"What's with the faces?"

After a long day of running and hitting Minho for being annoying a lot–

("Adding my last name to your ridiculous flirt comments will not make it less flirty."

"It will, Blake. It will.")

–I join the rest of our friends. Lyndon seems sad, maybe even disappointed, and Newt's jaw is tight.

Thomas is interacting with Teresa, which I am happy about. I can't lie, it's too cute watching him talk to her.

"I accidentally ruined her shirt and then she ran away angry but I didn't mean to ruin her shirt, I just zoned out and accidentally pressed the brush against the material too hard and then she got angry– wait, I said that already. But it was an accident!"

Newt buries his head in his hands, frustrated. "Come on, Lynn. Don't blame yourself. I'm happy she left. You didn't do it on purpose and it was weird of her to run off."

At Lynn, my brother's face does light up, but only a little bit. "Maybe she was awkward because she finds it hard to make friends."

"Yeah, no."

My eyebrows scrunch along with my nose. "Who exactly are we talking ab–"

"Ohh, you must be Lelia!" There's an excited voice by my side before two arms wrap around me and I'm somewhat suffocating. If Minho's hair gel was bad, then this girl's perfume is absolutely horrible.

I push her off me– no offense, because I don't do it in the most harsh and rude way, but I don't always enjoy people's touch like this. Certainly not from strangers or people who cosplay vanilla with their smell.

I'm staring at a girl. The ends of her hair have been dyed purple, the rest is a tint darker blonde than mine. Freckles, a shell necklace, tons of bracelets on her arms– almost too much, but overall, pretty.

"Uhm, hi." I manage a nod.

If this is the girl Lyndon was talking about, I don't like her.

I don't like people who hurt Lyndon.

My eyes squint. "Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry!" She shakes my hand. "It's Noelle. I didn't get your name wrong, right? Lyndon said you have blonde hair, like him. Said he doesn't look that much like you, but I think if your nose would've been curved differently, you'd look even more alike."

My frown deepens. Was that meant offensively?

"Yeah, I'm Lelia," I say, unsure. "Nice to meet you, I guess."

Noelle turns to Lyndon without replying. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I don't mind if there's a stain. I just overreacted for a second."

As I sit down, Newt mumbles to me, "Yeah, that she for sure did."

I can't hold back a laugh.

And just like that, Noelle's head snaps toward us. "What's so funny?" Before I can even say it's none of her business, she continues, "Did Newt say something? Do you agree, Lelia? That gay men are–"

"Hello, people!"

For once, I am grateful Minho makes dramatic entries.

My eyes follow him as he, as always, sits down across from me. His hair is still damp from a shower. Even on his skin, the sun has created freckles and he's getting more tanned than he already was.

Oh, man. He's wearing a compression shirt.

A black one.

A. Black. Compression. Shirt.

I try not to stare, but it's hard not to. So I take one glance down, and then realize his body is quite impressive for a— wait, how old is he?—teenager. His waist is small, but his chest and arms above that are buff, and—

Then I'm looking at Noelle again, because her laughs have disturbed my peace.

Lyndon may give people chances, but I don't like her. First of all, she openly told me Newt's gay while I didn't even know that and had no idea if he even wanted her to mention that, and she's... annoying. The truth hurts.

And she made Lyndon panic, and somehow managed Newt, a kind guy, to dislike her. I mean, girls support girls for sure, but not always.

She covers her mouth with a hand as she continues laughing, sliding onto the bench next to Lyndon.

"Now do you want to tell us what's so funny?"

"Lelia!" She gasps between her sounds. "The way you were basically eye-fucking him! The look on your face— it'll be burned on retina. You know those thoughts that make you laugh, but people stare at you because you're a clown for randomly laughing—"

My mouth has dropped open in the meanwhile. How many lists of reasons to dislike her am I gonna make today?

One, I wasn't 'eye-fucking' him. I'll admit that I was staring, but that's it.

Two, did she really need to call it out like that?

Three, I want to smash her head in the spaghetti. That might get burned on my retina.

I think that if she would've put it in other words, Minho might've grinned and went along, but he doesn't. He stares at her, looks at Newt, who pulls a certain face, and then he nods in an understanding way.

