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Mornings were usually the best part of the day for Claire. It was peaceful and quiet, her mind was clear and her focus was precise. During these times she liked to review her schedule and her homework, make breakfast as a sweet gesture for her family who were mostly not early risers, and try to center herself for the day to come. This ritual had served her well in her sixteen years. She had become quite good in school and very collected and centered as a person. Claire was a vixen. She was of somewhat slim build, and around five foot seven inches tall. Her hips were her best feature, and her breasts were perky and somewhat small. Her hair was the same auburn of her fur, and the slim, wry muzzle of her species was a good offset to her shape.

This morning she had made pancakes and eggs, reviewed her AP classes' homework, and was prepared for a pep rally. She had, like many mornings, considered looking for paid tutor work, as she was good at relaying information and obviously excelled in scholastics. The testament to that was her well-on-schedule plan of graduating a year early. Certain things eluded Claire. She had no desire for or great understanding of her classmates' social lives. She was uninterested in boys, and spent more time occupying herself with thinking up new ways to stay busy than enjoying herself. She was indeed a model citizen, if a very boring one.

Dressed in corduroy pants of silvery gray and a long sleeved blouse of lilac, she left her home. Her backpack, full to bursting with her schoolbooks draped heavily over one shoulder, and her small neutral purse over the other, she boarded the bus. The opportunity had arisen to get a car, but she had been disinterested in the idea. Public transportation was very good in her city, and she did not want the additional stress of taking care of the thing.

There were some people she sat with more regularly than others, but they all had their own cliques and circles that did not really involve her, so today all those seats were filled. There were a few boys - younger of course - that looked excitedly at her, but that idea seemed unpleasant. As she stood awkwardly at the front of the vehicle, a hand shot up and waved eagerly. She made her way to that row, and found sitting a girl she recognized in a familiar way but did not know.

This girl, a lynx, was wearing a cheerleading outfit. Claire took her seat, as the sitting girl moved her pom-poms off the bench and onto her lap. She greeted Claire with a smile and a perky, gleeful comment. "You're that super smart girl from my AP Lit class, aren't you?" This girl was shorter than Claire by a few inches, more full in the chest, smaller in the waist - very visible in the crop-top uniform she was wearing - and fuller in the hips and rear, too. Claire noticed, in a matter-of-fact way that this girl was very attractive. Probably more so than any other girl she had ever seen.

The greeting was not off-putting to her, as "that super smart girl" was the main descriptor people used for her. As such, with simple grace she replied, "Guess so. I'm not really good with names. But you're very familiar. You are?" Despite that being a properly made piece of conversation, Claire felt somewhat awkward this morning. She also found that sensation kind of interesting, in a novel sort of way.

"I'm Brooke!" The lynx girl supplied enthusiastically. "Your name is Claire, isn't it? You went to Creekside Elementary, right? We were, like, best friends!"

"We were? Oh wait, you're that Brooke? Jeeze, I didn't even recognize you. So you're a cheerleader? That's certainly different."

"Well, we ended up in different middle schools. I didn't have any friends. You know how much energy I always have, and the only sport I could find that I actually liked involved dressing in revealing clothes and being sexy. But you're right, it is definitely different. So what have you been up to the past... gosh, five years?"

"School. I mean, you were kind of my only close friend, so I just stopped paying attention to people. I've been getting really serious about trying to finish high school early, and I have kind of been thinking about tutoring people. I could use some spending money. Your story is way more interesting." Claire was dumbstruck by this meeting. She and Brooke had been inseparable, but after elementary school, they had both been very busy and kept missing out on seeing one another so much that they had stopped trying.

"That sounds like no fun at all! No friends, no romance, no hobbies? Blech. But that last part is interesting. You don't happen to do Calculus, do you?"

"That was one of the subjects I was thinking about, yeah. I'm pretty much acing it, and I'm good at explaining dry concepts like that. When were you thinking? I'm usually free every day from four to six. I don't really know how the cheerleading schedule works."

"Hm... you don't do anything later? I usually practice from three till five four days a week, and I like to be able to spend about two hours doing my other homework. Unless Friday nights are good for you? I wish I could say I don't believe you're not the fun type."

"Friday's fine. Just after school?" Claire asked, embarrassed and off guard that Brooke agreed that she was not fun. "Um, should I go to your house, or you come to mine? Or the public library, or...?" Worse than the fact that Claire had hardly thought this plan through, and was just trying to sound interesting, was the fact that tomorrow was Friday. Between memories she had been basically ignoring starting to rear their heads, and the fact that Brooke seemed so different and cool, Claire was off guard.

Brooke sniggered at the profound confusion on the vixen's face, and asked, "Did you really think this whole business through?" Claire admitted that she had not, and that it was a mostly half-baked idea. "Do you just want to trade every couple sessions? It's kind of rowdy at my house with my two little brothers, but they're not too horrible. You still the only child?" Claire shook her head yes. "That must suck. I don't know what I'd do without them. They keep the house from being too quiet."

"When did that happen? You were an only the last time we got together."

"My mom was expecting then, but it was too early to start telling people in case she had miscarried. So, a few weeks after I turned eleven the one came along, and then almost as soon as physically possible the other came."

"So they're little. Like, toddler little."

"Yup! It's a racket day and night, but I kind of missed it without knowing it. You know?"

