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The next morning, Abbie got to school early because her father needed to go to a business meeting before dropping her off and it was raining outside. If she'd been at her old school, she would have wandered the halls, but she didn't feel like getting lost in this vast building, so she stayed within her comfort zone. She went to her locker and put away her backpack, then went to the washroom to fix her hair, which had gotten wet in the rain and was frizzing at the ends.

When she opened the washroom door, she heard the quiet but unmistakable sound of muffled sobbing. She wondered who, besides her, would be here so early; it was only 7:30 and school didn't start until 9:00. She glanced under the bathroom stall door and was astonished to see a pair of tattered black sneakers that she recognized immediately. It was Olivia.

She hesitated for a minute, wondering whether she should slink quietly away or whether she should tell her friend that she was here and ask her what was wrong. She knew Olivia wouldn't welcome the intrusion, but what else could she do? Bracing herself, Abbie rapped gently on the stall door. "Olivia?"

The crying ceased immediately and a hoarse voice said uncertainly, "Alex?"

Abbie tried to push away the pang of sadness that she felt at Olivia's question. "No, it's Abbie."

She could hear Olivia sigh. "Go away."

"I'm not going anywhere," Abbie told her, bristling.

Olivia didn't say anything.

"You know, I'm just as stubborn as you are."

"Leave me alone!" Olivia's voice had risen an octave, and this was more of a plea than an order.

For just a moment, doubt flashed through Abbie's mind, but she shook it off. "Olivia," she said in a gentler voice. "What happened?"

"Nothing!" snapped Olivia. "I'm fine, Abbie. Get out."

Abbie didn't budge. She stood right in front of the door so Olivia would see her feet, so her friend would know she wasn't leaving.

After a good five minutes of silence, Olivia finally unlocked the stall door and Abbie hid her smirk. She'd won this one and she knew it.

But her satisfaction vanished the second she saw her friend. Olivia's cheeks were stained with tears and her eyes were red and puffy. Her right eye was blackened and there were finger shaped bruises on her neck. "Olivia," said Abbie quietly. "What happened?"

Olivia's chocolate eyes flashed with anger. "Nothing!"

"Olivia –"

"Abbie, if you want to be my friend, then fuck off. Otherwise, we're done."

And she stormed out of the washroom, leaving Abbie staring after her and wondering what she should do – what she could do. If she could do anything at all.

Abbie spent French class fidgeting in her seat, waiting for Mme. Rochman to stop talking so she could ask Alex a question. She needed to know what was up with Olivia and she figured Alex was more likely to know than she was. Finally, their teacher set them to some textbook work.

Abbie tapped Alex on the shoulder. The blonde looked up and snapped, "What?"

Abbie raised an eyebrow. "Someone's in a bad mood."

Alex sighed. "Sorry. I meant, yes."

The brunette hid her smile. "What's up with Olivia?"

Alex hesitated. "I probably shouldn't be talking to you about it."

"You're not," Abbie pointed out.

Alex rolled her eyes. "I meant, it's Olivia's business, not ours. And I don't even know everything."

Abbie was trying not to appear too nosy, but she was curious, and she knew there was something wrong. "So tell me what you do know," she pressed.

Alex sighed, then allowed it. "Her mother."

"What about her mother?"

Alex clearly wasn't too comfortable talking behind Olivia's back, and Abbie knew she really shouldn't be asking her to, but she was curious. "Look, I don't know the whole story, but . . . her mother drinks sometimes. And when she's drunk, she hits Olivia. But you can't tell her I told you, okay? And you can't try to fix it for her, because believe me, you'll end up in over your head. And Olivia will kill both of us if you say a word, so don't."

Abbie just stared at her for a moment. She didn't know what to think, much less what to say. "I found her crying in the bathroom this morning," she admitted.

Alex sighed again. "And what did you do?"

"What's with the twenty questions?"

"Answering a question with a question," noted Alex. "That means you're feeling defensive."

Abbie thought about that, then realized Alex was joking, and she smiled, but then answered the question. "I asked her what was wrong."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Olivia doesn't like people to see her like that. Even me."

"She bit my head off," said Abbie.

