Both the kitten and my sister were fine. Better than fine, actually – Maddie's scratch had been grossly exaggerated, and the kitten was unharmed, although it did wake up half the neighborhood once the firefighters succeeded in pulling it out. Its pathetic hunger cries had tugged at our heartstrings, inspiring us to sacrifice some weird, tasteless salmon pâté our mom liked to eat for breakfast. It devoured the entire contents of the tube and then proceeded to beg for more, even though the whole portion probably equated to a third of its weight.

"We're not keeping it," I warned Maddie once Grace and her brothers had left. "We're taking it to the shelter first thing in the morning."

"But it's so cute," Maddie whined, stroking the baby animal and giving me her best puppy eyes. Looking at the wobbly little tuxedo kitten, I found myself agreeing.

And so the cat had stayed the night. Mom didn't even realize we had a guest over – it spent the night in Maddie's room, and after making us promise we would visit a vet later, Mrs. Sánchez agreed to take care of the critter while we were in school. I had no idea how this was going to fly with Mom, who had reiterated the no-pets rule about a hundred times, but the morning events managed to push the thoughts of the cat completely out of my head.

Just as Grace had predicted, the Empire had indeed struck back, announcing a three-day suspension for anyone who dared to break the dress code rules. The news was received with groans and a number of spirited complaints, but Jeffrey refused to budge. Rather than slackening the rules, he had sent a dozen students home before the lunch break.

"Do you think Lynch is making us read 'The Scarlet Letter' on purpose?" I asked Julia as we entered the school library.

The smell of old books permeated the air, marking the exact moment we crossed the threshold. Nobody seemed bothered by it – in fact, I could have sworn the rich scent helped the cramming students focus better. The mid-day sunlight colored the tiny dust particles that floated above everyone's heads, giving the spacious room a sort of magical aura.

"Why?" Julia yawned, stretching her taut muscles. I suspected she had spent the entire night practicing drawing vegetables again, but I decided against inquiring about it.

"Well, spoiler alert—"

"Liz. I'm writing my essay based on CliffsNotes," she noted in a singsong voice. "Do you really think I care about spoilers?"

"Fine. So, the main character sleeps with a guy who's not her husband, gets pregnant, and then has to wear an enormous red A which is sewn on her clothes." She raised an eyebrow, so I spared her the effort of stressing her vocal folds. "The 'A' stood for 'adultery'. I bet Jeffrey is planning to make us wear D's for Dress Code."

"Damn, I wish," she looked through the window almost wistfully. "Just imagine everyone wearing shorts and screaming at Jeffrey, 'Give me the D! Give me the D!'"

I choked on the air and chortled. A senior gave us a dirty look, and I noticed him scouting the room for the absent librarian before returning to his studying material.

"Why did you do that?" I groaned. "Now I'll be thinking of Jeffrey's... assets while reading the book."

She snorted. "Assets, you say?"

I slapped her forearm. "You're horrible! Eww!"

"Shh," the serious guy hushed us, his thick eyebrows furrowing so much that they looked like two fluffy caterpillars fighting. He took a sip of his effervescent mineral water, his beady eyes challenging me until I eventually relented.

"So if you don't plan on reading the novel," I said to Julia in a much quieter voice, "Why are you borrowing a copy?"

Having located the G-H row at last, I victoriously pointed the sign out to her. We entered the illuminated labyrinth, finally safe from the creeper.

"Because everyone else has been doing the same crap for years. So I'll read the CliffsNotes, and then check out several random paragraphs in the book and quote something that's not online. Ta-dah. I look like a diligent student with five times less effort."

"Jesus, Julia," I surmised, "you're, like, more efficient than Grace, and I don't say that lightly."

Her mood instantly dimmed at the mention of her name. "Sure, I guess."

I paused for a second, trying to squish the urge to wipe off the thick dust from the shelves in front of us. The last thing I needed was to start sneezing like a hay-fever victim.

"Jules, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course," she said in a deadpan voice. She'd never been one for showing affection or feelings of any kind. As a matter of fact, supporting LGBTQA+ rights had been the most passionate I had ever seen her, and Jeffrey's excessive dress code rules didn't deter her enthusiasm, stimulating her creativity instead. Even now she wore a black t-shirt depicting a stick figure gazing at a colorful rainbow, cleverly titled 'It's nice to come out sometimes'.

