Salena was between a rock and a hard place. More accurately, a blonde and a brunette. Neither had said a word since their unfortunate pairing, and Salena wasn't inclined to break the icy silence. They'd automatically followed Carissa as they'd entered the center, trailing slightly behind as she led them into the superstore that dominated the far side of the building. Without an iota of hesitation, she led them to an aisle that boasted more hair-colours than Salena thought existed.

"Pick," Carrie instructed sharply, folding her arms across her chest.

Salena's hand darted to her hair, combing her brown locks back into place. "Is this really necessary?"

The other girl gave an exaggerated nod. "If you ask me, it's long overdue."

Fixing her with a heavy scowl, Ebony snatched a bottle of black dye off the shelf. It might have been the only colour there darker than her own, but all the action earned her was a smirk from Carissa.

"How predictable," she murmured, pouting dramatically. "Picking the best colour to tremble in the shadows with."

She snatched a bottle of purple dye off the shelf and tossed it to Salena. "Here."

"I don't think..."

"Trust me," Carrie interrupted, moving one aisle over and grabbing a large pair of scissors. "The best way to fit in is to try to stand out. That way you fail with everybody else. Only the people who look like they're trying to blend in get remembered." She cast a sideways glance at Ebony. "Then again, there's an exception to every rule."

She swiveled sharply on her heel, marching to the next section: clothing. Without asking permission or opinions, she snatched a few skirts, dresses and pairs of jeans off the racks.

"Get a sweater each," she instructed, jerking her head at the shelves as she piled her arms high with clothing.

The other two girls shuffled over to the jumpers, Ebony lifted up a baggy sweatshirt with a content cat's face embroidered on the front.

Without actually looking their way, Carissa snorted. "If you buy that, no decent person will ever go near you again." Hearing what she'd said, Carrie perked up and smiled at her sweetly. "Actually, I think you should get it."

Salena watched Ebony's eye twitch as she lowered the item back onto the shelf. Carrie almost looked disappointed.

"...decent people....does she even know any...."

Wincing at the thoughts that reached her, Salena selected a piece of blue polka-dot knitwear and cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Are you OK?"She asked quietly, eyes darting back to make sure Carissa was otherwise entertained.

Ebony plastered on a smile. "Peachy." A muscle in her jaw twitched and she sighed. "Oh screw it," she snapped, snatching the cat jumper back up. Carissa could suck it!

Salena watched her with wide, cautious eyes that darted to the blonde as she turned back to them.

"Are you going to stay here all day, or can we go buy all of this stuff now?"

Austen and Phitz stood in the middle of the plaza, exchanging blank glances as they tried to figure out what they were doing.

"So..." Austen offered slowly after a minute, "Haz said food and camouflage, right?" He pointed to the shop on the corner. "How about a haircut?"

His friend dragged a hand through his chocolate hair, feeling the inches drag between his fingers. "Do you reckon I could pull off a skinhead look?" He asked as they started towards the barbershop.

Austen cast him a sideways glance. "Don't go bald all the way yet - leave that to fate."

Phitz grimaced and they walked the rest of the way in silence. They pushed their way into the store and were greeted by a cheerful, grey-haired gentleman behind the counter.

"We were hoping you could squeeze us in for a quick cut?" he asked optimistically, eyeing the empty salon.

"Of course, of course," he cried, gesturing them to seats and calling for another employee to come and assist him. Then he took his position behind Austen and met the boy's eyes in the mirror. "So how can I help you this evening?"

Studying his own reflection, Austen looked at him shabby brown hair, the edges of which just curled into his eyes. "I want to look different," he said finally, "As different as possible."

The old man's lips quirked. "Avoiding someone?"

The question hit a little too close to home and Austen glanced at him quickly. He saw the twinkle of humour in the man's eye and forced a laugh.

"If a certain ex-girlfriend couldn't tell who I was then I wouldn't be unhappy," he joked in a strangled tone.

The barber didn't seem to notice, sending him a wink as he whipped a cape out and draped it across the boy's chest. "None of my customers leave 'unhappy'."

Trying to look at his friend in the mirror, Austen noticed two familiar adults being escorted to a table at a restaurant across the plaza. Mr Irving straightened his tie and tried to tell himself that this was not the most terrifying part of his day. Watching his colleague slide gracefully into her seat, staring up at him with patient blue eyes until he remembered to sit as well, he swallowed hard.

She frowned at him delicately. "Are you OK? You seem a little bit uncomfortable..."

"I'm fine," Anthony answered too quickly, snatching a menu off the table and passing it to her. "Haz just irritates me. Brings back memories from before I was a teacher."

Ella tilted her head. "How so?"

"Eh, just the attitude. Flippant, care-free," he shrugged, "I don't really know what it is about him but something just doesn't sit right with me."

"I'd forgotten you weren't always a teacher," Ella murmured quietly, running a finger down her menu. She glanced up at him curiously from beneath her lashes. "What did you do beforehand?"

He shrugged again. "Not a lot. Odd jobs here and there. Teaching was always what I wanted to do."

"Well I'm very glad you're here." As if hearing what she'd said, Miss Smith blushed darkly. "I mean... Um... I'm glad you got to live your... Um... Dream."

Burying his smile in the menu, Anthony commented on how good the garlic bread sounded and rescued his flustered colleague. She took a few grateful seconds to regroup and then spoke again.

"What do you think is going on, Anthony? Honestly?"

Raising his eyes to hers, he set the menu down and crossed his arms. "I truly don't know. This is beyond anything I.. I don't know what to believe at the moment."

She looked away to hide the fear that reared in her eyes, running a finger around the edge of her wine glass. "Do you think we can trust Haz?"

"I think," Anthony said slowly, reaching out to still her hand and clasped her cold fingers reassuringly, "that he hasn't tried to shoot us yet."