Chapter Text
Ayla had been at her new school for exactly twelve minutes when she decided she hated the place.
Not permanently.
Probably.
She was willing to reassess after lunch.
For now, however, she stood beneath the covered walkway with one hand gripping the strap of her school bag and the other holding a folded campus map that had already become useless through excessive folding, unfolding, turning upside down, and accusing it of lying.
The map claimed the M.5 classrooms were in Building Three.
Ayla was standing in front of Building Three.
At least, she thought she was.
There was no sign that said BUILDING THREE, which she felt was a significant design flaw in an institution apparently devoted to education.
She looked at the map.
Then at the building.
Then at the map again.
“Interesting.”
A group of younger girls passed behind her.
Ayla immediately straightened.
She tucked the map neatly against her chest and looked toward the stairs as though she had been standing there on purpose.
She even nodded once.
Yes.
Of course.
This was exactly where she meant to be.
The girls disappeared around the corner.
Ayla unfolded the map again.
She pushed her glasses higher on her nose and squinted at the tiny labels.
“Where am I?”
Twenty minutes earlier, Thana had offered to walk her inside.
Ayla had reacted as though he'd suggested carrying her into class.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“I’m sixteen.”
“I know.”
“I can find a classroom.”
“I didn't say you couldn't.”
“You were about to walk me to it.”
“I was going to walk you to the office.”
“Which is worse.”
Thana had stared at her across the steering wheel.
Ayla had stared back.
He had eventually nodded toward the school gates.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“You have the map?”
“Yes.”
“Your schedule?”
“Yes.”
“Phone?”
“Yes.”
“Money?”
“Yes.”
“Brain?”
Ayla had narrowed her eyes.
Thana had smiled.
“Just checking.”
She had climbed out of the car with dignity.
At least she hoped it had looked like dignity.
The second she'd closed the door, Thana lowered the window.
“Ayla.”
She turned.
“Call me if you get lost.”
“I won't get lost.”
He had made the mistake of laughing.
She'd walked through the gates without looking back.
And now—
Ayla slowly rotated the map ninety degrees.
“Oh.”
She rotated it again.
“Oh, no.”
She had been holding it upside down.
Fine.
Everyone made mistakes.
Some people made mistakes on their first day at a new school while wearing a freshly pressed uniform and pretending they weren't internally experiencing a minor crisis.
That was normal.
Probably.
Ayla inhaled, gathered the remnants of her pride, and started walking.
The school was larger than her old one.
Much larger.
Her father had liked that about it when they came for the admission interview: the wide grounds, the sports facilities, the library, the old trees scattered between newer buildings.
Ayla had been less impressed by its size once she discovered she was personally expected to navigate it.
Several classroom buildings were connected by covered walkways. A central courtyard sat between two of them, lined with trees and benches. Somewhere nearby was a canteen she could smell but not locate, and beyond another row of buildings lay a sports field bright beneath the morning sun.
Girls moved around her in groups that already made sense to one another.
That was the part Ayla disliked most.
Everyone seemed to know where to stand.
Who to walk beside.
Which staircase to take.
Which teacher to avoid.
Which corridor belonged to which year.
They laughed easily, leaning into one another, tugging at sleeves, sharing drinks.
Ayla walked alone.
She knew transferring schools at sixteen wasn't a tragedy.
Her father had reminded her of this several times.
People transferred schools every day.
They made friends.
They adjusted.
They survived.
Still, knowing that didn't stop the strange feeling of being dropped into the middle of a story everyone else had already started reading.
Her shoes sounded too loud against the tiled walkway.
Her bag felt too new.
Even her uniform seemed to announce that she hadn't quite learned how everyone here wore theirs yet.
Ayla lifted her chin.
Fine.
She was new.
She was not helpless.
She could make friends.
She was pleasant.
She was charming.
She had been told she had a nice smile.
Also, she was tall, which had absolutely no relevance to the situation but made her feel slightly more capable.
She smiled at a girl passing in the opposite direction.
The girl smiled back.
There.
Success.
Ayla's confidence immediately increased by thirty percent.
She took the next turn.
Then another.
Five minutes later, she stopped.
The sports field was now on her left.
It had previously been on her right.
Ayla stared at it.
“How did you get there?”
The field declined to explain itself.
She checked the time.
