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Chapter Text

If Agatha knew anything, it was that everything becomes more bearable with music. A good soft rock playlist could get her through a whole day of previously put-off chores, the right Lo-fi track had always sent her to sleep on nights when her insomnia was at its worst. That day she ran away from home at the age of seven, all she took was her mother's iPod, a pair of headphones and a tuna sandwich - she ultimately returned home when the battery ran out several hours later.

And when it came to moving - something that always sunk Agatha's spirits, no matter how many times she did it - she had a whole mix CD.

When Callis pulled up to the latest in a string of generic neighbourhoods, Agatha didn't even bother looking out the window. She had been introduced to so many empty houses in the last three years, the novelty had quite worn off. All she cared about at that moment was the only thing that felt familiar - besides the woman beaming next her, attempting to enthuse her daughter about out how nice it is her work had arranged a double story house for them, this time - and ejected a disc from the stereo. Agatha placed the plain CD into its case, a clear recycled holder with the words "Once More Unto The Breach" scrawled on the cover by a permanent marker. She slipped it into the pocket of her hoodie and exited the car once it had come to a stop in the garage.

Agatha grabbed her bag from the backseat and slung it over her shoulder, then stepped inside the house while Callis spoke to the men inside the moving van parked in their driveway. The main room smelled like fresh paint; unsettling to Agatha, so she climbed the staircase in the corner up to the second floor. She entered one of the two rooms upstairs at random. It was bigger than her last bedroom and had a glass sliding door opening onto a small balcony with ugly brown tiles that didn't match their new house's clean exterior. It also seemed to look directly into a window in the house next door to them; Privacy much? 

A loud thud sounded below Agatha's feet; something had obviously been dropped. She sighed and was about to turn around when she caught a flash of gold through the window opposite her. A boy with curly blonde hair had burst into the room and Agatha watched for a moment as he lunged for a dresser and started aggressively pulling objects out one by one. When she started to feel creepy for staring, Agatha turned around and hurried out of the room before the boy could look up and see her.

The living room was already becoming crowded with boxes and Callis stood amongst them, reading the labels and marking each one off on a list in her notebook. Agatha paused on the staircase and leaned over the railing.

"Hey," she said to catch her mother's attention, "There's a weird balcony in your bedroom. You can literally see into the neighbour's house."

Callis looked up from her notes and frowned, "Is it the room with an en-suite?"

"No..."

"Well, then. I'm afraid it's your room with the 'weird' balcony," Callis softly chuckled and turned back to the boxes.

Agatha gave an indignant huff, "Mom, come on. That's so not fair. People can look right into my bedroom."

Callis didn't look up from her list as she shifted out of the way of two moving men lifting Agatha's desk into the house, but answered, "Then I suggest you unpack the curtains first."

***

Agatha's folded sheets and pillowcases rested on the end of her bed, where Callis had placed them over an hour ago. Agatha, rather than attempting to fix, clean or further unpack anything, instead had spread herself out on the grey carpet that covered her bedroom floor. With earphones in - an indie song with soft guitar strumming filling her mind - she struggled to think of someone to miss. Her mother's job as a specialist had been the cause for their frequent relocation over the last few years, and with the possibility of being uprooted to a new hospital in a new town looming nearby at all times, Agatha had long since given up on making connections to anyone she met nowadays. Eventually, she just stopped trying to meet people altogether. 

Homeschooling, Callis had decided several years ago, was the only option that made sense for Agatha, giving how frequently their scenery changed. The educational side worked well enough; Agatha had been practising good self discipline since she was a child and was intelligent enough to already be doing several advanced courses, along with her normal eleventh grade curriculum. On the other hand, contrary to popular belief, homeschooling did not equal no opportunities for socialisation, but did allow Agatha to abuse her ability to stay home, avoiding contact and therefore connection to any peers that she may have been unlucky to come across - and by extent, eventually lose - otherwise.

Her phone buzzed next to her and she snapped out of her trance, reaching for the mobile and holding it above her head - being careful not to drop it onto her face like she had done many times before.

The pop-up read: @witchofthewoods posted a photo.

Agatha considered swiping the notification away, the rational voice in her head reminding her that it wasn't healthy to obsess over her other "family", that scrutinising every update she got into their lives only ever did more harm than good. But, as always before, she clicked the tab and waited for the page to load - Not like I've got anything better to do.

Chapter Text

"I have a surprise for you," Callis said, bouncing into Agatha's room without knocking.

"Is it a lock?" Agatha quipped, looking up from her English workbook.

Callis frowned, silently assuring Agatha that there would be no surprise if it was met sarcasm.

"Alright, alright. Sorry," Agatha smirked and moved several books on her bed aside to make room for her mother. Callis resumed her energetic attitude and settled next to Agatha, both hands behind her back.