This concept was foreign to Claire, who deeply appreciated solitude. She shook her head in disagreement, having not ever had that idea. She did not have too much time to ruminate on this subject, however, as the bus pulled up to the school and the other students started to disembark. Brooke shot up with gusto as Claire sat and waited for the bus to empty to their row. They both looked at each other. Brooke had a smirk on her face, and Claire had slight confusion on her own. At the same moment, they both thought the other was very different. Interesting, enjoyable and missed dearly, but very different than each had remembered the other.

As they exited the bus and started in their separate directions for homeroom, Brooke ran back over and suggested, "Hey! There's no practice today after the pep rally. Do you want to come with me and the others to get some milkshakes after?"

A blank mask of perplexity marred Claire's otherwise pretty face, and made Brooke laugh. This snapped her out of the state - Brooke's laugh was as attractive as the rest of her. Brooke amended, "Have fun. People. Milkshakes. You?" Claire nodded, uncertain why she did so when she was sure she knew nobody on the cheer squad and felt like she barely knew Brooke herself. She was very convincing.

Despite a pleasant, peaceful morning, Claire found her normal groundedness had slipped away thanks to the unusual commute and potential business plans. And, what was it? "Have fun. People. Milkshakes." Despite the gusto with which she normally took notes and participated in class discussion, she was having a rough time doing so today. Within ten minutes, nonchalance had rubbed off on her. And even as that thought formed in her head, she realized how unkind and untrue it was. Brooke was a busy person - more so than she was. She seemed very serious about her obligations, just less serious as an individual. She was her friend. Time and loss of contact did not change that.

Literature class came, and as usual Claire was in the room and seated as soon as the previous class had filed out. Brooke arrived about two minutes before the bell, and took a seat behind Claire. The fur on the back of her neck rose, at the feeling of being watched, but she tried to pretend not to notice. When Brooke tapped her shoulder, Claire managed not to startle, but failed slightly to maintain her composure.

Brooke handed Claire a little folded note, smiled and waved cutely. Claire unfolded the note and found a phone number enclosed, printed very neatly, along with a short note, reading: Text me! I want your number, and it'll be easier to find each other in the fracas after the rally. It was signed "Love, Brooke." Claire had absolutely no idea what to do with any of the information presented except the first sentence. Having at least one clear instruction, she pulled out her phone and sent a simple "Hey" to the number given. Brooke's phone immediately appeared in front of her face, and then in front of Claire's as well, to prove that the message went to the right place.

She heard a little sniff of laughter from behind her, and turned around to see Brooke half smiling. The room was mostly empty, so she raised her eyebrows in question. Brooke answered, "Oh, I just got the shyest girl in school's phone number. What's there not to be happy about?" That stinging, awkward feeling descended heavily upon Claire again, and she felt her ears redden. She stared fastidiously at her desk until class began, and yet again found herself distracted from taking notes.

The texture of the note, which she was still turning over in her hands was like a rasp, and the phone in her pocket felt like incriminating evidence of some evil. She did not feel betrayed, exactly, but had no idea why she agreed to any of this. Friends. People. Milkshakes. Fun? Seriousness and boringness were her armor and shield against these requests, but Brooke seemed uninterested in her excuses. She wondered if this girl even needed tutoring. A short thought occurred to her that this may be some cruel prank. She never had really been bullied before, but did not mean it could not be the case now. Even despite the past, she had become so different.

After a half hour more of wracking her brain over what was happening, the class was dismissed and Brooke was right beside her. She was stealing suspiciously long glances, and a malicious grin spread across her face. She asked playfully, "So, were you just waiting for any girl to give you her phone number, or am I just special?" Claire stared openly at Brooke after she said this, eliciting a response. "You keep staring like that and your eyes are going to fall out. Although I can't say that I mind too much."

After another few moments, Claire replied, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"What?"

"You're teasing me. And you want me to go hang out with a bunch of cheerleaders. You seem like such a similar and different person at the same time, but I don't know what your game is."

"My game is that I want to reconnect with the girl I was friends with in elementary school. We used to draw monsters together and make little stories for them. Remember?"

"Well, yeah. I guess. But don't you have your own clique?"

"Sure. But you don't. You're in high school, girl! Supposedly the best years of our lives. And you're going to waste them alone in your bedroom studying? I thought by now you would have come out of your shell. And since you haven't, I'm going to make you."

"So I'm supposed to become besties with the cheerleaders?"

"Well, since you don't seem to actually have any friends, you already are 'besties' with one. Besides, it's not like some movie. Nobody is really aggressive or spiteful - okay, almost nobody - Norma's a bitch, but she's just mad she has a name from like a century ago that wasn't even attractive then."

"So did you really need help studying?" Claire asked, suddenly both more at ease and less.

"I mean, I would like to bring my B minus up to an A minus..." Brooke admitted with a mix of pride and scandal.

"I don't think that would really be 'tutoring' so much as just, uh..."

"Study buddies?"

"I guess so, yeah." As Claire admitted this the perpetual grin on Brooke's face grew even wider.

"I could probably convince some of the less bookish girls on the squad to come to you, if you were still trying to do that whole... thing." Claire declined, since the idea had been idle and was more enjoyable as just that, than a functional plan. Besides, there were just not enough hours in the day sometimes as it was. "Well, think about it either way. I gotta run to my next class. Come sit by me at lunch?" Before Claire could accept or deny, Brooke had bounded off in the direction they had come, parting the crowds with her energy and social clout.

