Emma shrieked as she saw the steaming, dark liquid seeping through her papers.
But her dad just looked sheepish. Freaking sheepish. "What am I going to do—what am I going to—!" She screeched.
She felt a steady hand on her shoulder. "Cool it, Em. It's not the apocalypse. Calm down."
"Mu-um," Elliot whined. "Get her to stop," he said. He got up, walked over, and whacked Emma in the head with his spoon, leaving a sticky milk spot bang in the middle of her forehead. "Emma, stop flipping out. You're going supersonic again."
Thank God her mother caught her just as she was going for Elliot's throat.
"Go upstairs and sort yourself out." Her mother said. She turned to talk to Emma's father. "See, Neil, this is exactly what happens when you don't let her have her morning swim. You know how I hate it when she goes supersonic!"
XXX
Emma wailed into her phone. She didn't care if she was torturing Cleo's eardrums, she was upset.
"Oh my God, oh my God—"
She could hear Cleo sighing into the phone. "Cool it, Em. You're fine. Everything's fine."
That's exactly what her parents had said. "Everything's not fine. You may be an easy-going slacker but Emma Gilbert is not, missy! What the hell am I going to do?!" She knew she was basically accusing Cleo of being a lazy good-for-nothing, but that's what best friends are for, right?
"What I do. Slack."
She was going supersonic again. "Don't you be sarcastic with me, you—!"
"Hold it. Before you say something that will get you grounded with your parents, think through it. Breathe."
Good. Because she had definitely been about to say one of the words that would have her paying her entire allowance into the swear jar.
She paused, she breathed. "Well, you're right. I guess swearing to the world really isn't an appropriate reaction to the situation."
"See? There. Now tell me what's happened." She was always so calm. Emma made a mental note to ask her how she did that.
"I've lost all my binders! Dad spilled freaking coffee on all my papers, and then—"
Another sigh from Cleo's end. "Have you looked under your desk?"
Emma's face soured. "… well, no."
And Cleo really must have been her best friend, because even though school hadn't started yet and she'd already given the brunette an entire year's worth of sighs just in the last five minutes, she didn't actually sound annoyed. "Go look."
Emma threw the phone down and crawled over to peer underneath her desk. She scrabbled for the phone again. "Oh God! You, Cleo Sertori, are a goddess!"
"I try."
XXX
Emma had proceeded through the rest of the morning quite happily. Well, of course aside from the five minutes spent scowling in front of the mirror as she cleaned off the milk spot her darling brother had given her as some sort of first day present.
She had already spent her own ten minutes worth of muddling through her locker and jamming stuff in such a way it wouldn't flood out every time she opened it.
She spotted Cleo walking in and ran up to her. "I am in love with you."
"I hate to remind you, sweetheart, but I'm a girl." She paused. "A straight girl."
"Yes, yes, Lewis is enough proof of that—" She shrieked and ducked as Cleo swung a binder at her, "But nevertheless, I adore you. What can I do to make it up to you?"
Cleo's face crumpled into a cringe. "Try not to go supersonic for an entire day?"
"Deal!—wait, what?"
"Pleeease?"
They both knew that wouldn't last, not in a million years. "Something else?"
Cleo pouted. "Keep Zane and the dweeb team off my back?"
Emma winked. "That I can do."
They were now back at their lockers and Emma was watching Cleo suffer through her own ordeal with christening her locker.
"Look at 'em," she said, and Cleo turned after a second. She watched as the other students milled about, with sleepy, unhappy faces and drooping shoulders. "Trudging to class as if prisoners to execution,"
Cleo snorted, and Emma glared at her.
"They obviously don't plan."
If Emma hadn't known better, she would say Cleo was laughing at her. "Yeah. I'm sure that's it, Em."
She watched as Cleo eventually closed her locker, leant back against it, and moaned, "God. Another year."
But by this time she wasn't listening anymore, rather keeping her eyes trained on a fascinating example of teenage hormones as it trudged across the lawn and swore at the sprinklers.
Emma yanked down on Cleo's sleeve to get her attention, and ignored as Cleo muttered swears at her beneath her breath. She leant in close to Cleo's ear. "Who's she?"
Now Cleo was just as interested as she was. She had blonde curls, sticking to her face from the water, a blood red top obviously used as some poor attempt at being 'emo,' although one look at this girl could say you didn't need the clothes to prove it. She pulled at her shirt and screamed at all the people gaping at her—probably because by now it was evident she wasn't wearing a bra—and started walking over to them.
She shoved people out of her way and shot death glares at Emma and Cleo. "What are you looking at, bitc—"
A teacher walked past, eyeing her, and her face quickly spread into one with only docile intentions. She ducked her head and scuttled off.
When the teacher's back was turned she started pushing people again.
Emma blinked at Cleo. "Who is she?"
Cleo looked back, just as shocked. "I have absolutely no idea."
