Amy felt something crack. A pain shot through her head, like a chisel had been held to the bridge of her nose and a hammer came slamming down, reverberating through her whole body. It's well known that animals have two primary reactions to immediate physical danger. Fight, or flight. Amy had never flown in her life. Dazed as she was, her body took a life of its own. Her fist swung out wildly, hitting her opponent in the jaw, knocking her sideways. As Elizabeth staggered from the hit, a subtle smile pulled her lips.

 A crowd had gathered around them now, reveling in the chaotic interruption to an otherwise dull afternoon. Distressed cries and jeering shouts rang through the field, joined by frantic footsteps of students running to get teachers, and rustling paper as friends took bets. 

Amy grabbed onto one of Elizabeth's twin braids, and yanked her head downwards. Elizabeth shot forward like a bull, sending the both of them flying to the floor. Amy's head hit the grass, and she tasted copper. She writhed and struggled as Elizabeth pinned her arms to the ground, nails digging into her skin. Amy stopped, eyes wide with realization, just long enough to confuse the other girl. A chunky sneaker went flying into Elizabeth's chest, and she tumbled back, coughing and struggling to stand. Amy forced herself up, and wiped her white sleeve across her bloody nose. 

The chaos around them had erupted into a roar, demanding an ending, a sense of closure to such an unexpected display. Adult voices joined the mob, trying to move through the crowd, yelling for the girls to stop. Too many sounds. Both of them were drowning. A ringing stung in their heads, like an arrow shot through the ear. Blood roared in waves, muting everything but the ring to a whisper. But the whisper was still somehow so loud. As though they were many miles away, being screamed at from across a river. The ringing pitched higher. Higher. Elizabeth was reminded of the sound of a heart monitor stalling out. Amy was more familiar with the sensation, and moved to lower herself before gravity would do it for her. Eyes blurry, minds buzzing, hands bruised, both girls fell flat on their backs in the grass, breathing heavily. They hardly noticed when the teachers came in and started half-dragging their bodies to the nurse's office.

Amy was a 16 year old student who attended Mr. Lee’s English class. She was a stubborn girl, with dark eyes and a square jaw. Her demeanor was similar to a porcupine displaying its quills. Mess with me. I dare you. Her orange hair was shorn down to the scalp. She never wore the jacket demanded by the school uniform, and by this point Mr. Lee had given up on convincing her to do so. A dress shirt, half-knotted tie, simple black watch, knee-length gray pleated skirt, and chunky white running sneakers made her usual attire, much to the chagrin of the more rule-oriented staff. Mr. Lee suspected that she did some of it specifically to agitate the teachers. He knew for a fact that she had a contentious relationship with Mrs. Bennet, who always bemoaned Amy’s mismatched socks. At the moment she was slumped in a chair in the nurse's office, half asleep, holding a tissue to her bleeding nose. Her backpack was a crumpled heap under her seat. He did not envy the effort it would take to clean her grass stains.

Elizabeth was a different matter, and not just because he knew her better. She also attended Mr. Lee’s class, and though they shared a year, they saw him in different periods. Elizabeth was a shining jewel of the education system. Intelligent, quick-witted, always ready with an answer. Her arm was practically stuck in the air, but there was never a sense of arrogance about her. She simply knew what she was doing, nothing more, nothing less. Her uniform was always immaculate. It was the same as Amy’s, but her tie was a neat victoria knot, she wore shiny brown loafers, and she was never without her school jacket. Her dark hair was kept in two braids on either side, and all this painted the picture of a model student. That had been changed by the events of the day of course. One braid was undone, bunching awkwardly as it hadn’t fully escaped the grasp of the hair tie. Her face was purple with bruises, hands covered in scratches, with just a little bit of blood underneath some of her fingernails. Her skirt was also horribly stained, and her knees had been skinned through it by sheer force. Despite her current state, her backpack was neatly hung across the back of her chair. She, too, was practically asleep.

