Chapter Text
It was ten minutes before class was supposed to start, but Yaz was still at the nearby park, sitting at her usual bench – their usual bench, she corrected herself, still not really used to having a friend – reading, hiding from the other kids and waiting for Wren.
Once upon a time, Yaz would have been resigned to sitting alone, either reading or doing homework, just trying not to call attention to herself. However, after meeting Wren in the previous school year, she wasn’t alone anymore, so she didn’t need her old distractions – although she still sat as far from the others as she could – because Wren would be there, and they could hang out for as long as possible before they had to focus on school for the entire day.
Today, though, she was reading because her friend was late. Finally, five minutes before they were supposed to be in class, she heard Wren’s footsteps and looked up to see the other girl running up the path with her too-short trousers and old boots, her face already red from the effort. She probably ran the whole way there.
“You’re late,” Yaz said, putting her book back in her bag and getting up.
“I know, I know, sorry,” Wren said, slowing to a walk next to Yaz. “In my defense, my talents were needed this morning.”
Yaz couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, really? What was it this time? Are there mice at the home again?”
“No, frogs,” Wren replied, smiling. “Poor little things must’ve gotten lost and turned up in the bathroom. I had to get them safely back to the pond before the other kids tried to kill them,” she finished, frowning. “They were completely harmless, I couldn’t leave them to the whims of mean kids with access to salt!”
“I see,” Yaz said, trying to keep a serious face. “So what you’re saying is that the frogs are more important than me, your best friend in the entire world?”
“Yaz! Of course not! But you wouldn’t die if kids threw salt on you, so…” She shrugged. “Also, you’re my only friend in the entire world, don’t sell yourself short. Well, my only human friend, anyway.”
“I’m not sure that ‘only friend’ is better than ‘best friend’, though,” Yaz pointed out laughing as they entered the school.
“Of course it is!” Wren insisted. “It means we don’t need anyone else.”
“I think it actually means nobody else wants us, Wren.” Yaz arched an eyebrow.
“Same thing. Just means I don’t have to share you,” she replied in a low voice as they sat at their desks just before the teacher entered the class.
Yaz was glad she didn’t have to think of a reply to that statement, because while it did make her feel oddly special, the years of rejection by her supposed peers still hurt. The worst part is that she never even understood why they rejected her. She spent so long trying to figure it out and wondering if she could change whatever it was, but nothing worked. Eventually she gave up and accepted – even tried to embrace – loneliness.
And then Wren came along. She was so outgoing, kind and pretty that Yaz assumed she would become popular in no time and decided not to even bother trying to befriend her. But, as it turns out, Wren was just as rejected as Yaz.
And Yaz’s estrangement made even less sense, because she and Wren were absolute opposites. Yaz was quiet and bookish, while Wren was loud and always on the move; Yaz was all different shades of brown – hair, eyes, skin –, while Wren was probably the palest kid in school, with freckles and blond hair; Yaz had lived there her entire life, and Wren was new to the capital. The only thing they had in common was the fact that neither of them had friends.
So, Wren decided that they were friends, and Yaz wasn’t about to argue against that.
Later, after another day of pretending the other students didn’t exist and hoping they extended the same courtesy to her, Yaz was once again waiting for Wren outside school, this time because a teacher wanted to talk to her friend about some project she had in a class they didn’t share. Wren had only mentioned it had something to do with the war.
They went back to the park, stopping on the way to get sandwiches, and settled at their usual picnic table to do homework. It wasn’t the most exciting of activities, but at least they got to talk and hang out before curfew. The capital was still a relatively safe city – the battles hadn’t made it this far into the country, at least; the most noticeable effects were messengers on horses getting into and out of the city daily, and the shortage of items that the capital usually got from other provinces – but they still needed to be home before dark. Then again, Yaz was used to it, seeing as the war had started before she was born.
As usual, Yaz focused on homework, while Wren switched between doing homework and climbing the nearby trees to check on birds’ nests and on squirrels that she swore were her friends, occasionally hanging upside down from a branch to talk to Yaz or doing homework with a squirrel curled around her neck or a bird on her head. Once Yaz announced she was done with homework, Wren rushed to finish hers so fast that Yaz was sure she could see smoke rising from the paper. Finishing homework meant they could go to the lake and say hi to the ducks, which might be Wren’s favorite thing.
All in all, a very normal day for them. Yaz loved normal days; she wished they could stack up a thousand of them, just being happy together.
Except that, when they were leaving the park, still laughing about a duck almost attacking Wren over the last bits of her sandwich while she tried not to let the duck eat them – bread is bad for ducks, she said –, they ran into a group of people from their school. Unfortunately, it was one of the groups that seemed to have some sort of issue with them, even though Yaz was sure she had never even tried to talk to those kids, so she braced herself for the mean comments and tried to escape subtly, but the group had already spotted them.
“Oh, look who it is!” One of the girls said with a smirk. “Little Yasmin Khan and her pet orphan!”
Yaz could feel that Wren wanted to say something back, which would only give them more fuel, so she grabbed her hand and tried to drag her away from the group. However, that just made them start to follow the two down the street.
“What, is the orphan your girlfriend now, Khan?” A boy said with a disgusted expression. Yaz just rolled her eyes at the childish comment, but Wren blushed and stared at the ground, so Yaz dropped her hand.
“You know what, I bet she is,” the first girl said, laughing. “They might as well, it’s not like those two freaks would ever find anyone else. I bet they have magic, too.”
“We should just ship them off to Lakertya,” another boy said. “I heard that if we surrender all the Shadow freaks, the war will be over.”
At that, Wren turned, and Yaz’s heart plummeted. Arguing back never ended well, they should be trying to run.
“Actually,” Wren started in a weirdly calm voice, “that is a common misconception, and there were a lot of factors involved–”
“Wren, they don’t really care about what’s real, c’mon.” She grabbed Wren’s hand again, dragging her friend down the first side street they came across, hoping a few turns would be enough to lose the bullies, who were now laughing at them.
After she was sure they weren’t being followed anymore, Yaz stopped and turned to Wren.
“Are you alright? You really can’t try to reason with them, Wren. I’m used to those arseholes after all these years, but maybe they would take it easy on you if we weren’t this close.”
“It’s okay, we’re in this together,” Wren reassured her. “Just because you’ve been dealing with this for years doesn’t mean it’s fair, Yaz. Or that you have to do it alone.”
“I know,” Yaz replied. “But all the same… It’s how it’s always been, you know? Can’t let it get to me. Are you sure you’re okay? I can walk you home if you want.”
“You don’t need to,” Wren said, a bit too fast. “Besides, we’re closer to your place anyway. How about I walk you home instead?”
“You just want to grab a custard cream before going home, don’t you?” Yaz joked.
“I would never!” Wren replied, feigning a shocked face. “But if you want to reward me for protecting you on your way home… I think a biscuit is an appropriate price.”
Yaz snorted. “Protecting me? From where I’m standing, it was the other way around! Be glad I interrupted that speech you were trying to make, they will probably claim that trying to defend the honor of Shadow Kin means you’re one of them!”
“It’s a matter of perspective, I guess.” Wren shrugged. “Then, I think I need a custard cream to recover from such hardship,” she changed her tune, touching the back of her hand to her forehead, as if she might swoon.
“Drama queen,” Yaz laughed and rolled her eyes. “Of course I’ll get you a biscuit, come on.”
And only after Wren had left (with a few biscuits in hand) did Yaz think that maybe the comment about them being girlfriends was the most likely to explain why she had always been an outcast. Even if there was no truth to it.