You live! For now... but it's not all sunshine and roses.

The cool summer air and the cascade of colours from the setting sun make for a beautiful night.

The crickets are starting to chirp and there's even a few fireflies out already. On the horizon, the moon is on its rise, and the light cascades through the woods behind Pearl's house. In the other corner is an old trampoline that you nearly broke your neck on after Pearl shoulder checked you off of it in the tenth grade.

Above you, the tiny whites of the first few stars of the night. The quiet settling of the neighbourhood brings a sense of peace to the day.

All of this in juxtaposition to the figure of your best friend that stands in front of you. She is shaking and looks about ready to fully unleash herself upon you. The brief flicker of arousal you saw earlier seems to be gone. In its place, she seems to have settled on another emotion.

“What the fuck, Chase?! I thought you were gonna text me when you got here!”

You realize that emotion she settled on is rage. You’ve only seen Pearl truly angry a handful of times in your life, and you had counted yourself very lucky that none of those previous episodes were directed at you. Might as well start saying your prayers. Or try to find a way out of this with at least one of your heads still attached.

“Why is it that lately you feel entitled to just walk into my house like you own the place?!”

Her voice catches in her throat as another drop of panic hits an already seething cauldron.

“Do you own the place now? Did you claim my fucking house?”

Oh, right. You could do that, if you wanted to...

“What? No, c’mon, why would I-”

Pearl lunges forward, and you're sure this is the moment she kills you. She's probably going to bury you underneath the trampoline. She grabs you by the collar and pulls you down, staring face to face with you as she spits out:

“DidyouclaimanythingfromMacy?”

Wait... what?

“What?”

Your mind scatters for a second. Focus! Focus on the emotionally volatile friend currently manhandling you, imposing into your space in a way that makes you feel small despite your having a half-foot of height on her, seething in… contempt? Concern?

“Did you, claim anything, from my sister?” Her voice finally breaks on that last word.

Pearl is actually, genuinely panicked. Far more than you’ve ever seen her, if you’ve ever seen her. She doesn’t care about the house, she’s terrified about what you might do to her sibling.

And gods, it feels fucking awful. Just like seeing your best friend in this state. You may have no manual for what to do when faced with a Pearl you never thought you’d see, but your instinct to assuage kicks in automatically. You grip her bare shoulders and look her softly but sternly in the eye.

“I swear on my life, I did not claim anything from your sister.”

Her eyes soften back, and you can feel her frame relax a smidge under your touch. Her voice comes out quieter this time, but still wary.

“…did you tell her anything about last night?”

“Nothing. We barely even said anything to each other before you came down the stairs.”

You rub her shoulders a little. That’s supposed to be calming, right? Not something you’d ever pictured doing to Pearl, but hey, you’re flying blind here.

Indeed, bit by bit, her panic recedes. Her breath slows. Pearl makes a token effort to re-erect her typical composed veneer, with debatable success. Her eyes narrow as her hold on your shirt loosens.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to just jump you like that,” she mutters.

Conversation slows to an awkward halt as you both seem to realize you’ve no idea how to proceed in this new situation. That seems to be happening a lot to you two lately.

But as you maintain eye contact, your proximity to each other slowly dawns on the both of you. Her hands still balled in your shirt, her body still encased in your grip. All other sounds and stimuli fade away as your worlds shrink to just each other. It’s just the petite woman in front of you, the blue of her gaze locked on yours, boring into you, eliciting a spark in your heart and your groin. Goosebumps spread across her shoulderblades under your palms. Her breathing picks up again, less heavy but more heady. Her hands tighten once more.

Pearl’s eyes flick briefly down to your lips. Your hand trails down her side, coming to rest above her hip, snaking under her top, caressing her skin. A light noise like a **** mewl escapes her mouth. Your bodies move towards each other-

She flinches from the ding-dong as the doorbell chimes inside. And the world comes flooding back in.

Pearl pushes away from you, quick and uneasy, like she just now realized where she is. She stumbles a little at the sudden release, and also maybe from all the blood having rushed to certain parts of her body. As for you, you’re left blinking, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“I’m fucking hungry.”