Her first class wasn't starting for another fifteen minutes.
Plenty of time.
She could still recover from this.
Nobody needed to know.
Especially not her father.
Ayla turned around.
And almost walked directly into three girls.
She stopped short.
“Oh. Sorry.”
They looked older.
Not much older, but enough that Ayla immediately noticed the M.6 badge on their uniforms.
Seniors.
The one in the middle took in Ayla's face, then the folded map in her hand.
“You're new.”
It wasn't a question.
Ayla smiled automatically.
“Is it that obvious?”
The girl on the left laughed.
“Yes.”
Well.
There went her thirty percent.
Ayla tucked the map behind her back.
“I'm transferring into M.5.”
“We know.”
Ayla glanced between them.
“Do you?”
“Everybody knows there's a transfer student.”
That was mildly horrifying.
Ayla had imagined arriving quietly, perhaps being introduced to her class, perhaps receiving a few curious looks.
She had not expected to become pre-arrival school information.
The middle girl held out her hand.
“Schedule.”
Ayla hesitated.
“Why?”
“To see where you're supposed to go.”
“Oh.”
Reasonable.
Maybe.
Ayla pulled the paper from the front pocket of her bag and handed it over.
The senior glanced at it.
“M.5/2.”
“Yes.”
“You're very far away.”
“I suspected that.”
Another laugh.
The senior folded Ayla's schedule once.
“You have to go through there.”
She pointed toward a narrow passage behind the gymnasium.
Ayla followed the gesture.
“That way?”
“Mm.”
“But the map—”
“Map's old.”
Ayla's eyes narrowed slightly.
The girl smiled.
Ayla wasn't stupid.
Frequently overconfident? Yes.
Occasionally directionally challenged? Apparently.
Stupid? No.
The passage behind the gym was nearly empty. Her classroom building, according to the allegedly obsolete map, should have been almost the opposite way.
Ayla held out her hand.
“Can I have my schedule back?”
The senior tucked it behind her.
“You haven't greeted your seniors properly.”
Ah.
There it was.
Ayla let her hand fall.
The other two were smiling now.
Not friendly smiles.
Not evil either.
Just the particular amusement of people who had found something to play with.
Ayla knew this kind.
Her old school had contained several.
They weren't usually brave enough to do anything genuinely terrible.
They just liked making someone else uncomfortable and calling it a joke afterward.
Ayla tilted her head.
“I said sorry when I nearly walked into you.”
“That's not a greeting.”
“Oh.”
“New juniors should know how to greet seniors.”
Ayla glanced around.
Nobody nearby appeared particularly interested in rescuing her from whatever ridiculous initiation ritual she'd accidentally wandered into.
She considered her options.
She could play along.
She could walk away.
She could grab her schedule.
She could tell them she was sixteen, not six, and if they wanted a formal introduction they could submit an appointment request.
The last option was extremely attractive.
Unfortunately, this was her first day.
Her father had specifically said, Try not to start anything.
He had known her all her life, so Ayla suspected the warning had not been general.
She smiled instead.
“Okay. What do you want me to do?”
The girls exchanged looks.
The one on the right brightened.
“Give us a proper wai.”
Ayla stared.
“A proper wai?”
“Since you don't seem to know how to greet seniors.”
Oh, she knew how to wai.
She also knew when three people were being ridiculous.
Ayla inhaled through her nose.
Somewhere in the universe, her father's voice said, Try not to start anything.
Fine.
She brought her palms together.
Before she could do anything else, another voice came from behind them.
“What are you doing?”
It wasn't loud.
That was the first thing Ayla noticed.
Nobody shouted.
Nobody snapped.
There was no dramatic entrance, no teacher storming down the corridor, no angry demand for everyone to separate.
Just four words.
Calm.
Flat.
And somehow all three seniors stopped smiling.
Ayla looked past them.
A girl stood several steps away near the entrance to the covered walkway.
She was wearing the school's PE uniform instead of the standard white blouse and dark skirt, a sports bag hanging from one shoulder. Her hair was tied back neatly, though a few strands had escaped around her face from the heat.
There was a whistle looped loosely around two fingers.
She wasn't especially imposing.
Not in the obvious way.
She wasn't glaring.
She didn't look angry.
She simply looked at the three girls.
And waited.
The senior holding Ayla's schedule shifted her weight.