"That's just Olivia," replied the blonde, shrugging. "You shouldn't ask her about her mother. She doesn't like to talk about it. And she'll just push you away." Then she hesitated again. "We really shouldn't be talking about Olivia behind her back. She wouldn't like it."

Abbie smirked. "And you just do whatever she wants?"

"When it comes to the important things," responded Alex firmly.

Abbie understood, so she dropped the subject. She knew she wouldn't like Alex and Olivia to pry into her painful – shameful – secrets, and then she felt bad about prying into Olivia's. Her therapist had told her that she wasn't alone when it came to bearing these kinds of secrets, and Abbie hadn't really believed her, but now she did. And she understood that sometimes those with secrets gravitated toward each other. Which was probably why Olivia had wanted to be her friend to begin with. Somehow, she'd seen the pain that Abbie had tried so hard to forget, and she'd understood that Abbie needed a friend.

And then it occurred to her that instead of fixating on negativity – hers or Olivia's – she should be trying to make a fresh start for herself and focus on the positive things. That was, after all, why they'd moved here. She needed to put her past behind her. Hakuna matata. She smiled to herself at that. The Lion King had always been her favorite Disney movie and even now, she loved to work quotes from that movie into her daily life. It drove her older brothers crazy.

Alex had gone back to her French work and Abbie tried to do the same. She tried not to think about Olivia – she tried not to think about him. Olivia reminded her of herself in some ways, and that was what made it so hard. She knew how Olivia was feeling because she'd felt the same way herself just a few short months ago. Well, almost the same way. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same.

She tried to focus on her textbook work. Je ferai, tu feras, il fera, elle fera. Ugh, French was pointless. And annoying. Cause and effect, she supposed. Abbie could never concentrate on anything unless she knew its specific use in her future. She'd wanted to be a lawyer since she was seven, and French wasn't going to be particularly helpful in that field.

"French is pointless," she complained to Alex.

Alex shrugged. "I disagree. It's useful if you travel, especially in Europe."

"Well, we don't. Maybe you do."

Alex laughed. "I guess so."

"You could afford a translator," commented Abbie, just because it was something to say.

Alex smirked. "We could afford a bodyguard, but that doesn't mean we need and/or want one."

Abbie could completely see what Olivia meant about Alex talking like a dictionary . . . or an encyclopedia . . . or one of those grammar textbooks that you get in grade two. "You have a limo driver," she remarked, even though she knew in the back of her mind that talking about money wasn't usually the start of a successful friendship.

But Alex didn't seem to mind. She leaned conspiratorially toward Abbie. "That's because my mother can't drive." She sat back and smiled smugly. "Don't tell."

The brunette laughed. "Who would I tell?"

Alex shrugged.

"Mes élèves, levez vos mains si vous avez besoin de plus de temps pour finir les pages j'ai alloué," said Mme. Rochman, disrupting their conversation.

Abbie looked to Alex for the translation and the blonde raised her hand before whispering to Abbie, "She says raise your hand if you need more time to finish." She rolled her eyes. "You're just like Olivia. She asks me to be her human translator too. She had French first term and she died."

Abbie smirked. "Poor Olivia."

"No, poor me! She wouldn't stop pestering me to help her with her homework, no matter how often I told her I didn't know how to do it."

"I'll bet she totally believed that."

"Obviously not."

"Abigail!" called Mme. Rochman. "As-tu fini?"

"That is not my name," muttered Abbie, but to her teacher she said, "Non, je n'ai pas fini."

Alex stared at her with an appreciative expression on her face. "That's impressive," she commented.

Abbie shrugged. "This is our fifth year of French. As much as I dislike the subject, I do know a little."

During science class, Olivia ignored Abbie, and Abbie was too stubborn to apologize, even though she knew she shouldn't have pried into Olivia's business. Her intentions had been good, after all, and Abbie Carmichael wasn't one to easily admit she'd been wrong.

But the bruises that covered Olivia's body made her angry. Very angry. She wasn't Alex and she wasn't going to roll over and play dead just because Olivia wanted her to. She was going to do what she thought was best and no one was going to stop her.

But then, what was best? When Abbie had doubts, usually she just pushed harder so as to hide them. She made decisions very quickly and never looked back, even if she realized she'd made the wrong choice. Her pride was too important to her for that.