"Right, so, this surprise involves something good and something bad," Callis started, not breaking her smile when she saw Agatha's face fall, "Or really, it might be two good things, depending on how you look at it. I definitely only see good, but you might be concerned by the latter, and probably will be, considering the need for the challenge in the first place-"

"Mom."

"Sorry. Anyway, without further ado." If she expected a drum-roll from Agatha, she didn't get one, but still revealed the colourful stub of paper clenched in her right hand. Agatha lunged forward to grab the ticket the second she saw the eccentric red and black lettering spell out the name of her - current - favourite band.

COVEN 66 - One night only, LIVE at the Gavaldon Stadium

Agatha was speechless. Of all the possibilities that had run through her head when she considered what Callis might have had in store for her, concert tickets had not been a thought that even crossed her mind.

"We'll call it an early birthday gift, of sorts," Callis continued, "But like I said, it is a package deal."

There was nothing in that moment that Agatha wouldn't have agreed to, though she barely had time to wonder what the other side of the coin may have entailed, when Callis brought forth her other hand, revealing a second ticket. Confusion creased Agatha's forehead, but when she realised what her mother was implying, she gave an awkward chuckle.

"Oh wow, mum. I didn't think you would want to tag along; I mean, you've always kind of hated rock music, but you did pay for the tickets so who am I to-"

"Oh, no." Callis interrupted with a nervous laugh, "No, darling. Of course I won't be joining you. You know I have a rule of thumb that involves never attending events where I can't hear myself think.  No, the tickets are for you and... a friend."

Agatha wasn't excited about where this conversation was headed, "I don't understand."

Callis sighed, placed both tickets on the bedside table next to the two of them, and reached out to clasp Agatha's hands in her own, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I am becoming very concerned about you." Agatha wanted to move away, but Callis held on tight and pushed through, "I can't remember the last time you told me you met somebody new, or asked me to drop you off at a friend's house. You say you're not lonely, but dear, nobody can go on so long without human contact, without it starting to affect them."

Agatha looked pointedly away and pulled her hands from her mother's grasp, crossing her arms over her chest when Callis began speaking again.

"So, the deal is this: You may go to the 'Coven 66' concert in two weeks time if, and only if, you find a peer to accompany you."

Agatha whipped her head back to stare at her mother, mouth falling slightly open in disbelief, "Mum, that's insane."

"Not nearly as insane as refusing to speak to more than one person for three years," Callis reminded her. Then she climbed off of Agatha's bed, and scooped up the tickets from her daughter's end table before sweeping towards the door and closing it behind her again, "It is all up to you, though."

Agatha grabbed her pillow, gripping and twisting it - screaming into it felt a little melodramatic, though she considered the option. Instead, she collapsed backwards on her bed and placed the pillow over her face, muffling the sounds of Callis shuffling around the kitchen downstairs.

Okay, she thought to herself, Not ideal.

Callis knew very well that Agatha wasn't going to let an opportunity like this slip past her, no matter how inconvenient the means to achieve it were. She was clever, and that required Agatha to be even more so if she ever wanted to get the upper hand of a situation. There was no question about it, Agatha would get her golden ticket through any means possible - she just hoped she could think of an ulterior method of doing so before giving in to Callis's challenge.

Agatha tossed the pillow off and heard the soft landing it made on the carpet next to her. She sighed and rolled onto her side, but as she reached down to pick the pillow up again, her eyes met two strikingly blue ones through her open curtains. The boy residing in the room across from hers - that she had caught several more glimpses of since she moved in a week ago - had apparently only just noticed the strange viewing arrangements their respective windows allowed them. He looked just as surprised as Agatha felt the moment the two of them made eye contact, but recovered quickly and put up his hand in a welcoming wave. He had a wide grin that affected all of his features at once. It was a smile that looked so genuine, the boy was probably used to people melting within seconds of first laying eyes on him: normal people, that is.

Agatha only thought to herself how uncomfortable it must be to move every single muscle in your face when you try to smile and hopped off the bed to close the curtains without offering so much as a nod of acknowledgement in her neighbour's direction. With that awkward exchange taken care of, she turned and began to pace across her room, aware of how much static her socks must've been charging while she walked back and forth over the carpet. She wracked her brain for excuses to make, bargains to plead for, even pitiful begging tactics that she knew would never work on her mother. When Callis called her down for dinner several minutes later, Agatha felt no closer to those tickets. She dragged herself down the staircase, not bothering to wash up beforehand or be at all quick in getting to the dinner table. Callis had already dished up for herself and begun to dig in by the time Agatha reached the kitchen and pulled a plate from the cupboard above her head.

"When you're finished with your food, I've got a batch of brownies in the oven I want you to try," Callis called over her shoulder, not seeing the burning look her daughter was trying to redirect away from her and towards the large pot of potatoes on the stove - who were quite innocent in the whole matter, "It's a new recipe. I was thinking of making some this weekend and bringing them 'round to the neighbours."

