YWN suspects (written in confusion and what looks to be crappy handwriting so far because I'm not in the mood to be beautiful).

1. Amparo Cotton - because she seems to just hate me (I don't have her phone number).

2. Jessica Lupinacci - because she seems to know everything. She's also a journalist (I don't have her number, either).

3. Ashton Milworth - because I just don't like him (I definitely don't have his phone number).

4. Jun, Fleur and Frankie - because I don't know! (Their phone numbers exist on my phone—RIP—only in my dreams).

"I am so going to murder you, Jessica!"

Bella's fists were balled at her sides, and she looked like she could defeat anyone and anything that stood in her way as she made her way to the cafeteria—where she knew Jessica was.

She kicked the cafeteria door open for dramatic effect, then made her way to the table surrounded by red T-shirt-wearing girls.

"Jessica!" she exclaimed, gaining the attention of everyone, and all the girls at the table turned to her. "What is your problem? What the hell is wrong with you? What do you want?"

Jessica stared at her like she was speaking gibberish, then said, "What do you mean?"

"You're asking me what I mean? You just seriously asked me what I mean?"

A redhead sighed, looking uninterested, then said in a bored voice, "Um, we're trying to have an important meeting here. So please take whatever problem you have back to your locker."

"I was talking to Jessica," Bella fired back immediately, then turned back to the blonde. "You followed me on Friday, took a photo of Travon and I, then posted that I'm a player. Do you have any idea what it felt like reading all those comments and nursing anger for two whole days?" Bella couldn't get her mind off the post all weekend.

Jessica laughed, making Bella angrier. "Okay, first off, I didn't follow you on Friday, and I definitely didn't take the photo of you two. I admit to posting it, but that's it. And, I know what it feels like to read comments and nurse anger for two whole days."

"Who took the photo?" Bella asked, glaring daggers at her.

"Cami did." She gestured to the girl with a baby face and curly jet black hair beside her. "She was just walking past when she saw you. By the way, we're journalists—it's our job to report."

Bella slammed her palms down on the table, sending a stinging sensation through them and causing a few of the girls to flinch. It was a table for four, but they had added six chairs to make it suitable for ten. "Don't give me that baloney! My personal life doesn't concern you; your journalism doesn't have anything to do with it. You're not the paparazzi. And, for your information, Travon and I are friends."

"But you guys wrote your ship name on the love wall," Cami said in a tiny voice, pushing her glasses further up her small nose, and Bella leaned closer to her.

"It's a friendship name, okay?"

"That doesn't make sense."

Bella was about retorting when a voice came from behind them. "Now I know why you guys are called Parrots."

Bella turned around and saw Amora Belle walking towards them from the vending machine, a bag of chips in her hand. She was dressed kind of like a hip hop dancer.

"You guys never mind your business, talking everywhere like your voice box's broken or you have a leaky pipe in your throat." She stopped beside Bella, resting all her weight on one hip and hooking her thumb around the only strap of her backpack she slung over her shoulder. She remained poker-faced as she waited for a reaction. When no one said anything, she said, "Oh, stop looking at me like loaves of garbage bread, all of you.

"Yes, I walked over here from," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder, "there to talk to you guys, because I'm sick of opening my social media everyday and seeing your senseless posts. On Valentine's day, it was a photo of the only freshman who didn't get a present. Do you know how embarrassing it was for her? Not like I care, but let's be sensible. You guys just don't know what to do with your time, and you waste the time of people who like your posts just because you're the Parrots and you're journalists."

Some speech, Bella thought.

"You guys need to stop this nonsense, okay? Even I was annoyed when I saw the post on Bella and Travon. Even if they were on a romantic date, how's it your business, Lupinacci?"

Exactly my point, Bella wanted to say, but held her tongue.

Jessica rose to her feet, then went to stand in front of Amora. The redhead behind her folded her arms and rolled her eyes, obviously pissed off at the interruption, but didn't say anything. "You don't have any right to question what we do, Amora. It's none of your business."

"I'm just saying. Back off, you're in my face," she said, pushing Jessica back a little. "Maybe you'd have better stories to report when you actually work for them. Come on, Bella."

Amora turned to leave, but Bella stood rooted to her spot, wondering if she heard right. First, Amora supported her. Then she told her to come on—to leave with her.

"Bella," she called, looking back at her. When Bella looked at her, she gestured to the door, and that was when she knew she heard right.

She followed behind the girl who was supposed to be her number two archenemy, wondering what was going on.

Immediately they walked through the door, she turned to face her. "Okay, what just happened in there?"

Amora rolled her eyes. "Why is it always surprising when I do something nice? Yes, I supported you, okay?"

"But why? I mean, on the first day of school and practically since the first time we met, you—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I've been mean. But let's face it, I was only acting that way 'cause I felt like I had to."

"You had to?"

Amora sighed. "God, I hate this mushy stuff," she mumbled, then said in a louder voice, "I felt bad Stephanie didn't include me in her clique and wondered why. I thought I wasn't good enough, so the only way I could deal with it was to be mean to you—combined with my jealous bones."

Jealous bones? "So you knew."

"Of course I knew. I also knew you were an awesome person and I never stopped wondering how—since freshman year. Being mean was the only way I could cope, and I thought if I made you guys think I didn't care, it would make me feel better. But, after Stephanie left, I started seeing you for you and I realized it was her I didn't like, not you. I tried talking to you at the sleepover, but..." She shrugged.

