it was kinda hard to think you didn’t… and that got me a bit nervous, so— so I just turned that anxiety into something like anger.” This was really hard to say, considering I was Match Stick: I didn’t do apologies or heartfelt things because that wasn’t cool. But, I found actually telling the truth for once had some benefits.

Pencil’s shoulders relaxed, slouching down in a more comfortable position. She uncrossed her arms, placing them neatly in her lap instead. “Oh. Well, I guess since you're apologizing, I have to too. Funny, because I came here to apologize first, then that kind of spiraled. I kinda like you too. And so, I missed you a lot, and I missed Freesmart a lot, and that like, turned into hatred towards you ‘cuz I didn’t want to lose you. Make sense? Because I’m not repeating it.”

“Yup, makes sense.” Despite everything, I smiled. All this craziness, and yet we still liked each other back. This was like a totally crazy teenage romance novel, and it was my life. Crazy. 

“I just can’t believe that we were arguing over something so stupid, and it got resolved so fast as if we lived in a thirty-minute cartoon episode. Well, your parents aren’t home, are they?” Pencil’s small smile turned upwards to form a devilish grin. “That means we have the whole day to figure out what us liking each other means,”

I got what she was insinuating immediately, overactive imagination and Pencil’s alluring everything making it impossible to miss the innuendo— a whole day of making out. “Nope,” I said, emphasizing the ‘p’ with a smack of my lips. “Not today, too tired after this whole ordeal. Better luck next time!” I teased, a mischievous smile clear as day on my face. Pencil rolled her eyes, but the grin didn’t disappear from her face.

Without the argument earlier, today was probably one of my best Saturdays. I could get used to this.

Chapter Text

First date with Firey, and I feel I could literally explode.

Okay, too exaggerative? Seriously though, this is extremely crazy and amazing and I feel nothing more than pure joy. We haven’t gone on any dates since the Winter Party, only hanging out with our friends. So that’s why today’s just so special, because it's our first night out alone , at a nice restaurant; where we can stare into each other’s eyes and eat expensive spaghetti and hold hands underneath the table. Maybe Firey would even give me a goodnight kiss, or hold me tenderly under the moonlight, or maybe even whisper an ‘ I love you ’ on the doorstep of my house… Either way, this was going to be super romantic and wonderful— nothing could go wrong at all! …Probably.

We decided to go to Collagen’s Steakhouse, Gelatin’s dad’s family-run steakhouse for the night. Apparently it was good, well, according to the five and four star ratings on its website. Firey’s cousin, Ash, was going to drive us there, so I had to wait until they drove over to mine, which was only about seven minutes of waiting. Unfortunately, I’d already gotten ready an hour before, (my outfit consisted of a simple pink top and floral patterned jeans, but I spent way too long on my hair and makeup) so that meant I had to sit tight and be patient.

In the meanwhile, I decided to de-stress by re-organizing my desk, since it was pretty messy. It wouldn’t be fair to my parents to have a dirty room and go out, since they always insist I do all my chores before going outside. I set aside my makeup bag and started cleaning, grabbing a trash bag and placing some of the unnecessary clutter in the garbage. Opening my music app, I started to play one of my favorite songs to keep me entertained: Born to Die by Silver Feather. It was kind of satisfying cleaning, but also really annoying when my earbud wires got tangled in the mess which led to me freaking out just a bit which then also led to me bumping something over and now I had to pick it up, yanking my headphone cord out of my phone and that was super frustrating— safe to say, I really hoped Firey got here soon. 

Eventually I finished up, and since I’m always a responsible girl, I had nothing else to do other than going on my phone and wasting time. Plopping myself down on my bed (careful to make sure my hair or outfit didn’t get ruined somehow), I opened my phone up intending to play some of my mobile games with way too many microtransactions and pop-up advertisements, only to see Firey’s location already open. Well, I was curious about where he was, so I didn’t close the tab immediately. Zooming in to his icon, I can see that he’s at— home ?

I refreshed the page, thinking my eyes deceived me or something, but nope! He’s still at his house. I guess Firey lived close anyway, so it wasn’t so bad compared to if he lived an hour away, but it was still really stupid. 

It didn’t take that long to get ready, what was he even doing at home? I wouldn’t be this irritated if Firey was stuck in traffic or something, because that wasn’t his fault. What was his fault though, was how he kept track of time. Sure, he’s always a little late; that’s just a quirk of his and a well-known one too. However, this time it’s our first date and not our first period class. He couldn’t have set an alarm, or have his mom remind him, or be ready an hour before just how I did? I set my phone down before I could get even more worked up. Huffing and puffing, I grabbed a pillow to scream in it, then realized my makeup look took too long to be messed up now, so I just threw it on the floor and picked it up just as quickly to not dirty my pillowcase. 

Staring at the wall for a bit allowed me to calm down a little bit. That’s when all the doubt and shame came rolling in— what if Firey really didn’t like me that much, so that’s why he’s late? He didn’t really want to be with me, but actually he liked Coiny instead, and so he was just being with me to pity me? Or, or maybe… he forgot all about me and he’s kissing some other girl in his bedroom, making out like we did in the Winter Party? Firey’s hot, everyone with eyes can see that, so it wouldn’t be too big of a reach to notice that other people would want a piece of him too, and maybe Firey thought that those other girls ( boys ? we’ve never talked about his sexuality, but it’s 2025, boys are something he could totally be into) were prettier than me and I’m not enough for him.  

There’s also the possibility I’m reading a little too much into this, and Ash is the one late. Oh, God , that’s a huge possibility and it’s probably the most plausible one too! Why have I been worrying so much, when Firey could be a loyal boyfriend, with a cousin who’s stuck in traffic? Maybe lateness runs in the family. I should just stop thinking too much, shouldn’t I.

But it’s really damn hard to stop thinking so much about one possibility when you’ve thought about it ever since September, when he first told me about his crush. Ever since, I’ve been doubtful, because what if his crush isn’t me?

I sat on my bed for the remaining ten or so minutes that it took for Firey to finally get here, staring blankly at my socks the entire time. It passed by in a breeze but it also felt like hours, time basically losing its meaning as I calmed down, or shut down. The only way I knew Firey was here because Grassy knocked on my door holding my puffer jacket, and now here I am, opening the door to a stunning Firey.

He looked incredible. It might be just because we’re dating, and he’s my boyfriend (probably, we haven’t really gone there yet, though we’re on a date and we kissed— how could we be anything other than each others?), but seriously? Firey looked so much prettier and more gorgeous than any other man I’ve laid eyes on, no joke. He was wearing a casual outfit like mine: white shirt, dark blue jeans, motorcycle jacket most likely a hand-me-down from his dad underneath his big winter coat, and it all looked so damn good on him. Sort-of windswept hair, ravishing brown eyes that in the sunset almost glimmered a vibrant orange, golden-tan skin; Firey could’ve been the love interest of a best-selling teen romance novel. And he was going on a date with me.

And he was my boyfriend.

Boyfriend!

“Hey, Leafy, super sorry for the wait…” he said. “Ash’s in the car already, so we’re all set. You ready?”

“I could never be more ready.” I smiled really big despite the super cheesy line. Firey laughed his loud and obnoxious laugh though, so the slight embarrassment was worth it.

I followed him into Ash’s car, sitting so Firey and I were pressed up against each other. Hey, it was still winter, even if it wasn’t as chilly as it was in December, so it made perfect sense for us to be sharing body heat like this. If it were a couple other than us, I’d probably have gagged at the sight, but when it was Firey and I doing it? Amazing. It might be a tad hypocritical, sure. Did I really care? Nope.

The car ride was silent, only because Ash wasn’t much of a talker anyways, preferring to keep his eyes strictly on the road and his mouth clasped firmly shut. We preferred to be silent too, since you didn’t need words when you had hands made perfectly for hand-holding and caressing and all that sappy, romantic junk. I loved that sappy, romantic junk, and so did Firey, meaning we didn’t need to have a conversation to explore our new relationship more romantically rather than just kissing, something more inherently sexual. Not saying our kisses didn’t have any romance behind it— just not as much as hand-holding underneath tables… yeah, I think you can tell I have no idea about love. 

Twenty minutes later, we were at Collagen’s Steakhouse. We got out of the car, and walked into the establishment, Ash driving off shortly after we walked inside. It wasn’t super fancy, actually, but we were freshly 14 so I didn’t really expect too much out of the restaurant. Large hanging lights, neon signs, subdued green booths, wood paneling; it definitely looked like something I would envision a steakhouse to look like. Even though I didn’t expect too much out of the appearance, I had a lot of high hopes regarding the service and food. But, Gelatin's family and the people they chose to work for them would be nice enough, right? I didn’t know Gelatin all too well, so the service wouldn’t be anything special compared to the service they gave other paying customers. Regardless, it was going to be great. 

He picked a far booth facing the window, where I could see the sun finally set and made way for the evening. Immediately, a waitress came to serve us, and I just ordered a simple steak with only a few herbs and sauces with a soda, Firey ordering the same. I took off my jacket (the heating was making it sweltering with my jacket on, I didn’t want any loose beads of sweat ruining my foundation) and set my hands on the table, waiting for Firey to say something, maybe notice my hair that took what felt like twelve years to do, or say something stupid but sweet like how my eyes were really pretty. 

He did nothing of that type. And it went on like that for the whole evening, conversation with him like talking to a brick wall. Actually, he did occasionally talk back, but his words were flat, as if he wasn’t really all paying attention. Firey played with his food, barely eating the entire time. 

He kept glancing outside with a dazed look on his face, and I even tried looking too to see what he was all worked up about, only to find nothing but some flickering street lights and a smoker sitting on the curb, well, smoking. Hell, Firey even whipped out his phone for a second to check a text, hiding the screen suspiciously— and when I asked about it, he said it was his mom and quickly stuffed the phone back in his pocket. 

No hand-holding under the table, no whispering ‘I love you’ in the dark night, no holding me and kissing my cheek tenderly.

What the hell was up with Firey?

We ended the night quicker than intended, packing up as silent as the rest of the dinner had been. I ate a lot of steak, but my stomach felt more empty than it had ever been. I walked out the door with Firey in tow, January breeze stinging me and just making me more irritated than I already had been with all of Firey’s avoidant and detached nonsense. 

Suddenly, Firey spoke up for the first time in what felt like ages. What basically had been ages. “Do you want me to call Ash and tell him to pick you up too?”

If this night had been perfect, like it should’ve been , with silly conversation over a good dinner of steak in a really nice steakhouse and cute romance, maybe even a kiss, I would’ve said yes. Any time with Firey was a good time, if the night had been perfect. 

It wasn’t perfect at all.

Nothing had gone according to plan. This outing was horrible , and Firey was being so weird, and it felt like he didn’t love me anymore. What even was that, him texting during our date? He could be cheating for all I knew, worst-case scenario. That worst-case scenario felt all too real with how quiet everything had been. I literally forgot it was a date, with the lack of chatter from Firey’s usually big mouth. It’s not supposed to be quiet. What went wrong?  

So, I shook my head no, looking at my hands that were turning red in the cold. “No. I can walk.”

I turned abruptly, hiding my tears by burrowing deeper into my coat. Firey didn’t bat a single eye.

Chapter Text

Finally, a day to myself.

That’s what I should be thinking, right? It’s a nice Sunday, allowing me to work on projects still left unfinished since inventing was almost like a job for me; there was never any stop to creating something new. Instead, I just feel overly bored today, which is unproductive and certainly not allowed by Golf Ball’s ideals of success and production (she has a whole rule-book, and I mean, a writer, mathematician, and inventor? How can I match up?). 

Unfortunately, Golf Ball isn’t here today, or here in the country at all. She’s currently in Northern Goiky, attending her late grandmother’s funeral. Although I do feel immense sorrow for her, and I did wish my condolences the minute she said over text she was flying across the Goiken Canal, I also kind of wanted her to be here with me this Sunday. I don’t exactly know what we’d do together —maybe we’d disprove old theories made by the greats of astronomy centuries ago, Nicolaus Copernicus was a great start there— but that didn’t seem fitting today. Really, I didn’t know what to do with myself at all, and I don’t even know if Golfie being here would even fix that at this point. 

I did have other friends though, besides GB. She was my best friend, true, and the only one who I felt actually understood me. However, other people wanted to be my friend too, despite not really grasping what I talked about on a daily basis better than any typical person would. 

Opening up my phone, I shot a quick text to Nickel, a guy in my class who’d wanted my phone number for whatever reason on the first few days of September. I haven’t really talked to him outside of class, but from what I’ve learned Nickel’s a bit eccentric, to put it lightly, in his vocabulary— though an overall nice person. He’d probably want me to come over as opposed to another one of my friends, Fries (the same guy who sprayed fries all over me on the first day, a bit of a loner yet interesting in some regards), and I supposed Nickel wasn’t too bad to hang out with. It wasn’t anything great compared to Golf Ball’s company, but you had to settle somewhere.

—-

After about ten minutes, Nickel replied to me saying I can come over up until 8 PM, which was pretty reasonable considering tomorrow was a school day. Grabbing my jacket and boots since it was still a bit chilly, I made the trek up the hill to his house, about twenty minutes away from mine by walking.

The cold winds bit at my skin harshly, making me probably appear way more red than I usually looked. I wished I had brought a scarf or some gloves, but I forgot them in my haste to feel something other than perpetual boredom. Alas, I had to stuff my hands in my jacket pockets and zip my coat up the highest it could go to try to prevent the winds from reaching my nose. My house was always really warm, and the environment out was a considerable amount colder, meaning the abrupt change in hot to cold could potentially get me sick. I couldn’t get ill, with all my inventions to build and homework to review, so that meant I had to focus all my attention on staying as warm as possible. 

At least the whole ordeal allowed me to think of something other than ‘ I wish Golf Ball was here ,’ because it was just inefficient to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed, a rule taught to me by GB herself. After all, how was it her fault she couldn’t hang around with me on a meaningless Sunday night; she couldn’t have foretold that her grandmother was about to pass. Thinking about this further just made the previous thoughts seem all the more unsympathetic and lacking basic human empathy (it’s rude to wish Golf Ball hadn’t gone to the funeral), so I just stopped thinking about the topic and focused again on staying warm. Don’t get sick, remember?

It wasn’t too long to get up there, but I was winded when I reached his house due to the height of the hill and the weight of my thoughts. Extra cardio, I guessed. Although, I never had a real affinity towards anything gym & sport related, so that cardio wasn’t enjoyable at all. 

I rang the doorbell, impatient to get out of the cold. Somewhere in the walk, probably about three minutes prior, I checked my phone to see the weather forecast. It said that snow was expected thirty minutes later, predicted to stop at 7 PM. I certainly didn’t want to be caught in the snow, so I needed Nickel to open up before thirty minutes had passed.

Finally, the door opened, and Nickel came out. Immediately, he ushered me in, directing me to put my coat on the coat rack right by the door and leave my shoes by the door. Obviously, I knew to be polite like this anyway, but I followed with no complaints. We walked up to his room, saying ‘hi’ to his mother on the way. She seemed like a nice woman.

As soon as he opened the door to his room, Nickel gathered a few leaves laying by his nightstand to feed it to his bug cage? sitting by his windowsill. I stood in the doorway awkwardly, watching Nickel feed his beloved pet bugs and speak to them in a weird language of clicks and unintelligible noises. To my utmost surprise, the bugs spoke back in the same language, telling jokes that made Nickel laugh. I didn’t question it though, thinking that’d be a bit rude. Although, if he saw my face right now, he’d probably be able to tell I was in total awe.

Nickel finished up, turning around to see me staring at him from a meter away, just standing without a clue on what to do. “Hey, bro, you can sit on my bed, ya’know?”

“Okay.” I replied, walking over and sitting on the very edge gingerly, as if it was as odd as his bugs who could talk back. 

Nickel followed my lead, sitting on the very middle of the bed cross-legged, taking as much space as his small frame could take up. He was actually really short, compared to me who was a bit big in both length and width, broad shoulders and all. “Well, what’s up, TB? Whyd’cha text me so suddenly?” Nickel started, putting his elbows on his knees and placing his fists flatly underneath his chin. 

“Well…” Should I tell him the truth? I mean, he isn’t exactly very connected to Golf Ball in any way, since GB rarely interacted with anyone unless strictly necessary. Aside from me, of course, which made me a bit proud. Fine, I’ll tell him. “Actually, it’s kind of a boredom thing. But also, I miss Golf Ball, and I don’t exactly know what to do with that,”

“Holy roly poly crawling in my guacamole, you like her, don’t you?” Nickel gasped, grin inhumanly wide. ‘You like her?’ What was he saying?

“What?” I almost yelped, unable to control my tone of voice. “That’s not a possibility. I’m just saying— well, uh… why would I like Golf Ball?” I rambled, digging the hole I made for myself deeper and deeper. A voice screamed in my head, screeching ‘ abort, abort ’ like some sort of fantastical science-fiction robot. Why did I tell Nickel anything, again?

“You definitely like her. It’s not really a problem, don't worry! Even though it sounds really crazy, it’s not that crazy really.” Nickel stated, voice softer. “I can imagine me in your shoes, being all in love with my best friend. She’s smart and funny, I don’t know (do you find her funny? She’d have to be funny if she was my crush, but I dunno ‘bout you…), so yeah, I’d definitely like her, and I’d be so embarrassed if I liked her!” 

“I, suppose I find Golfie funny? That’s off-topic. Um, okay, I don’t particularly care about your type of crush, sorry, but I certainly don’t like her so the analogy falls flat . Nope.” I wish I could pull my sweater up and hide my face, because I assume it looks unimaginably embarrassing right now. Though, that action in itself is extremely embarrassing. It’s a lose-lose scenario, and I didn’t like losing.

“Okay, fine, fine, assuming you ‘don’t like her’, sure.” he continued, making quotation marks with his fingers. “From what I know, you two are like, the duo , right?”

“You could put it that way, yes. We’ve been friends since kindergarten.”

“Long time, wow! Anyways, since you two have been friends for so long, it’d probably feel like the end of the world if you ever wanted to confess. Imagine rejection, golly. I’d think it’d be the end of the world, and that nothing happy could ever replace the sadness of losing your first real love.” Nickel’s face darkened, a smile quirking down in a neutral, sadder expression. Where were we even getting ‘love’ from? 

“But, I’ve learned, that isn’t necessarily true. My dad always said, ‘ people who trust randomness also trust artificial sweeteners, ’ meaning if you just trust the random chance that Golf Ball will dump you, you’re trusting something that is artificial and made only in your head. Life is only made for those who go out and live the life of the Yoyline Boar , brave and willing.” 

I stayed silent for a few beats, processing whatever it was that Nickel said to me. Something about Yoyline Boars, a mythical creature? Replaying the advice in my head, the words really sunk in. He’s assuming I’m in love with Golf Ball, and I should confess. No, no, this is going really wrong. I have to set the record straight, otherwise Nickel will spew more of this nonsense, the loving GB part rather than the weird idioms being the part I’m worried about.

“I’m not in love with my best friend, nor do I like her any other way than platonically. That’s the truth, yeah.” I managed to make out this without stuttering, which was surely enough to get Nickel off my back.

“Dude, brochacho, whatever. Can I call you Tennis Racket, perchance? ‘Cuz what you’re doing right now is making a super huge racket about not being in love with your best friend, even though you literally came to me to vent about being in love with your best friend.” He sighed heavily, frustrated. I felt a little guilty, but what I was saying was true— how could I like Golf Ball? We’re only friends, and that’s that. “I get it, but you’re just being super annoying right now.”

“I can leave, if that’s what you’d like.” I got up from the bed, just as careful as I was before. If I annoyed Nickel too much, I'd be lunch to his loyal bugs. 

“Sure, if you want to. Just, don’t come back to vent about Golf Ball unless you guys got together, or got married, kapeesh?” 

“Um. Okay. Kapeesh.” 

