3:15 [fezco]

twelve

T W E L V E - G I R L F I G H T

"it's about to be a what? girlfight!"

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"Yo, Fez. So, you know how in every 90's thriller, right, Morgan Freeman plays, like, the same semi-psychic black cop." Rue rambled from the doorway of Fez's grandma's room. Fez and I shared a confused look before glancing back at the manic girl standing in front of us.

"Yeah," He glanced up at her, continuing to wipe a sponge across his grandma's chest.

"Side note, that's kinda racist, but the point is, in every movie, he's always calmly putting the fucking pieces of the case together, while everybody else around him is fucking freaking out, saying 'You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Morgan. You're—you're a fucking bad husband. You should fucking retire." Fez and I shared another glance. My eyes were focused on the spastic girl in front of me, both because I wanted to give Marie some privacy, but also because I was worried about Rue.

"But no, Morgan is fucking hyper-focused. Because he can see beyond the little details. He's looking for the big fuckin' picture. Because all of this shit? It's connected, Fez. And it is way bigger than any of us can even fucking see." Rue pointed at her head furiously. "The point is that's me. Right now, that is fucking me. I can see everything so fucking clearly. I know what happened, I know why it happened, and I know what the fuck I'm gonna do about it."

"Word." He looked up at her quickly.

"Word." She stared down at Marie for a moment. "She can't hear me, right?"

"She can't see you either." I informed her, leaning back against the window.

"Okay, good. 'Cause this is, like, some real top-secret shit." Rue stepped further into the room.

"Trust me, Rue, she not gon' gossip." Fez twisted the water out of his sponge before continuing.

"Okay," she breathed, clapping her hands together. "Do you still have that gun?"

"What gun?" My question was directed to Fez as I turned my head to look at him.

"The one from the couch." Rue furrowed her eyebrows at me, pointing out toward the living room. My eyes widened in surprise. We spent a lot of time on that couch and in this house, and I never realized Fezco had a gun. He shot me a sideways glance.

"I mean, I got a couple guns."

"Why do you have so many guns?" Rue's eye twitched when she asked him, taking the words right out of my mouth.

"My grandma."

"Oh, cool," She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"What you worried about my guns for?"

"Okay, well, I was thinking..." she hesitated. "Maybe you could use one to scare Nate Jacobs." Fez and I both gave rue an incredulous look and my mouth fell open in shock.

"Rue, I love you but that is a horrible idea." I stepped forward.

"Are you serious?" Fez took a small break from the sponge bath, his face expressionless as he stared at Rue.

"I mean, I'm not not serious."

"Rue, that must be the dumbest shit you've said all fucking day." He placed one hand on his knee to lean closer to her.

"You don't have to fucking point it at him. You could just—you could, like—you could flash it." She pulled up the side of her jacket as an example, flashing us a non-existent gun on her hip.