Agatha settled herself at the table across from Callis and only half-listened as her mother continued. "It's always good to meet a few friendly faces when you're new. Did I tell you? I met the woman just across from us - Uma, I think her name was - and her husband, when I was bringing in the bins yesterday. They seemed nice, but it was just a quick hello."

Callis only took two seconds to pause and swallow a mouthful of mince, "And then just to our left, there's a young man - well, I wouldn't say young, but certainly younger than you'd expect for someone with a teenager,"

For the first time since she'd sat down, Agatha looked up from the food she'd been lazily poking with her fork, "Surely, you don't mean-"

"The boy across from you, yes. I believe he's about your age, though I only got a look at him when they were headed off yesterday morning. He and his father - at least, I think that's his father - were on their way to the school terribly early..."

Callis did not stop her musing, and when she had recounted every person from their new neighbourhood she had so far seen or spoken to, began explaining why exactly this new brand of brownie mix would be the winner she'd been waiting for - "No more charred outsides or under-cooked insides!" - Agatha had long since stopped paying attention, instead focusing on the plan that had finally begun to formulate in her mind.

***

By four o'clock the following day, Agatha rested her back against the front door of their house. To the unaware passerby, she would have looked casual, sitting on the floor of their porch, scanning the pages of a thin novel in her hands, blacks earphones in - she was, in fact, not casual. Not at all.

Not a single page of her book had been turned in more than an hour, as every thirty seconds she glanced at the house to her left, and had even clean forgotten to press play on her "Chill Out" playlist after placing a bud in each ear. She kept shifting sitting position - cross-legged, knees tucked in, legs stretched out in front of her, right leg on top, left leg on top - until finally, after twenty minutes had passed since the blindingly blonde boy had returned from school, Agatha stood up and made her way towards the stranger's home, practising her proposition every step of the way. 

Chapter Text

He thought her hair looked rather nice when it wasn't dirty. Today it was.

To be fair to her, it was the first time Tedros had seen it looking a mess; not that he saw it, or her, all that often. He was well aware of the strange positioning of his window that allowed him to look directly into the adjacent house, and had often wondered as to why the architect who built the nearly identical homes had decided to allow one to have a balcony, but not the other. Once, on a dare, he'd even tried to make it across the gap and onto the opposite landing: the broken wrist he gained from that experience deterred him from attempting it again in the future. He was not, however, aware of the new residents intent on occupying the empty house for the first time since Tedros had moved into the neighbourhood. 

It was late in the day, more than a week back, and Tedros had only just woken from a much needed nap to the sound of his phone ringing on the coffee table in front of him. He saw the digital clock splashed on his screen before he answered the call, and was already halfway up the staircase by the time he managed even the first word of his stuttering excuse. The device died in his hand before he opened his bedroom door; because, of course this would happen to him. The universe would never let him get off easy with only one unlucky inconvenience. It always had to come in threes - except on those special days when it came in fours, or sevenths. He was violently pulling at drawers and digging through messy piles of t-shirts for just one decent button up, mind so focused on mapping the layout of every possible nook and cranny he might have to search to find his only appropriate pair of leather shoes - in the likely event they wouldn't be hiding anywhere remotely near his cupboard - that he didn't have the thought nor time to look up and notice the girl in a black hoodie just across from him, staring through the window with her large dark eyes. That is, not until she had already turned around, and all he was left to glimpse as he lunged for a phone charger laying in a terrible knot by his window sill, was a bob of shiny black hair, sprinting out of sight.

Two days ago, as he'd hopped out of his best friend Chaddick's car after Tuesday afternoon rugby practice, he spotted her on the floor above him, lying out on the balcony just across from his window; in pyjamas at four o'clock, earphones in as she tapped out a melody with her left hand on the wall. It wasn't the first time since the day she'd moved in that Tedros had stumbled upon a random view of his mysterious new neighbour: when she was surrounded by at least three different electronic devices and stacks of differently sized books on her floor, or putting out the bins far too late at night, or yanking on her dull beige curtains that often got caught and stubbornly refused to move until she hauled herself on top of her desk chair to unhook them from the top. It was this particularly sunny afternoon, however, that Tedros felt some significant shift in his mind, a thought slotting into place that seemed to hold a realisation, that lead to the first explanation he had for his strange curiosity with the girl still lounging above his head: He had never seen someone so unaware of the passage of time.

He couldn't tell from his pieced together glances whether she spent her life in perpetual boredom or was fulfilled in her slow-paced solitude in a way no one else would ever be. Unshackled by the notions of "living every day like it was your last", she lived like she would live a million more days. Today could be wasted and forgotten because tomorrow was a certainty. He didn't think the word "nice" came close to encompassing the equally aristocratic, yet distinctly nihilistic air which surrounded her entire being, topped off by an unknown music eternally in her ears. On that day, for the first time, a more suitable word floated down from the balcony. She looked untouchable.

