Oz wasn't at The Bronze when she arrived.

Oz wouldn't answer his phone, which meant he either wasn't home yet or he was ignoring her. She didn't like any of the alternatives.

Willow tip-toed back and forth, not keen on waking her mother up. Hands behind her back, she constantly glanced towards the phone, which seemed to stare back at her with its black… She shook her head, dramatically turning around to sink down on her bed.

Again, the girl – Tara, came to her mind. She seemed nice. For someone just knocked into, she was basically Sainte Marie the second.

She felt like giving her a warning, something in style with 'don't go to Sunnydale High, we have dead bodies', but she didn't have a number. A name, but that was it.

Besides, her starting at Sunnydale would give Willow a chance for a proper apology.

And something else, something bubbly and new jolted at the thought of her beginning at her school.

The phone rang.

/

A week passed by without any further notice of Tara Maclay.

On Monday, she kept glancing over her shoulder to see if she'd missed her somehow.

On Tuesday, she checked with the principal.

On Wednesday, hopes up with brand new news from the principal, she kept slowing down to double-check some classrooms.

On Thursday, she began to forget all about it.

/

Willow slid a thumb over the back of Oz's hand, listening to Buffy's latest slay.

But even Buffy herself could be that entuastisch about it. Not with Faith running aloop with the Mayor. Not with Xander and Willow pretending everything was just 'dandy', with Cordelia throwing them meaner and meaner punches every time.

She squeezed Oz's hand, which earned her a little smile. Buffy continued her story with a worn, but trying, expression. Until the bell interrupted her. She sighed excessively, shooting the gang a slight smirk.
"Sorry to ruin the end guys, But I kill the evil, demon-y thing. Time for other…." Xander raised an eyebrow. "Evil things."

Willow grinned. "If you by evil you mean physics, yep. Did you do the homework?"

/

Willow re-read the text for the fourh time, with as much luck her previous attempts. The only thing the book was giving her was a headache. And maybe, if this was keeping up, some well-deserved sleep. She pushed some hair out of her face, scrunching up her nose in confusion.

But her soon-to-be sleep was prevented by the creak of a door. A soft, stuttering voice she knew she remembered.

Willow looked up. Tara.

Something inside of her sparked, made her look down with a blush. That certain something was happy Oz wasn't here.

She quickly decided she didn't like the feeling.

Daring to peek up again, she caught sight of her. And unluckily, their teacher's death glare as well(if she turned out to be evil, Willow wouldn't really be that surprised).

"Maclay?"

"Y-yes. T-Tara. Maclay, Tara. Tara M-"

Their teacher interrupted her. "Yes, got it. Welcome to Sunnydale High, Tara. You can sit…" Her eyes raked over the students, making most of them move their chairs closer, either to whisper or highlight that yes, this seat is taken.

Willow felt a pang of sympathy.

"Next to Rosenberg. Good luck."

The sympathy quickly grew into a giant rock. A giant rock with butterflies on top, pushing at her lungs.

She pulled out her chair, trying her best to look inviting. Apparently, it worked. Tara smiled at her, raising her hand in an awkward hand motion she thought was supposed to symbolize a hi. She recognized her, no doubt (hopefully?).

Later, Willow left the lecture happier and more confused then she'd been in a long while.