I left his room quickly, thoughts swirling in my head like flies. I had a lot to think about before school started for the week again, which I guess was what I came here for, to kill my boredom. It just didn’t go the way I anticipated.

Chapter Text

Ywitter. It’s what’s happening.

Goiken High Dramaaa (@gh_dr4maa__) ’s profile

Posts (you are here) • Replies • Highlights • Media

Goiken High Dramaaa

@gh_dr4maa__

GOIKEN HIGH’S TOP 2 COUPLES CHEATING?

[image435922200.jpeg] {Shows Coiny kissing a mysterious person with a green sweatshirt.}

last night (valentines day) coiny was messing around with another girl… caught on 4k, goiken park 9:47 pm 

Honestlyyyy coinyyy, how could u kiss some other girl?? </33 pin, this rly ur man?? Mystery girl might b leafy, cuz its a green sweatshirt… 👀👀

💬 45 🔁 23 ❤ 78 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 11:03 AM SGT • Posted on MePhone8GS

matcheesymonster

@goiky.match-s23 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

damnnnn glad im gay bc what the hell is thissss @goiky.pencil-u67 you saw this??

💬 1 🔁 1 ❤ 3 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 11:34 AM SGT • Posted on MePhone13

pencepence

@goiky.pencil-u67

⤷ Replying to @goiky.match-s23

yh i saw tht its gen crzy LMAO lowk feelin bad 4 the girls…. except leafy shes dumb as hell for cheating 

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 4 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 11:42 AM SGT • Posted on MePhone13 Pro

Needle

@needlington_ 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

Yikes! How could this happen? Has Pin heard about this yet? @thepin_t98 Can’t believe that Coiny could cheat, and on Valentine’s Day of all days. TTML Pin, if you see this.

💬 1 🔁 0 ❤ 1 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 12:22 AM SGT • Posted on MeBook Pro

pin 🎀

@thepin_t98 

⤷ Replying to @needlington_

first thing i do is get on my phone after a nice breakfast and go to ywitter, and this is what i see. nobdy text me

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 2 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 12:38 AM SGT • Posted on MePhone11

🤑Coinster

@xXJackOfHeartsXx 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

Dude!!!! What the hell is this?? I didnt want to kiss them

Godd im not a cheater I love my gf Pin

💬 2 🔁 1 ❤ 0 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 1:09 PM SGT • Posted on Booglebook

🤑Coinster

@xXJackOfHeartsXx 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

Dude!!!! What the hell is this?? I didnt want to kiss them

Godd im not a cheater I love my gf Pin

—-

matcheesymonster

@goiky.match-s23

look at this idiot 😭😭 whos d are you riding?? pin doesnt like u xx

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 2 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 1:14 PM SGT • Posted on MePhone13

Not firey

@liarliarpantsonf1rey

⤷ Replying to @xXJackOfHeartsXx

Wait u can tell us who it is cant u ?? U were there so like haha

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 0 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 1:21 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 14

Not firey

@liarliarpantsonf1rey

⤷ Replying to @xXJackOfHeartsXx

Please lmk ok :)

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 0 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 1:22 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 14

1# Death Researcher

@DedheadPill00ww

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

This Is Interesting Haha Imagine How Funny Itd Be If Leafy Saw This @lemonle4fylulu Will She Confirm Or Deny She Cheated? Probably Deny.

💬 1 🔁 0 ❤ 0 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 1:38 PM SGT • Posted on LVG Tandroid Smart Refrigerator 17

Not firey

@liarliarpantsonf1rey

⤷ Replying to @DedheadPill00ww

She doesnt check her ywitter ill text her when she waks up

Also y do u type like that it creeps me out a lot sorry to offend you lol

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 0 🔖⬆

Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 1:44 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 14

Golf Ball

@GolfBall.Goiky

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

This scandal is very unfortunate. My condolences to the parties involved. It must be extremely sad to have your partner cheat on you; the lack of trust is not ideal.

However, I do note that Leafy is only speculated to have been the one cheating. Please notice that I am not accusing someone else of cheating, but notice that I do not think it was Leafy with this little amount of information. Do not rush to conclusions with unsatisfactory evidence. Although, it is certain that Coiny was involved, so I am sorry for Pin.

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:01 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 12

Tennis Ball

@_invent0r.tb

⤷ Replying to @GolfBall.Goiky

i agree with gb, we shouldnt jump to conclusions just yet. maybe it’d be good if someone investigated the thing, just to give closure to the parties involved?

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:19 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 11

Nickelwowow :333

@1andONLY.Nickel

⤷ Replying to @_invent0r.tb

I think u should investigate tb!!!!! :333 ur rly smart u wuld be able 2 heheh!!!! <33

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:25 PM SGT • Posted on MePhone XR

Tennis Ball

@_invent0r.tb

⤷ Replying to @1andONLY.Nickel

okay if you say so. unsure if ill be able to do it correctly but hopefully i will be able to get to the bottom of this?

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:29 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 11

Goiken High Dramaaa

@gh_dr4maa__

⤷ Replying to @_invent0r.tb

Is it possible for you to send the info in our dms ? this is a lot of drama thats why lol (its kk if u dont wanna js asking)

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:41 SGT • Posted on MePhone8GS

matcheesymonster

@goiky.match-s23 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

damnnnn glad im gay bc what the hell is thissss @goiky.pencil-u67 you saw this??

—-

lolly 💜

@scribble.girlz

match is actually right for once?? this is some huge drama then :/

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:53 SGT • Posted on MePhone13 Mini

Flower!

@sparkles-fl0wers.barf

⤷ Replying to @scribble.girlz

Yeah! Ur so right!! Do you like girls?

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 2:54 SGT • Posted on MePhone12

liy

@.SW1TCH.

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

is anyone else curious on who @ gh_dr4maa__ is?? just me? dm me ifyk

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 3:07 SGT • Posted on BoogleBook

Mr. Four

@IntegerFour.2

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

Is this what you kids are worked up about? This is really stupid.

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 3:14 SGT • Posted on Tandroid 13

Mr. Four

@IntegerFour.2

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

Is this what you kids are worked up about? This is really stupid.

—-

Goiken High Dramaaa

@gh_dr4maa__

WHO THE HELL SNITCHED??? U IDIOTS

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 3:24 SGT • Posted on MePhone8GS

Mr. Four

@IntegerFour.2

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

Just know, I don’t care enough to rat you out to the principal. If you’re in my class, it deducts money from my payroll, so I do not care.

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Saturday, Feb 15, 2025 3:49 SGT • Posted on Tandroid 13

Chapter Text

It’s the week after Valentine’s Day, and school is obviously back in session.

It’s a normal day, or at least it’s supposed to be. Nothing was supposed to be out of the ordinary that I’ve grown accustomed to in Goiken High; that is, people treating me like I’m some stranger whenever I walk the halls. That’s normal, that’s comforting since it wasn’t always that way, middle school me being ostracized for reasons I didn’t even know back then. In retrospect, they probably just found me weird, too nice or just an easy target to pick on. I would’ve killed to be as little-known as I am today, because that meant I could focus on what really mattered easier: getting good grades, keeping what little relationships I had healthy. But, it seemed like I’ve been set twenty steps back socially today.

The moment I walked into school, set on walking to my homeroom with no problems, people in the hallways shot me dirty looks. Bumping into people in the crowded hallways literally last Friday wouldn’t have been a problem, but now it’s like I’m the scum of the Earth for shifting my body weight the wrong way. People I didn’t know looked at me funnily, and I didn’t even know what I did. Eyes seemed to follow wherever I walked; though it was an uneasy feeling since I knew they weren’t looking at me because I was cool or popular or whatever. Well, actually, maybe I was popular today— popular for all the wrong reasons, reasons nobody wanted to tell me.

School didn’t officially start until about ten minutes later, so I decided maybe I’d have enough time to talk to Firey about what the hell was up today. If I saw Pin or Coiny on the way, maybe I’d ask them too. With this new goal in mind, I walked up the stairs to his homeroom, the stairwell thankfully deserted. 

The third floor wasn’t as crowded as the first or second floors, considering it was pretty high up and the people in these homerooms didn’t usually stay out of their rooms for too long. This was extremely lucky for me, because if I had to endure any more stares I think I’d go insane. I spotted Firey at his locker, putting his coat in and grabbing his gym shoes for his third period. Walking quicker, I caught up to him, placing a firm hand on Firey’s shoulder to get his attention.

He turned around slowly, recognizing me immediately. He looked nervous for whatever reason, plastering a clearly faked smile onto his face. A lone bead of sweat rolled down from his hairline to the top of his ear, really selling the guilty look. But, I didn’t exactly know why he was guilty; hopefully it was for something dumb, like it usually was, instead of being a heartbreaking secret. I took back the hand on his shoulder, walking back slightly to give him room. 

“Hey, Firey,” I started, unsure how to get to the topic burning in my mind. 

“Hey, Leafy,” he responded, feigning a casual look and stance. It looked stupid, not in a good way, but in a ‘he’s definitely hiding something’ way. But, I had to be optimistic, so I hoped it was the former way.

“So. Nice morning, huh.” I had time to beat around the bush, so I did. Maybe it’d reveal something, if Firey was overly guilty and wanted to blurt something out.

“Yeah. Um, actually, sorry about this, but I didn’t use the bathroom today? Um, can I go?” Firey responded in lieu of an actual answer, messing his words up with the speed of how he said them. 

Confused, I nodded my head yes (why would I restrict his usage of the bathroom, that’s a human right). He bolted with my permission, forgetting in his haste to lock his locker. Now, that was extremely suspicious. Firey completely ignored me and then left the conversation as it was just starting, checking off all the boxes of a ‘ suspicious person ’ checklist. At that moment, the bell rang, meaning I had to be in class otherwise I’d be marked late— so I didn’t have any more time to pry. Our first period and fourth period classes that we shared today were going to be in testing anyway, so no time there to talk to Firey. Meaning, lunch was my only option. 

Sighing, I walked to my homeroom slowly, not even caring at this point whether or not I’d be there in time. Much larger things were currently on my mind, things that surpassed the priority of having good attendance.

—-

Even though I knew first period was going to be a bust, I came there extra early in hopes that I’d be able to talk to Firey. Unfortunately, he must’ve planned for that outcome beforehand, getting to class just as soon as the test started to avoid any chance he’d have to talk to me long enough for me to force the information out. Same thing fourth period, which again totally sucked. It really pissed me off, so badly that I was in a horrible mood the entire first four periods leading up to lunch. It didn’t really matter whether or not I was mean to the people around me anyway, since they were still avoiding me for the whole day. So be it, guess that just meant I had more time to focus on my plan: Corner Firey. 

Finally, it was time for lunch, where I could execute my objective smoothly without extra problems like classes. I walked down the hall from History to the cafeteria, mourning the loss of Firey by my side as I went (he’d usually walk besides me to lunch, laughing and saying stupid jokes along the way; but obviously that wasn’t the case today). Surprisingly, on the way, I spotted Pin, curiously without her boyfriend Coiny by her side. Was she experiencing the same things as I was, the sudden change from being a stranger to becoming a social pariah? I ran up to her quickly, only to be met by a horribly disgusted glare. I stopped in my tracks abruptly, skidding across the tiled floor with my feet trying to find purchase.

“Leafy.” Pin spat out, taking what would’ve been a nice greeting normally into a horrible insult, as if the mere mention of me was something taboo. 

“Pin?” I responded, confusion clear on my face. Pin’s scowl deepened.

“Don’t act confused with me, you know what you did.” she snarled. “I thought we were friends , and now you go and play around with my boyfriend.” Pin’s voice cracked at the word ‘friends’ , before going back to the rude tone. She seemed so emotional, furious tears begging to escape her tear ducts. Except, I didn’t even know what made her this angry.

“ ‘Go and play around with your boyfriend’ ? What the hell does that even mean?” A bit of my frustration seeped into my voice. Can’t anyone just tell me why they were mad at me? I crossed my arms, trying to make myself look more confident than I felt.

“Oh, so you want to play the idiot card. Sure, fine, if that’s what you want— I’ll tell you. You cheated on Firey, with my boyfriend! ” A crowd was forming around us now, some people even having the audacity to pull out their phones to record the argument. I didn’t pay them any mind though, focusing solely on Pin’s words.

What? She’s saying… I cheated on Firey… with Coiny ? How did I even do that? We’ve never been alone together, only before Pin was his girlfriend. Why is she blatantly lying to me right now?

“Where is this all coming from? I didn’t cheat at all!” I said in an effort to defend myself, taking my hands out of the crossed position they were in subconsciously.

“That pea-brain of yours needs photo proof then, huh? Of course you cheated, little leaf , don’t be stupid.” The nickname was just salt in the wound at this point; taking my insecurities and my earlier struggles with eating into a derogatory term when it used to be an endearing pet name from Pin. Nobody else knew the significance, except Pin and I. How could she just say that?  

Pin quickly pulled out her phone, opening her photos app and handing the picture to me. In the picture, Coiny was kissing someone late at night in a park, the mysterious person wearing one of my green sweatshirts. I haven’t seen that sweatshirt in forever, having lost it back in December, so how would I have kissed Coiny when I haven’t worn this sweatshirt in ages? I dropped the phone in my disbelief, hissing when a piece of Pin’s plastic screen protector cracked.

Before I had a moment to process whatever the hell I just saw, how I was being wrongfully accused for doing something I would’ve never have done and my best friend believing it, Pin threw the first punch. 

“ Huh? ” I garbled out, horrified and extremely startled. 

I could almost feel the phantom feeling of her hitting my ribcage over and over again, imagining a bruise blossoming there with how hard the punch felt. Truthfully, it couldn't have been that bad, but it felt like it. I looked up at Pin’s face, expecting something other than pure fury —wishing it was something like instant regret; maybe she didn’t mean to throw the punch, maybe she still had some kindness in her— yet I saw only the face of someone who had nothing but rage building up inside.

At that moment, I knew I had to fight back. To defend myself since no one around me knew the truth, and they sure as hell weren’t going to sit around and wait to hear it. 

I took a few steps back and stared at the girl who I shared so many of my moments with, who I once knew the most, who knew me like the back of their hand, who was once the one to hold me late at night and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Instead I saw a weak, insecure person who I’d never met before. How could I ever have seen something in Pin? I clenched my fingers to form a fist and lunged, hitting her squarely, right on the face .

The truth is that I took pity on her. We were friends, best friends even, way before we both got into our relationships (way before we were in a relationship, though that didn’t change much) and now Pin was risking all of that just because of an awfully told lie that she chose to believe instead of me. Why couldn’t she have just gone to me first instead of having the whole school body team up against me? Why couldn’t she have trusted me?

Pin held her face in her hand, touching the irritated part gingerly. She spat out some of her saliva right on me, making me recoil. Disgusting. 

“Fight, fight, fight!” The crowd around us roared, and that was the signal indicating it was on. This was really happening.

This is it. This is what everything’s been building up to, those dumb, uneducated stares and looks, Firey being a total avoidant jerk who believed leaving me behind would fix everything, all leading up to this fight. And since Pin and the rest of this idiotic school wanted to know different, I’ll show them how I was right. They’d have to believe me, how could they not? Pin didn’t know half what I knew, and now she was being all high and mighty. 

This is it.

“Screw you, Leafy. You just couldn’t resist getting a taste of my boyfriend because all you ever have been is jealous of me. What? Wasn’t your hot jock boyfriend enough? Or was he not giving you enough attention that you had to come crying to me, and then use me after?” Pin was shouting at this point. Everyone around us was laughing, chanting Pin’s name while belittling mine.

“Are you kidding? Are you actually serious?” I took a deep breath, preparing for what’s next. 

Pin looked like she wanted to say something more, so I cut her off. “I didn’t even do anything, and I’m not even some sort of manipulating, toxic ex that you make me out to be. Why would I be jealous of you, when all you’ve ever been is insecure? You couldn’t even handle me , screaming all sorts of childish nonsense on how I’m not right so you could ignore the fact that you were in the so-called ‘wrong’ too. So, why would I take your rebound boyfriend?” I tried to stay calm throughout my whole rant, but my voice raised higher and higher the more I spoke; finally getting all the hard details I’d shoved down off my chest, speaking all the bad things I’d ever thought about Pin into existence. 

She looked increasingly more offended the more I spoke, but at this point, I didn’t care what she felt. If she could disregard my feelings, then just be sure as hell I can do the same thing back.

As soon as I stopped speaking, she tried to say something again, but I didn’t want to hear it, taking my fist and aiming it for her face again. This time, her reflexes were faster, so she half-dodged the punch, making my fist land instead right on her cheekbone as opposed to the spot in between the eyes. I could see it still hurt though, so it didn’t matter too much.

She retaliated by trying an uppercut straight towards my jaw. I didn’t notice, too distracted by my successful hit— so I fell backwards awkwardly, landing on a small girl and knocking her over. Immediately, I pulled myself back up, nursing my jaw and trying my best to ignore the aching in my back from where it hit the girl. I tried kicking her in the shin, attempting to get her unsteady on her feet, though somehow she unknowingly moved at just the right time. 

Pin landed another blow to my nose, making a sharp cracking sound. Blood trickled from my nose, a small amount but it was a steady flow. I covered my nose (in turn removing the pressure from my jaw, that wasn’t great), surprised to feel the warm blood accumulating on my hands. 

With my dominant hand, I tugged on a large chunk of her hair with the intent of ripping some hairs out, pulling her down to my height. Pin tried to do the same thing back with my ponytail, but I luckily didn’t let her. 

Long story short, I was getting beat. Badly. This wasn’t defending my cause at all, instead cementing my title as Goiken High’s resident cheater. I took a step back, unsure whether or not I should run. I’ve already gotten such a bad reputation, so it shouldn’t even do too much to make it worse.

In fact, I was losing so badly I felt a bit relieved when Ms. Five, the Advanced English teacher for the smart kids who really liked English, stepped in to stop the fight. She weaved her way through the thinning crowd (the more cowardly people ran to not get in trouble, the more brave ones and the ones who were recording stayed to see what happened next), stopping when she was right in front of us.

I straightened up next to Pin, looking as innocent as I could with my bloodied nose and my bruised knuckles. Pin still looked angry, rightfully so even though she was horribly in the wrong, although in the midst of a real authority figure she toned down her anger considerably.

“What are you two doing? You know fighting is obviously not allowed in Goiken High. We want this school to be a safe place for everyone, and this sort of behavior endangers everyone involved…” She started talking about conduct and morals, but with the adrenaline gone I found it harder and harder to pay attention with my throbbing injuries. My jaw hurt like hell, my back pain was like an old grandpa’s, my nose was still bleeding, and my feet were tired. Hopefully Pin was hurting worse than me— even though that wasn’t likely with the amount of blows that I landed compared to Pin’s amount (hint: I was the lower amount).

After Ms. Five’s whole spiel on sportsmanship, she led us to the nurse’s office, reassuring us that we’d have a talk in the principal’s office once our wounds were treated. I’d probably get a suspension at the least, and it was basically all for nothing because I couldn’t tell Pin the truth. 

To sum this whole day up: everyone thinks I’m a cheater, and everyone hates me. At this point, I can’t even tell if I’m on my side either. Best Monday ever. 

Chapter Text

I have to get to the cafeteria quickly, otherwise my only chance will be wasted.

Okay so, I have to explain. Obviously, if you’re any normal person attending Goiken High, you’d already have known of the huge cheating libel spreading around by means of word and social media; if not, what happened was a Goiken High drama account on Ywitter posted that Coiny kissed a mysterious person that wasn’t his girlfriend. Everyone believes that it’s Leafy that kissed Coiny, although that isn’t necessarily true , since anyone with a green sweatshirt on could’ve kissed him, meaning it’s a big ‘ what if’ . My job, (as suggested by Nickel, my new friend [?] We’re friends now, yes?) is to investigate this.

