The twins try to behave normally with their father or his pod person, whichever the person who calls them is, for a value of "normally" that involves adamantly continuing to want nothing to do with the Sharing.
And sometimes crying and refusing to tell Renée what's wrong.
School proceeds. No one's grades see more than a minor downturn as a result of all the alien business.
Andi and Robin play music. Andi's getting pretty good on the drums, although her teacher moves away and she has to hunt up another one, who she sticks with for four lessons before deciding to go self-taught.
Bella tightens up her cipher. It began as a letter substitution and since then has evolved to include plenty of personal shorthand - she turns the ratio of shorthand to straightforward letters up as far as she can and still read the thing herself. She abbreviates, she leaves out spaces, she names things in roundabout ways, she refers to things many notebooks ago that she can find easily that anyone else could spend hours hunting for, if she has to record names she finds ways to describe the spelling without ever placing all of the characters in sequence. Maybe the aliens have super-cryptanalysis and super-OCR and can eat her notebooks in one bite and know everything they know; but maybe not, and maybe if she's careful enough she'll look like she's writing her paranoid diary and not like she's taking notes on the quiet invasion.
Trouble comes over a lot. He stays over a lot. Renée has a quiet conversation about him with Bella, in which Bella is vague, pretends ignorance, suggests that maybe he just likes it here, maybe his folks are allergic to gluten and won't eat his baked goods? Renée leaves it alone.
May begins.
"There's no 'just' in there anymore. You have my life and my twin sister's life, plus Robin's and Ethan's lives - and our un-Yeerked status - in the palm of your hand. One of the things I need to function is to keep the best track I possibly can of what risks are being run with those things. I'm sure you'd hold up brilliantly under conventional interrogation, but the Yeerks don't need to conventionally interrogate you if they get ahold of you. So - what do you need so that we can, jointly, function?"
"If you just want me to not run off and do stupid shit that might get you killed without telling you first, I can do that," says Trouble.
"I could use some, but I'm not sure it'll do the job," says Trouble. "...How about we talk about this... later?"
"Is it just me or is not having somebody in charge a recipe for disaster? I don't think armies and stuff do it that way just because they couldn't decide which number of uniform stripes looked prettiest and they wanted an excuse to use them all."
"Well, for one thing, when Bella turned into me that was one thing but I bet if we turn into butterflies or whatever we can't talk to each other, so we have to be coordinated in advance if we're gonna do stuff in morph."
"Elfangor talked," says Trouble, thoughtfully. "Bet you I could talk too, if I morphed him."
"...And the Visser talked. When he was still the what'd-he-call-it, he made that crack about taking a bite out of your enemies. So is that because he was an Andalite to start with, or running one at least, or is it because morphing lets you do that?"
"Well, if being able to morph lets you do it, then I - at minimum, possibly all of us - should be able to do it right now," muses Bella. "I just have no idea how."
He makes no move to actually do so.
"Do you anticipate having the privacy to do this somewhere other than here? There are -" She glances around. "Random appliance boxes you could go stand behind."
"Here's probably best. Ethan's place has privacy for having sex, not so much for turning into an Andalite, given the parents. I'll just go hide behind a box, huh?"
Bella nods. "Not that I'm not curious what it looks like, but I can do my butterfly test in the mirror."
Trouble goes and hides behind a box. There is the sound of clothing being removed, and then some other, moderately disturbing noises.
"The Visser morphing was pretty gross, but his end result was gross - I guess it's about the process too?"
<This is pretty cool,> he says, inspecting his six-fingered Andalite hands with his main eyes. <Hey, I wonder if I can... nope. Turns out you can't go straight from one morph to another. Did he say that? I forget.>
"If he did I missed it. That's a serious limit, then, have to pause to be human every two hours minimum. So what's being an Andalite like?"
<Kind of... jumpy,> he muses. <No, maybe jumpy's the wrong word. Alert. Goes with the eyes, I guess. I think I like it. And the tail's not bad either. Probably the strongest part of my body right now.>
Bella writes the no-morph-to-morph limitation. "So you're getting - psychological effects, too? The alertness...?"