Dasom bit into a vegan cupcake, savoring the low-calorie pastry with a small, content sigh between mouthfuls.  She brushed the crumbs off her horseback riding jodhpurs.  

    “God, it’s been like, forever,” I said, picking lint off my skirt.  

    Hara brought scratched her head over her paynes grey beret, bringing the point of her Mont Blanc pen down on her homework before resuming her writing.  

    “It’s been a month.” Hyuna set her chai tea latte on the pink coffee table.  “But, a month away from Sugar Daddy’s trumps forever.” She discreetly slipped her structured heels before tucking her feet under one of the cushions on the chair.  The Givenchy fur vest had disappeared after the broadcast this morning.  Good girl.  

    Ever since eighth, the small bakery and cafe became the place we met up after school every week.  Sometimes more frequently, sometimes more timely.  The pastel color schemed interior suit just right for us, and the cupcakes were heavenly.  Not to mention, it wasn’t just our spot, most of the student body that had a life outside of school swung by too. 

    My eyes veered to Hara, who still had her attention trained on her literature workshop homework.  She ran her acrylic nails over her skinnies, looking kind of… frustrated.  She only said one thing in the last ten minutes after taking our orders.  She wasn’t checking her messages, twitter, instagram, her pinterest, nothing.  In fact, her phone was dead cold.  Which meant no gossip or new-in.  This was a first.  Discreetly, I nudged Dasom’s shin with my flats, nodding torwards Hara.  

    She shrugged, “H? You okay?” Hara looked up, her eyes wide.  

    “Hm?” 

    “Yeah,” I joined, crossing my arms over my chest, “You look like you need like, a macaron or something.”

    “What? I’m fine.  You know, just… grades,” Hara replied offhandedly, the tips of her ears suddenly turning red.  Hyuna snickered, swiping a red velvet cupcake off the platter in the center.  “What.” 

    Hyuna waved her hands like ladidah.  “Oh, nothing.” 

    “Are you sure?” I searched Hara’s expressions for any other cracks.  She pulled out a tube of Mac lipgloss, gliding the stick over her bottom lips.  

    “Yeah, of course.  You know my parents, super over this crap.” Hara rolled her eyes, dropping her hands on her lap.  Lie.  I went along with it anyway, knowing she would tell me later without the other girls around.  

    Thirty minutes and two cups of skim milk foam later, Dasom picked up her things for her pilates class, Hyuna was offered a ride from an older senior boy, and I found out I had to pick up my sister from school.

    “Wait, what? I thought she was supposed to be at ballet right now.” 

    “That’s what I told Isaac, but she’s still at the playground, and I figured you were by the bakery with your friends,” my mom sounded urgent over the phone.  I could practically hear her playing with her emerald Swarvoski brooch over the phone line.   That was what she always did when she was anxious, cutting edge.  Or panicking.   

    “Actually, I’m at the library,” I lied, agitated.  Hara and I walked out of the swinging glass doors, immediately buttoning our coats in the frigid cold.  

    “Close enough.  This isn’t the first time you’ve picked her up, honey.” 

    “Where’s Isaac?” I barked, kicking the heel of my seude ankle booties to the pavement.  

    “He’s with me, I’m on my way to see a client, but… traffic’s a little heavy.”

    “Fine.” I hung up, groaning.  “Sorry, Hara, I have to go pick up my sister right now, but if you still need a—“ 

    “Totes, it’s fine,” Hara smiled.  “I’ll see you tomorow, kay? And text me if anything comes up and you can’t make it to Rive Gauche this weekend!” 

    “Uhm, have I ever bailed?” I asked, pulling on my pale green Mulberry mittens.  

    “You know me, I can’t ever be too careful,” Hara poked jokingly, giving me a small hug before waving and turning to leave.  

    “Wait!” I gripped her wrist, biting my tongue before asking, “What’s really going on, Hara? You seemed kind of stressed this entire week.” 

    Her face paled, a little more than a bit crestfallen.  “N-nothing.  What are you talking about?” 

    “It’s just… I mean, you aren’t talking as much, is all.” 

    “Oh? Really? I…”

    “And since when did your parents care about your grades? You’re always pulling out A’s.” I started talking a bit slower when her expression seemed to stiffen.  

    “Nothing.” 

    “Seriously, Hara? You aren’t going to tell me anything?”