"Now that I've done you a favor, using my slummy, poor-person connections you obviously think I have" She reached across the desk and grabbed Michiru's forearm. "By the by, I got it from one of the senior princesses in the fancy dorm hall. You think poor people can afford coke? You're a senior at an Ivy League school, use your fucking head."

Michiru slipped the bag into her backpack and handed over a surfeit of bills, not making eye contact with Mina, looking down at the French text she was meant to be tutoring on.

Mina pushed back the pile of money. "You think you can tip me? No, mon petit chou, I ran coke for you, you owe me."

Michiru snapped at her. 'And what, precisely, did you have in mind?"

Mina doodled at the edge of her notebook. "You know that girl I live with? I've told you about her. She works for a contractor on the weekends, and he's taking everyone out for a little end of season dinner. The guys all tease her about never having a date. So I thought you could go with her, pretend to be her date, make her feel good in front of the guys."

"Me?" The surprise in her voice was genuine.

"Listen, you're not my first choice either, Duchess, but she thinks you're pretty and I'm sure all the idiots she works with will be duly impressed." She wrote out a sentence in French in her notebook exhorting the virtues of cheese.

But Michiru was paying her work no attention now. "How does she even know what I look like? I don't believe I've ever seen her."

Mina did not look up from her textbook. "She works here at the school. On the not-weekends."

Michiru nodded. "It's a shame how little TAs are paid." She thought for a moment. "And adjuncts, I suppose. What does she teach? I admit I hardly ever leave the comfort of music and languages, and the campus is so large—"

"She doesn't teach here. There's a whole secret underground of people that do things other than teach here." Mina gestured wildly, annoyed. She tossed her hair back. "She works in maintenance."

"You intend for me to go on a date with a janitor."

"I intend for you to stop being a stuck up bitch for one night in your life, and do something nice for someone who's helped me a lot. " She stood up, gathering up her books. "And, I don't want to belabor the point, but I'm about to, I RAN COKE FOR YOU. You can stand to rub shoulders with a prole for one night. Or," She smiled brightly, "I can tell the dean of students," she began to cry softly and slumped back into the chair. "I didn't want to, but she told me if I didn't do it, she wouldn't help me with French anymore…and my scholarship pays for my books, and I just didn't know what to do! I feel so guilty!"

"You wouldn't."

"I already told the girl I got it from that you made me, and I dropped to French teacher that without your tutoring, I'd be totally lost, so, I've established backstory." She smiled, tilting her head to one side.

"Well then, I suppose I should ask the name of my captor." She scowled.

"My name's Mina, you've been tutoring me all semester. Are they gonna let you graduate?"

Michiru growled under her breath. "Not you. The janitor."

"Oh, oh. Haruka. And she doesn't know I'm blackmailing you, I just said I'd ask if you'd go with her. Wear something pretty."

She heard a knock at the door and finished the last of her glass of wine, rolling her eyes as she went to the door, unsure of what would be behind it. What would her family think, her friends, if they knew that she was going to be seen with someone who likely thought completing a comics crossword puzzle was the height of brilliance? She opened it slowly, looking up from the floor. The girl in front of her was tall and lean, a collared shirt tucked under a cheap cotton cardigan, but clean. Her sandy blonde hair was cut short, and just brushed her eyebrow. Michiru was almost offended by how handsome she was.

The girl pushed a drugstore bouquet of flowers toward into her hands. "I got you these." There was a teal ribbon tied around them. "Mina said she thought your favorite color was teal, but, there's no teal flowers, so, I just."

Michiru took them from her hands. "I suppose I should put these in some water." She walked into her apartment, Haruka following behind, gaping at the large loft.

"This a great apartment." She touched the granite countertop. "Where are your roommates, out for the night?"

Michiru filled up a crystal vase and placed the collection of daisies and sunflowers inside. "I don't have any roommates. The other bedroom is my studio."

"Ah. You uh, you look very pretty."

Michiru rinsed off her hands. "Thank you, it's Dior casual 2010." She turned around to face Haruka. "Shall we go?"

There was a whoop as Haruka opened the door for Michiru at the pub, and followed in behind her.

"Haruka, you reeled one in!"

"How much did you pay her?"

"Ma'am anyone told you you're too good for this ugly cuss?"

Haruka smiled over at her. "And these are my charming friends." She cautiously touched her elbow as she introduced her to the group. "Michiru, this is Tom, Mike, Brady, Joaquim, and my boss, Craig. Everyone, this is Michiru."

Michiru took her hand, remembering her role tonight as girlfriend, and felt Haruka's palm grow hot. "It's so wonderful to meet all of you, truly." She gave her best fake smile.

But as the night wore on, she could not help but notice her smile grow less fake. Haruka's hands were rough and scarred, but there was a gentleness in the way she spoke pidgin Spanish to her friend's wife, who seemed nervous. She was kind to the waitress, and gathered up the plates in the middle of the table when they'd finished. She asked for a piece of cake to be boxed up to bring home to Mina.

And she eased Michiru's awkwardness when she realized that she was the one who was odd, here. She snapped at Tom when he teased Michiru for studying things normal people didn't care about, declaring that they may build the buildings, but someone's got to fill them with stuff people want to see, or they'll all be out a job. And Michiru, much to her hatred and dismay, found herself feeling true affection very quickly for this girl. She tried to remember her station. She tried to remember the look on her friends' faces. She tried to remember the admonitions of her parents.

But all she could think about was the feel of Haruka's trembling hand on her knee.

They sat there on the edge of the bridge, the path behind them stiller than Michiru had ever seen in the city. The several drinks she'd had brought a flush to her face, and adventurousness to her soul that she had never known.

She turned to Haruka, who sat staring at the rails below. "I'm surprised you can get out here, that they've never repaired that gate."

Haruka laughed and stretched her arms behind her. "Well, this is the poor end of town, Princess. They don't really care if we throw ourselves in front of a train." She looked over at Michiru who sat silent. "I was just teasing. You're not like that."

Michiru smiled weakly. No, she was sure she had been, from time to time. "If they're going to die they'd better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

"A Christmas Carol."

Her smile was genuine now. "Dickens?"

"The Muppets."

Michiru laughed, and the train passed underneath them, shaking the bridge. Her shoulder was suddenly warm under Haruka's hand, a protective arm across her back, pulling her gently toward the gate and away from the edge. Haruka's eyes were closed as the train passed, the gust of air blowing her hair about her face, the dim lights from the train illuminating the very edges of her features.

Michiru did not think she had ever seen anything quite so beautiful.

"Mina tells me you both grew up here." She took advantage of the silence left by the train's escape into the night, and Haruka nervously withdrew her hand.

Haruka nodded. "Yup. She lived a few doors down. Neither one of us came from, I mean, things weren't—anyway, when I scraped up enough to leave I took her with me. And made her work hard at school." She shrugged. "One of us has gotta be smart."

She placed her hand on Haruka's. "Don't tear yourself down. You're a very noble soul."

Haruka was suddenly happy for the dark, as she felt the blood rise to her face. She pulled the collar of her sweater around her face and quickly changed the subject. "I guess this isn't the kind of date you're used to. I bet girls take you all sorts of fancy places."

"They lack your creativity. They only know how to throw money at a problem." The voice sounded more bitter than she had intended, but she did not apologize for it. Her entire life had been decided for her from the day she was born. She would study music. She would go to an Ivy. She would be beautiful and poised in all things. But as she sat here with this girl—this hard-working, rough, uneducated, absolutely perfect girl—she knew there was one thing she wanted to decide for herself.

Below them, the train rumbled on the track it had always followed.