Best friends shouldn't cajole each other into telling the truth. That was especially true with tight groups like ours. But if two of the members conveniently shut up like a clam whenever we mentioned the other, what was I supposed to do? I simply had to take some drastic measures.

"Well, I also love Grace. I love you both equally. So, will one of you tell me what happened at that party? Because you were fine before, and then—"

"Found them," Julia took the remaining two copies of 'The Scarlet Letter' and slammed one against my chest. "I'll go sign this one out. See you in Bio."

She dashed out the library, a truly foreseeable achievement for someone with such elongated legs, leaving me flabbergasted and somewhat hurt. Both emotionally and physically, mind you – my boobs felt a bit sore from the hardback's impact. I was still looking after her receding form when a tiny, disembodied voice spoke up behind my back.

"Bloody hell, was that the last one?" I turned around just in time to see Mel's face crumple in disappointment.

"You can take it," I shrugged and offered her the book, now evoking the expression of jubilant surprise. It was almost like watching the sock and buskin masks.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. I'll bug Julia. She won't be using hers for too long."

She smiled in gratitude and put the novel above the one she was already hugging. "Brilliant. You're a savior."

"No biggie. What's that one?" I nudged my chin at the peanut-colored cover, and she blushed a little before taking it out. She turned the book toward me so I could examine it properly.

"It's a grammar textbook on the Navajo language. I've been using it together with the Duolingo app to learn the basics."

"Really?" my eyebrows rose in interest. "Are you learning it for fun or?"

"My mom's Native American, born on the Navajo Nation," she cleared her throat, shuffling her feet. "She moved to Britain when she met my dad, and we moved back here after their divorce so I could get the citizenship. So now I'm trying to learn as much as possible so I can surprise her on her birthday."

"That's amazing," I beamed at her. "I had no idea."

"Me neither until two years ago. She never told me," Mel confessed. "So I just tiptoe around the subject. Honestly, I'm hoping this could help us talk more."

"Hey, I'm sure it will," I encouraged her. "I mean, you're trying your best and showing some effort. She has to appreciate it."

The irritating guy poked his head from the other side of the row, glaring at me for not keeping my voice down. I rolled my eyes and signaled Mel to come with me to the checkout counter, and she happily obliged.

"In theory, yeah. But you see, you're only the second person I told this. I told Manuel, who was all about 'accept your culture and demand answers', but," she bit her lower lip, "it's not so easy, init? I spent most of my life thinking I was mixed, wondering why it was so bloody hard to find a good foundation. And then on top of the divorce and the two of us moving to another continent, she hits me with this. Like she's informing me about the weather. What a load of bollocks," she sighed. The librarian at last showed up, so Mel handed her the novel and gave me an apologetic grimace. "Sorry for dumping this all on you."

"Why? I'm glad you told me. And I get what you mean. My mom's side of the family is German, and she never talks about it. We have grandparents in Berlin that my sister and I have never even met, and when I ask her what happened, she just changes the subject. And my dad is..." I stopped myself. Thinking about what he had done felt like a hedgehog got lodged in my throat. "Well, let's just say he's not exactly present."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she touched my forearm consolingly, then retracted it as if she had stepped out of line. "If you ever wanna have a chinwag, I'll lend an ear."

"Umm," I muttered as I watched her put the book in her pink handbag, "what's a chinwag?"

"A chat," Mel clarified. "You know how you nod all the time when talking to your mates? Like wagging a tail, but you're wagging a chin?"

I stifled a laugh, refraining myself from showing a middle finger to the annoying guy as we left the library. "Sure. I'll let you know."

"Great. Now that we're all chummy," she wiggled her eyebrows, "I've gotta ask. What's up with you and Aiden? Heard you went on a date last night."

I groaned. "Please don't tell me the whole school knows."

"Not at all. He told Manuel this morning. Said you ditched him and kept his clothes after the party."

Shoot. I had completely forgotten about that damn t-shirt.

"I mean, he was having a laugh," she raised her hands in defense when I didn't say anything. "But I reckon he believes you're not actually into him."

