Cousin. They were cousins. She was his cousin. How could they be related? How on earth? Did the universe hate me or something? She was so great, and for a second there I had almost allowed myself to consider what it would be like if I managed to make some friends. Stupid me. This was why you had to be realistic. I couldn't believe he was her cousin. Cousin. Cousin.

"...did you meet?" I felt a soft tap on my forearm and realized that Olivia was talking to me. I blinked, snapping out of my Drew Wilder induced fugue state.

"Hm?" I said blankly, completely lost.

Drew caught my eye and grinned, "You good, neighbor?" The look on his face said he knew exactly what was causing my distress and momentary lapse from the present, and that he was immensely enjoying it.

"Just fine," I replied through gritted teeth, frowning very deeply at him. He just continued on grinning. I focused my entire attention on Olivia, determined to block out my stupid neighbor. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was asking when you two met," she clarified, smiling brightly.

"Oh that's a great story," answered Drew. At the exact same time I said, "Oh, we didn't really."

Zoey looked up from her lunch, dark brows drawing together slightly as she eyed both of us, and Olivia cocked her head, "What?"

I groaned internally. Drew looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, as he bit his lip, waiting for me to say something. I could feel all the eyes on me, and I squirmed. I hated having attention on me; it made me unbelievably uncomfortable, especially when I was surrounded by strangers. My fingers itched to fiddle with the hem of my skirt or pretend my phone was ringing. Why oh why had I decided to sit down at this table? Stupid dance class. Stupid nice girl. I could've been eating lunch peacefully, blissfully alone on a secluded bench, or in my car. But no. I was here. With my asshole neighbor and a strong urge to punch him in his smug little face and run all the way back to Los Angeles.

I sighed heavily, "Um— well, I guess we technically met the day I moved in." I bristled at the memory. "He was lurking by my moving van."

"I tried to help her with a box," corrected Drew, narrowing his eyes at me. "The key word there being tried."

"I didn't need any help," I retorted, unable to stop myself.

He scoffed, "You almost fell on your face."

"I did not!" I cried out, offended.

"I was being courteous."

"You were being annoying."

"You slammed the door in my face!" Drew reminded me emphatically. I didn't need any reminder. That was the only part of the interaction I'd enjoyed.

I crossed my arms over my chest, "Because you were being annoying."

"I told you it was a great story," smirked Drew, nudging Olivia, whose eyebrows had risen so far up they'd practically disappeared into her hairline. The boys looked decidedly entertained, while Zoey had a strange sort of smile on her face. Milo and Priya were, oh— they were making out. Just as well. Less people to witness my humiliation.

"You really slammed the door in his face?" asked Olivia, looking incredulous.

I lifted a shoulder, trying to muster up some shred of guilt, "Little bit, yeah."

"I knew I liked you!" she exclaimed delightedly, slapping me a very enthusiastic high five.

"Wait a second," the tall boy who'd been playing with the soccer ball had suddenly appeared at my side, hopping up onto the edge of the table. "You said—" he paused, "my bad, I'm Walker." He introduced himself, holding out a hand, "big fan of your work."

"You're my best friend," interjected Drew indignantly, flicking the side of his head.

"Shh," hushed Walker, covering Drew's mouth. "You interrupted—" he looked to me expectantly, a question in his brown eyes.

"Eliza Sterling," I laughed, shaking his outstretched hand.

Drew's mouth fell open, "Oh, he gets your name?"

"You didn't even get her name?" snorted Olivia, practically wriggling with glee.

"She's difficult," he attempted to shoot back, but Walker had covered his mouth again so it sounded like muffled gibberish. I had a feeling me and Walker might just get along.

"I think you're just lovely, Eliza," declared Walker, putting extra emphasis on my name. Which I could only suspect was a ploy to get on Drew's nerves. I didn't mind. "Now, before he so rudely talked over you, I was going to ask for a point of clarification."

"Ask away."

"You said technically that was when you met," Walker said. "Why?"

"Wanna let me tell this one, neighbor?"

"Sure," I smiled as sweetly as I could. "Would you like to start with when you perved on the freshman or when you forgot you'd already met me?" Walker howled, doubled over, shoulders shaking, and Zoey choked on a laugh. Even the red head, whose name I couldn't place at the moment, was quietly chuckling to himself.

"Oh my god, I think you're my new hero," breathed Olivia reverently, hand to her heart. Maybe I could make a friend after all. It boded well for me that she enjoyed making fun of her cousin. She swatted Drew, "I can't believe you didn't tell me she moved into the Nussbaum's."

"Maybe I wanted to keep her to myself for a little while," murmured Drew, a dirty glint in his blue eyes.

"Ew," Olivia and I chorused in unison, then shared a smile.