"Olivia," she started, and when Olivia ignored her, she snapped, "Look, I understand you're pissed off right now, but I'm not the enemy here. You want to be pissed at someone, be pissed at your mom, because this is her fault. Not mine."

Olivia's head snapped up and Abbie realized she'd just completely overstepped her boundaries. "Who told you?" asked Olivia in a soft, dangerous voice. Her chocolate eyes flashed with anger and Abbie thought Olivia might hit her.

But she stood her ground. "No one. But you know it's true."

"How do you know? Did Alex tell you?"

"No, of course not," lied Abbie. She'd always been good at getting people to believe her lies, but with Olivia, she was scared that it might be different. And she couldn't betray Alex. She'd promised she wouldn't and she didn't want to be responsible for breaking the trust between two friends. "Don't be stupid."

But luckily, Olivia seemed to buy it. Or unluckily, because now all of her anger was focused on Abbie. And rightfully so, Abbie had to admit. But then, the fire suddenly drained from Olivia's eyes and her tough exterior slipped. "You weren't supposed to know," she whispered.

And then Abbie did apologize, because she knew it was the right thing to do. "I'm sorry, Olivia," she said softly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Olivia sighed and went back to the worksheet they were supposed to be working on.

Abbie felt bad all over again. She shouldn't even have brought up the topic. First of all, Olivia clearly didn't want to talk about it, secondly, it was none of her business, and third of all, Abbie wasn't even supposed to know about it. Great, she'd upset the girl who'd been nicest to her from day one. Good job, Abbie, she congratulated herself. You're well on the road to a fresh start now.

"Hey, Abbie, do you know the answer to 3a?" asked Olivia, her voice as light as usual, her chocolate eyes twinkling once again. She seemed to have forgotten their previous dispute, and Abbie was glad.

She looked down at the worksheet. "Um, nitrogen maybe? I'm not sure."

Olivia shrugged. "Okay, nitrogen." She looked at the question again, then said, "Actually, I think it's hydrogen."

"I didn't claim to be the expert," said Abbie. "You're the smart one."

Olivia laughed. "Me? Alex is the smart one."

"No arguments there," agreed Abbie. "She let me copy her French notes. They're good."

Olivia pouted. "I'm jealous."

Abbie smiled. "I know. She told me."

"You guys were talking about me?"

Uh oh. Wrong thing to say. "No, we were talking about French," replied Abbie with as much disdain as she could muster.

Olivia was momentarily appeased and nodded. "French is pointless."

"Agreed."

"Alex doesn't."

"I'm not Alex."

"I love you, Abbie," she said sweetly, offering Abbie a lopsided smile.

Abbie laughed. "Why?"

"Because you're not Alex and you don't try to be."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Then I guess you love everyone in this room."

"No." She thought about it for a moment. "I mean, I like you because you're Abbie and you don't try to be anyone else."

Abbie smirked, trying to disguise the pride that swelled in her chest at Olivia's statement. "So corny."

Olivia shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. "I say a lot of corny things."

"So self-aware," commented Abbie, raising an eyebrow.

"No, just stating facts."

"Corny, self-aware facts."

"True, true," agreed Olivia.

Abbie smiled and went back to her science worksheet.

"You can copy me," offered Olivia. Seeing Abbie's hesitation, she added, "Don't worry. I'm good at science."

Abbie understood that this was a peace offering and it would have been rude not to take it, so she did.

"Hey, we're sleeping over at Alex's on Friday. Do you want to come?" asked Olivia.

"Who's we?"

Olivia laughed. "Me and Alex. She asked me to ask you."

"Why couldn't she ask me herself?"

Olivia shrugged. "She's Alex."

Abbie considered. She would really like to sleep over with her friends . . . but she was scared to. What if her nightmares returned? She didn't want to wake up screaming, because she was afraid that Alex and Olivia would pry and wonder what was wrong. And then she was afraid that they wouldn't understand.

Or maybe she was afraid that they would.

She thought about it for another moment, then decided she just wouldn't sleep. Sleepovers weren't really for sleeping, after all. They were for staying up late telling secrets and playing games. Besides, her parents would be happy that she was making friends.

"Okay," she told Olivia. "I'll come."

Olivia smiled. "Cool."

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