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"They did a good job," Ashton agrees.

"You had someone design this? It looks like you've been here for years."

"Friday," she corrects.

"Where were you last year?"

"The junior floor downstairs."

"Then why am I up here? I'm not a senior."

"You are an enigma, aren't you, Lana?" Brendan points out as if he's enthralled with the idea of me. "Nothing about you makes sense."

I bare my teeth at him.

"Be careful," he informs everyone, "she may look like a sweet and adorable pixie, but she bites."

"I think pixies really do bite," Sophia says thoughtfully, handing the bong to Ashton.

"So you're saying Lana's an angry pixie?" Ashton studies me like she can't quite see it.

All of a sudden a detail clicks into place that should have been obvious hours ago. Maybe my mind was purposely avoiding the truth. "Your brother goes to school here, doesn't he?"

Lance nods. "Printz-Lee."

"Of course," I groan.

But that's an entirely different school, somewhere else in the forest of this town. I shouldn't have to ever see him. I try to find comfort in that.

"Parker told me what happened between you and him, but what--"

"Don't," I implore with a slight growl.

"Are you attracted to trouble, Lana?" Brendan teases, taking his turn at the window.

"No, she likes the good guys," Ashton blurts unfiltered. I roll my eyes when both Brendan and Lance laugh.

"There's no such thing" Sophia sighs solemnly. "They're like unicorns. Only a few left."

This makes me laugh, because she looks so sad at the thought of it. "You're right, Sophia. They are unicorns."

"Is that why you've vowed to never fall in love?" Brendan asks. "Because you're waiting for a unicorn?"

"I'm not waiting for anything."

"She didn't vow not to fall in love," Ashton corrects, taking the bong back for another turn without progressing to Lance or me. "She said she was afraid to fall in love."

Oh, Ashton and her drug-induced betrayal.

Sophia nods, like she totally gets it. "I'm afraid of wrinkles."

"Growing old?" Lance clarifies.

"No. Wrinkles. On my clothes. I spend hours ironing and starching. I practice sitting just right and tucking in my shirts perfectly so they don't rumple. It completely stresses me out."

"Here, this'll help," Ashton says, handing the bong back.

"Hey!" Lance protests, launching up onto the bench with his hand extended. "Complete the circle."

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