Was I into Aiden? Sure, I liked him. Sure, the sight of him made my stomach smoke like a butter-churning factory. But the more I got to know him, the more confused I became. All the romantic comedies I had seen promised me passion, mind-losing devotion, guys who ran after you through the dreaded airport security and declared their feelings instead of luggage, who crafted poetic lines in front of hope-deprived passengers that found your love story the best thing since sliced bread. And yeah, Aiden was handsome, popular, and would probably go on and do great things in his life, but he had also taken me to the Waffle House on our first date and sputtered some cheesy nonsense which made me want to facepalm right into my cheese-filled Texas Melt.

So, did I want Aiden to be my boyfriend?

The jury was still out on that one.

"I was dealing with something," I sighed instead, letting the storm of thoughts evaporate into the vastness of my mind. "Baby sister emergency and all."

"Oh, sure. Well, perhaps it'd be good to text him? I think he also got detention because of the whole dress code video fiasco." She glanced at me and misinterpreted the sour look on my face. "Blimey, am I being nosy now?"

"No, it's okay," I nodded, already looking for my Film Production classroom. "Maybe you're right. I should send him a text later."

⁂

"Maddie? Can you explain this?" I picked up the chewed-up phone charger and glared at the beast responsible for the damage. Maddie lifted the culprit, but instead of staying put in her arms, he tried to clamber up her shoulder to look inside her ear canal.

"He's just playful!" she exclaimed, then grimaced when his claw scratched her earlobe. She slowly put him down and started tickling his belly, avoiding his knifelike little teeth. "He probably misses his siblings."

The vet had provided us with a detailed report – the kitten was male, perfectly healthy, slightly underweight, approximately seven weeks old, and most likely abandoned by his mother. How he had gotten in a drain pipe was beyond us, but seeing he trusted humans, the most feasible scenario was that he was searching for food in all the wrong places. All three of us gushed about his charcoal black coat and his white paws and belly, and I half-expected him to stand up on his hind legs and start conducting an orchestra.

"Well, I'm missing my phone charger," I hissed now as I plugged it in. Just as I suspected, it was totally dead, and my battery stubbornly remained at the same percentage.

"Can you get a new one?"

"Tomorrow, yes. But what should I do now?" I glowered at the imprudent bastard like I wanted him to apologize.

The cat was adorable, sure, but I had to detach myself emotionally. After all, as soon as Mom learned about his existence, he was bound to be sent to another home or a shelter. She loved her handpicked furniture far too much to expose it to sharp, retractable claws. Unfortunately, Maddie was already in love with the kitten, so that pretty much complicated the matter.

At least she hadn't named him yet. When that happened, I knew it would be impossible to tear them apart without shedding some tears.

"I decided to call him Berlioz," she told me, tantalizing him with a small piece of kibble. "He looks like the one from the Aristocats, right?"

I sighed and crouched down to pet him, knowing that the battle had been lost. "He does. Except for his paws."

She was no longer listening to me. As the kitten tried to chew the brownish drop, Maddie produced a small toy mouse we had bought at a local pet shop, along with some food and a small litterbox.

"Come on, Berlioz! Fetch it!"

She threw the mouse a few inches away, and the cat leaped on it like a clumsy panther, tripping over its rickety feet.

I took out my phone, noting the battery was barely at forty percent. The treacherous device was not going to survive until the morning – it usually died when it reached ten percent or so. I seriously needed to buy a new one, so maybe Berlioz had actually done me a favor.

Sadly, he couldn't text Aiden instead of me.

After I opened the Contacts list, I scrolled until I found the number I was looking for. My index finger tapped on the Messages app, and I absentmindedly caressed the smooth glass, still not sure what I intended to say. Mel was right – it did look like I was ditching him. Was it my turn to suggest another date? Show him that you could have much better dates in Phoenix than leading awkward conversations in a family-oriented diner?

Liz: Hi

Crap. I had accidentally pressed send way too early.

Before I could rectify the mistake, my phone pinged, saving me from the embarrassment.