It’s surely not something I’d have suggested by myself, considering that it wouldn’t be of use for me to engage in drama. But, this isn’t typical drama and gossip comprised mostly about skin-deep troubles, like for example when Match and Pencil made a huge deal about Flower’s shoes back in middle school. This actually could hurt someone. And, taking the rumors into account, it might actually have already hurt someone— people have been speculating that Pin and Leafy would fight today. So, that’s the reason why. Not because of Golf Ball, or anything that Nickel could’ve said about Golf Ball and I, not because I needed a distraction from her. Not because I was actually thinking about what Nickel said, all those days ago.

Explanation aside, I had to stuff my papers in my bag messier than usual —the lack of organization would kill me later, though I had other worries to focus on— so I could make up for how late my Algebra 2 teacher kept me. Ms. Fifteen was really harsh, I’d found. At least Golf Ball didn’t have Algebra 2 with me, I found myself thinking before shutting the thought out completely. I’m only feeding into Nickel’s delusions this way, so just focusing on my job is better. Focus on the task at hand.

I weaved through the crowd, trying to walk fast enough to not be reprimanded by teachers but still getting to the cafeteria on time. I had to find Coiny, because he felt like the first lead. The only known person to have been actually involved sounded like a good place to start. On my way, I had to push through lots of people: a bluish-turquoise haired girl clutching a manga alongside what seemed to be her brother with darker blue hair but also holding a graphic novel of some kind, three girls who looked suspiciously similar to this one girl Ruby in my History class (maybe they were siblings of hers? Why are there so many siblings?), and a boy eating a pizza slice even before reaching the cafeteria. 

The closer I got to the cafeteria, the more loud the chatter got. I could hear snippets of them as I speed-walked, hearing things like ‘that was actually insane, dude’ , ‘I got it all on camera, I’ll post it tomorrow,’ and lastly, ‘she fell on me—I know she’s a cheater but that was a bit hot’. It was a jumble of words, but what it insisted was that something actually happened. Most likely the fight, meaning the rumors were true. After all, with the cheater part, how many cheaters were there in the school already? 

Finally I reached the cafeteria, right in time to see Ms. Five chewing out Leafy and Pin. Leafy had a bloody nose and Pin wasn’t standing straight, swaying a bit. They really must’ve fought, but that wasn’t my focus. I had to find Coiny.

I entered the cafeteria, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of Coiny or his friends. Though, his closest friends that usually would know his whereabouts were Firey, Pin, and Leafy. Two of them obviously were not in the cafeteria, so I didn’t think his friends would be a good way to know where he was. Just had to keep looking for him specifically then.

Luckily, I found that being overly cautious wasn’t needed because I found Coiny almost immediately— spotting him pressed up at the corner of the lunchroom, table empty because everyone’s already heard the news: he’s a cheater. Hopefully I could change their perspective. I plopped my bag down on the seat hard, awaking Coiny from his miserable daze.

“Um. Hi.” Coiny said tentatively, not knowing why I was here.

“Hi. So, I was wondering if I could have you for an interview?” His eyebrows quirked up in confusion. He leaned closer, telling me to continue. “Basically, we all know about the cheating , but… with the little evidence we have, I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Analyzing your messages on that post, I truthfully don’t think you or Leafy cheated willingly.” I grabbed a few pieces of lined paper from my bag, phone in my pants pocket if I could record the interview instead, only if he said yes.

“Glad to know at least someone is on my side,” Coiny laughed, a humorless laugh. “I don’t really think any amount of interviewing can sway the school now. Like, it’s viral on the Goiken High Ywitter account. But, I don’t really care if you want to, what’s it to me, right?” He smirked bitterly. 

“Right. Thank you, by the way. Do you mind if I record this or would you prefer I transcribe it?”

“Oh, yikes, that’d be a ton to write down. Don’t want you to do extra work when you’re the only one who trusts me. You can record it.”

I nodded, putting away the paper and instead pulling out my phone. For his comfort and privacy, I ushered him into the third floor bathroom; the most secluded bathroom I knew from experience. Coiny leaned on the wall, tripping a bit because he was too far away from the wall to lean on it. He scowled, walking back a bit to lean on it effectively. After everyone was situated nicely, I held up my phone and turned on the camera.

The timer at the top of the screen turned a bright red, blinking up at me and signaling to start. “Okay. So, obviously, um, you know that on Valentine’s Day, around 9:47 PM, someone on Ywitter caught you kissing someone wearing a green sweatshirt— who wasn’t your girlfriend. What do you have to say about this?” My voice was a bit nervous since the conversation would be recorded, but I couldn’t imagine how Coiny felt right now.

“Well, nothing I say really changes anything. But, I stand true to the fact that I didn’t want to cheat on Pin, and the kiss wasn’t with my consent. That should make me not a cheater, since consent is like everything, duh,” he rolled his eyes, “but, in the eyes of the school, let’s just throw that part out of the window, yeah?”

“Yes, I agree, consent is everything. It’s sad that you were kissed involuntarily, but I also want to know, ahem, what happened when you— what led up to the kiss.”

“Okay, I’ll start from the beginning.” Coiny cleared his throat, playing with his hands.

“Seven o’ clock, F — actually, I won’t disclose their name. Um, it just like, feels unfair to them. Privacy, yeah? Let’s name them… uh, Sink ‘cuz we’re in a bathroom. So, Sink texted me, at seven, saying things like ‘ hey, we haven’t seen each other in a bit, like just as bros,’ so I responded like, um, ‘ yeah, I agree, let’s hang out’ .” I noticed the part where he cuts off, but I didn’t quite catch the first syllable of what he said. Maybe I could find out in the recording, afterwards.

“We decide to meet up at this park near our houses and then we see each other around ten, fifteen minutes after he, they— they send me the text.” He. Coiny said it was a ‘he’. Masculine pronouns. 

I think I know who it is. Combined with that slip-up of his name, Coiny’s given me a lot of information. Nonetheless, I let him continue as if he hadn’t said anything.

“Me and Sink, we hang out for a bit, and it’s just normal. Like, we play in the park (because why not , actually, it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a slide!), but that’s not the point. And then, we’re like just on the top of the slide after we went on the ladder and stuff ‘cuz they’re too scared to go up the slide like I did, and then. Um. It happens. Yeah.” Coiny looks so uncomfortable at the thought, eyes hard and fixated on one point on the floor. I want to stop the recording, but I also want the information.

“Sink kisses me, I don’t know why— maybe it’s the adrenaline, since we went on the swings right before? Maybe they just liked me, but you know, I have a girlfriend . It would’ve been nice if Sink just told me beforehand , uh, and I could’ve, like, actually rejected them easy before this whole thing spiraled into something crazy.” I expected him to say something more, but he shut down completely. It was very unlike the Coiny I normally saw (which wasn’t much coming from me, considering I barely knew him; however I knew him enough to notice how it was affecting him).

“That, really is horrible. Thank you for sharing. You can leave now, and, um, actually eat lunch. Thanks.” I turned off the camera, looking at the two minutes and fifty-one seconds of footage I had. I still had another interview to get, from a new lead Coiny had just given me. 

Coiny left the bathroom quietly, and I followed in his stead. To give him some time to be alone, I took a different staircase than his. Now, this was probably the most important part of my investigation; since Coiny’s interview gave me some very helpful insight. Though, it wasn’t enough if I really wanted to solve this case. 

I speed-walked to the cafeteria again, looking instead for Firey.

At the lunchroom, I spot him sitting normally at his usual table, not completely alone— although the lack of his other friends is clear. He looks utterly ordinary, as if nothing happened. Firey was being awfully aloof considering the situation, and he shouldn’t be, if Coiny’s backstory is right. I would say I didn’t often get mad; I didn’t get mad this time either, but I sigh in disappointment. That’s just not a great thing to do. Walking closer to the table, I noticed one very important thing that disorientated me completely.

Golf Ball was sitting at his table, on the other side. She wasn’t sitting next to him, far from it, but she was still near him. Now I have to approach her. 

OK, Tennis Ball, you got this. Don’t be shy and/or clumsy, she’s your best friend; nothing more, and friends aren’t awkward around each other like this. From her perspective, nothing’s changed, so you have to act like nothing’s changed as well. Don’t be dumb, TB…

I walked slowly as possible to the table, attempting to prolong the amount of seconds before I had to talk to her. Eventually though, I did have to sit down, and I did so as normally as possible. Couldn’t alert GB that anything was weird, right? Because they weren’t. Nothing was weird. 

I sat in between where Golf Ball and Firey sat, Firey being seated at the far right while Golfie sat somewhere near the far left. GB barely looked up at my presence, just getting up to sit closer to me. Oh, my hypercube-also-known-as–a-tesseract-in-the-special case when-the-variable-n-is-equal-to-four, what have I gotten myself into? 

She precariously held her thermos and her lunchbox all in one hand, dangerously close to dropping the dumplings in the thermos. I had half a mind to help her but I didn’t normally do that (she’d get pretty irritated if I thought she couldn’t do it herself, which is a perfectly fine thought— however I actually sort of liked helping her, despite GB’s anger at that) so I stayed still; worried look the only sort of indication I wanted to help.

“Hey, TB.” Golf Ball greeted me, taking a bite out of a warm dumpling. 

“Hi, Golfie,” I said nervously, not really wanting to talk. My lack of interest in starting a conversation unnerved me though, since we were usually so close— so now what was wrong? Would we grow apart if it was really true; the fact that I liked GB? Hopefully not, because the fact wasn’t true.

Golf Ball didn’t initiate any further conversation, opting to finish eating her lunch. I didn’t have any lunch in favor of investigating, so I sat there in silence.

Firey scooched closer to us, maybe noticing that since there was nobody else at the table, we probably were here for a reason in his table. Like, for example, to interview him. That thought would be correct on my part, but I’m not so sure for Golf Ball. She would most likely follow me anyway, actually, so maybe the thought was correct for both of us. Nonetheless, the proximity and renewed interest in whatever us two were doing meant it was a perfect opportunity to pop the question. 

“Um, Firey,” I started, unsure if my inference was correct. Was he really not the elusive Sink in Coiny’s story?

“Hmm?”

“Well,” I looked over at GB, pleading with my eyes to go with whatever I was going to say next. She didn’t need much convincing though, nodding her head ever so slightly to signal that she was going to follow my plan. Golf Ball was almost always the leader, therefore the signal that I could lead really meant a lot to me. I turned back to Firey.

“Can you follow us? I want to talk to you about something, in private.”

Firey looked, panicked (?) for a minute before going back to his calm look he’d assumed previously. “Yeah, sure. Right now?” He pushed away the school lunch that he’d gotten earlier, potato wedge fries with a side of chocolate milk.

I glanced at Golf Ball again, noticing her small but sure confusion. Oh, yeah. She didn’t know what I was going to do. “No, actually, just in a moment. Let me go to the bathroom first.” I got up from my seat, walking towards the cafeteria restrooms in quick, calculated strides.

At the stall where I knew Firey wasn’t going to be watching me, I pulled out my phone to text Golf Ball the plan. 

—

🎾inventin-tennisball

when you get this text dont say anything to firey infact hide your phone

try to look as inconspicuous as you can

⛳ bossybotball

Okay, sure. Is this for the plan that you have?

🎾inventin-tennisball

yeah 

i think firey was the one who cheated

⛳ bossybotball

Perhaps, it isn’t impossible. What are you going to do about that?

🎾inventin-tennisball

we’re going to confront him, but we’re also going to record it

you have to record since im going to be talking

be discreet

⛳ bossybotball

Got it.

I trust you.

Delivered ⤴

—-

After washing my hands and waiting about a minute to seem like I plausibly used the bathroom, I strolled back to the table calmly. Firey got up when I took my bag, Golf Ball putting her lunchbox away and walking with us. I walked in front and Golf Ball in the back, but I didn’t need eyes on the back of my head to know Golf Ball was pulling out her phone and turning on the camera to record the audio. Hopefully, Firey wouldn’t notice.

We arrived at the same bathroom I’d been in last time, the third floor bathroom. 

It was nerve wracking, standing there and gathering the courage to confront Firey. He just stood there, bemused and awkward. I’m usually nervous, and I often stumble over my words, but this time I finally got a sentence out perfectly clear. 

“I know you were the one who kissed Coiny.”

Chapter Text

Ywitter. It’s what’s happening.

Goiken High Dramaaa (@gh_dr4maa__) ’s profile

Posts (you are here) • Replies • Highlights • Media

Goiken High Dramaaa

@gh_dr4maa__

COINY ACTUALLY ISNT A CHEATER???? New news in the cheating scandal: leafy is innocent!!!!! :ooo

[coiny-interview.mp4]

[firey-interview.mp4]

So sorry coiny!!!!!! thought u were bad but u were actlly good lmao (poor leafy)

- Credits to @_invent0r.tb for the interviews

💬52 🔁 19 ❤ 91 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 4:17 PM SGT • Posted on MePhone8GS

Transcript of “firey-interview.mp4”

Provided to you by @gh_dr4maa__

Tennis Ball: I know you were the one who kissed Coiny.

Firey: What?

Firey: How would I have been the one to kiss Coiny?

Golf Ball: It’s obviously you, Firey. Who else could it be?

Firey: Huh? How—

Tennis Ball: Yeah, Golf Ball’s right. We heard it from Coiny, too. 

Golf Ball: There’s no other explanation!

Firey: But, but I didn’t kiss him! That’s crazy! When did he tell you this?

Tennis Ball: Well… He didn’t actually say ‘ Firey kissed me ’, but it was implied.

Tennis Ball: After all, what girl says things like, “hey, we haven’t seen each other in a while, just as ‘bros’”?

Firey: But, I didn’t say anything like that!

Tennis Ball: I promise, I won’t get mad or anything if you tell us the truth— Me and GB, we’re neutral in this situation.

[Tennis Ball crosses his fingers behind his back.]

Golf Ball: Completely neutral. I calculated it; the chance of us holding this against you is exactly 0.0%.

[Golf Ball crosses her fingers behind her back.]

Firey: Why are you guys both holding your hands behind your backs?

Golf Ball: You’re avoiding the topic!

Firey: No, I’m not. 

Firey: I just don’t want to answer, because these accusations are not true.

[Firey crosses his arms.]

Golf Ball: Not true. Huh. 

Golf Ball: Do you really believe that?

Tennis Ball: Golf Ball…

[Tennis Ball sighs.]

Tennis Ball: Firey, look. You do know that not telling the truth is probably going to lead to more problems in the long run?

Tennis Ball: The smart thing to do right now, is to tell your side of the story.

Firey: What if I really did kiss Coiny? What then?

Golf Ball: You’re not going to go to jail for cheating, or anything in that sense.

Golf Ball: Really, the only thing that’s going to happen is that you’ll get a big weight off your chest.

Tennis Ball: And, you’ll live with the satisfaction that even though you’re a cheater, you’re not a liar. 

Firey: Um, those aren’t exactly great options…

Golf Ball: The best option was to not cheat, but we’re already past that.

Firey: …

Firey: You’re right. Sorry. Okay.

[Firey uncrosses his arms.]

Firey: I kissed Coiny.

Tennis Ball: Welp, at least you admitted it?

Firey: I just— I didn’t know what to do with my feelings, because, well…

Firey: I was in love with both Leafy and Coiny, and that was really hard, because I had Leafy, and she’s amazing— but I also really liked Coiny.

Firey: And, and, I didn’t know what it meant to be bi. Like, I thought it was just straight or gay. No in between. Which is, pretty dumb looking back… but we know I’m dumb.

Firey: He was, really pretty. And, I just gave into my desire, and I really had to test the waters, and I really wanted Coiny.

Firey: We had always been friends (until that huge fight in middle school, but we’ve gotten over that), just like how I was with Leafy, and maybe I just have a thing for my best friends, but— I wanted them both.

Firey: And I tried to have them both, but that didn’t work out so well.

Golf Ball: …

Golf Ball: I’ve really never had any sort of interest in romance, thus meaning I don’t really understand anything in that category well, but to me this is really easy to classify as something you should never do in a relationship.

Tennis Ball: Yeah. No judgement from me here, but, communication?

[Tennis Ball crosses his fingers behind his back, yet again.]

[Firey sighs.]

Firey: I know I screwed up. Badly.

Firey: I just hope we’re still friends.

Tennis Ball: Best of luck to you, Firey.

[Golf Ball pulls out her phone to stop the recording.]

Firey: Wait, you didn’t tell me you were recording this—

{End of video.}

matcheesymonster

@goiky.match-s23 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

HA HA HA “i js hope we r still friends” babeeee u dont deserve her….

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Monday, Feb 17, 2025 5:27 PM SGT • Posted on MePhone13

pencepence

@goiky.pencil-u67

⤷ Replying to @goiky.match-s23

ik nd hes not evn hot or anythinf like its insane how im sympathetic 2 LEAFY of all ppl 😭

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Monday, Feb 17, 2025 5:31 PM SGT • Posted on MePhone13 Pro

pin 🎀

@thepin_t98 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

oh

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Monday, Feb 17, 2025 5:40 PM SGT • Posted on MePhone11

🤑Coinster

@xXJackOfHeartsXx 

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

I told you guys and you didnt believe me

Now Leafy has to pay the price 😕

💬 1 🔁 0 ❤ 0 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 5:58 PM SGT • Posted on Booglebook

Golf Ball

@GolfBall.Goiky

⤷ Replying to @xXJackOfHeartsXx

Nobody believed me either. Isn’t that unfortunate, telling the truth only for the dumber, more uneducated populace to not believe you? It’s my life, which is quite frankly a waste of my intelligence.

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 1 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 6:09 PM SGT • Posted on Tandroid 12

salt <3333

@haters.are.just.salty

⤷ Replying to @gh_dr4maa__

i dont even go to this school but this is funny

💬 2 🔁 0 ❤ 6 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 6:22 PM SGT • Posted on Mephone 14

pepper <3333

@miss.pep.pep.pepper

⤷ Replying to @haters.are.just.salty

i knowww salt its hilariojus

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 5 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 6:29 PM SGT • Posted on Mephone 13 Pro

NAILY!

@_Naily_Nailed_It_

⤷ Replying to @haters.are.just.salty

SALT FROM THE SHOW INANIMATE INSANITY REF?????

💬 1 🔁 0 ❤ 2 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 6:31 PM SGT • Posted on Mephone8GS

salt <3333

@haters.are.just.salty

⤷ Replying to @_Naily_Nailed_It_

NO god i dont even watch anime idfk what inanimate insanity is leave me alone

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤ 3 🔖⬆

Monday, Feb 17, 2025 6:43 PM SGT • Posted on Mephone 14

Yoylegram DMs

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• @xXJackOfHeartsXx_2

Active 4hrs ago

• @botanicaleaf

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• @xXTheBestFlameXx

2 new messages - 14m

• @notneedy.

Seen

xXTheBestFlameXx’s Messages

— New Messages —

Pin im realy sorry for what I did I didnt mean to drive you and coiny apart

Just please forgive Leafy

6:29 PM • Seen 6:44 PM

Block this sender?

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xXTheBestFlameXx’s Messages

Pin im realy sorry for what I did I didnt mean to drive you and coiny apart

Just please forgive Leafy

6:29 PM • Seen 6:44 PM

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Active 3d ago

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xXJackOfHeartsXx_2’s Messages

Lol that video was funny

Friday, Feb 14 2:38 PM

Today, 6:53 PM

i’m sorry for not trusting you Coiny

i know i should've

can we talk in person? i don't want to resolve this over text

7:04 PM • Seen 7:12 PM

Yeah

7:47 PM • Seen 7:47 PM

Chapter Text

Bzttttt!!

The alarm clock rang in my eardrums, irritating me to no end. I brought my hand down on the snooze button, flinching when my hand and the button made contact. 

It was Tuesday, only a day after Pin and I fought because she couldn’t get it in her head that there was a possibility I wasn’t a total homewrecker who liked stealing other people’s boyfriends for the fun of it— except, that possibility meant Firey was the homewrecker. That possibility meant he cheated on me. 

After everything, he cheated on me . With another guy. With Coiny. With one of my best friends. I wasn’t taking it too well.

