Mirrored Conflicts (a Sokeefe story)

Chapter 13: The Plans

"I have never known anyone so horrendously fake," Samantha Daniels finished with a dramatic flourish as she finished telling the story, like the theater kid she was.

"Okay, yeah, she sucks," Natalie Freeman agreed, pulling out a thick sketchbook from the second drawer under her nightstand. "Need the scribble book?"

"Yes please." Samantha took the book eagerly, and as soon as she had a marker in hand, she began furiously scribbling all over the nearest page. "I'm never talking to her ever again. I already blocked her phone number."

"Do your mutual friends know about this?"

Samantha groaned. "No, because I'm worried they'll choose her side!"

"No shot, not if they're real friends!" Natalie insisted. "You're obviously in the right here."

"Yeah, but I'm paranoid!"

A crack of thunder drew both of their attentions to the window, which showed the sunniest, clearest day they'd ever had that April.

"...Huh," Samantha said.

"Nature is freakish," Natalie agreed.

When the doorbell rang, Natalie perked up. "That must be Anthony!" she exclaimed. "Be right back." She immediately started racing down the stairs.

She smoothed out her hair with her fingers slightly before she opened the door. "Hi!" she exclaimed, before she stopped in her tracks.

The boy at the door was decidedly not Anthony. He was standing there, looking minorly awkward. "Hi," he said in an accent she couldn't quite place. "I am being very forced to do this, by the way."

"...Forced to do what?"

"...Sell you these!" He exclaimed, his smile looking painful as he held up a bag of baked goods. "They're four doodle—dolloo—doddle–daller— I hate this language!"

Another boy stepped into view, and uh, wow, okay, these guys were genuinely gorgeous, what was happening? Between his dark hair and strikingly teal eyes... "Four dollars each," he finished in much smoother English, and his accent was decidedly British-adjacent.

"Uhh... what is this a fundraiser for?"

"Hm? Oh. Uh..." The one with the teal eyes asked, looking over at the strawberry blonde.

"Don't look at me," the strawberry blonde mumbled. "Knowing English and speaking English are very different things."

The teal eyed one got a briefly far away look in his eyes, and then returned to the conversation with confidence, which was weird. "Swim team."

At a school nearby? Because... one of them could hardly remember how to speak English, and neither of them had American accents, and actually what was even going on?

"Well... I don't need anything," Natalie said slowly, "but good luck?"

"Do your parents want any?" The strawberry blonde checked. There was a distinct look in his eye, like he was checking for something.

"They aren't home," she said, "but thanks for offering!"

Alarm set in on both of the guys' faces, and they shared a look.

Okay, Natalie was beginning to be seriously creeped out. "Which isn't really any of your business, but I wish you and your swim team the best," she said, hoping they could hear the finality.

"Are your parents okay?" The teal-eyed one asked urgently.

"Yes? They're at the store?"

"You guys!" a girl's voice groaned, and a blonde girl came into view. "You're so monumentally bad at this!"