Aiden: Hi

Liz: I had fun yesterday 😊

Liz: Sorry for leaving so early

I sent him the cutest photo of Berlioz I had taken in the last few hours, the one where he curled up next to a remote controller and fell asleep with his front right paw on the 'on' button. Then I wrote another message:

Liz: This was the reason. Say hi to the drain pipe kitten

A minute passed. Then two. I stared at the phone like an idiot, futilely waiting for the three dots to appear. At one point I gave up and left to make myself a glass of now-improved strawberry lemonade, mad at myself for even trying. Dating was presumably easy. The words and banter should have been flying off the screen, produced at the first touch of our fingertips. Was I doing something wrong, or was this how it was supposed to be, infuriating and clumsy and sprinkled with way too much delay?

When I returned to the living room and made myself comfortable on the recliner, several new messages awaited me. I sipped on the cold drink and placed the glass on the coffee table.

Aiden: Sorry, Champion had to go

Aiden: That is one adorable cat

Aiden: What's its name

Liz: Berlioz, courtesy of my sister

Liz: You call yourself Champion in the third person? Lol

Aiden: What no

Aiden: Champion is my dog

I facepalmed straight into the armrest.

When I checked my messages again, rubbing the painful spot on my forehead, I saw that Aiden had attached a photo of himself and a Doberman.

Liz: Adorable

Aiden: Thanks 😉

Liz: I was talking about the dog 🙄

Liz: He looks fierce

Aiden: Nah he's timid

Aiden: He hides under my bed whenever we have geese

I blinked, unsure I read that correctly.

Liz: I mean geese are scary 😕

Liz: A goose bit my mom once and she's avoided them ever since

Aiden: *guests omg not geese

Aiden: We don't have geese haha

Aiden: Sorry gtg

Aiden: Talk to you at school

Liz: See you 👋

I lounged on the couch, with one foot dangling and touching the hardwood floor, unsure what to think. Did I interrupt him at something? But he told me he had taken his dog out – that meant there was hardly any chance he had company over, right? So did that mean I annoyed him and he had more important things to do than to text me?

I bit my lower lip, my thoughts threading the dangerous territory. What if I checked his TikTok account? I distinctly remembered how well it went the last time, but curiosity never killed anyone, right?

"No, Berlioz! Get out of the washing machine!" I heard Maddie yelling from the bathroom and shook my head, my mind already made up.

With newly found determination, I clicked on the app and logged in.

I ignored the intimidating number of notifications in the corner and immediately searched for Aiden's account. He had uploaded several new videos since the party, but most of them were silly, fifteen-second videos of Troy trying to eat a big dollop of wasabi on its own. I watched as the green substance reduced Troy from a confident macho guy to a bawling mess in the duration of two and a half videos. The fourth one just showed him sticking his tongue under the running tap water while all his friends were rolling on the floor, laughing like maniacs.

One video stood out from the others. It presented Aiden with his cheek pressed against the rough school desk, seeming as despondent as if someone had just ordered him to watch a patch of grass grow. The description merely said: 'Detention for 2 weeks #killme'.

So Mel was right once again. He was the scapegoat who had been punished because of what Amber and I had done. I would have been pissed at myself too, except there was no way he could have known it was our doing.

I finally gathered enough courage to check the new comments under my video. It surprised me to see how vehement some of them were – plenty of TikTokers had started to leave their own experiences, providing examples for how the school system had curbed them.

@girl_in_black5272   be happy ur not in texas everyone and their moms get dresscoded here

@chunkyboi.crystal   Dress code is only a prob if your a girl lol lucky me

@bahlam.feeki_amara   They punished my girlfriend last year because she wore a niqab 😑

@iamchrisevansshusband   rly? my friend once came to school in boxers and nothing happened

The comments went on and on, and I scrolled down until my thumb muscles turned stiff. Right before I quit the app, a familiar handle caught my eye.

@michelangelos_tiddies   i got suspended today for 3 days for 'spreading gay propaganda'

@michelangelos_tiddies     @bluepanda1702 cancel them all pls

If I had put my phone away only thirty seconds earlier, those two messages would have most likely been lost to the waterfall of comments flooding my notifications. Julia didn't text the group chat at all that night – I would have found out about her suspension tomorrow, together with Amber and Grace, right about the time when she didn't show up at our regular meeting spot. We all would have been furious, sure, yet we would have remained rational. Calm. Stuck complaining within the four walls of our friend's bedroom, coddled and sheltered from anyone who could have retaliated.

But Julia had decided to shout into the internet void, and the void answered back.