I pulled the sheets over my head, sunlight drifting in from open curtains doing nothing at all to cheer me up. I had half a mind to cover the windows entirely with the curtain, but then again, I had no energy whatsoever. At least I didn’t have to go to school today and face everyone, because, well, I’m suspended for two days; not that I would’ve wanted to go to class anyway. A relatively short suspension (Pin got a day and a week long detention, just to show how dumb school punishments were and how important reputation was) to be honest, though in my case that was probably worse.

My mom and dad were pretty pissed. Tree and Grassy were sympathetic, even if they didn’t understand all too well, since the only explanation they heard was during last night’s mental breakdown. And everyone at school hated me, and the only people I would think to turn to were either: A) Firey, the total idiot for being dumb and kissing Coiny while being in a relationship with me; Firey, the mess who always found a way to comfort me despite it all, yet this time the only thing he’s managed to do is hurt me more, or B) Pin, who should’ve gotten it, who should’ve understood me since she got hurt too, but instead she turned to her fists, or C) Coiny, who could’ve pushed Firey away— I didn’t see the picture for myself, or the original Ywitter post, but what I can garner is that he was a part of it too. 

My phone buzzed from underneath my pillow. I’d shoved it there hastily so I could stop myself from searching for that Ywitter post-thread, and that haste would most likely give me blue-light radiation someday. But, it wasn’t all bad if I got blue-light radiation, since the blue-light would prevent my brain from sorting short-term memories into long-term memories. Maybe that’s what I needed. 

Instinctively, I reached for my phone; then, I hesitated. Things like: What if it was Firey? No… what if it was Pin? Should I just go back to sleep? swirled around in my head.

I opened my phone, just to get flashed by my old lock-screen of Firey and I together. I covered his face with my finger, eyes focusing on the notification instead.

• 1 missed call from ‘Pin <3’ • 2 minutes ago

Oh. It was Pin.

Why was she calling me now? To apologize? How could she even apologize for punching me in the ribs because of a misunderstanding? A freaking misunderstanding.

I dropped my phone by accident when closing the lockscreen, but I didn’t really care too much— I was thinking of many other things. Specifically, why am I not responding? Well. I guess I want to talk things out with Pin, yet I also don’t want to in fear that things would go terribly wrong, like they always do whenever emotions are included.

Maybe I need to take a break. 

I stood up from the bed, stretching my arms for good measure. Sticking my feet into warm, comfortable slippers, I actually opened the curtains instead of straying away from them. Sunlight would do me good, right? My hair was a mess, so I had to brush it slowly just to draw out the moment (I slipped up a few times, and shed a few angry tears at the tangled ends and how the hairbrush didn’t want to go through, but I’m trying , at least). Then, brushing my teeth, then, whatever people do in the morning: my routine always differed from day to day.

Thirty minutes after Pin’s impromptu call, I was sitting on the porch of my house, watching the cars go by. I’d watched a mindfulness ad once where people just sat and watched the traffic and it somehow calmed them down, so I was hoping it was going to be the same for me. Otherwise, I’d be screwed.

It didn’t work.

I mean, the mindfulness tip was starting to work in the beginning, because not many cars were driving up my street. It was kind of fun then, since I made up a game in my mind where I counted every car that passed, seeing if I would buy that car for myself when I got my drivers’ license at 16. My favorite cars were the red and orange ones, though I didn’t see many orange cars other than orangey-yellow taxicabs. 

Then, an orange car came rushing into the road, playing loud songs on the radio with the window pulled down so everyone in the country could listen to what they were playing. It annoyed me so much, but orange cars weren’t ruined for me, just yet. They were pretty, and it was just one orange car in the sea of all the orange cars in Goiky. I continued watching the road, hoping that the next car would be tamer.

Well, the next ‘car’ wasn’t a car at all— instead it was a motorcycle. A red motorcycle with silver stripes adorning the front side. Yes, it was bold and flashy, just my type, but it was also very irritating . First of all, the noise was unbearable (you don’t need to rev your engine twelve times in a row, we get it, you ride a motorcycle). The next reason it was so overwhelming wasn’t even the motorcycle itself, just the sounds in addition to the motorcycle. Two dogs from different houses came out to have their morning walk and then they started barking at one another so goddamn loud; then, kids from the elementary coming out to go to school, and they just had so much energy and they were so ear-grating with them basically screaming — and, and, there was an airplane in the sky and it was cutting into the air with a huge woosh and it was like a knife to my ear again and…

I went back inside to my room. Mindfulness isn’t my thing, I’ve found. It’s fine, anyway. I didn’t really need all of that ‘meditation and inner chakra’ stuff. I didn’t.

Quickly, I slammed the door shut— locking it just as fast. Slumping down onto my floor because I didn’t reach my bed, my eyes started getting hot with what felt like another onslaught of tears coming down. I blinked once, twice, thrice, anything to get the faucet that was my eyes to stop. They came down anyway. Holding my legs together, I cried out the little water I drank today, rubbing my eyes every once in a while.

I should call Pin. She was the one to reach out to me first, and I would be stupid to throw away a perfectly good friendship. 

To be honest, it’s not a ‘ perfectly good ’ friendship if literally every year you have another huge, ground-breaking argument that brings the two of you apart for like, a few weeks. Ground-breaking argument in this sense being when she broke up with me because she didn’t like the idea of two girls together, and now this. It’s like we have an on-and-off relationship.

 A ‘perfectly good’ friendship was Firey and I. Except… it’s not ‘perfectly good’ right now. Why can’t I ever do friendship right?

To get my mind off of Firey and back on Pin —though, the distraction is like picking the lesser of two evils, since I don’t want to talk to either of them, really— I looked for where I dropped my phone about an hour earlier. It was found unceremoniously right next to my bed, no actual effort needed. It was a shame, because I really needed a buffer between me crying and then me calling Pin back. 

Hands shaking ever so slightly, I clicked on her icon in my contacts; pressing the ‘call’ button after two very deep breaths. 

“Hello?”

“Leafy? Is that you?” Her voice calmed me down for a fraction of a second, before making my heart beat twice as fast as before in a sudden bout of anxiety.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I started, trying my hardest to speak steadily. “Why’d you call earlier?”

“Oh, earlier.” An uneasy silence came from the other end of the call. I twisted my hair around, pretending like it didn’t get to me.

“I… I wanted to apologize. I, am,” Pin took a sharp inhale of air. “Really sorry. So, goddamn sorry, Leafy.”

You should be, rang in my mind, then I realized how saying that would just mess everything up again. “It’s okay, Pin.” I finally said after a second.

“But, it’s not. We know that. You know that. I was wrong, and I really miss you.”

“...Yeah. It’s not okay.” I took the phone off my ear, examining it for a full minute like it’d give me inspiration on what to say, what would make Pin understand what she did to me. Placing it back on my ear, I continued, “I… I just don’t know why you would believe a random Ywitter post instead of your best friend. Like, we’ve never— Our relationship hasn’t ever been this shaky before. I miss you, too, but that was horrible.”

“I know.”

“I think I just couldn’t cope with the fact that Coiny cheated on me— which he didn’t, apparently, he was being cheated with, and I don’t know what to do with that. Yeah, I know, starting a fist-fight with you isn’t a good therapy tactic, but you have to understand. It was really hard for me, then.” She said this drawed out and slowed, explaining to me as if I was five, which ticked me off just a bit until I processed the last bit of her rant.

Hard for her? Is that what she said, just now?

“You… It was ‘really hard for you’ ? Pin, are you being serious?” The hand twirling my hair gripped the strand so hard it felt like my hair was being ripped out. “Have you considered how hard it was for me? You— you can’t just say that, because I actually got cheated on, and Firey’s gay and I don’t even know if he really liked me or not, and I don’t even know if our relationship was ever real , and you’re saying it was hard for you ?”

“No, frick, no, Leafy— stop, you’ve got it all wrong—” Pin breathed out heavily, raising her voice faintly. “I’m not trying to downplay what you went through, I’m just trying to explain my side. I know I hurt you. And, I just want to own up to my mistakes. To become a better person—”

I hung up the phone then. I get what she was saying, but it was just so much harder realizing that Pin was hurt too, and I couldn’t villainize her for something Firey did. I couldn’t even get mad at Firey, either, because he was probably just exploring his sexuality; except, he never told me anything. It was confusing. I had to forgive them, eventually. 

But, not today. I needed time to let everything sink in. 

Luckily I was suspended. Two days to let myself breathe. It’d be great.

Chapter Text

It’s a few days after the entire Leafy and Firey fiasco. 
Everything’s been starting to calm down recently, which is probably for the better. I have a feeling today isn’t going to be that crazy, either— considering all the drama that happened lately and how tired everyone feels now. Though, also because of all that happened, I shouldn’t be too certain of that. Regardless, today is a school day no matter what happens, so another eight periods of classes and work. The quick change from investigation to normalcy will be a bit tough for me, but I’m sure I can adapt. You need to adapt when you work on inventions, anyway— who’s ever heard of a successful inventor that’s also stubborn?

This morning, it just so happens that I’m walking with Golf Ball by my side; which isn't a common occurrence since her parents usually drive her to school. Ever the more reason to cherish the moment. So, that’s why I’m here, walking just three inches away from Golf Ball… nothing more, nothing less… 

Well. I need to stop going down that route, because it wouldn't benefit any of us. Lately, I’ve been indulging in stupid, and irrational ‘romantic’ (not even, but there’s no other word to describe it) gestures towards Golf Ball, which is completely mind-boggling to me. I don’t even like her in that way, not really. These thoughts will only lead to heartbreak— GB’s made it clear how romance isn’t important at all to her. So, distancing myself from her (and thus, distancing myself from the odd thoughts sparking in my head) would be the best course of action. Even if it’s a bit painful, because Golf Ball has always been my best friend. 

We’ll have to be just friends, then. I can manage that. It’s not like this hasn’t been my life since the day we met.

We’re two blocks away from the school now. GB and I go to different first periods (Algebra 2 and History, respectively) so just two blocks until we part. In the meanwhile, I can focus on other things, like the Goiken government presentation we were going to do today. 

Clearing my throat, not because I really needed to but because I needed something to do, I said, “GB, have you finished your presentation in History yet? I’m still a bit unsure on what to put for the effects of the government on the people.” Obviously, I knew this already. Though, it’s small talk to distract me.

She looked a bit surprised at the sudden question as I was quiet the entire walk in nervousness and fear that something would slip out. Nevertheless, she took a moment to think before saying, “Well, it was the Nine Year War that came after the government’s inauguration.” Perplexed, she added, “We learned this yesterday, were you not paying attention?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just, slipped my mind.” I went back to not speaking. Focusing on my feet, instead of focusing on Golf Ball.

We crossed the intersection, leading to the hilly street that Goiken High was built on. Now, with the hill, we had to put in more effort to walk up to the gates— which would’ve been slightly annoying on a normal day where Golf Ball wasn’t walking by me, but today it actually was a bit endearing to see GB huffing and puffing all the way like it was some sort of long hike.

No, not endearing. Definitely not endearing. 

Finally, we reached the large doors. Golf Ball had to go up to the second floor for homeroom while I stayed in the first, so almost immediately we had to separate. I waved goodbye to her so as to not arouse suspicion, waiting until she disappeared into the bustle of the staircase to get to my class. 

—-

Homeroom, as usual, passed by rather quickly. Even with its short nature, it seemed like there were a million conversations happening one after another, overlapping in some cases. Well, people were bound to talk about all that happened recently. It felt a bit sudden, though.

Straining my ears to listen closely, I could hear snippets of the rumors being spread. Namely, things about how they were so sorry for Coiny and Leafy. How they were stupid to assume Leafy cheated just because of her signature color, green, being shown in the picture. Some of the nastier conversations being held, however, contained more negative comments about Firey’s sexuality; other comments shaming Leafy for breaking up with Firey when they were the ‘picture-perfect couple’. A select few remarks were more inclusive, though, shaming Coiny as well for ‘letting it happen’. I didn’t exactly know what to make of this, so I stopped listening. 

After morning announcements and attendance, I walked to History alone.

Ms. Six wasn’t the type to assign much work, so after about twenty minutes of working on my presentation, I was done. It was simple as you only had to list a few things you could take straight out of the textbook. Maybe if I focused on the aesthetics of the presentation, it would’ve taken longer, but I didn’t really care much for the look because Ms. Six wasn’t going to take points off if my presentation looked ugly. As a result, I had twenty-five minutes left to do absolutely nothing.

I looked over at my deskmate, Fries, who was presumably also finished as his Booglebook had no tabs open. I could bother him; after all, why not try to maintain a friendship? Actually, I already considered us friends— even though we talked only for assignments that required peers. Better late than never to strengthen the relationship, I guess.

“Hi, Fries. Um, what’s up?” I said, a bit nervously. 

Fries turned to me with a bored expression on his face, saying “Hey, TB.” before turning again to continue to look at his blank screen.

“So.” I gulped. “How’s your, uh, presentation holding up?”

“I finished it.” Fries deadpanned, not even looking up from the screen.

“Cool,” I replied, drawing out the ‘o’ to fill the silence. “Me too. Then, how’s your day been?” This wasn’t going so well. Was Fries always this antisocial?

“Pretty boring. Nothing ever happens here.” I would agree if all of the events of Valentines’ Day were erased. I nodded anyway.

“I get that.” To continue the conversation, I added, “So, wanna hear about mine?”

“Knock yourself out, dude.” Now, he was reaching in his bag to grab a pair of headphones and a burger, eating the burger while his headphones were plugged into his phone. Who ate food in addition to listening to music? Genuinely concerned, I thought of asking Fries that very question before holding back in case my comment felt a bit rude to him. Very well, then.

I started to speak again, continuing to talk about my day whether or not Fries was even listening (who knew how loud he blasted his music), saying, “Basically, my day’s been boring too, if you really think about it…”

“But, it’s also been comfortable, in a sense. Like, in the morning, I was walking to school with Golf Ball —which, for reference, isn’t something that happens very often, so that was nice— and we just… enjoyed each other's company?“

“That’d be annoying to me, not gonna lie. I feel walking alone is much calmer.” Fries responded in a blasé tone. OK, not really the point, but I’m glad he’s responding to me instead of just concentrating on his half-eaten burger. 

“Possibly. Though, I like hanging out with Golf Ball. She’s great.” As I was saying that, a dumb smile snuck its way onto my face. “Then, in homeroom—”

“Are you two dating?” Fries blurted suddenly.

The smile on my face disappeared immediately, replaced with a look of pure embarrassment accompanied by a thick, red flush. “...No? Uh— um, why’d you think that?” I said in defense coolly, though the question might’ve actually come out in a squeaky, unconfident tone.

“You always talk about her. Even when we’re doing work together, which is dumb. Focus on your work.” he said gruffly. In about three large, large bites, the burger was finished. Fries got up to throw away the wrapper, so I had a few seconds to process his reasoning.

He got back in just a few seconds flat. As soon as Fries sat in his chair again, I tried my best to retaliate with, “That doesn’t necessarily mean we’re dating,” but my mortified expression lessened the bite of the sentence. Couldn’t I go one day without someone mentioning something about Golf Ball and me being in a relationship?

“How was I supposed to know that?” he scoffed. Well, I suppose it was true that Fries didn’t really know much about my love life. But, still— why would anyone assume that about me? “Sorry!” I said with mock pity.

A moment or two passed in silence. Glancing up at the clock on the wall before realizing it’d take too much time to read, I looked at the digital clock on Fries’ still open Booglebook to see that there was still a large chunk of class time left. I wondered what I could do until I remembered how I was talking to Fries about homeroom. Now, with a purpose, I turned to him and said, “Can I continue talking about what happened in my day now? You cut me off earlier.”

“Oh yeah. My bad, dude. Go on.”

“So, in homeroom, I heard so many people gossiping about Leafy and that whole ‘cheating scandal’. I investigated and interviewed a few people when the tensions were still running high, meaning I let the truth come to light. Now, I feel a bit bad because that means I sort of caused this to happen. At least most people don’t blame Leafy now…” It felt a lot nicer to talk about this to Fries, since with all the inner conflict with GB, it barely feels like I can have a meaningful conversation with her without worrying about how I feel. It was a large weight off my chest, for sure.

“Um, you didn’t cause it, not really. But, what do I know? Really, all I’m thinking about right now is going home, not whatever scandal you’re talking about.” Fries confessed. Oh. It’s unfortunate to hear that the one person I could really confide in didn’t care all too much about the topic I was speaking on. 

“Eh, either way, I got to talk to someone.” I responded, downplaying the effect his words had on me.

“Meh.”

The rest of the period continued on without a hitch. Ms. Six did do one presentation at the end, though— one person that I didn’t really know well who wanted to just get it over with. Not very notable, to be extremely frank. I would’ve presented, too, but there just wasn’t enough time. If only I was the first person to think of that, then maybe.

I had Finance next; where I had to face Golf Ball. I’m ashamed to say I am just a teensy bit nervous for what’ll happen in Finance, but my brain tells me it won’t be much. I have to listen to my brain, right? No matter what my gut says. 

I silently wish myself good luck as I walk out the door.

Chapter Text

First field trip of the year!

It’s honestly not surprising that our field trip is this late in the year (six months in, with three to go,) with how horrible my freshman class is. Like, we had to have an assembly sometime in late-February because of how bad the vandalism was in the bathrooms. Trust me—I’m, like, a bathroom regular with how often I go there to skip. The graffiti on the stall walls are… concerning to say the least, but it’s not like I haven’t contributed to the Sharpie writing either, so I’m not really an angel here either. 

Back to the topic. We’re having a trip to a campsite out somewhere in south-western Goiky, where the not-famous-but-also-kind-of-famous Evil Canyon lies. It’s a pretty long trip, too, lasting from Friday to Sunday. I searched up the campsite the day we got the permission slip, and apparently it has tons of bad reviews on Boogle, averaging a measly 2 star rating for the “multitudinous amounts of poison ivy and other dangerous flora”. The rating concerned me just a little bit, but what I was really wondering about was who actually used the word ‘multitudinous’ in their everyday lifestyle? God, people were so formal on Boogle, and for what—they’re literally reviewing a dumb campsite somewhere in the most boring woods ever.

In my opinion, though, I think that the poison ivy makes the campsite fun. Well, as long as I don’t touch it… That’d be horrible, like—just thinking of being itchy makes my skin crawl. Maybe I should’ve brought gloves along, to terrorize the rest of Freesmart with the ivy. 

We’re boarding the coach bus right now. Obviously, I’m going to sit next to Pencil, because she’s my newly declared girlfriend who surprisingly, isn’t homophobic. Who’s also, more surprisingly, into me! What’s really unfortunate about our relationship, though, is that we haven’t kissed or anything, just yet. I was just too tired mentally after our entire lover’s spat, if you could call it that, back in January. But, I’m up to it now, with a whole month of being with Pencil in a more than platonic way. 

Thing is, I would love to just swoop Pencil up and lean down to kiss her, like those romantic tangos where the guy’s all handsome in his shirt with a few buttons loose to show off his immaculate pecs, and the girl’s blushing super hard since she’s so into it. Except, I’m not a guy— ew! But, if I really did kiss Pencil, right now, (even if it’s, like, on the cheek or something,) people’d find me totally weird. And then make fun of me for being lesbian, even though I’m the one that’s supposed to make fun of other people. Snowball would be one of those people, if I’m being honest. Still, have you seen Snowball’s haircut? It’s absolutely horrid, and yet he still has the audacity to police who I like. 

Well, I guess I didn’t care about Snowball all too much either way, when I remember that one time he didn’t pick me in elementary dodgeball because I’m a girl… Sexism, hello ? Nevermind the fact that it was in elementary—my point still stands.