"Now go away," shooed Olivia, kicking her cousin away. "Back to your table. You too, boys," she indicated both Walker and the other one, who'd both migrated over during the conversation. Again I noticed the annoying habit that Drew had of drawing people in wherever he went. "Even you, Milo." He reluctantly extricated himself from Priya, who gave him a teasing smile and blew him a kiss as he went. "We need Eliza time sans testosterone."

"Whatever, Via," Drew stuck his tongue out at her. "I get plenty of Eliza time. We basically share a schedule." Unfortunately, he was correct. Everything besides language, and of course AP Art History, which he'd reminded me of at least three times today. My mood soured just thinking about it. I wished I had zero Drew time.

Olivia didn't seem to have heard him. She gasped, digging around in her bag, "Schedules!" She palmed her forehead, "I cannot believe I forgot to compare schedules with you. This is what happens when I am exposed to my cousin for too long." Olivia pulled her schedule out, and Priya and Zoey followed suit, which I took as my cue to present mine as well. The four of us scanned the sheets of paper closely, searching for alignment.

Olivia let out a squeal of excitement, "We have AP Gov together too!" I discovered I also had it with Zoey, and I had Spanish with Priya, which made me feel slightly better knowing there would be at least one familiar face in that class the next day. Olivia squealed again, "And we share all the same frees because of dance!! Oh my god, this is too perfect. It's basically meant to be! Oh— we have senior privileges, so last period you and I can totally—"

"Via," warned Zoe, fixing her with a calm, but stern look. "Less."

"Careful Vi," snickered Priya, "you're going full cheerleader."

"I am not!" Olivia disagreed shrilly. "Besides," she turned to me, positively beaming, "Elle is going to join the cheer team so she'll have to get used to it sometime."

My brow furrowed in confusion, "Elle?"

"Short for Eliza," shrugged Olivia, like it made all the sense in the world. "Duh."

"Oh no," Priya shook her head, "she nicknamed you. Run." 

"Ri!"

Zoey patted my hand consolingly, "There's no escaping now, Elle."

"Shut up, Zo," Olivia blushed. "So what if I like nicknames?"

"You like them so much that you nickname nicknames!" Zoey replied. "My actual name is Zoella," she informed me with a sigh.

"Priyanka!" Priya called out, further proving their point. Olivia had the decency to look a little embarrassed, but I could tell she was a little proud too.

I've never had a nickname before. Not technically speaking. All of my friends back home just called me Eliza. My mom— she always called me Lizzie, and I used to go by it until high school. Waverly and Dad still called me Lizzie sometimes, but honestly it could be hard to hear. It reminded me of her, and that just hurt. Eliza was what I was used to, but for some reason I didn't really mind Elle. It sounded way cooler than I was, but it also made me feel sorta special.

"Call me Via, by the way," Olivia— no—Via told me. "Or Vi. It doesn't matter. No one calls me Olivia besides my mom when she's pissed off at me." Both Priya and Zoey gave her a look. "Okay fine," Via relented, "maybe I have a teeny tiny obsession with nicknames."

"Oh, Vi," Priya consoled her, squeezing her hand, "you know we find it endearing."

"Endearingly insane," muttered Zoey under her breath. Priya swiftly kicked her under the table. I hid a smile behind my hand. I was warming to them. It helped that they all reminded me of Magnolia. Their teasing familiarity with one another made my heart ache for home, long for burritos in the quad back at Hyland with Maggie and Aaron and everyone. God, I missed it. The second I got home I was going to call them. That was a lie. I hated calling people first. Made me feel too needy. That was why Aaron and I made such a good pair because he always called me, which saved me the hassle.

I bit the inner corner of my cheek, trying to ease the painful pang in my chest. I'd text her later. She was going to flip out when she heard about the dance class, and flip even harder when I told her I was considering joining the cheer team. She'd be proud of me, though. That was the great thing about Mags. I think she'd like these girls. At least, I hope she would.

"So," I felt Zoey's hawk like gaze settle on me, "what's your thing, Elle?"

I stared at her, forehead wrinkling, "My— thing?" I didn't really understand the question, but all three of them sat there expectantly, eagerly awaiting my response.

"You know," Priya waved her hands aimlessly around in the air, "your passion. Your reason for waking, being, existing. The secret to your soul, et cetera, et cetera..." I blinked very rapidly at her.

"Your thing," Zoey repeated, as if that helped.

"Um—" I chewed on my lower lip, shrugging, "I guess— I don't know— I don't really think I have one."

Both girls snorted. "Oh, you definitely have a thing."

"I—"

"Via would not have brought you here if you didn't have a thing," Zoey said, all matter of fact. "That's her thing."

"Well, one of them at least," Priya said, mouth turning up at the edges. "Because Via's thing is everything." I couldn't fathom a word of what they were saying. I didn't know if they were talking in metaphors or riddles, but whatever the case it was spinning my mind a bit too quickly.

