Brianne Striker, at sixteen years old, was the kind of insufferable teenager who would do exactly what you told her not to do for the sole purpose of spitting in your face. The whole school knew of her, could point her out as she moved through the halls, recognized her by her crimson leather jacket and camera bag at her hip. She moved like a stormcloud, deliberate but at the same time completely unpredictable, and people were never sure when she would open up and the downpour would sweep them away.

 

      Brianne smirked and sped her walk, following a familiar head of golden blonde out of the school and to the parking lot.

 

      “Meredith!”

 

      The girl spun around, and at the sight of her innocent grin, Bri’s smirk softened, melted into a gentle smile to match.

 

      Brianne might be a downpour, but Bri was a morning breeze.

 

      “Hey, hon,” Bri said, twining their fingers and falling into step next to her. Car keys twirled in her free hand. “Fancy a ride home, or ditching me for your boy again?”

 

      Meredith laughed and squeezed her hand, which was plenty of answer for Bri. When you’d grown up with someone, words were sometimes the biggest waste of time. With a hip nudge, Bri let her go.

 

      “Right, I getcha. Go, be free, seduce your man.” Bri made a shooing motion with her hands, keys jingling merrily. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

 

      Meredith laughed, adjusting her bag. “Is there anything on that list?”

 

      “Nope,” Bri said with a pop. “So go!”

 

      Bri watched Meredith take off into the parking lot, her smile only falling when the smaller girl was out of sight. Another night alone then. No big deal.

 

      Right.