Claire watched her go for several long seconds. Brooke had been so different in grade school. She had been taller than Claire, for one, and extremely lanky. Almost skeletal. But now, Brooke stood almost a head shorter and had filled out into a very attractive young woman. Her hair had been bleached white at the tips, and was styled in loose, slightly unkempt waves. Where it used to be almost boyishly short, it now came to the middle of her considerable chest. Still, though, if she looked hard enough, the girl she used to play make believe with was still visible.

Unlike now, Brooke had been extremely shy when they were younger. Claire had never had much trouble talking with people, but had always just naturally kept to herself. They were reading the same series of books at the time they met, and had bonded over their shared interests of science class, drawing monsters and reading fantasy stories. They had gone to separate middle schools, and in that time, Claire had almost forgotten about her best friend. Clearly, Brooke had remembered quite a bit better, but the unfamiliarity was there too. Even so, memory was flooding back faster and faster, recalling things she was not especially keen to revisit.

Despite their history, though, Claire did not feel like this was a rekindling of old friendship. It was like meeting someone from a parallel reality who shared the same name as her version of Brooke. The embarrassment flooded in again, for having accused the girl that told her Santa was imaginary of trying to bully her. She plodded off to her science class, unsure how to proceed. It was weird. She had spent so much time in her own head that sharing her personality with anyone was a foreign, almost scary concept. Though their trains of thought had gone to bizarre and unique places in the past, she wondered if her Brooke and this Brooke really thought the same way.

Her long walk to class somewhat cleared her head, and she was able to finally get back in the swing of classwork. This eased a great burden from her mind, and the lecture went by smoothly and easily. The next class did as well. Though Claire hated government class, it was a simple enough subject. Afterwards was lunch. She dug a paper sack from her pack and stared blankly at the cavernous room looking for school colors. She found the table containing Brooke. It was like a minimalist video game display, she was slightly more colorful and animated than her surroundings. Even so, she considered checking in with the tabletop roleplayers to watch the next episode in the exciting tale of The Four Murderhobos.

As Claire approached, Brooke made a big show of pushing her squad mates closer together to make room for her. Two or three girls eyed her suspiciously, but the rest seemed either disinterested by or amicable toward her presence. Brooke introduced her, thankfully, as Claire was finding herself growing more bashful by the second.

"You used to hate brown bagging, Claire." Brooke pointed out as an icebreaker.

"I used to not know how to make my own lunches." She agreed, pulling a leafy sandwich on dark bread from the sack, as well as an orange and a bottle of kombucha. "Now, I get to make my own, and I can cater to my tastes, rather than eating stale fries and lukewarm chicken nuggets."

"Oh, fancy." Brooke admired. "And healthy. Is this stuff any good?" She asked, pointing at her drink.

"It's really sour, but I love it."

"Can I try some?"

"I guess." Claire said coolly. Brooke was really trying to take interest in her, and so she tried to ignore the grating feeling of being prodded. Brooke unscrewed the lid and hummed gleefully at the sound of carbonation. She took a sip and screwed up her face.

"That is... vivid." She said. "And it tastes like flowers?"

"It's lavender flavor. I told you it was sour." Claire teased, suddenly smiling but not really knowing why. She realized that the table had dropped into a lull, during which she and Brooke had been being watched, and found the feeling acceptable. Without realizing it, she had sorely missed her best friend.

"So, Claire," started one girl, a stunningly gorgeous ferret girl. "Aren't you trying to graduate early or something. There's surprisingly many rumors floating around for somebody so... vanilla."

"I am. I want to be an engineer when I get done with school. You know how it is for women in technical fields, so I figure anything to stand out helps."

"Do you have any actual hobbies?"

"I mean, I read a lot, but I guess you mean stuff that doesn't involve books? Like, uh... I listen to a lot of prog metal."

"What metal? Like screaming and yelling and stuff?"

"No, not really. It's like... um... baroque opera music with electric guitars. You might like it."

"I listen to EDM and pop, mostly. It's more fun." Having been introduced to the whole lot of them at once, it took several moments for Claire to run back through the list of names to pick out correctly that this girl, Simone, was the captain of the squad and close friends with that Norma girl.

"I don't like much electronic stuff, and I'm really picky about pop."

"So you're a math nerd, a book nerd and a music nerd. Wow." The intonation of that statement was not derisive or sarcastic, so Claire was a little off guard. She agreed and was surprised not to hear laughter in response. "Guess it's better to be passionate about something than not about anything."

Having, apparently, passed the test given by their leader, the rest of the girls chimed in and started talking to her. Norma, it turned out, liked a strange outlier of punk music involving banjoes and mandolins which intrigued her. These girls that were so often held up on pedestals were so very much like herself it was scary. They were, for the most part, intelligent and driven. Finding enjoyment in physical activity and choreography was just a single, tiny facet of their personalities.

Toward the end of lunch, Claire noticed Brooke had stolen another sip of her drink. She eyed her questioningly, and got a shrug and another big smile in answer. Brooke so easily smiled. And the way her eyes lit up and the bridge of her muzzle crinkled slightly was so adorable and disarming, she could not help but smile back. As they started to finish, each leaving after throwing away her trash or depositing her tray, Claire found herself being followed by a familiar presence.