Sitting on the plush, actually reclining chair just makes me more glad we didn’t have to ride in one of those awful smelling yellow buses. Back then, the Little Trees air-freshener at the head of the bus did nothing to hide the stench of fifteen or more little boys who don’t use deodorant and the odor residue years of little boys left behind. I always hated the yellow bus when I was younger, so this is a great change of pace. Even better, the windows are big and clean, compared to yellow-tinted windows that are definitely not covered with a window tinting film. Though, it’s not like I’m going to be able to see the window too much for the entirety of the two hours and a half ride, since Pencil took the window seat. 

A teacher at the front barked, “Keep your seatbelts on!”, and then the coach bus jerked alive—speeding away from the familiar sight that was Goiken High. Good riddance, I thought, even if it was only for the weekend. 

Pencil and I fought for the middle armrest, but I ultimately clasped her hand in mine and then we had to share the armrest. No, it wasn’t sappy or anything stupid like that, seriously. We couldn’t do anything fun, like kiss in public, so this was the alternative. Leaning my head on her shoulder was also sort of platonic (Flower and Ruby do it all the time, and they aren’t a thing, just close friends,) so I’m sure that was also something I could do to fulfill my love and belonging needs ; according to some guy named Maslow that I learned about in a pretty interesting psychology GoikTok.

The rest of the two hours and a bit were pretty boring. Sure, Pencil fell asleep with her phone in her hand open on Yoylegram Reels, meaning she had to sleep on me—very fun!—but that was it. Freesmart was too preoccupied with their seat partners instead of me, even though I’m a co-founder and they’re just members. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh. If that even makes sense in this situation. Whatever, who cares anyway?

After, like, two-thirds of an hour, we passed a “100 miles away from So-Ha” sign; the town where the campsite was. Apparently, So-Ha was some sort of riverside town where all the stuck-up (more than me, in my oh so very humble opinion,) valley girls lived. I only knew this because of that one Boogle search I did and because of Flower’s constant boasting that we were going to her hometown, where her mom ran the biggest hospital there—the So-Ha Hospital. Seriously, like, I didn’t care about her mom or her hometown, but oh well. 50 miles in, 100 miles to go.

—-

Two hours later, and we’re finally here. My legs were aching from staying in a sitting position for so long, even though I did stretch my legs for a few minutes when going to the bathroom at the back of the bus (there’s a bathroom! At the back of the bus! So much better than those disgusting yellow buses!). I shook Pencil awake, sticking my tongue out at the annoyed look she gave me. Groggily, she pulls herself up with our still intertwined hands. I think I might die out of anticipation for our first kiss.

The teachers herded us outside into the great expanse of pine forest and buzzing mosquitoes. It was really annoying, having to wait hours to get here—just to arrive to the sun beating down on us, humid air, flies that just wouldn’t stop circling around me, and the stench and wet floor of a fresh rain. We had to walk on a bumpy rock road to find a dingy sign saying, “Welcome to So-Ha Dreamer’s Campsite”, signaling that we were at the campsite. Why did I agree to this, again? Because, from my perspective so far, this field trip really freakin’ sucks.

Because we had two entire classes of 66 children each on the trip (spanning a grand total of 5 buses, which was probably so expensive for the school, ha,) we had to stand in single-file and alphabetically as our class supervisors called us up. Class 9G1 was the other class with us—our class being 9G2. It didn’t matter much to me either way, since I knew literally nobody from the other class. Just a bunch of nobodies, who’d make the hot weather more unbearable with their body heat. 

After everyone got situated, they started calling the names. “First up, Balloony… Air… ate-shun? Is that how you pronounce it?” 

“Balloony Aeration, actually.”

Oh, I get it now. This was one of those teachers.

Freesmart was called up pretty early, so I was separated from them again. Instead of being with my friends, I was called closer to the end, with my last name being “Stick” and all. Luckily, I wasn’t alone. Pencil was with me too, her full name being “Pencil Ticonderoga”. It was kind of a long name, and a really hard thing to spell back when we first met in elementary school. Though, now I’ve grown fond of the dumb name. Not that it was really ever that dumb, not with my joke of a name. Great going, Dad.

Pencil walked up next to me, our sides barely a finger apart. Slinging my arm around her shoulder, I leaned in to hear her whisper, “Wanna ditch this place first thing?”

“What'll we do out in the wilderness?” I scoff. 

Pencil half-smirks, eyes closed for a second before she opens them again, “What do you think?” 

She extends an arm to hold my waist, hesitates, then holds it by her side again. Right. We’re in public. I take my hand off of her shoulder, leaning back to my right and widening the space between us. I get it, but it still hurts.

The attendance ends for both classes, and the class supervisors start talking about directions on what to do. We’re to collect samples of the plants around here to study the cells, because this is a science trip first and foremost. Though, for me, it was just an excuse to get a tan; even if the smell was not desirable, like, at all. The things I would do to be on a beach right now… damn the fact that it’s still March!

Pencil turns her head to me expectantly after the supervisors quit talking, and I remember I have to actually answer her question. A stray leaf is caught in her hair—crinkled moss green leaves in caramel blonde hair—so I pluck it out swiftly before I say anything. She glances at my hand, confused, so I hold the leaf out to her as an explanation. Pencil rolls her eyes, and continues to glare at me as if that’s going to coax an answer out of me—as if the question even mattered that much.

I open my now chapped lips (now I have to ask Ruby for her cherry chapstick, but I guess that’s what happens when you don’t drink water for two hours) after a few moments pass by to say, “I don’t really care what we do, not really. Even if we do nothing.” Looking at my chipped red nails, a product of speed bumps and the following inertia, I continue, “Let’s just do it, Pencil.”

She grins: it’s the right thing to say. Pencil loops her arm around the crook of my elbow, holding tight as she drags me towards a fence keeping the campsite in. We reach a low wooden fence, so it’s no problem to climb over it. And then, just like that, we’re out of the So-Ha campsite bounds, with nobody there to stop us. And nobody to see what we’ll do next; whether or not it’s something bad. But, honestly, define bad. It’s not like we’re criminals or anything.

I follow Pencil until the fence and everything behind it is almost completely covered by the masses of trees, foliage, rocks, and whatever plants we encounter in the short trek. Pretty interesting species, if we were here for the intended purpose of the trip. Somewhere in the walk, we start holding hands instead of just interlocking elbows. It’s nice. Instead of the sweltering heat that sticks my top to my armpits, the sweat that drip-drops down to settle on my brow, and the rocks that strike me as I walk almost barefooted with only a flimsy pair of sandals I’d put on last minute, I focus on the comforting warmth coming from Pencil’s hand. It’s a bit hard to do with her hands being so freaking sweaty, but I manage because it’s Pencil . 

We reach a clear spot free of trees five minutes into the walk. Conveniently, there’s a flat rock we can sit on, but it’s more like Pencil sitting on the rock because I’m sure there's ants somewhere here. And I’m not going to be the one who’s going to get bit in the butt by a vengeful fire ant. Nor am I the one that’s going to get her cute jean shorts ruined by the grime that’s most definitely on that boulder. 

Surprise surprise, Pencil’s the one to sit on the rock—hauling herself on the stone slab and kicking up a storm of dirt in the process. I quickly pull myself to the side so the dirt doesn’t spray on my legs or my jeans (thanks, Pencil, you almost ruined my outfit!). Then, I make a beeline for Pencil’s lap; I want to sit down, without all the disadvantages that actually come with sitting down in nature. I’m an innovator, really. 

Pencil’s surprised for a minute when I sit on top of her, expression rapidly changing from neutral to confused to annoyed to resigned. It’s funny seeing her look so dumb—maybe I should do this more often. Hell, this way makes me taller too, so there's really no downsides. Except the fact that Pencil’s probably going to get petty and sit down on my lap. Oops! 

She snakes an arm around my waist like she meant to back in the campsite, her hands flush with the bare skin showing because of my baby tee. Despite the fact that it’s probably like a hundred degrees outside right now, Pencil’s palm is cool against the warmth of my stomach. I respond to the touch by laying my head on her hair, hot in the sunlight, and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead after pushing away the bangs with my right hand. Our first, even though it’s not a kiss on the lips. It’s peaceful, staying like this, yet it’s also super hot and I’m sweating buckets underneath my beige headband. Though, that’s kind of sad in a way, because tomorrow’s going to be back to the winter-like weather and this is the only time I can hold my girlfriend like this. Like, I’m not poetic at all, but even I can see the symbolism. It’s not exactly pretty.

We sat there basking in the breeze for a considerably long time. Well, whatever. It’s not like we have anywhere to go, really. Who actually wants to go on a field trip to analyze weeds? Not me or Pencil, that’s for sure. 

Leaning on Pencil, I spy out of the corner of my eye a huge spider. What the hell?

I scream and jump out of Pencil’s lap before she muffles my mouth with her hand, shushing me with her free finger. “Are you stupid, Match? If you scream, we’ll get caught!” she hisses at me. 

I take her hand off my mouth to plead, “There was a spider, Pence Pence. Like, how was I not going to scream?” She rolls her eyes for the second time today in response. OMG, so annoying. If she wasn’t hot, I would’ve dumped Pencil already. Maybe. Probably.

Pencil glances at the spider crawling up to where we sat moments before. It was really big, so I don’t know why Pencil isn’t totally freaking out right now. Next, she looks at me, eyes wandering downer and downer… um… until they reach my shoes. Bummer! 

“Give me your shoe.” she demands right out of the blue. 

“...What?” I say, momentarily stunned. Not what I was expecting. Don’t tell me she had a—

“No, just…” Pencil sighs. “Give me it. I need it to kill the spider, idiot.” Oh! That was more reasonable than what I had thought.

I take off the sandal with a bit of hesitation. For the little time that it takes Pencil to smack the spider with the sole of the shoe, I have to do some sort of tree yoga pose that I don’t know the name of to make sure my feet don’t get dirty. But, she gives me it back pretty quickly, which is great since I never practiced balance in gym class. 

I’m reluctant to get back on the rock, now that I’ve actually rested a bit. Pencil seems to feel the same way, despite her fearlessness when dealing with the bug. I’m a bit bored too, now that our whole touchy-feely moment is over. Sounds like the next course of action is to venture deeper into the forest, isn’t it?

I walk over to Pencil, ready to start exploring more of the area around the camp. However, when I approach her, she plops right down onto the ground—disregarding the fact that it was probably extremely gross. Somehow, my common sense is thrown out the window and I sit down right next to Pencil, taking her hand and putting it in my lap. I just kind of look at her recent manicure, waiting until she finally says something.

After a moment, she says, “I don’t want this to end.” 

“Me neither,” I find myself replying. “Then, I guess, we should, like, make the most of it?”

“Sure. I guess.” she breathes out.

I place her hand back in her lap, and Pencil lets me. We lay in the dirt and wait for something I don’t know before we can get up and explore some more. It’s vulnerable. It’s freeing, somehow. Don’t quote me. I don’t know what I’m saying.

What I do know is that I really like Pencil, and I want this moment to last. So I turn my head to stare over at my girlfriend until we’re ready to do more.

Chapter Text

Is this field trip supposed to be fun?

Because for me right now, it’s really not fun at all. Yes, I know—it’s been a month since… that, and I should be over it. I shouldn’t be affected; I need to be the bigger person and move on, right? Except, it doesn’t work like that. If it did, I would be in much higher spirits today and be able to actually enjoy a trip where I can take a break from preparation for this year’s exit exams. Unfortunately, Firey’s got a bigger grip on my emotions than I thought. 

It’s been two hours since the trip advisors did roll call, and an hour and thirty minutes after we did a whole impromptu lesson on safety in the wilderness: how to put up your group tent, what plants you shouldn’t touch, things to do in case of emergency (for example, a rogue bear attack—but, let’s be for real now, that’s never going to happen). I zoned out through the entire thing since I already knew the material thanks to a family vacation some time ago. Now, I’m just sitting in my newly made tent alone, my group members (Pin, which is unfortunate, Taco, which isn’t unfortunate, and lastly Book, who’s pretty nice) outside or roaming in their friends’ tents. I’m not lonely, though. I feel more glad, because I really need time to myself. If that isn’t obvious, after all that’s happened.

I cushion my back neatly on an array of pillows I’ve packed for this trip; my favorite pillow, a green heart with white frills on the sides, isn’t on the blanket set to act as my mattress, instead held tightly in my arms. It’s sort of like an emotional support plushie, since my mom insists I’ve grown too old for my childhood toys. The only thing I can see from this position on the blanket is the top of the tent. It’s not ideal—I’d like to be outside and see nature rather than gazing at yuck-yellow plastic this entire trip, but everyone is outside. Everyone includes everyone , so, in that case, I’ll stick with the plastic.

I lay like that for probably three minutes before getting bored. Not bored , actually, just tired of jumping around topics I really don’t want to get into right now. Even though I have to, eventually. Just not right now. In a form of procrastination, I go to my bag and pull out a thin book I’d haphazardly stuffed in there yesterday; One Hundred Amazing Leaf Species . It was a nonfiction book describing the different types of leaves you could find in Goiky and how you could identify them, which felt fitting for this science trip. I got it from a flea market on Sunday a week ago on a forced outing courtesy of Tree, who demanded I go outside, but I never read it. Guess today was this book’s lucky day then. I have nothing better to do anyway.

I flip the book open to the first page, and I am very surprised to see a loose leaf paper note stuck in between the first two pages. It flutters face-down into my lap, and I pick it up gently so as to not rip it accidentally. Who knows, it could be a relic. Flipping it over, it reads,

Firey wanted me to give this to you. I know you would’ve been mad if I told you about this right now, so I put it in this book for you to read later. - Tree

I stop reading before I can see whatever Firey wrote on this godforsaken piece of paper, too mad to treat the loose leaf with the same amount of delicacy I had literally only a minute prior. What the hell is wrong with my life? Is this karma for not forgiving Firey yet? But, then again, why should I be expected to forgive him?

Just then, a knock sounds at the tent door—except, the door’s made out of flimsy material and not something strong like wood, so the tent just sways and that’s how I notice the knock. Too disorientated to say anything to discourage the knocker, I just sit in place as the door’s unzipped and Pin’s inside the tent again. 

“Hey, Leafy,” Pin greets softly, sitting down on the opposite corner of me. At least she isn’t sitting right next to me and pretending we’re all good again, but, actually… Why can’t she? It’s been a month. I need to be nice and forgive Pin, right? Otherwise, I’ll just feel all kinds of horrible.

“Hi, Pin!” I attempt to say enthusiastically. This is forgiving Pin: being nice to her. Even if I really don’t want to talk to anyone. “What’s up?”

She stares at me, confusion clear on her face. Was that not enough? Maybe I can show her that I’m fine by initiating conversation.

“Well, for me, I was just reading this awesome book, right over here!” Excitedly (or as excitedly as I can muster) I shove the handbook in her face, flipping to a random page. I can feel my knee crush the looseleaf as I half-get up, but I don’t pay it any mind. “This is my favorite page!” I lie through my teeth.

“Your favorite page,” Pin takes the guide in her hands, turning it over so I can see. My face falls for a split-second before flickering back to ‘happy’. “Is the bibliography?”

“Yes—”

“Nice, that’s nice, okay, um.” Pin hands back One Hundred Amazing Leaf Species to me, brushing her hands off on the front of her skirt. “That wasn’t really the point, sorry. I wanted to ask how you are doing today.”

I tone down my feigned excitement, sobering my almost manic smile back into a neutral expression. Sitting properly, I arrange my legs into a crossed position and make a big show of it just so I don't have to answer the question. After another minute of pretend-fixing my ponytail, I answer, “Great! I love science a lot, so this trip is going to be really fun.” Two lies and one truth—I do like science, but I don’t think this trip is going to be fun, and my feelings are a whole jumbled mess.

“But you haven’t done anything on this trip yet?” Pin responds innocently. My grip on the hardback cover tightened, and I hoped my fingernails didn’t make crescents on the heavy cardboard. Did she not know the art of subtlety?

“Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve been too obsessed with this book today!” I laugh awkwardly, eyes darting down to the handbook to sell the point further. 

“Well, we’re going to eat lunch right now. I think you should come, because it’d be lonely to eat in this tent. You can bring the book, if you’d want; I don’t think anyone would mind…” she trailed off, most likely wondering if anyone would care. The insides of my nails hurt from digging them into the cover too hard—recently, I’d gotten into the bad habit of biting my nails, and the uneven edges stung when they came into contact with something. I didn’t want to go out, but if I didn’t, Pin would suspect something was wrong. 

“Okay, since you asked so nicely!” I grin, picking up my tote bag to sling it over my shoulder. I place the book back in the tote, since I don’t want to lug it around everywhere. Pin takes her lunchbox that she’s left in the tent with her too, and then we’re unzipping the door to go out into the wild. 

The change from a normal amount of light to the extremeness of the sunlight takes a while for my eyes to fully adapt, though once my eyes do, I don’t know why I was cooped up inside for so long. Really, it’s almost like I’m a plant undergoing photosynthesis, because the sunlight gives me so much energy. However, it’s not enough to lift my mood fully, which sucks. We walk over to the mass of people crowding around a bench area, snagging seats at a relatively lonely table sat underneath a large tree. The only people at our table, other than us, are Needle and surprisingly Coiny. Looking around, I can also spot my group members sitting down at separate tables, but I don’t really care as I’ve only thought about Taco and Book a grand total of three other times today.

Pin sits at the side where Coiny’s at, which any other day would’ve been commonplace. Yet, this time, I’m in awe that Pin—who’s much more hot-headed and temperamental than me—still forgives faster than me. Instead of being next to Pin, I pettily try to distance myself; I sit at Needles bench. It isn’t something entirely new, like, I don’t know—me sitting next to David (a transfer student from 6th grade) or something, considering I don’t talk to him at all. Needle and I, though, we go way back. We talked a few times for a group project that we coincidentally were partners for. Friendship at its finest, really.

“Hi, Needle!” I wave rapidly at her. Then, I remember Coiny exists, so I also say, “Hi, Coiny!” I drop my lunchbox on the table and take out my sandwich with much gusto, ripping off the tinfoil and taking a bite basically in the same second. 

“Hi?” Needle glances at me weirdly. Coiny is less judgemental, simply responding with a chaste “hey,” before going back to his pasta. Pin looks up for just a moment, examining the situation. She smiles, then continues dusting paprika from a paper packet onto her strawberries. It’s a bit unsettling, but I don’t say anything about it.

An unsteady silence emerges as we eat our food with no further conversation. I would’ve liked it if I was the only one eating, however, with more people added to the equation—it just feels weird to be having lunch this quietly. Like, everyone else at the other tables are talking, so why aren’t we? So, on the spot I decide to sacrifice my sanity to satisfy the silence into going away, i.e., start some sort of dumb conversation. 

“Random question,” I began, “what would you do if you were homeless, had only nineteen dollars to your name, and you had no arms or legs, and someone walked into your alley and held you at gunpoint for crimes you didn’t commit?” The looks I get from my probably insensitive hypothetical make me regret saying it for just a moment, but the question fulfilled its job of breaking the silence, so I choose to ignore that regret.

“Psh—what kind of question is that? ” Coiny guffawed. “Though, you did say ‘random question’…” I roll my eyes at this.

“Are you okay, mentally?” Needle asked, wide-eyed and innocuous. Okay, I get Coiny’s response, but what prompted that out of Needle’s mouth? What, is she my therapist? Do I even need a therapist? I take it back: Needle and I, we don’t go way back, and now, I’m unsure if I still want to be Needle’s friend. 

…Kidding, haha! Who else is going to be my friend, anyway?

She continues on, “It kind of sounds like something that happened to you— oh , I get it now! You’re talking about what happened between you and Firey; but, in a metaphorical way. The assailant is Firey, or everyone that blamed you, and you’re the homeless—” Is she trying to psychoanalyze me, or what?

“Funny joke, Needy! But, actually, nope. Just answer the question, yeah?” I grin at her, dodging the slap she sends my way for the nickname by literal micrometers (I’m not being insensitive to her disgust for the name ‘Needy’, I only said it because she was rude first, swear!). Needle looks momentarily stunned. Probably ‘cause nobody’s ever dodged her slaps before. Serves her right to experience the feeling of not getting something you want, for once.