Via rolled her eyes, "Don't listen to them." But the sparkle in her green eyes told a different story. In this moment, it was easier for me to believe her and my asshole neighbor were related.  I certainly saw the similarities between her and Drew now.  And not just the physical ones, but the patterns of their speech and that peculiar magnetic quality they both seemed to have. Something I couldn't quite name. Of course, on Via it wasn't irritating.

"C'mon," wheedled Zoey. "Think about it." She pointed in rapid fire succession around the table, "Swim, dance," she pointed at herself, "politics," she paused, finger landing on me. I knew what she meant now. It was the first thought that had crossed my mind when they'd introduced themselves, and I'd been struck with how focused they were. A nuclear friend group, three powers. I certainly didn't belong. So then, why was I here?

"I— I really don't know," I said, shaking my head. Except that wasn't true. Not totally, at least. There was one thing that had sprung to mind, but it wasn't something I talked about. Ever. "I read a lot. And I guess—" I muttered, "I like to write stuff sometimes, but that doesn't really—"

Via snapped her fingers together, lighting up, "There it is."

Zoey and Priya smiled, "You have a thing."

"It's really not—" I started to protest. I really shouldn't have said anything. Why did I have to go and say that? I was so good at being quiet. So so good. Was my brain suffering some sort of meltdown from the trauma of being the new girl? Because I'd made several consecutive bad decisions today. Starting with getting out of my damn car.

Via held a finger up, stopping me mid sentence, "It so is." I opened my mouth to protest again, but I didn't get the chance to make a sound. "I saw your face when you said it. Don't even."

"But—" Resistance was futile with Olivia Vasquez Wilder, ad I was quickly discovering.

"What do you write?" she questioned, leaning in interestedly. "Poems? Stories? Prose? Advice? J—"

"Via," Zoey cautioned.

"I know, I know," Via said, hushing the girl. "Less. Whatever." She focused back on me, "What do you write?"

"It's nothing, really," I said earnestly. Because it was nothing, really. Less than nothing, even. "I wrote a couple articles for the newspaper at my old school. Mostly opinion stuff." I couldn't believe I was telling them this. Maggie didn't know. Even Aaron didn't know. Mainly because our newspaper wasn't like a big thing, and I consoled myself with the fact that no one would read it. The truth was, I had really enjoyed it. I'd gotten to edit a few pieces too when I'd had spare time. I just— I always liked writing. English was my favorite class after all, but there was something so intriguing about journalism to me. It was a special niche of English that I gravitated towards, especially because the style of writing was so specific and I loved that about it. And— my mom used to read the newspaper with me every morning before school. She always said the smell of the ink was her personal crack.

I actually created my own newspaper when I was around eight or so. It was called the Sterling Post, and I wrote very gripping articles about my favorite outfits and the dinner we'd had the night before. I made Waverly dress up as a paper boy to deliver them around the house and everything.

"Shut up!" squealed Via, leaping up from her seat in excitement. "The editor of our paper graduated last year! And I know they're still looking for someone to fill the position."

I blanched, "Oh no— I don't think that's—" I was nowhere near experienced enough for that. Besides, being editor of the school newspaper, however tempting it sounded, would really interfere with my plans of invisibility for the year. 

"You have Miss Dawson for English right?" Via didn't wait for me to confirm before launching into her next idea. "She's the faculty advisor for the paper, and you have her next which means you can show her why you're the woman for the job!" 

"I can't—"

"It's no use," Zoey murmured to me with a wry smile. "She nicknamed you."

"But I really don't—" Had I gone through the fucking looking glass?

Priya shook her head, "She won't stop until she hears you agree."

Meanwhile Via was still gushing profusely, bouncing as she squeezed my arm, "And the newspaper doesn't conflict with cheer at all! It's kismet!" Her joy was sort of infectious, and I couldn't help but smile back at her, even though my stomach was churning at the thought of convincing a teacher I didn't know that I was qualified for a position that I couldn't even let myself want. Don't get your hopes up, Sterling. Never get your hopes up.

I laughed in spite of myself, "Who said I was doing cheer?" But I kind of wanted to now. If only so I could hear Maggie shriek about trying for years to get me to do dance team with her. Plus, Drew had been so sure I couldn't dance I wanted to prove him wrong.

"Oh please," scoffed Via, as if it was a given. "You are. The real question is, will you talk to Miss Dawson?" She clasped her hands together, batting those emerald eyes at me shamelessly, "C'mon, Elle. You know you want to." It didn't matter if I wanted to. I couldn't. I just couldn't. I really hated to disappoint her, but I couldn't.

"I—" I sighed. For some reason, I couldn't force my mouth to form the word 'can't'. It was just one little word. Tell her you can't, Eliza! Say it! Just-- "I'll try."

She nicknamed me.