"You get along so well with everybody!" Brooke exulted.

"I guess so. I never would have thought your big bad Norma liked folkpunk. It sounds really interesting. She said she was going to give me her number later and link me some bands."

"I just guess we don't get along. Also, you're gonna make me jealous getting a bunch of cheerleaders' phone numbers." Brooke pouted playfully, hurrying a bit to walk backwards in front of Claire.

"What are you talking about?" That same embarrassment crept into her mind and across her features again.

"Well, I mean, it used to just be you and me. And oh my gosh you're so cute when you're blushing!" Saying this made Claire blush further, and avert her gaze. "I just... I mean, I kind of want us to be a thing again. I'm happy to see you socialize that easily, but I wanted to monopolize all of your time and affection."

"Okay, you keep talking like - like - are you coming on to me?" Claire suddenly asked, unfortunately in earshot of a group of freshmen who started to goggle.

Not answering until they were out of range, Brooke answered, "I mean, it's no big secret I like girls. And I do like flirting with you because you get so upset. But really, I just missed my Claire-it-ee. I wanna be friends again." The nickname made Claire have to think very hard about the later part of their friendship. She had started calling her that around... the summer after fifth grade, and it used to really touch her, because nobody else had a nickname for her, let alone one so flattering. "Nobody else wants to talk about fantasy novels, and I like weird scifi now and nobody wants to talk about that either except those kids who do their role play during lunch, and they're... rude and off-putting. It took me a while to figure out it was you when we started ending up in the same classes. And now that I have, I want to see if we can pick things up where we left off."

"And you're flirting with me why?"

"Because you're adorable! Also, while the rumor of you wanting to graduate early is obviously true, there is also a rumor that says you ignore boys like they're invisible, so I was thinking it may be... indicative of something."

"You think I'm a lesbian?" Claire asked, a bit more harshly than she meant to.

"Aw, you say that like it's the worst thing ever. I don't think you are anything you don't admit to, I just... I mean, it would kind be of cool, wouldn't it?" As easily as Brooke smiled, was as easily as she displayed other emotions, too. Right now it was a defeated yet hopeful look. They had, in their walk, made it to the school library, and Claire touched Brooke's shoulder to indicate she should turn around. This made Brooke blush lightly in her ears, but did not deter her from following or staring.

"I guess I could think of worse things. Just cool it, would you?"

"Probably not." Brooke said, a little gleam of mischievousness in her eyes.

"Just don't start saying anything. It's nice to get reacquainted, but I'm not interested in stuff like that." Claire whispered, as they were now in a quiet place.

"I don't believe you." Brooke answered immediately, holding out the word "you" for a long moment. "Remember that last time I slept over at your place. I had tried to get that smutty romance from the public library and was too embarrassed to read it. You went through it in like two days, and when I came over and you gave it back to me?"

"What?" Claire asked, suddenly remembering how she had gotten her pet name - for it was more that than a nickname.

"You were all eager to talk about it, and jealous of the character, and wanted somebody who thought of you like that. Except not Darrell." Brooke continued on. Claire remembered very clearly the whole evening now. "And so I told you that I thought of you that way - that I wanted to spend all my time with you and give you lots of attention and tell you you're pretty and stuff - and you got kind of snippy and said, 'Well, I want somebody who'll kiss me and say they love me. Not just like, BFF's.'"

Claire interrupted with, "Yeah I remember. Can we drop it?"

"No!" Brooke denied, holding the word for a long time again. "So I said, 'Well I love you.' And you got all quiet and didn't look at me or say anything for a while and when you looked back at me you said, 'Fine. Then kiss me.' And then I got all quiet for a minute and you started to yammer. 'See, that's what I mean. We're both girls and it's not how that works and you don't love me like that and I hate stupid puberty and I hate how sore my chest is and I don't want to be a grownup,' and on and on. Which was too cute, because I don't think I'd ever heard you just babble out a huge long run-on sentence like that before."

Claire was blushing and studiously looking at the nearest shelf of books, pretending to ignore Brooke as hard as she could. "So when you kind of ran out of steam, I said, 'I'll do it. C'mere.' And we went back and forth for like twenty minutes kind of trying to psyche each other out of it. And then I kind of pecked you on the lips awkwardly. Neither of us said anything for a long while, until you asked me if I really meant it. And I said, 'I think I just had a moment of Claire-it-ee, and I definitely meant it.' And then we both started to laugh, and you hugged me and said you loved me back, and it was all very sweet."

"Brooke, that was - we were kids. I do remember. Once I figured out who you were everything started kind of rushing back like a broken dam, but... right after that we started up junior high, and didn't even try to keep in touch. It's not like that... meant... anything."

"You know why I called you what I did? I knew as soon as I kissed you that I liked girls. Even if it didn't mean anything to you, it was an incredibly enlightening experience for me. And I know it did mean something to you, because you held me close once we finally decided to get some sleep and didn't let go until I had to drag myself away from you.

"Now, I'm not going try to use the past to convince you to do something you don't want, but I am going to use the strong evidence presented to me to assume you like girls. I'm going to biasedly and irrationally hold onto the idea that somewhere deep down you might still have feelings for me, even if just based on childish experimentation, and I'm going to keep flirting with you because I like to watch your reaction. 'Kay?"