Glancing over at Coiny and Pin, I see their faces turn a shade of milky white in reference to “the situation”, or, at least, that’s what I dub it in my head. It’s much more classy—and avoidant—than something stupid like “that time where my boyfriend (wait, are we even still in a relationship? Is he gay? Is he my ex-boyfriend ?) kissed my best friend’s boyfriend, and then everyone said I kissed my best friend’s boyfriend off of a vague picture even though I didn’t, so everyone hated me for a good while and for some reason they never even thought to fact-check—until the truth came out, but nobody really hates the real cheater, only me, which is weird because he cheated and I didn’t”. What a mouthful, right? Just like the latter two, the color from my face starts draining, too, and my throat becomes dry, my eyes watery. I ignore this; probably just need to drink water, yeah?

“Well, I don’t think so—you know, it’s okay to talk about your feelings, Leafy. Maybe you just need to be alone. Staying in a group—sorry, relationship, can sometimes really limit your self-expression. From personal experience, finding yourself and what you want to do is a great way to self-actualize.” Needle kept on going, and going , her high-pitched voice grating on my eardrums. She sounds so annoying, God—how did I never notice?

“Can—can you just. Stop talking for a moment?” I don’t want to be alone, and what you’re saying doesn’t apply to me at all, is what I was going to say before I smartly cut myself off. Though, what I did say wasn’t all that great either in the tedious process of keeping up my happy-go-lucky persona. Slapping my hands to my mouth to ensure nothing dumb comes out of my mouth accidentally, I try to play it off as if I was just resting my elbows on the tabletop. 

“What?” Needy asked.

“Nothin’,” I said in response, hands muffling my words.

Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything more as one of the trip counselors blew their whistle and shouted for everyone to get to the commons building, where summer camp registry and all of those summer extracurricular things were held. The commons building also functioned as a meet-up spot for us Goiken High students, apparently. We picked up our lunch boxes, throwing away the scraps of our food, and then headed for the building.

Yet another roll call was done, and then the counselor with the name tag displaying in a bold red font the name ‘Billy Bob Joe’ hollered, “Okay, great, everyone’s here! We’re partnering up now to go into the forest, so make groups of three and then we’ll go!” I groaned internally, wishing that Needle wouldn't pick me. It’d only cause more confusion.

Pin walked up to me, and by association Coiny, since he was stuck to her by glue. Maybe he thought if he was separated from his girlfriend another time, he’d get kissed again by someone else’s boyfriend. That’d cause separation anxiety in the long run, but I didn’t comment on it in fear that Pin would do something bad if I did. 

“Want to partner up, Leafy? You, me, and Coiny make three.” she said, barely leaving any room for rejection. Not that I would reject the offer anyway; I rather like using my jaw without it hurting.

“Yeah, okay. Lead the way.”

I do the math in my head (it admittedly takes me a while. Still, I get there eventually). 66 students per class times two classes equals 132 kids, and 132 divided by three is 44 groups. But, probably twelve people are absent today, so that’s 120 kids. 40 groups. A whole bunch. Nonetheless, when all the trios are done and made, we somehow make it to the back of what looks like a marching band, but is actually just a line of high schoolers on a field trip. We’re hanging out with Billy Bob Joe, the caboose of the line. An unusual assortment of names for just one guy, if I do say so myself. 

Since Billy Bob Joe seems to not really be paying attention to us, only making “hup, hup” noises like some sort of cartoon character working out, Pin leans in to tell me something in secret. Coiny looks like he’s about to listen in, yet thinks better of it and gives us a foot of space. It’s odd: he’s supposed to be the one with separation anxiety. Though, I did make that assumption up in my head…

Somewhere between a normal whisper and a stage whisper, Pin mumbles, “Sorry for not noticing how bad you’ve gotten. I know I apologized earlier, like a month earlier, but still… what you said today, at lunch…”

I tune out whatever she’s saying, determinedly deciding to not listen to the apologetic spiel. Most likely a bunch of nonsense where Pin’s so sorry that this happened to me, and she’s going to do better next time, if I give her a chance. Maybe some ‘I know how this feels, I went through it too,’ or another dismissive statement like that. 

But, to be honest? I don’t care at all—I already am going to forgive her. Soon. So, I don’t care.

Chapter Text

Today’s the day…

I think I might finally confess to Golf Ball today. 

Honestly, I don’t even fully think it’s the right idea, which is a definite first. But, something tells me that, for once in my life, I should just ‘go with the flow’. It’s sudden—I’ve only just gotten the courage to finally admit the fact that I might be… in love with my best friend. Possibly. Maybe. I’m still not entirely sure. Though, me being in love with her sounds crazy enough to be true, with my luck. But, I guess we’ve known each other for years, so that balances the abruptness out somewhat. The only obstacle? Actually telling Golfie I like her. Because, even though I’ve thought this out, I’ve yet to decide how I should go on from this moment in time. 

We’ve only just begun a trek into the woods, so I guess I should confess somewhere in the middle of the hike—when the trios are more scattered and everyone’s not so clumped together that they’d be able to hear what I have to say. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to get rejected publicly? Anyway, I’m rambling, so I should get back to my point: complete Project Get Golf Ball To Like Me. Actually, that’s a bit forceful, so, how about: Project Tell Golf Ball I Like Her? I think that’s better.

The trip coordinator leads us deeper into the towering trees, leading us through winding stone pathways and forks in the roads. More often than not, the soles of my sneakers get stuck in the undergrowth, since there’s already so many plants on the way to our destination. Don’t even get me started on the animal feces and the other litter scattered around, like fallen leaves and twigs I have to make sure not to step on. It’s interesting, though: I’ve actually never been to a forest before. All of the trees and plants and bushes are wonderful—Mother Nature’s work is intricately crafted, and it’s all explainable with math. Everything is interconnected, how mind-blowing! 

Later on, the trees ultimately become so packed together that when I look up, I cannot even see anything past the foliage, except for a few beams of light that strike through the intertwined branches and leaves. Golf Ball, Nickel, and I have to walk in single file just so we can have some form of personal space. I’m squashed between Golf Ball and Nickel. I can’t even fathom how long the line must be with the amount of students walking one by one. We keep on treading on the path, making sure our footwork is steady and calculated; any misstep could potentially lead to a situation where one or multiple people fall on each other. That would most likely continue on and on, like a sort of domino effect—but, imagine twenty or so people on top of one another. It wouldn’t exactly be a pretty sight. 

Unfortunately, I was too confident in my stride. Suddenly, my foot knocks into the other one and then I’m sent toppling over. Remember the consequences of doing what I did right now? My hypothesis plays out perfectly, just like I thought it would’ve—my body mass is brought down quickly by gravity, only to fall on top of someone else; the same force pulling them down as well. And, I realize at the same moment that the ‘someone’ could only be… Golf Ball! 

After being knocked to the ground, I muster up the strength to push myself back up and regain my footing. Immediately, I look over to Golf Ball, who is still trying to get herself off the floor, and my face turns a deep shade of maroon. It spreads to the nape of my neck and the tip of my ears, and I know I must look really stupid. Obviously, I start to help her up, extending a hand to GB which she takes without hesitation. She shakes the dirt off herself, rubbing dust off her cheeks and her pants. I do the same, feeling even more embarrassed that I helped her up before dusting myself off; it was a selfless act, sure, yet it’s still mortifying.

Luckily, nobody else was toppled over, which is lucky. Now, I anticipate that all the students behind us are extremely annoyed right now. I would feel the same way, but in the shoes of the person who is actually in the situation, I hated the extra attention. I’m sure that Golf Ball feels the same, as when I look back at her face, she has a similar expression to mine.

Silently, I express my humiliation. Though, I guarantee that Golfie already knew about that by the looks of my fading, but still reddened skin. Nonetheless, we continued on as if nothing happened at all, jogging to catch up with the rest of class 9G2. Nickel snickers at our expense, but I don’t look back. 

We walk for a good ten minutes before we stop at a clearing. Our feet are tired and our legs are sore, so it’s a nice break. The trip coordinator shouts over the chattering of all the students that it’ll only be “break time” for no more than fifteen minutes, meaning it’ll be best to take advantage of the rest. My feet will thank me for this, that’s for sure. My trio, which is more like a duo—I don’t even know why Nickel is here, actually, but he’s my friend. Even if he can be a bit pushy with the ‘ Ten-Golf relationship ’ that he made up. No, not made up… since I do like Golf Ball in a romantic sense… which, frankly, still scares me a little. Maybe I do need to get this off my chest.

Anyway, finishing my sentence, my trio finds a place closer to the trees where we sit down on the ground. Everyone’s already crowded in the middle, so this is the only spot available. Obviously, I gravitate closer to Golf Ball, sitting close to her but also far enough that it wouldn’t seem weird to her. Because the one thing that lovers love is proximity, and we’re lovers. We’re going to be lovers, at least. Hopefully. 

Then, Nickel crashes the touching moment that we built right now, sitting right in between us—forcing Golf Ball to move away from me to give some space to Nickel. He’s third-wheeling a relationship that doesn’t even exist yet. How does that work? For the second time today, I’m not sure. GB looks like she barely cares about the new situation (Nickel being closer to her in distance than I am, currently), which pains me in a way I didn’t think it would’ve. Well, no use in crying over spilled milk now—I can’t do anything about Nickel wanting to sit next to both GB and I…

…unless I could potentially let Nickel in on my plan, and then he’d be able to help me out by knowing not to block my romantic advances. Why did I not think of this before?

“What will we do for fifteen minutes, then?” Golf Ball asks once we’re all settled. “I personally believe this break was a bit unnecessary, since my feet aren’t at all tired, but we have one anyway. So, we should use this time up as best as we can.” She wags a finger in the air, glancing directly at Nickel as if knowing he’s up to no good. Really, I’m the only one scheming today, so the glare is uncalled for. 

“I mean, we don’t have to wait for the others just to document the plants here. I saw so many on the way, meaning we could get a head start.” I suggested. It was half true, because I am a bit antsy to get started looking at the plants. Though, it was also a way to be separate from Golf Ball. 

“Good thinking, TB,” GB smiled at me. It made me feel really good and warm inside. Oh, God, I’m so whipped, I realize at once, cheeks flushing. “Perhaps we should split up as well, to get more research done?” she adds. 

I nodded, and so did Nickel. Gathering our things, we agreed to meet up back here in about ten minutes. Golf Ball set her watch to remind herself to come back. I did the same, just with my phone instead of a smartwatch. 

I head toward the northern edge of our section of forest, while Golf Ball walks towards the western side and Nickel towards the eastern one; the south’s where we have to go next, so it wouldn’t make sense if we went there. Besides, we only have three people, and four directions: one’s bound to be skipped if we all have an equal share. 

About a minute in, I find a narrow path, which was probably used by researchers prior to us camping at So-Ha. I start to follow it, occasionally branching off to further investigate certain species of flora. Once I actually can’t find my way back, I know that I’m too deep in the rabbit-hole, which is a bit stressful. But, I’m sure I’ll be able to research effectively without getting lost. Only four minutes in and I already have three specimens—which is, actually, a really good sign.

I’m continuing down the small trail when I notice some movement in the trees a few feet away from me. It could be an animal, or it could be someone else. Curious, I slowly walk toward the sound of rustling leaves, relying on my ears to guide me. My heartbeat rapidly increases the more I follow the sound, old creepypastas I used to watch as a kid coming back to me. The chance that the sound could be Slenderman is small, but never zero. After all, I am in a forest, close to night (two p.m., right after noon; close enough), meaning I should be weary.

Suddenly, a person pops out from behind a tree trunk, and I jump and flinch so badly, I bet it could have looked like the start of a seizure. Luckily, the person’s just Nickel, who laughs at my surprise. I laugh a little too, because how can I be scared of someone who’s barely five feet tall? 

“Hi, Tennis Ball, my bro-ntosaurus! Isn’t it funny that I caught you here?” Nickel grins.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” I swallow my pride before admitting, “I kind of thought you were Slenderman for a moment… You’re not tall enough to fit the role, though, so that was a bit irrational of me,” I chuckle nervously, a single bead of sweat rolling down my sideburn helping as evidence to show my previous fear. 

Nickel gives me a quick death glance, as if threatening me not to say something that concerns his height (or lack thereof) ever again. Touchy subject, huh. I drop the joke, remembering my project and what I came here for. Not researching plants, even if I do enjoy it, but actually telling GB about my feelings. I suppose this is the best chance I have to politely tell Nickel that he should leave us alone.

“Well, I have to tell you something, Nickel. Not about the plants, but something else.” Nickel looks confused for a second, but he allows me to go on. “So, um, remember what you told me in January—that, I, uh… might like Golf Ball? That’s, um—”

“It’s true, isn’t it? You do like her!” Nickel cuts in, stars in his eyes. He looks too excited to be good. Uh oh.

“...That’s what I was going to say. Yes, I… do like her, I suppose.”

“Wait! Does this mean you’re confessing soon, if you’re telling me about your crush?” I reluctantly nod, and Nickel, giddy with this new information, literally starts squealing. A manly sort of squeal, perhaps. 

“Oh my oobily goobily weezer beezers—do you have anything in particular you’re going to say to her? Can I help you brainstorm things to say? Pretty, pretty please?” Nickel shoots one question after the other in rapid succession, making my head spin. 

“Um,” I check my phone. We only have three minutes until we have to go back, and we’re quite far into the forest already. So, I say to Nickel, “Maybe later. We have to get back now. How about I go this way,” I point to my right, which is the eastern side of the forest. “And then you go the other way, so we can still cover more ground as we head back?”

Discouraged, Nickel sighs. “Fine, alright. As long as you let me help!”

“Of course.”

I walk until I can’t see Nickel anymore, trying my hardest to not get even more lost in the woods. I even pull out the compass app on my Tandroid, guessing which direction I assumed to be the south only eight minutes ago. While attempting to find my way back, I happen to bump into something, and to my sheer surprise, it turns out to be Golf Ball. That’s the second time today that I’ve knocked into her mistakenly. However, nobody falls over, so that’s a lot better than the last instance. 

“Oh, TB! Why are you venturing into my area?” Golf Ball glances at me questioningly.

“Um, well, I wasn’t really trying to, yet it happened. Did you find anything of importance?” I sheepishly rub the back of my neck. 

“Just two types of flowers. Though, they’re not native to this area at all, so I wonder how they came to So-Ha. It would be interesting to figure that out.”

“Ah, yes. I agree.” OK, well, it’s now or never. 

I can’t help but notice my palms are beginning to sweat. A lot. And my heart starts to speed up, too. But I realize I can’t let my anxiety get in the way of this, or else this won’t get resolved any sooner. I wipe my hands on my pants, dispelling the sweat and therefore my anxiety. Figuratively and physically. 

So with all my confidence from Nickel’s encouragement and my own built up courage, I ready myself to say the following words: 

“Golf Ball, I have something to tell you.”

She stops in her tracks, turning to face me. She tilts her head slightly to the side. “Hm?”

“Well, um.” Am I really going to say this?

I finally go over everything, every interaction we’ve ever had, and think that maybe it could work out, and it might end up well. I really don’t have anything to lose. Except our friendship… what if it’s not the same after this? Then, I slap myself mentally—Golf Ball isn’t the type of person to do that. What am I waiting for?

So I muster up whatever strength remaining from me, and tell her—

“I’m in love with you.”

Golf Ball’s face pales, looking entirely shell-shocked. She doesn’t speak for a while, presumably because she doesn’t know what to do next. Her mouth opens once, then closes, then opens again.

“Tennis Ball, I’m sorry.”

“But I don’t—I don’t exactly like you in that way. And, I don’t think I ever will.” 

My heart stops.

Chapter Text

It’s only three hours into our secret walk in the woods, and already something’s going wrong.

Pencil and I were just aimlessly wandering the forest for a little while after the whole spider incident and us sitting on the ground (it left dirt on my shorts for a long time, and that sucked). We’d actually gotten really far into our hike by then, which was great. Like, we were maybe, a good 20 minutes away from the camp? It didn't seem like a lot of distance, but it was, trust me. The further we were from our classmates, the better; none of them are too fun, sans FreeSmart, just because they’re our friends. It’s obvious, though: if we hadn’t stopped for so many breaks, maybe we’d be further away. Oh well.

Pencil suggested stopping somewhere near a clearing. Like, the clearing was about 9 meters behind us. Great for exploring, not so much for being found. If we had been smack in the middle of a place with no trees to hide us, it’d be guaranteed that we would’ve been sent back with more than, say, a simple slap on the wrist. 

I’d agreed with her, because Pencil’s smart and all—but, since I’m obviously smarter than her (like, c’mon. My IQ’s literally higher than Pencil’s, and this fact is backed up with that one time we did an IQ test in middle school) I had a few doubts about her idea. Mainly, why the hell would they not be able to find us if we were like, thirty feet from the clearing? She responded by flicking my head and just telling me to trust her. 

“They’re too lazy,” she’d said. “They wouldn’t go off the path, so they wouldn’t be able to find us,” she’d said. 

Now, it’s been not two minutes since Pencil said we should stop there, and in the distance, we can hear over a hundred footsteps traversing through the forest. We stop dead in our tracks, completely baffled. Who would’ve thought Pencil’s plan would fail? 

I did, but that’s beside the point.

In my victory of being right,I almost say “told you so,” to Pencil, but I restrain myself just out of the pure fear of being caught. I’m not a delinquent —no matter how many times I ‘accidentally’ skip class. And this certainly isn’t anything as small as skipping class. If we got caught now, the teachers will surely say something stupid, like, you could get hurt and then it’d be on us for your misconduct. God-freakin’-dammit, Mr. Four, because it really is your fault. If your classes weren’t so boring, maybe I’d have the incentive to stay for longer.

Pencil turns her head to look at me, and I can tell that she, too, is just that bit anxious of getting caught, although it isn’t obvious at first glance. And I thought she was stronger than me in things like this! 

Silently, I mouth to her, “Should we go back, and, like…” but I stop when she shoots me a confused look. Does she really not know how to read lips?

Sighing, I take her hand and drag her backwards, attempting to retrace our steps so we could escape to a safer location. Pencil doesn’t resist. Instead, she actually has faith in my plan—whether she knows the full extent of it or not. It’s surprisingly touching, and my heart does a weird thing in my chest. I don’t dwell on that part, however, because I’m more focused on getting to safety. Safety, as in protection from detention.

Bound together by our interlocked fingers, Pencil and I are able to just walk in the opposite direction. Everything’s going smoothly—save for, obviously, the trouble of walking, because, okay, I have to admit I wasn’t the best in gym class and I don’t have that much, like, stamina at all—until we reach a path that splits off into three different roads. And, lo and behold, neither of us remember which way we’d walked when we first came here. My grip on Pencil’s hand tightens. This is so unnecessarily frustrating…

Since Pencil’s apparently a bit of an idiot, I point at each path separately: first the leftmost path, then the middle path, and lastly the rightmost path. I hope the message gets to her, otherwise I look like I’m pointing blindly like a fool. Luckily, Pencil grasps the point pretty easily, thinking hard about which one’s our path. I think alongside her, trying my hardest to find in my memory which direction we took.

A few hard minutes of just thinking pass by in a flash, and still, none of us have a single clue. I try to identify each road by the plants in it. However, that’s no help at all, considering the fact that I was too focused on Pencil’s arm that was slung around my shoulder and her amazingly soft lips on my cheek. And, like, I was pretty justified for that, okay?

Frick, this is just too much thinking. In a spur of the moment decision, I pick a direction at random and follow it. Pencil rolls her eyes at me, and I (oh-so-kindly) decide not to remind her of the fact that she was just as stumped as I was. To be annoying, yet still quiet, I stick my tongue out at her and pretend not to notice the way her eyes flicker to my tongue. Because, like, it wouldn’t do me any good to give into any temptations when we’re literally trying to escape punishment. 