“Tawan.”
The girl—Tawan—walked closer.
“We're talking to the new girl,” the senior said.
“I can see that.”
“Just welcoming her.”
Tawan's eyes moved briefly to Ayla before returning to the girls.
“Give it to her.”
The senior laughed, but it came out thinner than before.
“We're only joking.”
“Then the joke's over.”
That was it.
No threat.
No raised voice.
The senior watched her for another moment before holding Ayla's schedule out.
Ayla took it.
“Thank you.”
The girl muttered something under her breath.
Tawan didn't respond.
The three seniors walked away.
One glanced over her shoulder.
Tawan simply watched until they disappeared around the corner.
Ayla stared at her.
This was—
Well.
This was inconvenient.
Because the girl was very cool.
Ridiculously cool.
Unnecessarily cool.
Ayla did not need this on her first day.
Tawan turned toward her.
“You okay?”
Ayla opened her mouth.
“Yes.”
Good.
Normal.
One word.
Excellent work.
Tawan nodded toward the schedule in her hand.
“M.5?”
Ayla nodded.
“Five-two.”
Tawan held out her hand.
Ayla gave her the paper immediately.
Apparently she had learned nothing.
Tawan scanned it.
“You're on the other side of the main building.”
Ayla pointed toward the passage the seniors had indicated.
“They said it was that way.”
Tawan glanced toward it.
“They lied.”
“Yes. I gathered that.”
A tiny change touched Tawan's mouth.
Not quite a smile.
Almost.
Ayla noticed.
Unfortunately.
“Come on.”
Tawan started walking.
Ayla blinked.
Then hurried after her.
“You don't have to take me.”
“I’m going that direction.”
“Oh.”
Ayla adjusted her bag on her shoulder.
“Okay.”
They walked side by side beneath the covered walkway.
Or, more accurately, Tawan walked calmly while Ayla tried very hard not to look like she was thinking too much about how to walk.
What did her arms normally do?
Had they always swung like this?
Was she swinging them too much?
Why was walking suddenly complicated?
Ayla fixed her gaze straight ahead.
Tawan pointed toward a staircase.
“That's Building Two. Your class is past it.”
Ayla nodded.
“Right.”
“You'll see the library first.”
“Right.”
“Then the stairs.”
“Right.”
Tawan glanced at her.
Ayla realized she'd said right three times.
She cleared her throat.
“I understand directions very well.”
Another almost-smile.
Ayla decided not to mention the previous twenty minutes.
“First day?” Tawan asked.
“Is it also that obvious?”
“Yes.”
Ayla sighed.
“I thought I was blending in.”
“You were standing in front of the gym holding a map upside down.”
Ayla stopped walking.
Tawan took another two steps before turning.
“You saw that?”
There it was.
An actual smile this time.
Small.
Brief.
But definitely there.
Ayla felt personally attacked.
“I was checking something.”
“Upside down?”
“The orientation.”
“Of the map?”
“Yes.”
Tawan nodded solemnly.
“Of course.”
Ayla stared at her.
“You're making fun of me.”
“Only a little.”
“You just rescued me. You're not supposed to bully me immediately afterward.”
Tawan's eyebrows lifted.
Ayla froze.
Too much.
Definitely too much.
First conversation with cool senior rescuer and she had already accused her of bullying.
Wonderful.
Maybe she could still transfer again.
Then Tawan laughed.
It wasn't loud.
Just a short sound, surprised enough that Ayla had the ridiculous impression she'd earned it.
“Sorry,” Tawan said.
Ayla tried not to grin.
Failed.
“It's okay. I forgive you.”
“How generous.”
“I’m very forgiving.”
“I can tell.”
They started walking again.
Something had shifted.
Ayla wasn't sure what.
Maybe nothing.
Maybe she was simply no longer thinking about how strange the school felt.
For the next minute, Tawan pointed out things as they passed them.
The library.
The administrative office.
The canteen entrance.
The staircase Ayla needed.
Ayla listened carefully this time.
Mostly.
She also noticed that other girls greeted Tawan as they passed.
“Morning, Tawan.”
“P'Tawan.”
“Practice later?”
Tawan answered each of them easily.
A nod here.
A smile there.
A quick, “See you later.”
Ayla noticed the different ways they addressed her but didn't give it much thought.
At the bottom of the stairs, Tawan stopped.