Translation:

Am I supposed to like this girl?

No, you're not.

Okay, got it.

"Why are you even here?" I blurt out. "With us?"

She smiles widely. "Lyndon said we could be friends, and he thought I'd like you and what were the other girls' names? Oh, yes, Newt's sister, and Harriet and Teresa."

"Since when am I labeled Newt's sister? My parents gave me a name."

"Right. Sorry. Sofia, right?"

"Sonya."

"Oh, sorry." She lets out another laugh.

"Hey, Winston?" Newt elbows the boy in the side to get his attention. "What do you recall a dying pig sounds like?"

Okay, that was very mean. He didn't say it super loud, but it was mean.

Yet I don't know what else this girl did when I wasn't there, so maybe Newt has valid reasons.

"He's jealous," Minho explains under his breath, for my ears only. I don't remember saying any thing other loud, but he's an observer, so sure he'll eventually recognize my face expressions.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Add that jealousy to the fact she's being annoying to him about his sexuality, 'cause he explained me that an hour ago, and he now hates her."

I hum. "Alright. Valid, I think. But it'll be sad to say these mean things to her. So don't do that."

"What! Blake the grump has got a warm heart?" He gasps dramatically. His hands clutch to his chest. "Ahw!"

I roll my eyes. "In some ways, it would also be sad to humiliate her, because I maybe she really just flops out bad things."

"—but if we take a picture, I'm already gonna apologize for ruining it—"

I catch those words and know enough. "Never mind."

Minho laughs. His eyes squint. Dimples appear. Those perfect teeth get revealed. I shouldn't, but I do get butterflies.

Only because he has an amazing smile, alright?

"Hey, we gotta finish our list soon," I say, quickly changing the subject. "Let's volunteer to do a chore now. We'll ask some people if they want to join a basketball game tomorrow, and we lose. Yeah?"

He thinks about it for a second. Then nods. "Okay, sure."

"Where do you two think you're going then?" Newt interrupts before we have the chance to leave.

"We're gonna do a chore for Janson!" Minho says, excessively excited. "So much fun. See you!"

He pulls my arm and rushes away fast enough for no one to follow us, which I am grateful for. On the other side, I groan and rub my arm. "No need to be that aggressive."

"Oh. Sorry." His expression of sorrow says enough to make me believe him. Then the nice moment is over, and we go back to scowling.

"This is the worst idea ever. We're really just gonna knock— okay, yup."

Minho already knocked.

The door opens only a second after he did, and Janson appears. He's actually wearing a T-Shirt and his hair is messier than normally; probably because of the heat. He sighs. "Yes?"

"Janson!" Minho puts on a big smile. "Lelia and I were wondering if there were any chores we could do!

"Yes!" I nod heavily. "We decided to change our motives and the way we work. This year, we're gonna turn into new people."

"No more misbehaving."

Janson trails his eyes over us in suspicion. "Last time he did a chore for me," he points at Minho, "he scrubbed my car with a scouring pad. Guess how that ended."

"I was eleven!"

Okay, Janson clearly never let him do chores again.

"Tell us what to do," I plead.

"If I tell you to clean my office, I doubt much cleaning will be done."

Minho pouts (dramatically). "How so?"

I might as well add dramatically to every single thing he does.

"You wouldn't be the firsts to make out. In. My. Freaking. Office."

Minho and I share a glance, and my whole face grows bright red at the thought. "Ew, no!"

"Never, ever!"

"Trust us, Janson. Never."

He groans as he looks at us another time. "Fine. But if one thing goes wrong, both of you will be send to the Shack immediately. Minho, you've got plenty of warnings before. Lelia, you know we check what's in your bags."

"I bleed heavily," I say. It's the first thing that comes to mind. "I need a lot of tampons. I'm gonna be here for fifteen weeks!"

"Yeah, sure." He turns back to Minho. "Got that?"

"Yup. Noted. So... what can we do?"

"Clean my office."

"Ah, simple—"

"That another kid threw toilet paper in, smeared toothpaste on the walls. And he messed my papers up."