Bella looked shocked beyond repair. Amora's confession was really something to digest. "So what now?" she asked.

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"That you're calling a truce?"

Amora didn't say anything, only focused her gaze on the floor.

"No way!" Bella exclaimed.

"Don't ruin this for me," Amora mumbled, and Bella laughed. "Heaven forbid people actually think I like you." The smile playing on her lips betrayed her words, and Bella just watched her, pleased.

"You're really bad at this, aren't you?"

Amora shook her head and laughed a little. "I guess."

"Well then," Bella stretched an arm to her, "truce."

Amora took no time in shaking her hand. "Truce." After they parted hands, she warned, "Don't tell anyone about this and damage my reputation, okay?"

"You should be more bothered about the Parrot girls. For all we know, they could be watching us right now."

"Yeah, you're right. So I'll see you around?"

"Sure... and I hope you mean this, Amora."

"Of course. You can't say Bella without saying Belle." With that, she walked away, leaving Bella in another state of confusion.

An arm slung over her shoulders from behind, and she jumped before recognizing the owner's smell.

"Come on, your locker's this way," Beau said, steering her away from the cafeteria door.

"Were you watching me?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows at him.

"I wasn't. I just saw you standing there. You really need to stop zoning out like that."

She stared up at him, her eyes tracing over his jaw, and he looked down at her, smiling, then winked. She playfully elbowed him in the ribs, and he laughed.

"So," he started, "you and Travon, huh?"

She almost choked on oxygen at the sudden question. "H-how'd you know? I mean, not like anything's going on, but... how'd you know?"

His smile didn't drop. "It's senior year—nothing's secret."

Bella held his hand, using it to pull his arm further down her shoulder. "It's nothing. We just went out for ice cream. I had a sundae." She felt the need to explain things, not wanting him to have the wrong idea.

"Was it good?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

Beau still smiled, but Bella was thinking about what to say to assure him that whatever was going on with her and Travon was nothing serious.

"Why are you smiling like that?" was what she settled for after a few seconds of thinking, and he glanced down at her.

"Nothing. I just find it interesting."

"Why?"

"Why are you so bothered about it? It's just a smile." Then, quietly, he said, "By the way, I'm just teasing you."

It's you I like that way, you know that, right? she was about saying, but stopped herself at the right time. She didn't want to come off as too attached or desperate at the wrong time.

They got to her locker and she oddly felt embarrassed at what she was thinking. She let her hair cover a part of her face and prayed it hid some of the mortification, too.

Beau suddenly tapped his pocket, and his expression changed. "Shoot, Fleur."

"What's wrong?"

He looked at Bella. "My sister has my phone again, I think. She's not gonna give it back to me."

"Why not? Is it a sibling thing?"

He looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. "No. I should go talk to her. I'll see you later?"

"Are you okay?" she dared to ask. Something in the air had shifted.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He gave her a quick tight-squeeze hug, then left.

His cologne lingered, and she took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, trying to assure herself that Beau was fine. Why wouldn't he be?

* * *

Viola DelMane was beginning to think she was an idiot.

She stood in front of an apartment building she had never been to, staring into her phone, at the text she sent five minutes ago.

Marigold Lau supposedly lived here, but now that she was standing in front of the building, Viola was beginning to rethink her decision.

In a desperate need for friendship, she had allowed herself to act on an impulse, and now she was sure she was lost—literally.

When Marigold sent her her address the previous evening, she was so happy she would finally get to meet her. She had the feeling it would be the start of something, but now she wasn't sure what to think. She didn't even tell her mom she was coming here.

Hey. I think I'm standing outside your building, but I'm not sure. I followed the directions, though.

The reason Marigold wasn't replying was beyond her, and she felt her eyes sting. Tears were threatening to spill out, and she just stood there in a pair of jean pants and a deep blue top she made herself the previous week, her hair moving in the breeze.

She looked into her phone again, thinking about starting the long walk home—after she figured out how to use Google Maps—and a car approached her. She didn't pay much attention to know that she knew the driver, but the car slowed when it got to her, causing her head to snap up.

Jun pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, not moving her free hand from the steering wheel as she looked funnily at Viola.

Viola felt self-conscious and looked away.

"Hey. Viola, right?" Jun asked after a while, but Viola only looked around, not responding. Jun stared at her for a few more seconds, then, when she saw that she wasn't going to speak anytime soon, asked, "What are you doing here? Do you need a ride?"

"I—I came to see a friend."

"So... are you okay? You look like you're about to cry." The way Jun was talking to her made her feel tiny, like she was an injured bird, or a lost puppy.

"No." She finally looked at her. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"O... kay. Do you need a ride, then?"

Viola stared at her, visibly hesitant. This was the first time they were having a conversation after the sleepover, and she had trouble trusting people, so she couldn't make up her mind. It wasn't that she thought Jun would kidnap her and drive to the desert—no. She knew that she loved conversations, and that was where the problem lay. What if she asked a question she had to answer in her vulnerability? What if—

Jun lifted an eyebrow at her, and Viola sighed before saying, "Okay."

Jun smiled. "Hop on in, then."

Viola looked at the dark screen of her phone, expecting to see it lit up by a text, then walked around the car to the passenger's side, disappointed.

Jun looked in the side view mirror at herself, and the corner of her lips turned upwards mischievously just as Viola opened the door and got in.

"Thanks," Viola said, setting her backpack down.

Jun's smile remained, but Viola didn't notice. "No problem." Then in a lower voice, she added, "No problem at all."