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Summary
"Yeah, uhm, Alya..." Fake cough, fake cough. "I'm a bit under the weather. Gotta stay home. Tell Madam Bustier I'm... like, really, really sick."
"Damn, really? I'll see you later, then."Adrien looks back at Alya, worried. "Is 'Nette okay?"
"Nah, she's sick." Suddenly Alya grins. "You should go see her. You know, bring soup or something?"
Adrien nods, accepting the idea. Little do they both know Marinette was gnashed and bloodied, not just with a cold.
