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Biana Vacker is having a terrible, horrible, no good, day.
Ae couldn’t tell what it is that makes it so- awful. But it fills aer with boiling annoyance at every moment that ae has to suffer through.
First, it’s aer teacher’s nasally voice that makes Biana want to deck him in the face.
The way his head tilts upwards, and the smug look on his face when ae gets a question wrong. And the way that he writes his notes, making his movements as dramatic as possible, just so that Biana knows what he’s doing.
He’s writing to aer father.
Because that’s what Alden had asked him to do after all, to tell him what he needed to teach his daughter. But all of them knew that wasn’t the case. Biana scowled at the thought of going home.
Aer father would yell at aer.
The pencil that ae had been holding against the table with a shaking fist snaps, the extra graphite chipping off and falling onto the floor. Aer professor snorts, tapping his hands to the desk as he scribbles down more of Biana’s failures.
Then it’s the noises of the hallway.
The bright bubbling laughter and the sound of conversation and the jostling of shoulders and the slam of lockers. It makes Biana’s head want to explode and ae hates it here. More than anything in the world. Ae would give up everything to trade positions with Fitz right now, wherever he is.
Ae’re not even to lunch yet, and everyone in aer immediate vicinity is giving aer a headache. Especially aer “friends” who chat away about something. Ae can’t afford to focus on what it is right now, or else ae might actually lose aer cool.
Biana also manages to bump into Marella, who gives aer a withering glare that makes the back of Biana’s neck burn in shame. Ae drop aer eyes to the ground, and all of the bubbling anger turns to heavy shame, that weighs aer down like a rock, deep within aer stomach.
Bad time to run into an ex, Biana realizes as ae rushes off to ability detecting. If today had started off as a bad day, then it had progressed into the worst day. Biana feels like absolute shit. Aer legs hurt from tackle bramble and ae don’t smell good because of gym and aer teacher hates them and aer friends don’t care and it’s aer fault that Marella’s mad and now they have a pop quiz in ability detecting of all classes and Biana just broke aer last fucking pencil.
Ae groan, gently plopping aer head down on aer desk to let the smooth wood cool aer down.
Biana gives aerself three deep breaths to completely break down. Ae can feel the tears burning at the corners of aer eyes, and aer breathing get shallower as ae fiddle with the bottom of aer cape, brushing aer fingers against the rough blue fabric.
Then suddenly it stops.
Not aer mental breakdown of course, that will have to wait until Biana can release it at home, but all signs of physical distress are gone, and Biana lifts aer head up from the desk, plastering a smile on aer face.
Nothing is wrong of course, because Biana is a Vacker, and Vackers are perfect.
The teacher is passing out the pop quizzes, and the world goes on as if nothing happened. As if Biana isn’t suffering, as if it doesn’t care. (It doesn’t.)
Before the teacher can get to their area, Biana pokes the person sitting in front of aer, waiting for them to turn around so that ae can ask them if ae can borrow a pencil.
After two taps, the girl turns around, her braided hair whipping behind her as she turns to look Biana in the eye.
As soon as they make eye contact, Biana freezes, looking down at aer hands.
Shit.
Ae cannot do people. Ae suck at talking and looking people in the eyes. This was a very bad idea.
“Biana look at me while I’m talking. Chin up!” The ghost of a hand grabs aer chin, wrenching aer head up high.
Vackers stand tall.
“Spit it out! If you want something, you have to tell me.”
“Speak up, child! I can’t hear anything when you mumble like that.”
Vackers speak clearly.
Biana focuses on the tone of aer voice, hoping it carries over the noise of the rest of the class. Ae try to make it smooth, like it’s nothing out of aer day to ask a simple question and receive and even simpler answer.
“Can I borrow a pencil?”
Biana stops breathing for the millisecond it takes the other girl to respond.
“Sure.”
She turns around in her seat and starts rummaging through her bag, looking for her pencil case presumably. Biana smiles, at least ae can do one thing right.
After a moment, the girl turns back, her brows a little lower on her forehead as she hands the pencil off to Biana, giving it up with fragile fingers.
Their hands touch while holding the pencil, and red alarm sirens go off in Biana’s little brain. Knock it off. Ae think to aerself as ae take the pencil, shifting it to aer left hand.