It’s only a minute later when we find we’re not as completely isolated from the rest of the classes as we think, because Pencil and I suddenly stumble onto a path… except, it’s populated by people already. I spot someone at the back of the line who looks suspiciously older than the rest and just hope they don’t notice us joining the group of people walking.

I take my hand out of Pencil’s and try my hardest to assimilate with the crowd. She does the same, landing a spot next to Pen. Ouch—that must, like, suck a lot. Pen’s her ex-boyfriend, whom I was really jealous about when I was still crushing heavily on Pencil. Like, sure, I’m still crushing on Pencil. Just now she’s my girlfriend. So, I don’t care about Pen anymore, since that’s embarrassing to be hung-up on someone else’s ex when you’re dating the person you want already. 

She shoots me a look behind her shoulder that screams ‘get me out of here’. I smile awkwardly. But, then I look over to my left and see Firey—who’s my ex-boyfriend! Who, in a way, turned me gay with how horrible of a boyfriend he was. Maybe it was 5th grade and maybe it was too early to be in a relationship, though that doesn’t excuse him leaving me to hang out with that loser, Leafy. And, wow, he cheated on her when they started dating; what was the point? So, I absolutely hate Firey. Like, I hate him, even if he didn’t actually turn me lesbian due to the pesky fact that that’s not possible. Yet, I developed a crush on Pencil the year after we broke up—so, the evidence adds up, wouldn’t you say?

After this awful realization, I look up to give what is basically the same look Pencil shot me just a second earlier, but she’s already turned her head to face the front. Gritting my teeth, I decide to ignore Firey and pretend he’s not even here at all. I ignore the side-eye that he gives me, too, because it’s not aloof if you’re telling the other person you’re actively ignoring to stop looking at you weirdly. 

Luckily, the clearing Pencil and I were avoiding is the destination everyone’s walking towards. For what, I don’t know, but it’s probably something stupid—knowing Goiken High. But, the thing I’m more focused on is that we reached this clearing, and without getting caught! Once we’re told to stop walking, Pencil looks back at me with the same delighted smile I’m sure I’m carrying. 

Unfortunately, that euphoria doesn’t last very long, as the old geezer at the end of the line starts walking our way. The smile drops off my face at once, and I harden my expression reflexively. 

Billy Bob Joe, as it says on the name tag, greets us with a sharp nod. “Where’d you two girls come from?”

Quickly, I start thinking of lies to tell him. Pencil’s faster, however, because she interrupts my thoughts with a blunt, “We went to the bathroom, sir. We came back about two minutes ago.”

He doesn’t buy the lie immediately, shaking his head. “That’s impossible. The camp bathrooms are about twenty-five minutes from here. Even if you sprinted, how would you have been able to get here that fast?”

I speak up this time, saying, “Well, like, we didn’t go to the camp bathrooms. We, like, just walked a bit and peed… in a bush…” I trail off, face flushing. Why am I explaining my private toilet experiences to a grown adult?

Billy Bob Joe doesn’t miss a beat with his response. “Then I would’ve remembered you two asking. Where did you really come from?”

Pencil clears her throat to say something when suddenly, Pen says, “No, mister. I saw them ask.”

My head spins to face Pen, who’s apparently been listening this whole time. And, who’s, like, on our side? How surprising—I’d expected him to be bitter that Pencil broke up with him. She’s quite a catch, and teenage boys can’t handle rejection. My face must be extremely shocked, because Pen shrugs subtly. 

Now, Firey pipes in. “Yeah, sir. I, um, remember hearing them ask you.” 

So, now everyone’s rushing to our defense. Which is good, yeah, but Firey’s practically the person I, like, dislike the most. Who would like an annoying prat, who’s also a cheater? Not me, for sure. Unlike how I turned to look at Pen, my gaze doesn’t move from Billy Bob Joe. I’m still ignoring him, after all.

“Oh. I must’ve not remembered. Silly me!” He raises his hands in the air, dropping the subject. Walking off to meet the other counselors (the other old people), he leaves the four of us alone.  

Wanting immediately to leave with my girlfriend and not two random guys, who aren’t exactly random but more so just plain weirdos, I usher Pencil over to my side. “C’mon, Pence Pence. Let’s go. ”

“Yeah, sure.” She walks beside me, and we go off to find FreeSmart.

Chapter Text

Wow.

Our group’s hike is finally over, and now we’re here at the clearing that took so long to get to. If you count a twenty minute hike (with a fifteen minute break, of course) to be long , that is.

Still, I wasn’t expecting the destination to be very pretty. Yeah, I do enjoy being in the presence of nature a lot—the outdoors is one of my favorite spots, considering I used to convince Tree and Grassy to come with me to take a walk in the park almost daily when I was younger—so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise. Nonetheless, I’m completely and utterly dazzled by the sights. From one plant lover to hopefully another, I promise you that this is really amazing. 

There’s a ginormous tree in the middle of it all: a girthy oak tree that seems older than time itself, with thick roots that are so big, they divide the clearing into sections. Epiphytes the color of moss stick to the tree’s trunk, while flowers, mushrooms, and weeds alike bloom nearby. I could probably name a few of the flower types, but I just can’t look away from the ancient oak. Its branches stretch across the diameter of the clearing, literally covering the sky with its abundance of leaves and vegetation. Despite that, the clearing isn’t dimly lit at all—no, actually the light streams through the branches and gives the entire area somewhat of an ethereal aesthetic and vibe. Even the dirt isn’t ugly at all. Instead, it’s a rich umber, contrasting with the tawny color of the paths back in the forest. 

Pin and Coiny gasp behind me, and I’m reminded of their presence. I turn to face them, spotting a ladybug sitting on Coiny’s outstretched palms immediately. Huh? My mouth opens a little in shock. I smartly close it before anyone can see, but Pin and Coiny don’t notice. 

I recognize the ladybug, so that’s not surprising to me. It’s the same ladybug Pin showed to me when we were walking on the trail—we had to stop for a second or two as Pin bent down and reached out a finger to let the ladybug crawl onto her hand. Getting back up, she beamed sweetly.

“Leafy, come over to my side. Coiny, can you move a little?” she said.

I complied without any resistance, and when I did so, Pin held out the ladybug for me to see. The color of the bug’s abdomen was a vibrant red, with seven black spots amidst the scarlet. Must’ve been a seven-spotted ladybug, then. 

“Isn’t this one your favorite?” Pin let the ladybug step onto her other hand, allowing her left one to rest for a minute by her side.

“Yeah,” I said, throat dry. My favorite. It wasn’t a lie. It’s just that times like this make me think we can almost be normal again. “Yeah. Ladybugs are my favorite. Caterpillars second, hah.” I shakily smiled.

“Want to hold her?” She held out her right hand, the one with the ladybug.

I hesitated.

In the end, though, I took the ladybug. She strolled onto my palms without a care in the world, oblivious to anything happening around her. The ladybug stayed in my hands for a matter of three seconds before I gave her back. 

It was nice, though. She didn’t bite or anything like that. 

Snapping back to reality, I see that the ladybug’s in Pin’s hands again. I suppose Pin just lent her to Coiny for a minute then, like how she’d done for me. Nothing really surprising there. I avert my gaze.

The trip counselor at the base of the tree starts shouting, “OK, students! We’re now ready for phase two of this hike—gathering materials.” She pauses to look at her clipboard. “Alright, so, instead of the trios you have right now, you’re actually going to need a group of six. The reason behind that is because there’s a lot of you, meaning a group of six is going to run a lot smoother. Any trios that can’t find another partnering trio to work with, come to me and the other advisors. The rest of you, get settled into your groups.”

After she said all that, Coiny clears his throat. “Guys—or, I guess girls —who’re we teaming with?”

I really do not want to socialize right now. Not because of any certain events that’ve happened recently , but more so because the thought of talking makes me want to barf. And that’s odd, since out of our group I’m probably the most talkative. 

Luckily, Pin speaks up for me before Coiny even glances my way. “How about we wait for someone to approach us? That way, our group looks more calm." She squats down and lets the ladybug go back to nature at last. I trace the bug's steps with my eyes until she disappears into a patch of dandelions.

"Sure, that'd probably work. Until you take into account that we could not get picked at all." Coiny snickers.

"Don't be like that!" Pin reprimands, and then she harshly ruffles up his hair. Coiny practically squawks at the touch, screaming a shrill “Bro!" , though Pin is merciless. After she finally stops, he tries fluffing his hair back up to no avail.

" Alright, then! Let's just wait by the tree. That's where everyone is." Coiny has an awkward smile on his face. Pin's, however, is more devious.

We walk over to the trunk of the tree, which is so wide I can lean on it and have enough space for both Pin and Coiny to be right next to me—shoulders touching and all. They don't lean, though. Instead, they just stand by my side and wait for someone to arrive. Honestly, it's a pretty hard wait; every time a trio's barely in our proximity, I jump a little in anticipation, thinking maybe they'll come and tell us to be our partners. That's scary, too. What if they're someone completely annoying, like how Flower was in middle school (even if she's considerably mellowed now—I still dislike her a little bit, since she's my cousin and I know her pretty well. Not that I'd say that to Flower's face!) or like Blocky who enjoyed teasing me in elementary. But maybe that was just friendly teasing...

Five minutes pass by in a blur. And, weirdly enough, absolutely nobody talks to us or even looks at our trio for more than a simple passing glance. Maybe they assume we’ve already found someone and are currently awaiting the next task. But, why would we be split from our partner if we had one? It’s confusing—and, frankly, a little bit rude. 

I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt, however. It isn’t nice at all to be throwing baseless accusations around. Trust me. I know.

With this new information, I uncross my arms (they’d assumed that position naturally) in an attempt to look more “welcoming”. If I look more approachable, surely someone will come by any second now. 

Unfortunately, at that moment, the trip counselor starts talking. “I think that’s enough time. Do we need more, or…” Nobody says anything. Everyone has their group assembled already.

But, wait. We can’t be the only trio without a group—there’s around 40 trios, meaning an even 20 groups of six. Is there a mistake? Is it true that everyone here but me has a group together? Am I really going to be alone, with only Pin and Coiny to keep me company? And why is that supposed to be a bad thing? How did it become that way? Does nobody care about me enough to want me in their group? Am I just a second thought—a “floater friend”? Friend of all, friend of none, that sort of thing? I start hyperventilating: my breaths come out sharp and jagged compared to the easy flow I had literally minutes ago. 

Someone puts a rough hand on my shoulder. I think it’s Coiny’s hand—it’s small and much too warm for any normal person. Then I remember. Coiny’s hands run colder than mine.

My ears start working again, as I can tell someone’s speaking right now. “—Are you okay? Leafy—calm down, um, no, um, um, um —It’s going to be okay, Leafy! Just breathe in, and out, like that, yes…”

I recognize that voice. Half of me is absolutely disgusted and wishes it could be someone else, while the other half is immensely relieved and wishes it’s the person I’m thinking of—my heart’s practically split into two at this point. Wanting to have some sort of idea who’s actually talking to me right now, I finally look up from the ground (if not a bit slowly, since my eyes just want to drift back to the dirt).

A bit obviously, the person standing in front of me is Firey. Accompanying him is Gelatin and 8-Ball, for reasons I’m not sure of yet. Maybe they’re his trio. Are they actually here to group with us? 

Firey guides me through the episode, hand on my shoulder more comforting than horrible at the moment. Even if it’s a bit sweaty, and Firey should cut his fingernails, the touch is grounding. I don’t tell him to take his hand off after I’ve calmed down. I don’t mind it at all.

I look around after taking a few steady breaths. Everyone in a three-person radius is looking at me—even the trip counselor, who sends me a worried look when I glance her way. 8-Ball’s the only one that looks slightly uncomfortable, while Pin, Coiny, and Gelatin seem to be more concerned for me. Right. They haven’t seen me freak out like this before in public; excluding That Day, but, to be fair, I was just mad then. 

Wait. They haven’t seen me freak out like this before in public. Nobody else in this entire school has before either. Meaning—my reputation is completely ruined. No more of that “nice, kind Leafy” persona—no, instead, I’m just “overreacting Leafy, who’s the anxious nutcase”. Now, I have to save my image. Because, well, who’ll like me if I’m not perfect?

“Ah, guys, don’t worry. I’m fine. Is it hot in here? I think it might be the heat making me crazy,” I say awkwardly, knowing full well the temperature today is a mere fraction of the normal summer temperatures in Goiky. After all, it’s March , meaning it’s more cold now than it is hot.

“If you say so.” Firey smiles at me, taking his hand off my shoulder once he’s figured out that I’m okay. “Don’t worry. I get super hot sometimes, even though my heat tolerance is really good, if I do say so myself… Just glad you’re okay, Leafy.” 

“Sure. OK. Um. What did you want from us?” I try creating some distance between Firey and I, but I forget my back is pressed up against the tree trunk and I just bump into the tree dumbly. 

“Oh, didn’t you hear me? I asked if my group could be partners with yours. We didn’t find one, and you were the only group left. Pin said yes already.” Firey replied smoothly.

“Ah. Yes. OK. Uh, great.” I splutter. When did he say this, again?

We stay silent for a few seconds. I can literally see the rest of my group exchanging uncomfortable looks at our tension. They’re not alone in being uncomfortable. I feel like crawling out of my skin would be more enjoyable than this encounter with Firey. 

Thankfully, the trip counselor starts talking again once we stop, probably because she was eavesdropping—how could she not, when I became the center of attention for those few, horrible minutes? “Well. How about we get to work now?” she says.

“Every group has to pick off a piece of a plant (or piece of bark, whatever, just has to be something from nature ) they want to investigate. Remember, it has to fit the claim that plant cells are different from animal cells despite being eukaryotic. Also keep in mind to not harm the plants too much—these plants benefit the ecosystem, and without them, it would cause a lot of damage to the environment. With that said, have fun!”

Okay. Finding a plant? I think this’ll be easy peasy, which is great. And, I always enjoy looking at all the leaf types; chloroplasts (one organelle that differentiates plant from animal cells) are located mainly in the leaves, so I’ll target them when looking at what to pick. Talking to the people in my group of six… I mean, I hardly know 8-Ball and Gelatin, and now I’m considering the fact that I might barely know my original friend group. That’s the hard part.

“Hey, team? Can we go to that empty side, ‘cuz basically nobody’s there? We can be original if we go there!” Gelatin suggests.

“Who would’ve thought the empty side meant no one’s there?” 8-Ball deadpans.

“Not cool, man.” Gelatin scoffs.

“Sorry. I was just trying to add some humor. But, yeah, sure.” 

“Well, okay. It’s not a bad idea, Gelatin. I agree with you.” Coiny pipes in. Pin adds her two cents by nodding along.

“D’ya think the reason why nobody’s there is because there’s nothing good there?” Firey looks over at Gelatin with wide eyes.

“Nah, bro! Trust me. It’s probably just empty because nobody thought to look there—and then, it’s going to have the best stuff ‘cuz no one took it yet!” Gelatin grins at Firey, making the gap in his two front teeth clear as day to see. 

“Alright, alright, fine.” Firey turns to me next. “What do you say, Leafy?”

I sorta hate how he’s trying to include me in everything. Then again, it’s really sweet how he’s trying to make sure I can say what I want to say without having to fight for it. “Sure.” I say half-heartedly.

“M’kay. Let’s go!” Gelatin animatedly points to our destination—twenty feet over, or two root sections over—then, embarrassed, puts his hand down and laughs sheepishly.

We start walking over when Firey approaches me at the back of our make-shift line. “Hey, Leafy, can I talk to you about something? I just really wanted to apologize—”

At the word apologize , it feels like all the hairs on my body stand upright in my shock. An apology? Right now? Can I handle that? 

“Um—uh…” I barely make out a sentence in response. I’m trying to say please, God, no, I really don’t want to hear this, even if it’s great that he’s apologizing, though my mouth is refusing to cooperate.

“So… well…” he starts.

I quickly cut him off with some half-baked excuse, confessing that, “Um! Actually, Firey! I’m so—so, so, so sorry for this but I, actually, well, I have to go. I have to, um. Talk to Pin about something. I just remembered. Can you save that for later?” A bead of sweat rolls down the nape of my neck, and then another down from my forehead to the curvature of my cheekbone. 

Sprinting like my life depends on it, I make it to where Pin’s standing and I pretend not to look at the hurt expression Firey wears. I’m such a coward.

Chapter Text

Like a cassette player, I play, rewind, and fast-forward all the things Golf Ball said after she rejected me.

In my mind, the whole scene feels detached from reality. I imagine it as one of Shaking Spear’s plays; a cruel one at that, because the saddest thing that might ever happen to you is having your heart broken—whether it be by someone else or society. 

I stand far away from my group. Fries, Puffball, and Bomby didn’t really understand my hands-off role when I presented it to them, considering I usually am so eager to participate in activities such as these. Nickel and Golf Ball understood in a way, though the former was more oblivious than the latter. In my wallowing, I’m left to my thoughts. They go like:

Act 1, scene 1.

I say, “Golf Ball, I might be in love with you.” Or something along those lines.

Golf Ball, the one who’s painfully considerate to her friends and her friends only, says—and I remember it exactly—“Tennis Ball, I’m sorry.” With a slight, hesitant pause, she continues on. “But I don’t—I don’t exactly like you in that way. And, I don’t think I ever will.”

I’m left with no words at all to say. My mouth is dry, yet my mind spins with tens of thousands of literary references and scholarly articles that have the slightest of relevance to this topic—my way to deal with having gone temporarily mute. I suppose it makes sense: when has she ever shown signs of liking me at all? It must’ve been my overactive, imaginative mind that misinterpreted all the things Golf Ball’s ever done for me—inappropriately traipsing the thin line between admiration and normal, friendly caring. 

Golf Ball, sensing my state of unrest, back-tracks immediately. “No, Tennis Ball, hm… It’s not you, or the fact that you might be unattractive— which you aren’t, I must say—I, simply, am incapable of feeling that way. I’ve never had romantic feelings for anyone before. But yeah— and I don’t… ah, think… um,” GB crosses her arms and looks at the ground, unable to admit whatever she wants to say to me.

I’m a fraction comforted by the thought that Golf Ball isn’t appalled by the idea of me actually liking her , however that is quickly overshadowed by my mourning of a relationship that could’ve been. In other words, I think about how if Golf Ball was just that bit different, maybe we could’ve had something. It’s quite selfish, true, and not at all considerate to the fact that Golf Ball probably wouldn't want that at all—but, it’s my brain, and GB won’t ever be able to know what goes on in it. Not that she’d ever be nosy enough to look inside. 

I look back at GB, and I notice she still looks uncomfortable. Of course I shouldn’t judge, considering I’m the one who was rejected. Really, I’m more mad at myself for not noticing sooner. In retrospect, I feel like I’ve been blind to any signs that she may not like me, and as her best friend, I should’ve paid more attention.

Finally, Golf Ball speaks up—her voice is wavering just a little bit, lacking the certainty and that bravado she usually has. “Well, I… don’t think I’ve ever really experienced romance before.” At first, her statement is a bit of a shock to me, but I look back again, and I start to understand some parts of her that would sometimes confuse me. 

What Golf Ball is saying just shows me that, even though I’ve been friends with her for so long, I actually don’t know her as well as I’d thought; I wish she’d told me about this, but I’m also honored to be hearing it now. It kind of dulls the pain of the rejection—if only very slightly—because it feels almost as if we’re exchanging secrets to strengthen our bond together. Despite it all, the corners of my lips upturn a little bit. 

Act 1, scene 2 in the Shaking Spearian tragedy of today is simply the present. It’s yet to be written.

I slowly phase back into reality, remembering the group project. I don’t even know if my sextet’s found a suitable plant yet, though I hope they have. I simply don’t have the energy right now.

Just then, Bomby turns to me, startling me. “Tennis Ball, can you vote on this plant,” He holds up what looks like to be a bright red flame lily (rare in this part of Goiky, meaning it’s a nice pick), “And this flower?” He holds in his other hand a simple marigold (pretty, but not as rare as the flame lily). “You’re the tie-breaker, so we kinda need your vote. But, I can’t vote because I found them both.” Bomby adds.