"You know I could just walk away right now and ignore you." Claire said brusquely.

"You could, but you wouldn't get to hear why I took another drink of your drink." Brooke said conspiratorily.

"You're impossible." Claire shot back.

"I've been told by the rumor mill that I'm actually quite easy. You'll have to take it up with them."

"Fine. Whatever. Why'd you try my drink the second time?"

"Once I understood what I was supposed to be tasting, I wanted to try it again. Do they make any flavors that aren't flowers" Brooke answered, smiling at her victory. "That was the only part I didn't like."

"There's lots of them. You can make it yourself, but that sounds like a lot of work, so yeah, plenty." Claire replied, smiling at Brooke smiling. Feeling a deeply awkward pause coming if she did not continue the conversation herself - or worse, more flirting which she had no way to deny - Claire asked, "So you still like fantasy books? What have you been reading lately?"

"I've read every book they based that TV series everybody's watching on, and I bet you'd love it. The last thing I read was some sci-fi about a guy who destroys capitalism with AI and his daughter who conquers Saturn. I guess it's really mostly about his cat, though." Brooke said, happy to have things back to normal at least, if not necessarily heading in the direction she had hoped. They spent the last few minutes of their break talking about books and movies, fluently and easily like no time had ever passed and no awkwardness had ever occurred.

The two parted ways again, heading to their last few classes of the day. Brooke had said how excited she was to be doing the pep rally this afternoon, which yet again made Claire lose all focus. It was significantly less scary to think about now that she at least had met the girls she was going to be hanging out with, but it did not change the fact that it was supremely unusual.

The last class of the day - and the closest thing to a "club" Claire was in was Music Theory, taught by a community college professor on loan - was canceled for the festivities. Normally, Claire would have been upset by this, but under the circumstances she was relatively excited. Besides Brooke herself being stuck in her head all day, she found more and more that cute outfit of hers featuring prominently as well.

She made her way to the football field in a bit of a hurry, to find it not yet filled up. She sat near the front, interested in having a good view for once at least. Or at least a good view of Brooke. Within a few minutes the bleachers were packed and there was outdated dance music playing. Claire idly wished there were heavy metal cheerleaders. At around the same time she heard one of the freshmen who had gaped at Brooke and her earlier this afternoon said the same thing very loudly. Though his highly detailed description of what that entailed was not very appealing to her.

Shortly an airhorn sound effect blared over the loudspeakers and the cheerleaders trotted out onto the field. They looked simultaneously more and less numerous in their formation on the large field, but Claire was only really paying attention to one of them anyway. They did some complicated routines and chants, followed by acrobatics that were honestly very impressive. She was somewhat disappointed that Brooke was a spotter and not one who got tossed high up into the air, but she was a sturdily built girl, compared to some of the others.

After forty-five minutes of mostly unsuccessful cheering and crowd working, the pep rally ended, and school dismissed. It was about ten minutes early, which was the real reason the more mercenary students were excited to have these events, but it did not matter much to anyone. Claire started to make he way off the field as her phone started to buzz. I'll be by the gym in a few. Come over! Claire sighed heavily, shaking off the distraction of a cute girl doing elaborate dance routines in skimpy clothing. This was all so tiring and different. How was she even supposed to act? Did the other girls know about Brooke's feelings for her?

Lunch had been much easier, she thought. Having gone in blind and just trying to get introduced to everyone was a challenge, but not one that she was uncomfortable with. But having had that conversation with Brooke in the library, she wondered if they had been appraising her in a different manner than she had first assumed. Despite being cliquey and insular, the cheerleaders did tend to look out for one another - or maybe because of those things they did. Was she an intruder, trying to cut into Brooke's responsibilities to them all? Was she just a curiosity? Was this all a game at her and Brooke's expense?

She lost focus on her worrying when she heard Brooke shout, "Hey girl! Come on!" She was positively beaming. She was slightly disheveled, but she was grinning from ear to ear and waving one of her pom-poms at Claire. Claire hurried over to the group of girls, most of whom seemed very pleased with themselves.

"What'd you think?" Brooke demanded eagerly, closing the last few feet to Claire with bounding steps.

"That was really good, you guys." Claire answered. She did not really put much thought into cheerleading, to know if that was the case or not, but she really did enjoy it. "People almost started to get interested, toward the end."

"Expectations and satisfaction are inversely proportional." Simone interjected, as the two rejoined the group.

"Anybody clapping and chanting with us is better than when I was a freshie!" Norma agreed, shuddering at an apparently bad memory.

"Or at homecoming last year, when we weren't allowed to wear high socks or tights or anything and that blizzard hit the night before!" Brooke added. All of the girls agreed that was probably the worst experience any of them had had in their tenure.

"Well, war stories are fun, but you guys really did do a great job today. You were screwing up as often as not on that gainer less than a week ago, Kate. I'm so proud of you." Simone said, gathering her squad to her as much with charisma as with a wide come hither motion.

"I was at the gymnastics place until closing almost all last week, too." Kate replied.

"It shows. Now, where do you guys wanna go to celebrate? I'm voting not The Burger-Smith, because the service is godawful and I don't want to spend all night there. Suggestions?" A quick consensus agreed that burgers sounded better than pizza, and that ice cream still sounded best of all, so they divvied up into multiple cars to meet at a regional chain diner. Claire kind of hung back as the girls argued who was riding with whom, until Brooke wandered over and grabbed her hand.