This would be a good time to make it clear, I'm not a stalker, was the thought that crossed Tedros's mind yesterday, when he abruptly snapped to attention, aware of how hard he had been straining to recognise any part of the loud music blasting out the sliding door, across the gap and through his own window, where it had distorted to sound like nothing more than muffled vibrations, blurry sound.

He found himself unconsciously repeating that thought when he answered the door this morning. Reminding himself that people-watching was not a full-proof character study - it was a creepy hobby - and that he didn't actually know anything about the girl that marched up to his front porch with a gusto Tedros could only liken to the style in which young soldiers carried themselves when they would appear to deliver a telegram inscribed with shocking news in the pivotal scene of those period films his mum used to watch - Tedros almost laughed at how suddenly that incredibly specific image came to mind.

He noticed the oily sheen that covered her hair - pulled back into a short ponytail - and then wondered what exactly his obsession with her dark locks was. Although, after standing for several seconds in a much closer vicinity than he had ever previously been, he felt his eyes begin shifting quickly to take in every dark feature that stood out from the stark ivory of her skin. The brown eyes, round and big in a way that some writers would describe as "bulging out of her skull" while others would opt for "wider than the sky and deeper than the sea, even without their hue." Just above them, a pair of naturally thick eyebrows, obviously as yet unacquainted with a pair of tweezers - that rueful antagonist of any experimental adolescent girl - and just below, hollow circles marking her face in a way that told any onlooker more honestly about her sleep schedule than she had ever verbally revealed. 

"Hey," she spoke first, "I'm Agatha."

Tedros recognised that she was trying to make her voice sound deeper than it was and how it made her whole speech sound flat - it was something Tedros would often do in anxious situations. It did not happen as he returned the greeting to Agatha, as he was not anxious; only increasingly curious with every second. 

Agatha spoke fast and relayed a story about a deal with her mom. Something to do with being new in town and making friends, and then she had a twenty in her hand.

"If you could just..." She moved her hands around a lot while she struggled to explain, "Tell her we hung out. She's planning on introducing herself to your dad on Saturday-"

"Stepdad," he corrected without thinking. She looked frustrated by the interruption - by the whole conversation - but didn't let it stop her.

"Sure, your stepdad, whatever, I think it would just save us both a lot of trouble." Her left hand jumped between moving restlessly in her pocket and clutching at the strap of her satchel bag. Her right twirled the bill held out in his direction.

Tedros had no clue what to do. He felt awkward standing motionless in the doorway but inviting her in seemed pretty much out of the question after that offer. He hadn't yet made up his mind on what to say, so he reached out and slowly took the money, just for something to do.

"What would you be doing instead?" he looked up, it felt like the right moment for eye contact, but she was focused on pulling something fragile out of her bag. When she finally freed a book - an old paperback of The Great Gatsby - from its leathery confines, she held it out in explanation.

"Don't worry, I'll make myself scarce. There's bound to be a park bench around here, somewhere."

"There is," Tedros added, trying to be helpful, "A park, that is. Just up the road. It has... benches."

Tedros cringed at how quickly and completely he had lost every shred of charm that was usually such a staple of his personality. Agatha gave him a confused eyebrow raise, but still snorted as she worked to place the book back into her bag and fasten it.

"I'll disappear around, let's say, six? So just remember that, if she asks..." Agatha's voice trailed off again when she met Tedros's eyes, for what she hoped was the last time, "You can tell her we played video games, or something."

Tedros internally reminded himself not to be surprised when people he didn't know turned out to be nothing like he'd pictured. This strange girl seemed to him so much like an ethereal painting that he had only ever seen from afar, only to have it suddenly hung up on his bedroom wall overnight. It was easier now to see all the little imperfections, the cracks in the canvas and smudges in the paint. At one point in life - he tried not to think of the person he was only a year ago - it would've made more sense to him to have them covered up or to simply find a new muse, but all he could feel now was an even more desperate curiosity to know how every flaw had come to be. Why Agatha's mother felt the need to blackmail her daughter into befriending him. The whole scenario made little sense to him at the moment it happened, and he hadn't yet made up his mind on what to say or even think about the offer, when he was pulled out of his rambling thoughts by a small cough from Agatha.

He had taken far too long to answer and she had been standing there awkwardly for at least twenty seconds already. She still stood facing him, but her boots were angled away, arms folded over her chest - a stance that told him she was practically ready to run.

"Uh..." his brain stuttered to prevent him from wording any thought he'd had in the last two minutes, then finally allowed him to state the barest minimum of an answer, "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Agatha grinned in relief, before she could stop herself, "Great. So, you're set on what to do tomorrow?"

"I've got it, yeah-" Tedros was seriously going to punch himself if he said "yeah" one more time, "I mean, it's no problem." He tried to mirror her naturally wide smile but probably used too many teeth.

"Cool man, thanks," her shoulders visibly relaxed, "You're really saving me with this."