“It’s a Raptors pencil, from one of their games. I hope you don’t mind.”
Biana’s face lights up. “Really?”
The girl nods enthusiastically, her braids bobbing up and down with her head. “Do you like ‘em?”
Like them? The Raptors are Biana’s favorite bramble team of all time. Ae had been trying to beg aer parents to take aer to a match for years now. Ae could name all of the team and their positions in aer sleep.
Ae open aer mouth but shut it again. “I-my brother. My brother really likes them.”
The girl’s smile drops a bit. “Oh.”
Biana feels aer stomach drop with it. Why were ae so bad at life?
The girl turns around without another word, and Biana tries to focus on the test in front of aer, but how can ae think about the properties of being a froster when ae could be thinking about fast-paced bramble games?
Ae had wanted to join Foxfire’s bramble team ever since ae first attended, but it was only there for level three and up. Biana’s parents would never let aer join anyway however, since Bramble was just a silly pastime to stay active.
But Biana could dream.
Ae rein aer thoughts back in toward the paper instead of aer future.
Ae got this. Piece of cake.
Ae stumble aer way through the quiz and finish the last question right as the bell rings, gathering up aer stuff and turning in aer paper at the door.
Staring at a piece of paper for so long is starting to make aer eyes throb, and the florescent lighting really isn’t helping the pounding behind aer head. But just before ae make another turn, ae feel the weight of something in aer left hand.
Ae look down, wondering why ae didn’t put the pencil in aer bag, when aer eye catches on the blue bird symbol.
It wasn’t aer pencil.
Biana’s head whips upward, aer gaze scanning over the mess of students excitedly heading to lunch. Even though ae’re in the First Level wing, the bustling activity makes it hard to pick out the one that ae’re looking for.
Just as Biana’s about to give up, the bobbing of dark brown braids catches aer eye, and ae take off in the direction of the girl, weaving through the throng of students as ae run, going against the flow of foot traffic.
Ae try to apologize to the strawberry blond ae bump, but instead decide to keep moving, forcing aer way through groups in the bustling hallways until ae finally make it to the girl’s locker, where she’s already started putting her stuff away.
Her crest pops out against the dark color of her uniform, and she’s about to close her locker door.
“Wait!”
Biana rushes forward, aer hand outstretched toward the other girl, who’s just about to slam her locker shut.
Her face reads that of confusion for a second, frozen by the half-desperate call in her direction. Biana holds out the pencil to her, and her face lights up with recognition.
She takes the pencil, shoving it into her locker without another look over her shoulder.
“Thanks, that would have sucked, having to open it again.”
Biana nods. “Especially with it being Elwin’s choice today.”
The girl’s nose crinkles as she thinks about it. Reekrod probably wouldn’t be pleasant to taste right before eating, Biana thinks to aerself.
But ae don’t say anything out loud, for the fear of making something awkward.
The girl smiles. “Uh… thanks for giving it back to me.” She turns, holding her lunch bag in her hands and starting to walk away.
“Kora Logner,” Biana blurts.
The girl stops.
“Kora Logner is the best on the Raptors because of her speed and accuracy, which increases because of her ability to phase through walls. She’s not the most popular by any means but that give her a good advantage if you ask me.”
By some miracle, the ramblings make the girl turn around, and Biana can’t believe it. No one has ever really… know that and listened. Fitz had known, but he didn’t listen, laughing and ruffling aer hair at what she thought, telling aer that bramble wasn’t aer thing.
But the girl? She turns around, with a dazzling smile plastered onto her face.
“Is that so?”
Biana meekly nods, gulping as the girl takes one step closer.
She throws her head back and laughs, and Biana’s scared for a second, thinking that she’ll make fun of aer.
“I thought I was the only one that thought that.”
The girl sticks out her hand, “Maruca Chebota.”
Biana smiles, taking it. “Biana Vacker.”
“Well, Biana, would you like to sit with me at lunch? I’d love to hear what your brother taught you about the Raptors.”
Biana giggles at the way Maruca wiggles her eyebrows.
Maybe today isn’t the worst, Biana thinks as Maruca excitedly tells aer about her tackle bramble strategy. Maybe ae just need someone to listen.