"Simone's got us. Come on." Brooke suggested, making very direct eye contact and only half grinning.

"Shouldn't there be one more though?" Claire asked, making Simone snort with amusement and Brooke pout slightly. Simone saved face for both of them by suggesting it was one small perk of being the captain. Also, there was no back seat in her pickup truck. "Why do you drive a truck?" Claire asked, again getting a bit of humor from Simone.

"Because this isn't a teen movie where all the cheerleaders are rich and gorgeous and all the nerds are poor and ugly? Besides, I like my little guy. He runs, has AC, and even if he drinks gas like a drunk does booze, I do love a big motor." Claire was again taken aback at the fact that these were real people with real lives, and not just moving dolls who danced for entertainment. "Now come on, if we're the last ones there I'll never hear the end of the threesome jokes."

This comment made Claire glare at Brooke, who was suddenly watching clouds and birds. Again Claire felt briefly like this might all just be some prank or game the other girls were playing, and she was either the butt of the joke or a very prominent piece within. Brooke's suspicious inattentiveness was worrisome as well. And despite the fact that she had been replaying their last night together in her head since lunch, all of this was making her vacillate between highly interested and completely uninterested.

She thought it was better to ask, than to let her silence speak for her, so she piped up with, "Why would that be something people say?" As though she did not already know.

"Miss 'open lesbian' and miss 'boys are invisible' are delaying my drive. I'm not saying it's plausible, I'm saying it's what people will say." She said like this should have been very obvious. "I'm guessing you don't get told many rumors, huh?" Claire shook her head no as they walked. "You're the smart girl who wants to graduate early so she can go build spaceships or buildings. You don't notice boys, or when you do it's usually not in a flattering way. You don't have any friends because nobody can keep up with what you're saying and when, and you hang around at the roleplay geeks' table to do their math for them for funsies.

She paused for a moment to motion at her truck, unlock the door and enter. When they had gotten situated - Brooke in the passenger seat and Claire in the very cramped middle of the bench - she continued. "And Brooke is a lesbian. One that everyone in the school - somehow - has slept with. She's a lesbian but only _kind of_a lesbian, if you get what I mean wink-wink-nudge-nudge. She only joined the squad because she gets to touch girls and have sleepovers with us. She's good in school because she wants to distance herself from her sluttiness but that just makes it all the more salacious. Any questions?"

"You don't... believe any of that, do you?" Claire asked, embarrassed at knowing what people thought of her, and quite sure she would have been happier had she not.

"Not really. I know at least one of those rumors is true from both of your columns, though. Besides, Brookey here is a virgin and everybody on the squad knows it!" Brooke's head immediately turned to look out the window, not confirming or denying this accusation but obviously also not keen to have this conversation right now. Likely, Claire thought, due to present company.

"So it's just a crap shoot what people say?"

"People work with what they know and extrapolate in extremely unlikely and gross ways. I think at this point, it's just more fun trash talking than it is people knowing secrets. Social media kind of airs everybody's dirty laundry anyway. Do you use any, by the way?" Simone asked, taking the opportunity to look at her passengers during a red light. They were kind of cute together. Especially when they both looked so guilty.

"No. Never been interested in people that much. If I care that much I just actually keep in touch with them rather than trying to communicate through public means." Claire answered, wondering if that was the right response.

"Brooke says the same thing. Jeeze." Simone replied lightly, expecting the next few days or weeks to be entertaining. Though she still thought Brooke had very strange taste in women.

"I mean, we were practically sisters when we were little. Why wouldn't I?" Brooke asked, sounding a bit on edge. "I don't like throwing personal information out for everyone to see, and it's my prerogative if I don't."

"You're paranoid, girl."

"It's well documented. Companies use that shit to try to sell you things. If you're not the consumer, you're the product!"

"Okay, you're not paranoid. You just worry about it too much. Didn't that one book you read use people's social media profiles as a credit score for loans and stuff?" Simone asked almost automatically, as if used to this argument.

Ignoring the last thing Simone had said, Brooke turned to Claire for the first time in several minutes. "You understand, don't you Claire?"

"I mean, yeah. You're not wrong, it's just... I'm kind of ambivalent. I can't escape it, and there's more insidious ways that businesses track your interests anyway. Frankly, if I stop seeing porn ads every time I search a band name on the big content aggregators, then I'd be happy with it."

This gave Brooke an opening to be flirtatious again. So rather than being upset that Claire did not feel as strongly about the subject as she did, she commented eagerly, "You've been watching too much porn then in general, if those are the only ads you see. Naughty girl." Before Brooke could coax an answer from Claire, the car lurched to a stop hard, as Simone threw it in park and ushered them out. They were both glaring at her viciously. Miraculously, they were not the last group to arrive, although they were left with a long wait for their orders.

"That's another reason I like him! Great brakes and lots of weight. Really adds some punctuation to things."

"If your truck is a boy, what's his name?" Brooke asked, having never really wondered before.

"Trucky! What else?" Claire started to laugh at the obvious simplicity, making Brooke feel stupid. The girls got in line, chatting idly about what they were going to have and why. Claire was surprised that such fit girls would eat unhealthy stuff like triple cheeseburgers and big milkshakes, but she figured that following the schedule Brooke had mentioned earlier, it was not like they had no wiggle room in their diets. It also made her think about how much she avoided physical activity and felt lesser for it.