She hung back politely for several more seconds, in case Tedros had anything more to add. When he didn't, she threw him one more small smirk and turned away without another word. He watched her walk back to her house - clearly trying not to move too quickly - and was about to head into his own home again when he heard Agatha shout out to him.

"Hey, sorry! I forgot to- um, what's your name?"

He blinked and gave a short burst of laughter - he hadn't even realised he'd forgotten to mention his own name. "Tedros," he called back. Agatha nodded once and threw up two thumbs to signal she'd heard him, then disappeared through her front door.

Tedros closed his eyes as he he reentered his living room, and leaned against the door with a long exhale.

Lance turned around on the couch and glanced away from the TV to ask Tedros what had taken so long. Tedros didn't hear and continued to stare ahead without taking anything in, only replaying the conversation in his head. He made his way towards the staircase across the room and didn't hear his stepfather calling out to him till he reached the first step.

"Who were you talking to out there?"

Tedros didn't meet Lance's eyes, "Neighbour. The new one, her daughter. She..." He didn't know how to even begin explaining the talk he'd just had outside. But the man opposite him settled against an armrest casually in his t-shirt and jeans, hair tied up in a loose knot - the usual after-work getup - and carried on where Tedros left off.

"Oh, over at number five? I've seen the mum a couple times." Lance turned back to the TV while he spoke, "They seem friendly, if a little odd."

Tedros couldn't have said it better himself.

Chapter Text

Agatha was in the process of stuffing a thick wool scarf into her satchel when she heard the faint buzzing of the doorbell downstairs. She paid it no heed and walked over to her bedside table to grab a notebook out of the bottom drawer. She checked the inside flap to be sure her trusty red pen was still nestled in its pouch. When she'd dropped that into her bag too and zipped it up - with just enough space left to steal a packet of chips on her way out - her door burst open without warning, again. She didn't bother looking up at her mother, until Callis spoke.

"I'm sorry, what?" Agatha spun on the heel of her boot, her bag swinging in one hand.

"I said your friend is downstairs. He's waiting at the door."

"He- What? What do you mean? Who..." Agatha's eyes widened in realisation at the same moment Callis raised one eyebrow in question.

"The blond one from next door; he said his name was Tedros. Weren't you two supposed to- "

"Oh, yeah!" Agatha interrupted, feigning a reaction to her supposed forgetfulness, "Obviously, yeah. Sorry he's just- He's early. Let me just..." She threw the satchel across one shoulder and shoved through the doorway, trying not to sprint down the staircase. She paused next to the front door, drawing back a curtain to peek out the window. And there he was, one hand on her porch railing, the other in the pocket of his jacket. 

Really, thought Agatha, throwing the door open, how can someone be this thick?

Tedros looked up with his trademark smile but was interrupted in the midst of saying hello.

"What are you doing here?" Agatha said, closing the door carefully behind her, so as not to be heard.

"Six o'clock, isn't it?" he produced a large and probably very expensive phone from his hoodie and glanced at the screen, "Well, five to. Close enough."

Agatha had been hoping this was some form of strange joke but it seemed Tedros was entirely serious in his motive for showing up at exactly the right time, which was exactly the wrong thing to do. 

"No, I mean... Why are you here at all?"

Now it was Tedros's turn to look confused, "You paid me- "

"Keep your voice down," Agatha shushed. They both instinctively glanced towards the window, half expecting to see two large eyes watching their meeting. When Agatha was sure they were not being spied on she turned back to Tedros.

He tried again, quieter this time, "You told me you needed a fake friend, for whatever reason, and paid me twenty dollars to fill in. So, here I am."

"What? No, I'm not trying to prostitute your friendship, okay. I paid you to lie."

"Yes, I know that. But you see," Tedros leaned back against their porch railing, "I do have a slight moral problem with that." He saw Agatha scoff, and questioned before she had the chance to rebuff him, "Why are you so adverse to my company anyway?"

She folded her arms and looked down at her badly scuffed black boots, "It's not your company, it's just... Any company."

"Why?"

"That's not really any of your business," she shrugged, looking up at him with intensely dark eyes.

"You kind of made it my business when you decided to procure my services as a stand-in for your apparently non-existent social life, new girl."

Jack-ass. Agatha could barely stop herself from gaping at his audacity, she didn't owe this guy anything and told him as much, "I don't have the energy to stand here having a pointless argument. So, I'm going to walk away now and go to the park; alone."

"What a coincidence, I was just about to do the same thing." His face was completely serious, except for the light blue eyes that were unable to mask how much he was enjoying tormenting Agatha, "Of course, I was planning to take the car, but that's only because I'd prefer to make it there and back before sunrise."

"What are you talking about?"

Tedros shrugged, "Just a heads up, that corner I said the park was just around might actually be several corners; a couple blocks really. So, unless you want to spend the whole night walking..."