“Second floor. Last classroom on the left.”
Ayla looked up.
“Five-two?”
“Five-two.”
“Definitely?”
Tawan looked amused again.
“Definitely.”
Ayla pressed her schedule against her chest.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
“And…” Ayla hesitated, then glanced back toward the direction they'd come from. “For before too.”
Tawan's expression softened.
“Don't worry about them.”
Ayla nodded.
“They do that often?”
“Only when they think they can get away with it.”
There was something in the answer that made Ayla wonder if Tawan had dealt with them before.
Before she could ask, a voice called from across the courtyard.
“Tawan!”
Another M.6 girl in PE uniform waved impatiently.
“We're waiting!”
Tawan lifted a hand.
Then looked back at Ayla.
“I have to go.”
“Oh. Yes. Sorry.”
“You didn't do anything.”
Right.
Obviously.
Ayla stepped toward the stairs.
Tawan adjusted the strap of her sports bag.
“You'll remember tomorrow.”
Ayla paused.
“What?”
“The way to class.”
There was that tiny smile again.
Ayla narrowed her eyes.
“I might have known the whole time.”
“Sure.”
“I could've been testing you.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
Tawan laughed again.
Ayla's stomach did something strange.
Not dramatic.
Just a small, irritating flip.
Probably hunger.
She hadn't eaten enough breakfast.
Clearly.
Tawan started backing away.
“Good luck, new girl.”
“I have a name.”
Tawan stopped.
Ayla hadn't meant to say it quite like that.
She straightened.
“Ayla.”
Tawan repeated it.
“Ayla.”
And that was worse.
Much worse.
Because now Ayla knew exactly what her own name sounded like in Tawan's voice.
“See you around.”
Then Tawan turned and jogged across the courtyard toward the waiting girls.
Ayla remained at the bottom of the staircase.
She watched her go.
For perhaps slightly too long.
“Excuse me?”
Ayla jumped.
A girl stood behind her, one hand on the stair rail.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Ayla moved aside quickly.
The girl took two steps upward, then paused.
“You're the transfer student, right?”
Ayla stared.
“Does everyone know?”
The girl laughed.
“Pretty much.”
Ayla groaned.
“Excellent.”
“You're M.5/2?”
“Yes.”
The girl's expression brightened.
“So am I.”
That, finally, sounded like good news.
“I’m Khaotu.”
“Ayla.”
“I know.”
Ayla stared at her.
Khaotu immediately laughed.
“Sorry. Transfer student.”
“This is becoming deeply unsettling.”
“You'll stop being interesting by next week.”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
Khaotu nodded toward the courtyard.
“Were you just talking to P'Tawan?”
Ayla tried for casual.
“Maybe.”
Khaotu stared at her.
Ayla lasted approximately two seconds.
“Fine. Yes.”
And then it registered.
P'Tawan.
That was what the younger girls had called her on the walk over.
Ayla had spent the whole conversation thinking of her simply as Tawan, as though they were classmates instead of a junior and an M.6 senior.
Apparently she had arrived at this school determined to ignore social hierarchy before first period.
“She walked you here?” Khaotu asked.
“She helped me.”
“Of course she did.”
Ayla frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“She's like that.”
Ayla didn't know why those three words landed differently.
She's like that.
As though this wasn't unusual.
As though helping a lost junior wasn't something P'Tawan would remember by lunchtime.
Khaotu started climbing.
Ayla followed.
“She's in M.6/1,” Khaotu said. “Volleyball too.”
“Volleyball?”
“Mm.”
“Is she captain?”
“Not officially. Yet.”
Ayla glanced at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means everyone listens to her anyway.”
That—
Yes.
Ayla had already noticed.
Khaotu leaned a little closer as they reached the landing.
“She's very popular.”
“I gathered that.”
“Especially with juniors.”
Ayla had the sudden feeling she wasn't going to like whatever came next.
Khaotu grinned.
“Half of them have a crush on her.”
Ayla's attention jumped immediately toward the courtyard visible through the open side of the stairwell.
Then she caught herself.
“I don't.”
Khaotu stopped.
Ayla stopped too.
Nobody had accused her of anything.
Why had she said that?
Khaotu's mouth twitched.
“I didn't say you did.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
“I was clarifying.”
“Of course.”