They received their orders after a short while, and after moving chairs or turning in their seats it felt like they were all together. Claire still felt so out of place. It seemed like this was not something she should be a part of. Not because she was unwelcome or unwanted, but because she had not been a part of their accomplishments, and so should not have been part of the celebration. This idea was slightly eased by the way Brooke paid attention to her. It was gentle but consistent, affectionate but casual. Some of the girls on the squad made threesome jokes despite the fact they had been the second-to-last car to arrive, but Brooke and Simone shot them down.

Claire and Brooke took their time with their food, knowing that Simone would be one of the last to leave. Two separate times Brooke stole a fry from Claire's plate, and like at lunch she just shrugged and smiled. There was a strange mix of feeling bossed about and cared for at the same time, that made Claire not want to ask about it in public. She found her gaze lingering for long seconds after the expression both times, Brooke's smile getting proportionally bigger with the length of Claire's gaze.

As the pride over their successful pep rally died out slowly, the conversation turned more regular and fluent. Norma gave Claire her number and vice versa, when a barrage of video links assaulted her phone with band names like, "Railyard Ghosts", "Captain Chaos" and several individual names as well. Norma started gush over the nuances of the music, but Claire was hesitant to actually play anything while they were in a group, since three or four of her friends groaned or threw their pom-poms at her at the mention of the genre.

People started to file out, and Claire and Brooke started to follow. They made a plan for what order the two would be dropped off. When Claire heard Brooke's address, she blurted out, "You still live two miles away! Why didn't you ever come by?" Before clapping her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. Simone started to laugh like she knew more than the both of them, and Brooke smiled sadly.

"I came by like half a dozen times during sixth grade, but you were never home. Your mom was happy to see me as always, but I just figured you were avoiding me and she was covering for you, or something."

"That was the year I took karate, dummy! I told you all about that the summer before. 'My parents say I'm turning into a beautiful young woman and should learn to protect myself just in case.' Ring any bells?" Claire was angry and Brooke was looking even sadder than before. "I barely had a minute to myself that year, between yearbook, that stuff, school, studying and reading days at the library."

"You didn't exactly put in much effort after all that." Brooke pouted.

"I thought you moved! I didn't see you. You never came to the library on the days we used to go, or - god!" She shot back, grabbing Brooke in a big hug in contrast to her hard voice. "We never even had to lose track of each other! We ride the same bus! I missed you!"

"I just thought you needed time. I thought you were upset over the - uh - you know...." She muffled into Claire's shoulder, before realizing and stuttering hard over that statement. Despite all her friends being aware of Brooke's preference, she still did not like to talk details of her love life or lack thereof with them. "I don't know why I picked today. I was feeling confident I guess. After not seeing you the whole year of sixth, and us being in different schools, I tried to make other friends and just let sleeping dogs lie. I thought you would come see me one day if you wanted to keep being my friend."

"So am I making two stops or one?" Simone asked out of nowhere.

"Our houses are both on the way back to yours, why would it even -"

" - Because if you two are going to make up and have sex or whatever I'm not stopping twice just so one of you idiots can walk two miles."

"...You wanna stay for dinner tonight Claire?" Brooke asked, suddenly looking deep into Claire's eyes.

"I don't want to think about food until at least tomorrow morning. But... um... yeah. I'd like that." Claire replied, staring just as intently at Brooke.

"Let's go!" Simone demanded, holding out the last word in exasperation. "If you two were going to put on a show, you could have at least done it first and gotten us a discount." Claire and Brooke backed away from each other warily. They both slowly turned toward Simone, followed her to the truck, and piled in. The drive back to Brooke's house was extremely awkward for the two passengers, while Simone simply looked pleased with herself and the situation.

Being let out on the curb a few doors down from Brooke's house, Simone yelled knowingly out the window, "Be a good girl Brooke, and don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Brooke blushed heavily at this insinuation, and walked Claire back to her house. At the door, she paused and asked, "Claire, are you... interested? In me?" She was avoiding eye contact and trying her hardest to sound confident.

"Interested? I can't imagine why. My bestest and only friend from elementary school who stole my first kiss explodes back into my life like fireworks, telling me she's got the hots for me and that she wants to date. She's gorgeous and outgoing and still somehow knows how to push all my buttons. Sounds positively boring." Claire teased, stepping closer to Brooke. Something about the interaction made Brooke bashful, and she deftly opened the door and backed in, leaving Claire standing outside confused.

After a momentary pause, Claire stepped into the house where she had spent many playdates and sleepovers. Brooke announced her presence. Brooke's mother came from the kitchen and froze. "Claire! Claire Mason? It's been years honey! My god, the last time I saw you, you only came up to here." She gushed, holding her hand up to her shoulder. "What, uh, brings you by? I thought you and Brooke were never going to speak to each other again. It's so great to see you." Brooke's mother hurried over and grabbed Claire in a huge hug. "It's like having my other daughter back, after so long." She added, making Claire feel very strange about the returning feelings she had for Brooke.

"It's... stupid, really. It was just a misunderstanding that we both finally owned up to, I guess." Claire said shamefully. "In sixth grade I was so busy, every time Brooke came over I was gone or busy, and she thought that I had started to hate her. Then after that she stopped trying. I was being selfish and didn't try to come see her ever, until I eventually was sure you guys had just moved away. It's... stupid."

