There he is! Sitting very nearly by himself, tucked into a corner of the room.

The boy sitting beside him is also the reason no one else is sitting anywhere near them, beyond just the fact that they picked a small table and he is sprawled so low in his chair that he can kick (and indeed is kicking) the empty chairs at the next table over. He has one elbow propped on the back of his chair to hold his head up while he gazes adoringly at the much more upright Ethan.

Hmm. Andi can work with this! She has a secret weapon.

"Did you now," says Ethan.

"Yeah. I think we maybe had math together last year? Something, anyway. Something without reports though."

"I said, apparently, I'm supposed to distract you."

"Well, that's adorable," says Ethan's friend, sitting up straighter with a little shake of his shoulders and tipping his head toward Bella to better display his grin.

"Hmm - math, yes," says Ethan. "Sounds about right. You sat by the window and your compass had that little—" He makes a fluffy wiggly sort of gesture with his fingers.

"Yeah, it was supposed to be a pencil topper," says Andi, "but then you can't erase anything, so."

Bella shrugs. "My sister shares a school with a symmetrically-featured British dude, and I didn't have anything better to do."

"He's gonna break her hea~aaart," hums the friend. "Just like he broke mine. Well." He flashes a quick grin. "Maybe not just like."

"Ingenious," says Ethan.

"Uh, I don't know if you remember my name? I'm Andi - Alexandra but it's Andi - Swan."

"Should I be passing along dire warnings?"

"Oooh, but where would be the fun in that?"

"Ethan Rayne," he says. "Pleasure."

"I have the overwhelming majority of fun when I'm not comforting a heartbroken twin."

Andi giggles. "I know that. I have to do my report next week," she adds. "Any tips on not being, like, terrified because public speaking? They say people fear public speaking more than they fear death, I dunno about that but it's competitive with my fear of, like, falling out of bed and breaking my nose on my desk or something."

"Picture your audience in their underwear, isn't that the traditional advice?"

"In that case," says Ethan's friend, "you should probably grab her and run."

Andi giggles again. "It is, I just don't know why it's supposed to help!"

Bella casts a suspicious glance in Ethan's direction. "Why? What's wrong with him? What would he do?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong with him," the friend assures her. "Stellar sense of humour, adorable accent... thing is, though, he's a total ice queen. Girl's got more chance of winning the lottery than getting him to like her."

"I think it has its charms, personally."

"Are you basing this solely on him not liking you as much as you like? Because a majority of the population is, reportedly, heterosexual. Or do you have more examples?"

"Sure, but I don't think it'll do a good job of helping me not stutter when I try to talk about Czechoslovakia. Whose idea was it to name the place Czechoslovakia?"

"Czechs," says Ethan, "and maybe Slovaks?"

"I never said he doesn't fuck me," the friend points out. "I said he doesn't like me. I know they kind of sound similar, but they're really not the same thing."

"Probably those egotistical Czechs and Slovaks, naming things after themselves. They should have named the place after something pronounceable instead."

"So he's emotionally unavailable," translates Bella, "and I should possibly remind Andi that there is an entire island full of people with accents like his."

"Yeah. Ice queen. Like I said."

"And yet," says Ethan, "you just pronounced it."

"Thanks for the warning. I think she'll survive chatting and eating Tuna Surprise with him, though, so I don't think I'll literally grab her and run unless someone pulls the fire alarm. And she'd probably be the one grabbing me, in that case, I'm the one who can't run if her life depends on it."

"Yeah, but not in front of lots of people worrying about my grade."

"Suit yourself," the friend says amicably.

"Lucky," sighs Andi, and she sips her juice.

"Always do."

Yes, consuming the least questionable parts of their meals in silence, what a brilliant plan.

"Bella. I'm afraid I don't remember yours confidently enough to hazard a guess."

Andi will not be thwarted! He should talk. In his lovely accent. Hmmm. "I guess I wouldn't actually have to talk about Czechoslovakia in particular since it's American history. Is that weird for you, doing a whole year on American history?"

"Sort of comes with the territory, doesn't it?"

"I," says Ethan's friend, with immense pride and satisfaction, "am Trouble."

"I guess. Wow, if we moved to another country and went to school there I guess we'd learn all kinds of details I never think about. How come you moved here, anyway? Do you like it?"

"That isn't remotely like what I would have guessed. Nickname?"

Trouble giggles. "You bet." He tips his head back at Ethan. "He came up with it. It's my favourite."

"Oh, dull family reasons," Ethan dismisses. "It's all right. Can't complain."

"It is an unusual nickname," observes Bella.

"I don't think I'd like to move to another country," muses Andi. "Not forever, anyway, maybe a semester in college or something."

"Why not?" says Ethan.

"Mm-hmmmmmm," says Trouble. "I'm an unusual person."

"It seems like it'd be a lot to get used to even if they spoke English. Is it true they don't have peanut butter, in other countries?"

"I'm getting that."