You concur. Some food would be pretty good as you try and recover from the all emotional whiplash the last ten minutes have thrown at you. You motion to head inside for pizza.

“Wait.”

Pearl holds out a fist in front of your chest and speaks without looking at you.

“Promise me no claiming shit tonight. Not from Macy, not from anyone.”

She lowers her arm and wraps both around herself self-consciously.

“…the whole point of this hangout was to just have fun. Maybe figure some shit out.” She shuffles her feet against the ground. “Could we pretend things are at least semi-normal? Just for tonight?”

"Pearl. I was worried you dragged me out here to **** me. I am perfectly ok with figuring some shit out, and pretending things are semi-normal." After a moment, you both drop your hands. You bump her shoulder with yours. “I would never hurt Macy. Or you.”

Pearl lets out an exhale and looks up with a chuckle.. “**** eh?”

You shift nervously on your feet. "Or a beat down with a shovel?"

“We definitely have things we need to figure out, but I promise I have no plans of unaliving'. After all, I'm pretty sure you're still my best friend.” She gives you a friendly little shove. "Common, let's get some pizza."

And with that, you head inside.

Upon return to the kitchen you are borne witness to two aromatic boxes of pizza and the clink of Macy pulling plates from the cupboard. You’re the kind of guy who believes that your own hand is plate enough, at least when it comes to pizza, but Klara Nowak is known to be a stickler when it comes to cleanliness and food manners and the like, and both her children seem to have inherited the trait, at least to some extent. You’ve long since learned to just follow along. Could be worse. You saw their mom eat pizza with a knife and fork once.

Macy greets you both with a pair of dishes and a questioning expression. She seems quite curious as to what compelled Pearl to drag you off so suddenly, but hesitant to ask anything. She gives Pearl some kind of ‘is everything ok’ look, to which Pearl responds with a ‘don’t worry about it’ look of her own. You stand awkwardly by as they perform some kind of sibling-to-sibling telepathy conversation that you’re too much of an only child to comprehend.

They reach some sort of tenuous agreement, to what end you could not say, and Pearl starts prying open the boxes. “Please tell me you got chipotle pineapple.”

Macy mumbles a monotone affirmative into her own salami-slathered slice, her judgey eyes making clear just what she thinks of her sister’s preferred toppings.

Pearl nudges you. “I’m gonna fix my makeup. Meet me in my room in five. Bring pizza.”

You recognize the olive branch for what it is and offer as placating a smile as you can in an attempt to reassure her that you pose no threat when left alone with Macy.

You didn’t really consider whether or not the reverse might be true, though. After Pearl disappears upstairs, Macy grabs a very real, very non-vegetable knife from the counter and directs it at you, not seeming to be joking.

“I hear yelling, and then I see my baby sister look like she’s been crying. Did you hurt her?”

Bro, you’re literally just here to play video games. Can you seriously not go six seconds without one girl accusing you of messing with the other? The protectiveness in this household could make a bomb shelter blush.

“Swear to god, I did not. She was just… concerned. About something. Not my place to tell.”

Macy stares into your eyes with an icy look like she’s analyzing the depths of your heart’s intentions. Apparently finding you sincere, or at least complacent, she slowly lowers her blade, maintaining eye contact all the while. Then, like a switch has been flipped, she does a complete one-eighty, returning to her usual casual demeanour. Unnerving.

“Yeah, she said something like that to me earlier. Something about her future? I’unno. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.” Macy pushes the box of spicy pineapple towards you.

“Take this abomination and go finish it without me. She’s waiting for you. But seriously, if I find out you did anything to her…”

She mimes some kind of elaborate body mutilation. You can’t tell exactly what it is she’s saying she’d do to you, but it’s accompanied by a lot of cartoony mouth noises depicting broken bones and split flesh. She then proceeds to laugh it off like it’s no big deal.

Alright then. Going upstairs might be a good idea right about now.