Agatha covered her face with her hands to hide her frustration. She was stuck. If she simply stepped back into the house, Callis would know she'd been lying about her "new friend" and the alternate option, to wander aimlessly for several hours around a neighbourhood she didn't know, did not seem any more preferable. She gripped the strap of her satchel with both hands to avoid strangling the boy in front of her. No words came out when she tried to speak, only an embarrassing sputter of noises that showed the arrogant blond that he had won. He turned from her without a word and Agatha caught a glimpse of a small smirk turning up the corner of his mouth as he half-jogged to the car he had parked in her driveway. He slid into the the driver's seat and turned on the engine but did not move. He waited for less than a minute, pointedly not looking away from the steering wheel, until he heard the passenger door open and felt someone fall heavily into the seat next to him, before slamming the door again.

Agatha ignored Tedros when he glanced over at her with a wide grin and eyes that were probably shining with glee. Instead she dropped her overfull bag at her feet and muttered, "It's just a ride, because you offered. We are not hanging out."

Tedros let out a light chuckle, not bothering to hide it, and pulled away much faster than was strictly necessary.

When they had been driving for two or three minutes without a word exchanged between them, Tedros began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He considered leaning one arm against the window next to him in an effort to look nonchalant, but a more dominant part of Tedros's brain knew he was not nearly a confident enough driver to drive one-handed. He ended up gripping the steering wheel tighter with both hands. 

"You got anything to listen to?" Agatha supplied as, what Tedros hoped to be, a potential ice-breaker.

"I mean, not exactly." Tedros didn't keep CD's in the car, or buy them to begin with.

Agatha made a unintelligible noise under her breath, then asked, "What about an AUX?"

Tedros momentarily released one hand from the steering wheel to scratch at the nape of his neck, "Uh, no. Haven't got one of those... But hey, you know what?" He clicked a large knob on his console and then twisted it to turn up the volume.

The radio DJ's voices faded in, they were just wrapping up a call with someone. The person had phoned in to request a song, which then began with an energetic beat. It was one Tedros was familiar with, having heard it bounce around the top ten charts for the last week or so on his morning commutes to school. Lance knew all the words and could not be swayed from singing them at the top of his lungs at any chance he got. Tedros was about to turn up the catchy tune when he noticed a roll of Agatha's eyes as she slouched lower in her seat.

"Oh, now I'm getting it." Tedros said.

"Getting what?"

"The whole 'loner in her bedroom listening to alternative music that you think I've never heard of' thing." He shrugged, "No, really. The whole vibe makes sense now. You're like one of those girls that thinks they're better than everyone because they don't like Taylor Swift."

"You don't know the first thing about me." Agatha tried to restrain herself, it wasn't worth getting worked up over the human Labrador seated next to her - but she felt the need to defend herself, "I'm not pissed over the pop music. I just can't..." She threw up her hands in frustration, trying to articulate herself without sounding crazy, "I mean, who just puts on the radio and doesn't care what gets played?"

Only then did Tedros chance a look towards the girl on his right, "What?"

"And you're telling me you don't own a single CD, not even an AUX cord. Are you serious?" She shook her head, crossing her arms once again. She could see the way Tedros's eyebrows had bunched above his eyes, nearly hidden by the mess of curls falling across his forehead in a would-be fringe.

"I'm sorry," he said after a short pause, "I'm confused."

Agatha dragged a hand through her own hair, only adding excess oil onto it, and took a breath before explaining herself. "I'm good at music, not much else. It's like a second language to me. But it needs to make sense to be understood; you can't just string random words together and expect them to form a sentence."

Agatha paused for a moment in case Tedros had regretted asking in the first place. He stayed silent and waited for her to continue.

"But it's more than the order you play songs in, or grouping artists based on genre. It all depends on circumstance." She was speaking faster, and louder, without knowing it. Eager, despite herself, to share her theories, "Usually a combination of emotion and situation. I mean you wouldn't start cracking jokes at your great aunt's funeral, just like you wouldn't introduce..." she thought for a second, then chuckled, "I don't know, 'geopolitical tensions' or something, at a party."

"Well, it depends on the party." Tedros quipped.

"Exactly!" Agatha said, still smiling, "Circumstance dictates the need to constantly be aware of choosing the right thing to say. To me, music is like that. As expressive and specific as speech, and as necessary to curate."

Tedros didn't immediately respond, thinking over Agatha's rant, desperate not to say anything stupid.

"So, when the music is out of place with the conversation..." He started, but wasn't sure how to finish. It was enough of a question for Agatha to jump in again.

"Music inappropriate to the situation is... Unbearable." Tedros could see her shoulders visibly tense at the thought. "And generic music is like small talk."

"Generic?" he asked.

Agatha gestured towards the radio. "Playing for the sake of something to fill the silence. It's a waste of sound."

Tedros could see the park ahead, just at the end of the lane. "But, you're not anti-popular music?"

