I was in the bathroom of the new high school. It was my first day. I was doing my make up. A young woman my age, with black hair and white skin, wearing a black dress and black boots, walked in.
"Hey ya got a smoke?" she asked, leaning against the wall.
"No," I replied.
"Figures. Course ya don't."
I pause, my mascara wand in hand, turned and looked at her.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"You're just so damn pure you probably wouldn't have one even if I hadn't asked. I mean you're all. White."
She moved her hand in the air the legnth of my white dress.
"Oh," I said.
I turned back to doing my mascara.
"You're doing it wrong," she told me.
"What?" I asked.
"You're not supposed to pump it. You're supposed to twist it."
"Oh."
"I'm Raven, by the way."
"Lila."
"Flowery," she crossed her ankles and inspected her nails.
As I closed my tube of mascara it fell out of my hands and onto the floor.
"Fuck," I muttered, leaning down to retrieve it; "I need more anyway."
Raven approached me and leaned down.
"We could go right now," she said.
"But. We have class," I returned.
"Oh. Right. You're one of them."
"One of whom?"
"The girls who would never cut class."
"Well..." I began.
"I was right."
Her eyes flicked to my wrist which had cuts on it.
"Hm, looks like you're not that pure after all," she muttered.
A black snake wound itself up and down her arm then disappeared. She smelled like smoke.
"The, snake..." I said.
"Oh. yeah. she comes and she goes," Raven explained.
"Oh."
We stood.
"You have nice wrists, for..." she began.
"Um, thank you. For?" I asked.
"You know. Biting."
"Oh."
I was a little confused by this statement.
"Here's your mascara sweetie," she handed it to me; "text me if you wanna do something."
"But I don't have your," I began but she'd already left.
I turned to the large mirror, where it was scrawled in red lipstick. I blinked and it was gone.