Author's Note: I don't know. More crappy, nonsensical bullshit when I should be doing something productive. Irrelevant title is from 3 Libras, A Perfect Circle.

1.

They walked the halls and Amber was just out of Marcese's reach, three steps ahead. She took a tiny leap forward and pushed her face into the bouncing waves of cornsilk, inhaling their perfume.

"Mangoes," she trilled impishly.

"Ugh! Don't smell my hair, you freak!" Amber tossed an aquamarine glare over her shoulder and quickened her pace.

Marcese simply grinned.

2.

"We should start an Amber Fan Club, don't you think Capucine?" Marcese playfully elbowed her, knowing full well the titular blonde was in earshot.

"No," Capucine muttered uncomfortably. "That would be weird." Carnations bloomed in her cheeks and she was trying not to shift her shy eyes to Amber.

"I nominate myself as president, since I clearly love her the most," she declared wryly, apparently overriding Capucine's noncompliance.

"You're the last thing I want loving me," Amber humphed pointedly.

3.

Marcese wasn't looking for her, but she found her anyway. Amber sat on the last step and sniffled quietly, rivers of tears overflowing from beneath her closed lids.

She stepped over and lifted Amber's chin with a ginger knuckle. Weeping eyes opened and stared up at her mutely, the sniffling coming to a stop.

"Chin up, princess," she encouraged softly. And then she pulled away and carried on up the stairs.

She never did learn what Amber was crying about.

4.

"I haven't seen you in that skirt before. I like it." Marcese playfully stuck her tongue out as she eyed Amber's legs.

Amber recoiled and threw her hands up the air in frustration. "Ugh! What do I have to do to get you to back off? Tattoo 'I am straight' to my forehead!?"

"I still wouldn't back off," Marcese chirruped and threw her arm around Amber's shoulders as she winked at her.

Amber quickly tore free of her grasp, nose wrinkling. "I swear I will get a restraining order against you!"

5.

Amber pushed her back against the lockers with Li and Charlotte flanking. Outnumbering was a tactic more golden than the eyes of the girl she pinned.

"I'm going shopping after school," Amber informed her with razored sweetness. "Hand over your cash and this won't get ugly."

"Sure thing, darlin'," Marcese giggled impishly. "I keep my wallet in my underwear now. You're free to take it." Her lashes batted coyly.

Amber sputtered. Amber left.

6.

"Are you going to say something about how I look in this top?" Amber half-asked-half-guessed. The neckline was the mot revealing she'd ever worn.

"I don't think Debrah would like that," Marcese hummed apathetically.

"Oh, right." Amber wrinkled her nose. "You two are dating now, or whatever...You're perfect for each other, really. You're both such creeps."

"You're just jealous," Marcese laughs. "But I agree with you anyway."

7.

Amber is not jealous.

Amber is not envious.

Amber is not green.

She's just...confused.