"I'm not anti- any kind of music. I think every song ever written has had a time and place when it made sense to play it." She shrugged, and began to fiddle with her seatbelt, "Some just get played more often than they should."

The car rolled to a stop, parked next to a large and lusciously green field. Several benches lined the edges of a playground built within a fenced off area to the right, while a hiking trail disappeared into a cluster of trees on the far end. Next to the nearest swing set was a shady tree, protecting an empty picnic table from the late afternoon rays overhead. Agatha set her sights on it and was halfway out the car by the time it had fully stopped moving. Before she could sprint away though, she stopped to poke her head back through the doorway and address the boy still sitting in the driver's seat.

"For the record, I also definitely don't think I'm better than everyone else, just for being pedantic."

He looked up and knotted his eyebrows into another deep frown Agatha was already getting used to. "Pedantic isn't the word I would use."

"What word would you use?"

"I don't know yet." He looked deeply into her eyes for as long as she would let him - no more than three seconds total - and practically jumped out of his seat when she made to turn away again, "Not to ruin your reading time, but..."

Agatha looked back at him and he swore her grimace was only masking what might've been a small smile, because she shrugged and tossed her satchel back into the car, taking only her phone and her signature black earphones, both of which she stuffed into her back pocket. When she turned to make her way across the park, he felt confidant enough that she meant for him to follow.

Chapter Text

"After that I had a big thing for Death Cab for Cutie."

"And what are they?" Tedros smirked, "Heavy metal with satanic cult undertones?"

Agatha couldn't help but crack a smile, "Sure, let's go with that." They were slowly walking towards the middle of the park, and the only bench shaded from the warm late afternoon sun. Tedros kept asking Agatha questions and she'd forgotten to pretend she didn't want to answer. It helped that he quickly realised the best thing to ask her about was music: what she liked, what she didn't like, what bands burned out after their first album, who deserved more hype for their lyrics but had no skill for sound mixing. He tried to take in as much info as she threw at him but most of it went in one ear and out the other; it didn't stop him from enjoying the way her voice slowly started to get lower the more comfortable she became.

"So, what's your next 'big thing?'" he said, falling onto the bench.

"Have you heard of Coven 66?" Tedros scooted over to make room for Agatha, and she saw the furrowed look on his brow, "Never mind, a lot of people haven't. The basic idea is: a year ago they're just three girls in a garage uploading videos on YouTube and two weeks ago they released their second top ten single." She pulled her phone from her back pocket and scrolled until she found a photo of the band's new album art.

"So that one there's Anadil - lead bassist - and next to her is Dot, she's trained to play like seven or eight instruments but officially she's on drums." She pinched the photo to zoom in on a tall girl with red streaks in her hair that Tedros thought actually looked familiar. "That's Hester, lead guitar. She's also on vocals but everyone knows she was basically pressured into it by the other two. She's just..." Agatha shrugged and a pink tinge coloured her cheeks when she realised how much she was fawning over her to Tedros.

"Incredible." She finished and pulled the phone back.

Tedros nodded, "They sound great."

Agatha shrugged again and put a leg up on the seat next to her. "Yeah. Sound-wise, they actually remind me a lot of The Pretty Reckless." Once more she noticed the unmasked confusion that spread across Tedros's face - he wasn't good at hiding it.

"Dude, come on." Without thinking Agatha grabbed the earphones dangling from her pocket and plugged them into her phone. She opened another app and tapped several times until she found the playlist she was looking for. "Here," she handed one earpiece to Tedros and took the other for herself.

It started with a slow riff on an electric guitar, until a second one came in to interrupt, much louder than the first. Along with it came a steady drum beat. It was only when the singer began her aggravated lament that Tedros's eyes widened.

Agatha noticed, "She was only sixteen when she recorded this." Tedros's eyes widened more, if that was possible. He listened to the whole song. He'd started tapping one hand on the wood in the space between the two of them about halfway through the song, but it took him another verse until he really got the hang of the rhythm. 

Almost as soon as the song ended Agatha began to gush about another with the same chord progression and rock feel, but a completely reinvented melody. Tedros moved in closer to get a look at the title and Agatha paid no mind to it.

She kept being reminded of other artists, choosing new songs for Tedros to listen and nod in approval to. Each one was a different genre and yet he understood what she meant when she claimed several had the same mood.

"Wait, I know this one!" Tedros nearly shouted with glee, glancing around to make sure he hadn't disturbed any of the nearby families.

"Really, Billy Idol?" Agatha asked.

"Yeah," Tedros's proud smirk fell suddenly, "but..."

"But what?"

"But I only ever heard it in Flushed Away." He rolled his own eyes before Agatha inevitably could; she probably thought he was an idiot, and maybe he was - Why couldn't you just say you knew  the song and shut up?

He was pulled out of his own internal chiding when he heard loud, scratchy chuckles from his left. When Agatha saw Tedros's fallen expression she tried to keep her laughter under control.