"Oh well. What's a few years between best friends, right?" Brooke and her mother said almost in unison. Brooke rolled her eyes and her mother laughed.

"Brooke told me that you've had some additions to the family since I've been gone?" Claire asked, trying to be polite.

"Sure have! Evan and Carter. They're little angels, but don't let them know that." After saying that, Claire was dragged on a tour of the house. Everything was so similar but still so different. She met Claire's little brothers. One was five and the other about to be five. Everyone in Brooke's family looked so similar, she was sure she would have trouble remembering which was which, but where that might normally bother her, she was just too blissfully happy to have things back the way they belonged to worry. The last stop on their little tour was Brooke's new room. The younger brothers had received the old one when they were born, so Brooke now had the attic to herself.

It was well finished and stylishly furnished, in a way that Claire could only describe as being very Brooke-like. Her mother having gone back to the kitchen, Brooke sidled in closer behind Claire, and wrapping her arms around her waist said, "It feels like the whole world is back to normal, Claire. Even my parents missed you. I missed you." She buried her nose in Claire's hair, inhaling deeply and exhaling shakily. "I thought you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see my face again. I thought I had ruined everything, and I find out you just... forgot about me. I don't know which is worse."

Claire carefully turned around, so not to disturb their embrace and soothed, "I didn't forget about you, Brooke. You made every day brighter for me. You made me laugh and told me secrets and we learned how to be people together. I thought you didn't care about me. You were so shy, I thought I had scared you away being sexual and needy and, just different than you. I thought I ruined everything and you thought I was just some gross girl who wanted you for your body like I thought Darrell did. It went way over my head when you called me that sweet name, and I'm sorry."

Brooke shifted forward until they both fell on the bed. A thrill of excitement ran through Claire for a moment, before being snuffed out by Brooke sitting back up. "You made me confident to speak to strangers. You made me excited to read books I thought were strange, you helped me with my homework all the time. You helped make me who I am today. I only became a cheerleader because I was taking to the extreme the advice you gave me. 'If you don't want to talk to strangers, then make yourself a part of something. Then you can't be strangers because you'll be team mates!'" Brooke said wistfully. "I was so lost without you that first year. I was a wreck. My parents kept threatening to go talk to yours and see why we were fighting, but I didn't want to explain at the time what the... nature of our last meeting had been.

"By the time I was ready to talk about that part of it, I was doing better with my life, and they had mostly dropped it. I think my dad started to piece things together, because he was really sweet to me for the month after I came out, but every time we would do stuff together he asked about you, and said he missed you, and that you were like his other daughter. I didn't have an answer to give him, and that made it hard for him to help me, and hearing your name was just too much to handle most days.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this now." Brooke continued. "I guess, I just wanted to remind you that, you know... you're special to me. You're the only person who I've even seen as a potential partner. And that's probably not a really good attitude to have, and it's unfair to be so serious about all this after just finally catching up with you this morning, but that's how I feel right now."

Claire was speechless for a quite a long while, looking at the floor. "Same goes to you. I didn't really know why I hated Darrell so much. We had gotten along okay in the past. But, he showed interest in me and that disgusted me. Every time I had to think about that - when that stupid friend of his would tease me about it or his big sister came and told me - I hated it. I couldn't see him being affectionate with me. I couldn't conceive of it. But when my mind would end up in those places, I always thought about you. I know we were just little, but I knew that if I had to have a special someone in my class, that it was you. It couldn't be anybody but you, because you understood me and loved me. We had no secrets and we did everything together. Why choose some acquaintance when I could choose my favorite person in the whole world.

"The year we couldn't connect, I was pretty bad off too. I threw myself into everything I could find, just to stay busy. Just so I wouldn't think about you. You never called. I never saw you. You stopped coming to the library and reading to the little kids with me. I thought I scared you away forever. I was forward and you felt pressured - I know how badly you hated feeling pressured - and couldn't even bear to look at me after we kissed. I said I didn't want a BFF, I wanted a lover, and you refused.

"We were both immature. We were fragile and selfish. But if you'll let me... be back in your life... I want to pick back up where we left off. I take that back. I want to pick up a few weeks before we left off. I want to be close to you, regardless of all that other stuff."

"I want that too, Claire. I want to get to know you since you've gotten all serious and grown up some. I want to learn everything about you again, and... if we decide not to hook up, I'll still have gotten the best gift on the planet. Deal?" Brooke asked, holding Claire's hand in both of hers. Claire agreed, and things settled into a companionable silence. That lasted only a few minutes, however, before Brooke's mother called up them.

"Girls, dinner! I made tuna melts, since I know how much Claire loved them!" Claire groaned, sure she was going to clean her plate but regretting every bite she had taken today so far.

"Why does your mom have to be such a good host?" Claire whined, making Brooke giggle.

"Hush, you. If it's that horrible we can go to the gym this weekend. After you help me study tomorrow." Claire, surprising herself, agreed. On the way down the steps to the rest of the house, Claire remembered her parents had no idea where she was, and was currently over two hours later than she normally was. She called to let them know where she was, and received incredulity and glee through the earpiece. She had been right. Everything was once again right with the world, having been so subtly but irreparably wrong before.