Ayla pointed up the staircase.
“Which way is our classroom?”
Khaotu's grin widened.
“Come on, transfer student.”
“This school is terrible.”
“You've been here half an hour.”
“Long enough.”
By lunchtime, Ayla had learned four important things.
One: her homeroom teacher was kind.
Two: Khaotu talked enough that Ayla no longer had to worry about eating lunch alone.
Three: the canteen made very good basil chicken.
And four:
P'Tawan was apparently some kind of school-wide phenomenon.
Ayla had not asked.
This needed to be stated clearly.
She had not spent the morning gathering information about the senior who had helped her.
Information had simply arrived.
Repeatedly.
Against her will.
Khaotu had been responsible for most of it.
“P'Tawan's in M.6/1.”
Ayla continued eating.
“You told me.”
“She's good at volleyball.”
“You told me that too.”
“Very good.”
“I'm happy for her.”
“And she's on the student sports committee.”
Ayla looked up.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
Khaotu smiled.
“You asked if she was captain.”
“That was one question.”
“A very specific question.”
“I was curious.”
“Mm.”
Ayla pointed her spoon at her.
“I have known you for four hours.”
“And already I understand you.”
“You understand nothing.”
Khaotu's smile widened.
Ayla returned to her rice.
Across the canteen, there was sudden laughter.
Ayla looked automatically.
P'Tawan was sitting two tables away with a group of M.6 girls.
Normal uniform now.
Hair down.
Ayla's spoon stopped halfway to her mouth.
Oh.
That was—
Unfortunate.
PE-uniform P'Tawan had been one problem.
Normal-uniform P'Tawan was apparently an entirely separate administrative issue.
She was listening to the girl beside her, chin resting briefly on one hand.
Then she laughed.
Not the small laugh Ayla had gotten earlier.
A full one this time.
Her head tipped back slightly.
Ayla watched.
“Curious?” Khaotu asked.
Ayla immediately put her spoon into her mouth.
Khaotu laughed.
“I’m eating.”
“Yes.”
“That is what people do in canteens.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I wasn't.”
Ayla gave her a warning look.
Khaotu held up both hands.
Fine.
Ayla deliberately turned her chair slightly away from P'Tawan's table.
There.
Problem solved.
She ate three more bites.
Then somebody approached P'Tawan.
An M.5 girl from another class, judging by the badge.
She held out a bottled drink with both hands.
Ayla did not turn around.
She merely happened to be positioned at an angle where peripheral vision existed.
P'Tawan accepted it politely and said something that made the younger girl smile before she hurried away.
Khaotu leaned toward Ayla.
“That happens all the time.”
Ayla chewed.
“What?”
“People giving her things.”
“I wasn't watching.”
“Ayla.”
“I have excellent peripheral vision.”
Khaotu laughed so loudly that Ayla kicked her lightly under the table.
Across the canteen, P'Tawan glanced over.
Ayla froze.
Their eyes met.
P'Tawan's expression shifted with recognition, and she lifted the drink in one hand in a little greeting.
Ayla's brain emptied.
Completely.
Nothing remained.
No language.
No thought.
No dignity.
She lifted her spoon.
Why?
She did not know.
Apparently she was greeting P'Tawan with cutlery.
P'Tawan smiled.
Then turned back to her friends.
Khaotu slowly looked at Ayla.
Ayla lowered the spoon.
“Don't.”
“I haven't said anything.”
“Keep doing that.”
Thana was in the kitchen when Ayla arrived home.
“How was your first day?”
“Fine.”
She removed her shoes.
“Found your classroom?”
“Yes.”
There was a suspicious pause.
Ayla looked toward the kitchen.
Thana was leaning against the counter.
“You got lost.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I was momentarily geographically uncertain.”
He laughed.
Ayla pointed at him.
“You're supposed to support me.”
“I do support you.”
“You're enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Ayla dropped her bag beside the sofa.
Then came the rapid tap of tiny paws from the hallway.
Her entire face changed.
“There you are.”
Uni appeared around the corner, an overexcited cloud of Pomeranian fur with his tail going fast enough to shake the rest of him.
Ayla immediately crouched.
He walked straight into her arms.
“Oh, you wouldn't believe my day.”
Thana looked over.
“That bad?”
Ayla sat on the floor beside the sofa.
