Alya and Nino didn't speak to each other throughout the whole day.

When Alya would walk through the hallways, Nino would evade her, making Marinette very suspicious.

As class began, he wouldn't even look at her. In fact, he pretend she wasn't there. He would keep facing forward, periodically speak to Marinette and Adrien. In the minute they actually made eye contact, his face would look hurt, but would try to cover it up in any way possible so that Alya wouldn't notice.

"What's with you and Nino?" Marinette asked as the bell rang.

"What's wrong with me and Nino?" Alya rose her brow and looked at Marinette.

"You two have been acting... strange lately."

"Maybe you are the one that's acting strange" Alya replied.

"Did you guys have a fight?" Marinette asked, concern showing in her tone of voice. "Alya, I'm your best friend! You can trust me with this!"

"I'm not in the mood to talk about it, okay?" Alya replied, packing her books inside her backpack.

"This conversation is not over" Marinette said as Alya grabbed her backpack.

"Yes, it is." She put her phone inside her pocket, and left.

***
"They were just concerned about you! Why would you blow them off like that?"

Alya thought as she walked down the street to go home.

"Nino and Marinette were just being good friends!"

She groaned.

"Okay fine! I made a mistake!" She muttered to herself.

Suddenly, the brunette heard her phone ringing, and was about to take it out of her pocket— but it wasn't there.

"Wha-no! Oh my frick, please no!"

She searched inside her bag, books and pencil case, yet still it was nowhere to be seen.

She turned around to see if she had dropped it, and to her luck, it was there. Her precious phone was lying on the crosswalk. Next to her phone, an old man with a hawaiian t-shirt, and a small baton was walking agonizingly slowly. Alya approached to the crosswalk, when she saw a car at full speed coming closer to the old man's current location.

"Hey! Watch out!" She yelled and grabbed the old man by the hand, with no time left to save her phone.

Once she pulled him to the sidewalk, she turned her back to face the street, just to see her phone smashed into pieces.

"No, no, no, no!" Alya rushed to the pieces left of her phone, searching for the memory card, which luckily, remained untouched.

The brunette sighed in relief as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about your phone, miss." The old man looked down.

"No, don't blame yourself, it was my fault for dropping it..." She looked down at the elder man as her eyes widened. "We shouldn't be talking about my phone... Are you okay, sir?"

"Yes, thanks to you, miss—"

"Alya, my name is Alya."

***

Before Alya opened the door of her house, shoved the memory card into the pocket of her blouse.

She opened the door, just to be received by two little sisters. Both were sitting on the couch, arms crossed, feet dangling off the couch and a big frown.

"Where were you?" The first one asked.

"Yeah! Explain yourself young lady!" The second one exclaimed.

Alya raised her eyebrows and stood there, staring at her younger sisters.

Why are you so surprised? She thought.

"So? Are you going to tell us, or are we supposed to call mom?" The first one asked.

"Well Etta, there's this place I have to go almost everyday." Alya began, putting down her backpack.

Alya looked around, and signaled them to come forward. She leaned onto their ears and whispered:
"It's called school."

"I'm not entirely convinced, but we will let you go with a warning this time." Ella said, while Etta giggled.

After the twins left to play whatever toddlers play this days, Alya proceeded to get inside her room, and throw herself on her bed.

She let out a sigh and raised her head, just to find a small octagonal wooden box with red carvings.

"What's this?"