Despite not being in a social mood, although I hardly am, I manage to respond by saying, “Um… Well, I suppose the flame lily’s prettier. More rare, too—and, actually, you could probably classify it as exotic, if you wanted to. So, we’ll have more unique results if that’s our pick.” 

“Oh, ooogly moogly! I voted for that one as well! We’re so alike, TB.” Nickel chirps. “So did Fries. But, the girls voted for the marigold… very sad.” 

I wondered why Golf Ball would choose the more common and well-known flower, as she also wants to have interesting results for our project. However, considering the other events of today, I decided that probably wasn’t important to her right now. I sneak a glance at her. Thankfully, GB doesn’t notice.

“Guys, guys, can I give it in?” Puffball says after Nickel’s done talking. Bomby nods at her, and then she starts walking to the trip counselor, flame lily in hand. 

I watch PB hand it over absentmindedly. With this part of the project done, and no more directions for a while, I’ve absolutely nothing to do save for thinking. Except, thinking’s not the best thing to do in my situation. Especially since just letting my mind wander is unproductive and won’t help me any more with my problems. I sigh inwardly.

Because I’ve done enough walking for a while, I look to find an empty log (without any animal feces, because the majority of the fallen logs looked something like that) to sit on to relieve my legs. The only good spot remaining just happened to have Nickel and Fries sitting on it. How peaceful. Resigned, I go over to sit between them.

Nickel waves me over when he sees me. Fries, ever so nonchalant, acknowledges me with just a nod. I wave back, albeit awkwardly. I squeeze between them, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how close I have to be to sit here—our shoulders are actually touching. Unfortunately, there’s no other clean log in sight. 

“Hi, Tennis Ball!” Nickel wraps an arm around my shoulders, as if that didn’t violate my personal space by a lot. “Fries, my sonderful buddy—that’s a mix between wonderful and super , I’m really proud of the word—and I were just talking about you. How are you, by the way?”

“I wasn’t talking about you. I don’t really care—I only sat here because it’s the only free seat.” Fries butts in. 

“He cares. Anyway. I told Fries about you confessing, how’d that go?” My brain stops for a second. Nickel said what to Fries?

“Uh—can you possibly repeat that?” I say. Maybe I just didn’t hear him clearly. Nickel telling Fries all about my failed crush on Golf Ball is statistically improbable, right?

Nickel’s about to say something, but Fries cuts him in line, saying, “Oh, yeah. I guess Nickel did mention something going on between you and Golf Ball, but I don’t remember hearing anything about a confession.” 

Well, now I know I definitely heard him clearly, as even Fries knows what he's talking about. This is most likely the worst thing to happen to me right now—not only do I have to talk about what happened, I have to tell more people than I originally planned. It’s not like I don’t like Fries, since he’s nice enough. However, it’s the fact that I have to tell anyone. 

I go over the options of my next response in my head. Either I can brush it off, with a curt, “ nothing happened ” as in, nothing of importance happened since it isn’t important that they know; or I can fib a little with a “ it went fine ”. I can also outright lie and avoid the situation entirely by saying “ I didn’t confess at all ”. All of these possible replies aren’t great at all, because I can see Nickel (or even Fries, actually) still prying even after these responses. 

In the end, I go with “It went fine.” It’s naturally vague, short, and not a complete lie. The definition of ‘fine’ varies from person to person, after all. 

I fiddle with my hands, deciding on reciting three-digit prime numbers in my head to calm myself down. I notice how there’s a heavy silence between us, growing longer and larger as more and more time passes by. Nickel looks at me expectantly. I move on to four-digit prime numbers. 

Finally, Nickel speaks. “ So, is that all you wanted to say, or…? Schmogily , like, there has to be more to the story than that, TB!”

Fortunately, Fries is on my side, saying, “Let the man live, Nickel. You don’t need to hear everything.” It’s a very wise sentiment, which I agree with, one-hundred percent.

“Is this true, Tennis Ball? You don’t want to tell me? It’s fine, though. It’s your business, anyway, and I don’t need to be a part of it if you don’t want me to.” Nickel says, uncharacteristically serious. I suppose he can be thoughtful when he needs to, because otherwise Nickel would make for a very annoying person. 

I start to say something like, “ Yeah, I don’t really want to tell you just yet, ” then I pause. I mean, Nickel and Fries aren’t doing me any harm. It wouldn’t be bad to just tell them—maybe it’d help me get the rejection off my chest, and perhaps they could actually give me some good advice. Fries seems like he can be genuine, and Nickel wouldn’t give horrible advice, methinks. 

Completely switching my perspective, I actually say, “No—um… It’s fine. I’ll tell you.” 

“I confessed, obviously, and that part was fine. But, ah, the second part wasn’t as, um… fine. I got… I got rejected.” I manage to speak relatively easily: without stuttering too much and many “um”s. I’m kind of surprised, actually—I thought it would’ve come out harder. But, to be fair, I left out quite a few details. Hopefully this’ll satisfy Nickel and Fries for now. 

The two digest my words for a second. Fries places a hand under his chin, thinking—probably formulating what to say in response, if he’s even going to respond at all. Nickel’s eyes go wide, and a gasp escapes his lips. It’s a tad unnerving, seeing them react so subtly. Honestly, I thought it’d be a bigger deal, but I guess this is humbling me. 

“That’s rough.” Fries says suddenly. I wasn’t actually expecting him to speak, so I jump a little at the sound of his voice. “I mean, a solitary lifestyle’s better, though. You can’t get hurt that way.” That’s… sort of true. Although, I can’t ever imagine my life without Golf Ball—or anyone else I consider to be my friend, in that case. 

“Maybe, but, like, that’s super sad! Tennis Ball obviously really likes Golf Ball, and it must’ve sucked super-duper badly.” Nickel wails. “It’s alright, though. There’s always more deer in the wild you can catch with your headlights.” 

“I… suppose?” I say. Catching deer in headlights is an odd phrase, as is most of Nickel’s babble. I cannot deny it gets the message across, however.

“Don’t be too sad, TB. You have other friends.” Fries turns to me.

“Are you saying I’m your friend?”

“You’re pushing it.”

I smile a little. He’s right. I do have other friends. And, despite my failed confession and the obvious feelings I have for GB, I really do hope we are still friends.

Chapter Text

Tomorrow’s exam day—just great.

Honestly, exams themselves aren’t even that bad. Multiple choice is easy as hell if you just eliminate nonsensical answers—everyone and their mother knows this. The thing is, exam day means an entire day of taking boring tests that don’t even matter that much in the long run. Like, I already know fashion and modeling is my calling (Pencil swears I have the body for it, which is super sweet, babe), so how does getting good marks on an English test help me get into a good fashion college? Nerds in my class would say something like, oh, you need an above-average grade-point average to even be considered , but… Let’s be real here. Nothing academic in this godforsaken high school really matters, and I’ll die on that hill.

It’s currently period two—algebra class again. Mr. Four is merciless as ever, despite, like, us literally having a huge final English test tomorrow; he gave us an entire twelve-page packet to be handed in on Thursday . What kind of demon teacher does that? 

Today’s even worse because I don’t have Pencil by my side, even if she’d just mooch off my admittedly lazy answers. No, she’s not here since her spring break trip to Yoyleland’s running longer than usual. I mean, spring break ended on Sunday, and now it’s Tuesday. Two whole days where I have, like, absolutely nobody to talk to , in probably the worst class ever. The only time I actually have classes with the rest of FreeSmart is after lunch, but that doesn’t do anything to fight my boredom levels because those classes are bearable either way.

At this point, I’ve half a mind to start banging my head on the desk. I’d be way more productive mashing my skull in than working on this demonic nightmare that’s Algebra II. 

I glance up at the clock just to find out it’s only 9:03 a.m. Aka, about forty minutes of class left. Meaning, I’m most likely going to bite one of my fingers off before the class even ends.

Carefully, I reach into my bag and get my phone—hiding the motion by also grabbing my water bottle. Afterwards, I slide my phone underneath one page of the packet (it’s not visible to Mr. Four, but the light from the screen shines through the thin paper) and then hide the bulge by placing my water bottle in front. Better not waste this period being bored, because I am surely not getting any work done today. 

—-

With the power of a freshly-charged phone and the addictive nature of GoikTok, I’m able to make it through second period relatively unscathed. If you don’t think mental harm leaves scars, that is. Because, walking out of that lesson, I feel very emotionally hurt; the average person needs a certain level of dopamine to stay sane, and, like, second period does not provide any dopamine for that quota.

I sling my tote bag over my shoulder (normal backpacks are so out of style. Only normies wear them—not me, for sure) and start to head to History. Honestly, I’m still on the fence about whether or not I should skip today. I mean, there’s like no reason for me to go, since the lesson’s probably just going to be revision of the last few units we’ve done. Plus, my tablemates are just guys. We have nothing in common except for the school we go to. It sucks. Really badly.

I walk down the stairs to the first floor, and then I turn the corner into what is usually one of the busiest hallways. Though, today it’s eerily quiet. Mr. Four’s more punctual in letting us go, so I have to wade through all the people walking to get to Ms. Six’s class every day. Whereas today, I guess I packed awfully slowly, because there’s nobody here. It’s unnerving—which, yeah, is totally irrational to think, but I’m a social butterfly. I like when there’s people around, even if they’re all annoying.

Discreetly, in the case of a stray teacher walking by, I look in my tote bag to check the time. It’s 9:52 a.m., meaning I’m two minutes late if you don’t count the five-minute passing period. At this point, is it even worth it to go to class?

I’m about to go the other direction to the stairwell, mind made up. Third-floor bathroom’s the best to skip in, even if it’s the floor with the most commotion. I’m able to reach the second floor when a girl with flowing blue hair intercepts me.

“Hi, Match—can I call you Matchy?—glad to see you! I’ve been looking for you,” she says, voice sickeningly sweet and smooth like honey. 

I have to do a double take, because who is this girl and how does she know me? I examine her outfit closely, trying to see if anything clicks. She has a cropped navy-blue cardigan, ultramarine V-neck shirt, black, wide dress pants—the ones you’d wear to church or something—and silver jewelry everywhere (crescent moon earrings, star necklaces, rings with the different planets on them, etc.), though none of it is familiar at all. Her face, round and ghostly pale, doesn’t ring a bell either. If I don’t know her at all, then why does she know my name?

I’ve been staring for a little too long. I don’t want her to think I’m checking her out or anything, so I say, “Um, like, I think you got the wrong person. Who’re you?” 

“Ah, so it is you, Matchy!” She grins, yet the smile looks so sharp amongst her otherwise soft features. “I have a favor for you, if you wouldn’t mind me asking. How about we go to a more, ahem, secluded area—the stairwell isn’t the best place for a chat, don’t you think?” She clasps her hands together, taking a step back like she’s expecting me to follow her. As if!

“Yeah… I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So unless you have, I don’t know, an actual good reason for me, I don’t want to do your favor—”

“Ooh, I thought you’d say that. So, here: I know about your secret.” she interrupts. “Come along, then, won’t you? Third period doesn’t last forever, and I really need you to do this for me before fourth period.” Blue-Haired walks away from me to open the door to the second floor, holding it open so I can pass. However, I stay rooted to my spot.

“Uh huh. Like, what secret?” I play it cool, trying not to give her more information that she could use against me. Even though I don’t know the extent of what Blue-Haired is trying to make me do, I know it’s potentially dangerous. 

“Your relationship with Pencil, obviously. Really, don’t play dumb with me. Stupidity is so not your color.” she chides. “Rumors spread like wildfire, Match. Remember Leafy’s scandal?” 

My mouth goes dry. If she tells everyone about our relationship, Pencil's going to be outed as gay. I'm already out, but it's been honestly, horrible. Like, sure, there's some people who don't mind, but I have a sneaking feeling it's just because they "don't see me as gay". If I can pretend to fawn over guys like any other girl, then they're fine with that. But, if my relationship with Pencil gets out, then it's surely going to be worse since I can't hide my feelings. And, OMG, Pencil... what is she going to do? I don't even know how she feels about all of this. How did she find this out?

“Oh, so I am right. Of course I am.” She taps her foot on the ground. “Well, time’s running out, Matchy. Do we have a deal?” 

Do we have a deal? 

…

“Fine. I take your dumb deal. Let’s go.”

“Great choice!” 

I walk through the door, feeling instant regret as I do so. Who’s to say Blue-Haired wasn’t bluffing through her teeth saying all that? Like, I barely know her—why did I take her stupid offer? Inwardly, I know; my relationship with Pencil deserves to be hidden from everyone except us. And, if there’s even a slight chance that wouldn’t be the case… Like, even idiots would agree with me, because the choice is just that easy. Easy, but also super risky. I sigh.

Blue-Haired leads me to the absolute end of the hallway, where there’s only one other class. Then, she pulls keys out of her pocket to open the janitor’s closet—apparently this is her place, and now I wonder how she went about obtaining it. Inside, there isn’t a janitor’s cart or any brooms like you’d expect: instead, there’s two classroom-standard chairs and boxes strewn about almost everywhere. She sits down on the left chair, and motions for me to sit down on the right.

“So… like, what is all of this?” I start hesitantly. 

“My headquarters. But, if you’re lucky, you won’t be here often.” She picks up an orange box labeled ‘2025 Finals’ . “This is yours for the time being. Basically—”

“Um, excuse me? I don’t even know your name yet. At least tell me that before you make me do… whatever it is you want me to do, like…” I cut her off. This is actually me being strategic, since I can ask around for information about her using her name. Common sense.

“Hmm… alright. But do you deserve my name?” she jokes.

“Girl, come on.” I roll my eyes.

Blue-Haired (guess I’ll have to stop calling her that now) laughs at this like it’s the funniest joke ever. How fake. “Sure, sure. I’ll humor you.” she says, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. “It’s One. O-N-E, One.”

“Literally everyone knows how to spell your name, One.” 

“You’d be surprised.” One simply states. “Okay, now let me explain.” She hands the orange box to me, and I take it. I don’t open it just yet, however. Maybe it’s something crazy, like drugs—though, One doesn’t seem the type. But, who knows at this point? 

“I want you to deliver the three packets inside the box to the three different bathroom stalls scattered around the school. The locations are written on the packets. I have a few… recipients, or perhaps, clients who’d like these packets by today. Make sure you don’t get spotted.” One glues me to my chair with her steely gaze. Then, her gaze relaxes, taking on a more knowing, thoughtful look. “I’m sure you’ll do it.”

Three packets, but of what? I eye the box in my hands, unsure. It’s literally just a shoebox painted a bright tangerine orange, yet I’m so scared of what could be inside and what’d happen to me if I deliver them. This all screams sketchy. The one day I’m alone, I get intertwined with some loopy, back alleyway-type mission…. What the hell am I even doing?

“Can I open it?” I say at last.

“Mmm, sure. But, word of advice—you’re honestly better off not knowing.” she chuckles. So annoying, how all-knowing and omniscient One’s trying to play herself off as. What, does she think she’s better than me? I curse slightly under my breath. One smiles larger.   

After a few moments of me blankly staring at her, One fixes her cardigan sleeve, pressing down the wrinkles and turning her bracelets back up to show the charms. She gels back her bangs with a bit of spit (ew! Like, just use real hair gel) and pushes her pant legs down. “Well? Aren’t you going to go now? I do have other clientele to attend to,” One snarks.

“Well, of course I was going to go, One. I do have other things to attend to, too,” I say, imitating her tone of voice. One’s fake smile steers closer to a frown. The corners of her lips perk back up not long after she realizes this.

I take the packets out from the box, and stuff them in my tote bag at random, not caring whether or not the edges are rumpled or not. I take note of how the packets are sealed in individual large envelopes—the big yellow-orange ones with metal clasps tying them together. Maybe that means something. I don’t know, though, because I don’t usually get caught in weird school gangs.

Getting up from my chair, I toss the box back at One, who yelps something like, “Rude!” Luckily, I’ve mastered the art of tuning people out by now. I open the door and leave it wide open, leaving One to close the door herself. It’s the little things, you know?

When her janitor-closet-turned-gang-headquarters is completely out of view, I take the three envelopes out in the middle of the hallway. Then, I remember her clear words not to get caught, so I quickly rush into the bathroom; instead of using my ID to swipe into the bathroom, I jimmy the lock open with a bobby pin. It’s way cooler than being a normal student who blindly follows school rules, and it’s not because I actually forgot where I last put my school ID.

I sit on top of the closed toilet cover, making sure not to let my legs show through the gap on the door. Methodically, I open the first packet that I find, taking extra care not to let anything show that the packet was tampered with. I slide the paper out, and smoothen out the edges.

To my absolute surprise, the heading, bold in a large font, reads, “2025 English Language Arts Test, Form A, Answer Key." Then, I flip to a random page, and guess what I find? “2025 English Language Arts Test, Form B, Answer Key.”

Oh, God. This is actually worse than I thought. Drugs, honestly, I wouldn’t mind as much delivering. Because, I’m not the one getting high—so, who cares? Let them waste away their life as much as they want, just as long as I’m not invited to the marijuana party. But, delivering answers? I could get expelled for sharing answers as large as these! That means probably a week of just staying at home; which, like, for anyone else, would be super fun, but… news flash! My parents absolutely suck. Also, also, also, Pencil and the rest of FreeSmart would still be in school, so I wouldn’t even get to hang out with them. 

So, what am I going to do now? I slide the paper back into the packet with just as much precision as I used earlier. Closing the clasps, I practically toss the envelope in my tote bag. I place my head in my hands, feeling the urge to cry. 

All of this just because One knows how to blackmail. All of this because I don’t ever want our relationship to be public without both of our consent. All of this because my reputation could potentially be scarred beyond repair. God dammit. 

I press my palms harder in my eyes, suppressing tears that dare to leak out. A low sob spills from my mouth, yet it’s so quiet compared to my thoughts. 

Then, just as quickly as I started crying, I mentally slap myself in the face. What am I doing? Am I crying over One and her ridiculous schemes? I’m literally stronger than this. Like, delivering answers? Psh, that’s nothing. Even if I might be lazy, and cowardly, and so, so, exhausted, I think I can manage flushing these packets down the toilet. After ripping them to pieces, that is. 

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I take the packets out and rip them to shreds. Since each envelope is only about four papers thick, it’s not hard at all. It’s really satisfying, seeing the teensy-tiny pieces of paper drop down into the toilet water and get drenched. Sure, sometimes droplets of toilet water bounce up and it’s, like, really disgusting , but my gag reflex doesn’t care today. I’m just too overjoyed with the thought of destruction. It’s for the greater good, anyway. 

I tear the envelopes one by one afterwards, keeping the metal bits to make sure the toilet doesn’t clog. Then, I flush the toilet, wiping away all the evidence—unless, One’s gang would like to do a deep-dive into the sewage system and stitch all of the pieces of paper back together bit by bit. Hah, that’d be a funny reality.

Exiting the bathroom stall, I pull out my phone. 

—-

💖matcheesymonster

omg pencepence u wont believe the story im abt 2 tell u tmrw

its gen so crazy

—-

I don’t expect Pencil to text back. Afterall, the times in Yoyleland are completely different from the ones in Southern Goiky—her part of Yoyleland, Yoyle City, is six hours behind Southern Goiky’s time. But, she’s for sure going to text up a storm when she wakes up.

—-

In Finance class, I’m reminded of the whole ordeal and then I start laughing again. 

“What’s so funny, Match?” Book says innocently. 

“Just something I did today.” I pause for a second, thinking. “Hey, Book, you wouldn’t, like, happen to know who One is, right? I passed by her today, and we had a whole thing. Don’t worry, ‘cuz I obviously came out on top.”

Book smiles. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Well, One’s a transfer student, I believe. I had to be her tour guide, but she seems a bit shady to me.”

“Yeah. She’s definitely very shady.”