Uni climbed halfway into her lap as if this had always been his intended destination.
Ayla smoothed both hands over his ridiculous amount of fur.
“First, I got lost.”
“I knew it.”
“I'm not talking to you.”
Thana made an amused sound from the kitchen.
Ayla looked seriously at Uni.
“Then three senior girls tried to bully me.”
Thana's amusement disappeared.
“What?”
“They're fine. I'm fine. Nothing happened.”
He had already turned fully toward her.
“What did they do?”
“Dad.”
“Ayla.”
“They took my schedule and tried to make me wai to them.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I was handling it.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I hadn't decided yet.”
“Ayla.”
“But somebody stepped in before anything happened.”
“Who?”
“An M.6 senior.”
“And she stopped them?”
“Yes.”
Thana stayed quiet for a moment.
Ayla knew that look.
He wasn't going to forget this just because she wanted him to.
“If they bother you again, you tell me.”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
Ayla's voice softened.
“I know.”
“And if it becomes a pattern, I want to know that too.”
“It won't.”
“You don't know that yet.”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Fair.
“Okay.”
Thana held her gaze for another second before turning back to the counter.
Ayla looked down at Uni.
“Anyway.”
Uni stared up at her.
Ayla's mouth twitched.
“The senior.”
Thana glanced over.
And suddenly the whole morning replayed itself.
The whistle looped around P'Tawan's fingers.
The calm voice.
Give it to her.
The almost-smile when Ayla had defended her upside-down map.
The way she'd said Ayla's name.
The stupid little greeting across the canteen.
Ayla fell sideways onto the floor.
Uni startled, then immediately began sniffing her hair.
“Oh, no.”
Thana looked over.
“What?”
Ayla covered her face.
“She was so cool.”
There was silence.
Uni licked Ayla's wrist.
Ayla sat up again.
“No, listen.”
“I am.”
“She didn't even raise her voice.”
Thana glanced at Uni.
Uni looked back at him.
“And those girls just listened to her. Like—” Ayla snapped her fingers. “Immediately.”
“Mm.”
“And then she walked me to my class.”
“That was nice.”
“And she knew where everything was.”
“She attends the school.”
“That is not the point.”
“What is the point?”
Ayla frowned.
She wasn't sure.
She looked down at Uni.
“You understand.”
Uni's tail thumped once against her leg.
“See?”
Thana shook his head, smiling.
Ayla continued.
“And she's in volleyball.”
“Of course.”
Ayla looked up sharply.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You said it like it meant something.”
“It didn't.”
Ayla narrowed her eyes.
Then turned back to Uni.
“She's popular.”
Uni yawned.
“Don't do that. This is important.”
Thana laughed under his breath.
“Apparently everyone likes her,” Ayla continued. “People give her drinks. For free.”
“You know drinks aren't usually a major courtship ritual.”
“At school they are.”
“Ah.”
“And Khaotu said half the juniors have a crush on her.”
Thana paused.
“Khaotu?”
“My new friend.”
“You already made a friend?”
Ayla looked offended.
“Obviously.”
He smiled.
“That was fast.”
“I'm delightful.”
“Yes, you are.”
The answer was so immediate that Ayla couldn't even argue.
She softened.
“Anyway.”
“Anyway.”
Ayla leaned back against the sofa.
Uni settled more comfortably across her lap.
“I don't have a crush on her.”
Thana resumed chopping at the counter.
“I didn't ask.”
Ayla went still.
Why did people keep doing that?
“I know.”
“Okay.”
“I'm just saying.”
“Noted.”
“She just helped me.”
“Mm.”
“And she's cool.”
“Very cool.”
“You don't know her.”
“I know.”
“Then don't agree like that.”
Thana bit back a smile.
Ayla pointed accusingly at him.
“Go away.”
“I’m making dinner.”
“Then emotionally go away.”
That got a laugh.
Ayla looked down at Uni and rubbed gently between his ears.
“She called me new girl first.”
One dark eye opened.
“But then I told her my name.”
The eye closed again.
Ayla smiled despite herself.
“She remembered it at lunch.”
Uni's tail moved lazily against her leg.
Ayla lowered her voice.
“She has a really nice smile.”
Uni sighed.
Ayla gasped.
“Don't judge me.”
From the kitchen, Thana called,
“He's not the one judging you.”
“DAD.”