He giggles again, kicking at the frame of his chair.

"I'm sure there's some country somewhere that doesn't have peanut butter, but I've never personally been to one."

"So I have to distract you for another ten minutes," says Bella, glancing at the clock, "what's a good way to do that?"

"That's good then, peanut butter's awesome."

Ethan laughs.

"We could go make out," Trouble suggests.

"It is though! Reese's Pieces are the best candy. Unless it's Starbursts, those are also good."

"My agreement with my sister doesn't extend that far."

Trouble shrugs. "Your loss."

"Ugh, don't get me started," says Ethan. "American candy is a tragedy."

"Does offering to make out with near-strangers usually get you very far?"

"Ooh, why, what's British candy like?"

"Genuinely edible chocolate. Real Smarties, not little tubes of chalk. Maltesers. I can't explain maltesers, just trust me that if you had ever had the pleasure you would miss them too."

Trouble grins. "Sometimes. Sometimes nnnot. Can't hurt, though, can it?"

"What's a 'real' Smartie...?"

"I suppose that depends on what you're trying to get."

He tilts his head questioningly. "Mm?"

"You know M&Ms, right? Think those, but bigger and tastier."

"If, for example, you cared about certain aspects of your social reputation, it'd be a bad move. If all you want is to make out with one hundred percent of the people who will respond positively to that invitation, on the other hand, then your strategy is perfect."

"Wait, then why are they called Smarties? Did two different candy companies name different candies that, what about, like, trademarks?"

"Damned if I know," says Ethan. "Probably it's something to do with the fact that they come from different countries."

"Ooh, you tell me how much I care about my social reputation," snorts Trouble.

"Huh. I bet if I tell Bella about this she'll look it up for me."

"I'm going to guess, 'not'," says Bella.

"You win!" says Trouble, clapping his hands. "Wanna guess your prize?"

"Bella your wingman?" inquires Ethan, with a gesture over his shoulder at Bella and Trouble.

"Ten dollar gift certificate to Staples," suggests Bella.

"I, um," says Andi.

Ethan smirks.

Trouble makes a buzzer noise. "Ennh, wrong!"

Andi squirms. "She's just, you know, talking to your friend."

"Do I just keep guessing?"

"Until you give up," Trouble agrees.

"Very well-planned operation," says Ethan.

"Is there," Bella inquires archly, "actually a prize, or is it just entertaining to listen to me name random objects?"

"...Thanks?"

Ethan laughs.

"One way to find out," says Trouble.

"Well, I mean, she said she wouldn't mind, so."

"Only if I guess correctly, which I can only verify in the case that there is a prize," Bella says.

Trouble shrugs. "Does that mean you don't wanna play?"

"And you didn't think I'd notice?"

"Enh. I don't have anything else to do with the rest of the lunch period." She finishes off her banana. "I should probably be guessing things you might actually have on you. Stick of gum? Thirty-seven cents in assorted change? A snazzy-looking pencil?"

"I didn't actually think about that," confesses Andi.

"Not so well-planned after all."

"Well, I didn't have any other ideas."

"Yay, I win," chuckles Bella. She tucks the pencil into her backpack.

"You do," says Trouble. "You're a winner."

"And it worked like a charm," Ethan observes. "Kind of."

"I will treasure it forever. That or actually write on things with it until it is a nubbin."

"Kind of?"

"Depends what you wanted, doesn't it?"

"One of those," laughs Trouble.

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"How come you hang out with Ethan if he doesn't like you? Or vice-versa, for that matter."

"He thinks I'm funny," says Trouble. "We have fun together."

"Mission accomplished," says Ethan. "Congratulations."

"...And this doesn't qualify as liking you? What am I missing?"

Andi giggles. "Thanks."

He grins.

"There's 'like' the way you like a friend, and then there's 'like' the way you like a really good video game. That bakes awesome pies."

"...So is there stuff you miss about home besides the candy?"

"I don't know, I'd be really fond of a video game that baked me pies," remarks Bella, but she doesn't look unsympathetic.

"Maybe I should be your friend," Trouble jokes. "Let you get in on some of that pie."

Ethan shrugs. "The language. It's not as bad as if I'd moved to France, but it's still a headache translating all the little things back and forth."

"Stranger things have happened," snorts Bella.

"Like..." Andi struggles for a moment to think of an example, then says, "Biscuits?"

"And pants."

"And it's really good pie," he tempts.

"What's the word for pants in British, then?"

"I do like pie. I dunno, does being your friend come with any other perks?" Bella snorts.

"Well, I figure you'll wanna skip the blowjobs," says Trouble. "And you probably won't get a kick out of watching me set things on fire."

"The word for pants in British is trousers. The word for underwear in British is pants."

"Yeah, this pie just comes with all kinds of features I do not need."

"Oh! Well, that sounds really awkward," giggles Andi.

"You have no idea. I was very confused before I worked it out."

