Lapis had perfected the art of invisibility.

That's not to say, of course, that she could literally fade out of sight and be completely unseen by the human eye. But over the years, she had learned the best ways to avoid attention and to make people's eyes slide right over her as if she was a table or a chair: nothing to see here, just move on. She made rules for herself and followed them, and her invisibility act was just about perfect. It was easy enough once she got used to a quiet way of life, and it was a lot better than having people stare and her and wonder and whisper. So she walked through the halls in silence, listened in class and answered quietly if the teacher called on her. She never talked to other students unless it was necessary. In a crowd, she was the person who was never noticed. She got okay grades and hoped to get through her remaining school years without any unpleasant incidents of any sort. So all through middle school and the first half-year of high school, Lapis just acted invisible.

That is, until Peridot came along.

When the blonde-haired, light-skinned, heavily freckled girl plopped herself down in the seat next to Lapis during 9th grade English class – the first class of the day – Lapis almost slammed her head on the desk in frustration. Instead, she glowered at the girl, then turned her head away, fuming. There were three other open spots, so why did the new girl choose the spot next to her? The desk was in the middle of the room (teachers were prone to calling on people in the back or front, Lapis had deduced), and judging by the new girl's neat folder and pointy pencil, she was the type to sit in the front. Even after she was rewarded with a glare, however, the girl didn't go sit somewhere else. Instead, she introduced herself.

"Hello. I'm Peridot. What's your name?" Her voice was high-pitched, every word carefully pronounced, but her tone was rather flat. She sounded a bit like a robot. Lapis scrutinized Peridot carefully before she answered, and when she did, she tried to convey the unspoken message, "go away, I'm not interested in talking".

"Lapis."

Either Peridot was really dense, or she was ignoring Lapis's hostility. Regardless of the reason, she went on speaking. "That's a nice name." She paused for a moment, as if waiting for a response, but received nothing. She went on. "What are you guys learning now? I need to know if I have to catch up or if I'm ahead." Lapis didn't deign to reply. Maybe if she ignored Peridot, the girl would go away and leave Lapis alone. No such luck, though. After a moment of waiting, Peridot sighed and commented irritably, "When someone asks a question you're supposed to answer, you know."

Lapis decided she might as well be perfectly clear. "You are aware that I'm not looking for a partner." So what if she's not being polite?

Instead of being offended, Peridot just rolled her eyes. "I am aware, but I don't care." For a moment she smirked at her own rhyme, then opened her mouth to speak again – but to Lapis's relief, at that moment, the teacher began to talk.

"Welcome back, everyone, to the second semester of ninth grade," announced Ms. Spinel in her slow voice. She wasn't a bad teacher, but Lapis had gotten past the point of caring about school. "We have a new student today – Peridot, please stand up." The freckled teen stood up awkwardly, a slight frown on her face. "She's moved all the way to our town from another continent, so please be patient with her. Thank you, Lapis, for helping to welcome a new student to our community." Peridot looked uncomfortable, and Lapis carefully avoided looking at anyone. Everyone's eyes were taking in Peridot's giant round glasses and vampire-white skin and strange hairstyle. Ms. Spinel, unfortunately, was oblivious. "Do you have anything to say, Peridot?"

"No ma'am," Peridot replied hurriedly, her eyes darting around the room and her cheeks flushing slowly. There were some snickers and an overall commenting of, 'did she say ma'am?', 'she said ma'am', 'pfft, that's hilarious'.

"Call me Ms. Spinel," the teacher said, not unkindly. "Very well, you can sit down." Peridot nodded and slipped to a seated position, hiding her face in her hands. "Now class, this semester is going to be filled with work, so I expect you all to be trying your hardest. We'll be starting out with a writing unit. Whoever you're sitting with now will be your partner for the next few weeks." Lapis resisted the urge to groan loudly. Now she had to work with this girl for the whole unit? Just her luck. "We're going to be writing memoirs. To begin with, in order to gauge your current knowledge, I'm going to give you half an hour to try writing your own memoir. You know the drill: notebooks and pencils out, kids!" There was a general shuffling of papers and a bit more talk, and then silence as everyone began scribbling on their pages.

Lapis, unsure what to write, found her gaze drifting over to the other end of the little table. Peridot was bent over her paper, scribbling furiously; her hand was positioned so as to obscure the writing from everyone else. After the initial strange impression, Lapis concluded, there was evidently a whole lot more to find out about Peridot. Funny how a few good features can change a whole face, Lapis found herself observing. Peridot isn't actually bad-looking at all. She has a nice nose – much smaller and prettier than mine, the lucky girl – and when she isn't frowning, her expression is sort of cute... Suddenly she shook herself out of her thoughts. Cute? What was that supposed to mean? Lapis shoved all thoughts out of her head. Memoirs, she reminded herself firmly. Memoirs are what I should be thinking about. Not girls.

Peridot lifted her hand and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. As she glanced up from her paper, she caught Lapis staring at her. A faint smile briefly haunted Peridot's face, but by the time Lapis dared to look at her partner again, it was gone.

Ten minutes later, a scrap of paper brushed Lapis's hand. She looked up from her notebook, in which were now three sentences of a sort-of-memoir-thing, and took the note from Peridot.

We did this last month at my old school, was written on the scrap. Peridot's handwriting was unnaturally neat. Lapis hesitated, then decided to take a chance.

thats a pity, she wrote back. At least youll get good grade tho? Next to Peridot's immaculate handwriting, her own looked scrawling and messy. She pushed the paper back over to Peridot, then turned to her notebook again, not daring to look up at the other girl. When the note was passed back to her, Peridot had used a red pen to correct Lapis's grammar mistakes. Lapis almost snorted. In addition to that was another message.

I guess. I don't particularly like English class myself. Tech is better.

me, i dont care about school, replied Lapis, purposely not capitalizing and leaving out apostrophes, just to vex Peridot. Then, curious, she added, why did u sit next to me

Because I wanted to. Why else?
i dont know. u mightve done it just 2 annoy me
You have a point, but it wasn't just to annoy you.
whatev
What's your next class after English?
ive got math. what r u writing ur memoir about
Oh, I have math too. Might see you there. And as for what my memoir's about – that's none of your business.

Lapis looked up at Peridot to find that the girl was looking at her too. She masked her smile by sticking out her tongue, knowing it was childish but not caring. Then Lapis pushed the paper off the table and let it fall to the floor. At the very least, she reflected as Peridot wrinkled her nose at her, this was going to be an interesting semester.