Mr. Lee was genuinely baffled. He wasn’t under the impression that these girls knew each other, or even knew people who knew each other. He could believe Amy was in a fight, she was stubborn as a donkey and deeply lacking in any sense of self preservation- but this was something new from Elizabeth. It was clear that Elizabeth had attacked just as hard and wild as Amy had. Did Amy bring something new out of her, through whatever quarrel they had, or was this something Elizabeth always possessed? As he pondered, harsh footsteps and muffled shouts sounded through the door, at which point Mr. Lee stood up. He brushed off his pants, adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath, and prepared to talk to the angry parents that were no doubt pacing the halls. He left through the door, quickly checking back in on the girls, and then closing it behind him

The door clicked. Muffled voices sounded through the corridor, playing confusion and anger like a neverending marching band from hell.  Amy slowly lifted her eyelids, grimacing at the sound, and glanced over to Elizabeth.

“You alright?” Amy asked, voice at a low whisper.

“Nope,” Elizabeth grinned “You?”

“Nope.” Amy returned the grin. The two girls sat up, slowly, and eventually clasped hands, sinking back into their chairs in casual comfort.

“Any word from Gracie yet?” Elizabeth asked.

“Not yet. Better be soon though, I didn’t break my nose for nothing.”

“Give her some credit, she’s smart enough to have gotten it done. And give me some credit too, I worked hard to break your nose!”

Amy snorted, and her unoccupied hand clutched her face.

 “Ow! Oh god, don’t make me laugh, ohhh god oh god.”

Elizabeth giggled, trying to cover her mouth so as to not inflict any more humor on her friend. She failed, and the two of them sat, trying desperately to hold still and quiet as the laughter ran through their aching bodies.

“We probably didn’t have to go so hard, huh?” Amy finally asked once the shocked glee had mostly left their systems.

Elizabeth shrugged, “Probably not.” She readjusted herself in her seat.

“But it did have to be realistic. We wouldn’t have gotten as big an audience if it was clearly staged. Besides, it was fun! And it's worth it to help a friend.”

Amy gave a theatrical sigh.

“Hurt a friend to help a friend. The insidious duality of Elizabeth Cooper.”

Elizabeth laughed, “Shut up-”

At that moment, the two of them heard a ping from Amy’s backpack. She immediately scrambled around to find it, picking it up and rifling through the pockets. It had to be in here, they just heard it, why couldn’t she find it? Elizabeth cleared her throat.

“Ahem.”

“What?”

Elizabeth reached into the smallest pocket, and opened the mesh pouch attached to its wall, pulling out the phone.

“Oh. Thanks.”
“You always put it in the same place, I don’t know why you never remember.”
Amy gave a dismissal grunt and wave of her hand, but the lighthearted nature of the gesture was clear. Looking at the phone, her eyes lit up.

“She made it! She made it!”

“Wait, really? How is she? How is her Grandpa?” Elizabeth asked, bursting with excitement.
“He’s still sick, but Gracie is finally able to see him. She says thank you for everything, and that she’ll make it up to us,” Amy laughed (ignoring the instinctual wince that came after), and relief floated through her voice, clean and clear.

“Think she’ll pay for my medical bills to get my nose fixed?”

Elizabeth grinned, “Definitely not. You’re gonna have a busted nose forever.”
“Hey that might be cool!” Amy protested, “Battle scars, maybe it’ll intimidate people.”

“I think it’ll just make breathing through your nose weird.”

Amy slumped back into her seat, still holding Elizabeth’s hand. The two of them let out a deep sigh of relief. The quiet washed over them. Wind moved the branches of trees softly against the window. The ever-present ticking of the clock was familiar and steady. The seats were soft and plush, and their eyelids were so heavy. What a wonderful thing it would be to drift away in this moment, proud and satisfied, even through the aches and pains.

“Our parents are going to be so pissed.”
“Oh yeah.”