"So? Take the pie, skip the rest. I don't know, what do you do for fun?"

"Is that the worst one?"

"I read a lot. And write, some, but not stories or anything, just thinking on paper. I hang out with Andi, sometimes other people, do whatever they're doing as long as it doesn't require gross motor skills - watch movies, complain about homework, whatever."

"Complain about homework, yeah, that sounds like a blast," snorts Trouble. "So why don't I just make you a pie sometime?"

"Probably the most embarrassing, at least."

"Does that involve one of us traveling to the others' house?"

"Is there a story there?"

"Hah. I'm very proud to say there isn't."

"Yeah," says Trouble. "Why, is that bad?"

Andi applauds softly, giggling.

"More complicated. Involves parental permission, transit, and deciding which house."

"I could make the pie and then just bring you the pie," he suggests.

Ethan cracks up.

"Pie delivery service. All right. I still have to ask Renée if I can have you over, though."

"So what do you do besides school and reminiscing about foreign candy and avoiding making mistakes with the word 'pants'?"

"Nothing exciting," says Ethan. "The pants thing takes up a lot of concentration."

"Sure," Trouble says agreeably.

Andi laughs again. "I bet you lie awake at night rehearsing conversations."

"Do you just really like making pie and give it away so you can reuse your pie plate again sooner?"

He shrugs. "Maybe."

"You caught me," says Ethan, eyes twinkling. "It's true. I admit it."

"That is an unusual, yet productive, hobby. What kinds of pie?"

"You don't look tired at all, what's your secret?"

"Insane amounts of tea," he deadpans.

"Every kind. What kind do you want? You allergic to anything?"

"Sooooo stereotypical," giggles Andi.

"No food allergies. Don't like raspberry seeds in my teeth, though. Is rhubarb in season yet?"

"No raspberries, check," he says. "Want rhubarb? There can be rhubarb."

"Strawberry rhubarb is possibly the highest form of pie," says Bella.

"My sincerest apologies," chuckles Andi. "However shall I make it up to you?"

Ethan raises his eyebrows.

"Strawberry rhubarb it is," says Trouble.

"I can tell you where my mom goes when she's in the mood for fancy imported tea," suggests Andi.

"Excellent. I think this is the first time I did a favor for my sister and was rewarded with pie. Though she did bake me brownies once."

"Ooh, brownies. Were they tasty?"

"That would certainly help."

"Sure. From scratch, even."

Andi names the intersection and the name of the tea shop.

"I'll remember that," says Ethan.

"Very nice," says Trouble. "What was the occasion?"

"They have this peach tea that's really nice," Andi adds.

"I stayed up all night to help her with a Social Studies project her partners bailed on, eighth grade."

"Aren't you sweet," says Trouble, with apparent genuine feeling.

"That's no good to me," says Ethan. "I'm allergic."

"What else was I gonna do?" shrugs Bella.

"Oh, that's too bad. They have other stuff, anyway."

"I'll be sure to take a look."

"Leave her to it?" suggests Trouble.

"And tell me what you think of it," suggests Andi.

Trouble laughs.

"Could do, could do."

"She helps me with things, too, anyway."

"But will you?"

"I don't know, will I?"

"Aww," says Trouble.

"You'd know better than me!"

"What're you awwing about? We're twins and we act like it."

"Yeah," says Trouble, "and that's cute."

"Are you sure?" says Ethan, impishly. "Maybe you're reading my mind."

"What's cute about it?"

"No-o-o," laughs Andi. "I wouldn't do that without asking, that'd be mean!"

Ethan laughs.

"You know," says Trouble. "People being nice to each other, having good relationships and getting along and stuff. It gives me nice fuzzy feelings."

"And Bella would get on my case about it if I read people's minds, too. 'Specially hers."

"I suppose that's good, then. You an only child?"

He laughs. "Yeah."

"Is uninvited telepathy a big problem in your family?"

"Do you wish you weren't?"

"Nah, not really, I just read novels and then I explain what the story was about to Bella and then she goes on and on about all the things that are wrong with it and then," says Andi, "I have a book report."

...Ethan laughs.

"Oh hell no," says Trouble.

"And if it's science fiction or fantasy and somebody reads somebody's mind she always latches right onto that," says Andi. "So I know how she'd be about it if I were reading people's minds."

"Why not?"

"Skip it," says Trouble. "Juuuust skip it."

"Aha," says Ethan. "But on the other hand, how would she know?"

"Why?"

"Sometimes in the books people can tell. Anyway I wouldn't do it, she'd be so upset. She writes her notebooks - like her diary, I mean - in cipher because one time years ago she caught me reading one."

"And you're a good sister and you'd never go reading her mind if it would upset her so badly," says Ethan.

"Did I not just say, 'skip it'?" says Trouble. "Is that not what I just said?"

"Yeah."

"You did say that. Now I want to know why it is to be skipped. No going up a level of meta, either, huh?"

Bella blinks.