"Look, I get that I'm not some maestro-"

"No, it's not that." She covered her face with her hands, finally settling herself, "I'm sorry, it's just... I only started listening to Leonard Cohen because of Shrek."

Agatha lowered her hands and locked eyes with Tedros for a moment before they both burst into hysterics. It was like a competition between two sick dogs to see who could bark the loudest. They settled down to giggles and finally a last cough from Agatha after a minute. Tedros had one arm slung across the back of the bench which Agatha tried to punch playfully, but it was counterproductive to defusing the awkward tension.

"Okay, that makes me feel a whole lot better." Tedros smiled at the girl next to him, though she didn't see. She glanced down at her boot, the one that was being scuffed up even more as she scraped the dirt with every backwards swing of her leg.

When she didn't respond Tedros tried to think of another question, not wanting to lose the good mood they had created a minute ago. 

"So, do you plan on going into music?"

She shook her head slowly and didn't look up, "Not a chance."

"Don't you play anything?"

"Nope."

"You just listen?"

"Yup."

"Well, then." Tedros said, tapping her dirtied shoe with his own, "Maybe you'd make a good DJ."

Agatha snorted, "Oh yeah, I sure am life of the party." She was turning her phone over in her hands, wrapping and unwrapping the earphone cords around it to calm the sudden reappearance of her social anxiety.

"Hey."

She looked to her right and saw the Labrador grinning at her again - wide and full of teeth that were almost too white to look at. But at least he sounded genuine when he spoke.

"You're not as bad as you think."

There was a warm breeze just barely unsettling Agatha's hair where it touched the top of her shoulders. The noises of children surrounding her and Tedros had ceased, and she wondered whether there was anyone left in the park besides them, though she didn't care enough to check.

Tedros jumped up, shocking Agatha out of the slight trance the summer atmosphere of the park had put her in.

"Damn, what time is it?" Tedros started frantically emptying his pockets onto the bench next to him.

Agatha stuttered and turned her phone screen back on, "Uh, just after seven." She couldn't believe so much time had already passed. She tried to think of a snarky joke about how the outing hadn't turned out as terrible as she feared, but when she looked up Tedros had vanished. She heard her name being called from behind and spun in her seat. Tedros was halfway back to the car, doing some weird backwards jog and yelling loud enough to disturb everyone in the park - which turned out to be no one, Agatha realised with a quick glance around her.

"Left my phone in the car, meet me there!" was all Tedros offered as explanation.

By the time Agatha reached the vehicle, Tedros was already waiting inside, rapidly tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear.

"I know, I'm a rat with time management." She heard him say as she opened the door and slid back into the passenger seat. She only caught half of the phone conversation as Tedros tried to pacify the person on the other end.

"Yeah. Yeah, twenty minutes tops. I'll explain when I get there, unless you'd rather I talk and drive. I'm sorry."

Agatha didn't want to make it seem like she was eavesdropping so she put in her earphones and looked out the window of the still car - she didn't turn on the earphones, of course, as she was indeed eavesdropping.

"I've been forgetful since we were kids, what on earth made you think that was gonna change all of a sudden. Again, doesn't mean I'm not extremely sorry. Okay? Yes. Love you."

Agatha blinked at the last two words. Not for any particular reason, she told herself. They just... sounded weird coming from him.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned back to Tedros, who'd already started the car.

"Sorry about that," he said, not looking at her, "Gotta cut things short. I'm actually late for something."

"For what?" Agatha blurted, no filter, like it was any of her business.

Tedros didn't seem to mind. "Dinner, my girlfriend's had reservations booked for a month and like a dolt I completely forgot - not like she didn't remind me less than twelve hours ago."

Agatha nodded with feigned interest, relationship drama bored her, "Oh, your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, her name's Yara. She's..." he blew out a puff of air and rolled his eyes, "the most patient person in the world. From that spectacle you'd think I'm taking the piss but honestly, this is the second time this week I've almost missed a date."

Agatha made a vague noise of agreement and settled back on one arm to stare out the window again. It was a faster drive than before and within a few minutes they were pulling up outside her house. She unbuckled and reached for her satchel, suddenly desperate to get back inside her own room and isolate. She was stopped by a goodbye from Tedros.

"Yeah, bye. And um..." she paused as she opened the door, "Thanks."

"You too. I'll probably always think twice before turning on the radio now." He didn't sound like it bothered him.

"Well," Agatha stepped out of the car without looking back, "Next time I'll bring an AUX cord."

"There'll be a next time?"

She stopped, then leaned down to look at the lopsided smile Tedros sported. She'd come to realise he used that smile as a distraction, a means to blind people with his charms, when really his eyes gave a much more truthful indication of his emotions. Right now, they were begging. It didn't make sense to her, but she couldn't help mirroring his strange grin. 

"Enjoy your date." She closed the door and sprinted up her porch steps, stopping at her front door to glance back as Tedros gave a last wave and sped away.