--

"Any way I can help?" Chaeyoung asks, picking up the dropped oven mitt. Nayeon has the other oven mitt, and she waves cheerfully at Chaeyoung from her spot on the stairs. She's holding her phone in her other hand, pointing it at Sana and Jihyo as Sana washes off the mess on her face. Chaeyoung doesn't even want to think how it got to this state.

Mina appears, hair in a ponytail and looking extremely domestic as she searches for a socket to plug the electric mixer into. "Could you sift two cups of flour? Sana was supposed to do it, but she got all of it on her face."

"Not an accident," Dahyun, who's beating the eggs, grumbles. Chaeyoung didn't even know muffin recipes called for eggs to be beaten. She agrees, grabbing the flour and sifting out two cups as Mina asks, and they're an efficient machine for a while, with Tzuyu copying out recipes so that everyone stays on task. (Something that is totally Momo's job, but Momo delegates the butter and sugar mixing to herself, so that's that.) She may or may not lick the spoon once or twice, but that's the perks of the job, she supposes.

-

"These look pretty good," Nayeon says, tying up the last of the packages. Since none of the seniors were useful enough to bake, they were convinced (read: Mina gave them a look) to help package the muffins instead. It's a relaxing job, and Nayeon and Sana even sit across the room from each other so they don't get distracted. Like a well-oiled machine, even. "How much are we pricing them at? Three thousand per pack?"

"These are priceless," Momo declares, eating a deformed muffin that Tzuyu had deemed 'so f*cked up that it's okay if you eat it'. "Good job, maknaes. All five of you."

Dahyun finger-guns Momo, seeming to enjoy being called that. The others, however, do not take so kindly to that, and Momo pretends to cower underneath the heat of Tzuyu's stare and cry for mercy.

"You're so lame, Momo-unnie," Tzuyu shakes her head, sounding wise beyond her years. Momo reaches over to ruffle her hair affectionately, and Tzuyu tilts her head to hide her smile.

In the corner of the room, Sana announces, "There's flour in my br*."

No response.

"Nayeonnie," Sana repeats, "There's flour in my bra."

Nayeon blinks, before her eyes widen. "Oh. Oh. Okay. You can come over and wash it off later."

Sana grins, and even Mina joins the rest in making gagging noises.

-

"Beautiful," Sana sighs drowsily, hanging off Nayeon's bed as Nayeon comes out of the washroom in nothing more than a sports br* and shorts. Nayeon's hair is still wet, and she smells like grape-scented shampoo when she walks past Sana to get to her study desk, and it makes Sana that much drowsier. "Nayeonnie," Sana whines, "Come here."

"Busy, baby," Nayeon replies, flicking through her binder. There's a stack of undone calculus homework that Nayeon had carelessly stuck in there, and she has a vivid flashback to her teacher telling her that she would get her off the council if it meant passing calculus. She shudders.

Sana props her head up with her hands, kicking her legs out impatiently. She sinks a little more into the mattress, and she sighs happily, because Nayeon's bed is really comfortable and Sana doesn't want to leave. But she knows when she isn't wanted, and she doesn't want to bother Nayeon. They used to have a problem with telling each other when they needed alone time, and Sana's glad that they're over it. "Should I go?"

Nayeon hums, picking up a pen and writing her name. It's a start. "You can stay, but I'm not going to be done for a long while. I'll Skype you later?"

Sana perks up. Their Skype sessions have always teetered the line between friendly and risque, and she's willing to take that chance. What can she say? She's hormonal.

"I'll see myself out," Sana hops off.

"Love you!" Nayeon calls out behind her, because she does.

-

"Hey," Mina greets as Momo enters the backroom, wrapping her apron around her as she does so. She has no idea why they have to wear the apron when they rarely get to go out in front and make the drinks, anyway. "You didn't come yesterday. Yongsun was asking where you were." Yongsun is their manager who is often too busy with school to even come down, who pays their barista extra to mark her as present, so Mina's not too sure why she even bothered asking where Momo was yesterday. Momo hates her.

"Busy," Momo says briefly, before wrapping Mina in an affectionate hug. "Sorry I didn't get to talk to you much during the council meeting. How's things?"

"Council or life?"

Momo takes a checklist off the wall, beginning to tick off the shipments that arrived this morning. "Start anywhere, little buddy."

"Okay," Mina nods, "Well, I think I have a platonic crush on our council president."

"Platonic crush," Momo says calmly.

"Yes, a platonic crush." The younger girl adjusts her glasses on the bridge of her nose, "You know, like when you're not crushing on someone in the romantic sense, but in a friendship sort of way. Jihyo is interesting. I want to be friends with her."

"A platonic crush," Momo shakes her head, laughing at the completely serious, slightly puzzled look on Mina's face, "You kids have new words for everything nowadays."

-

Sana ends up going for a run around the neighborhood, going home to change into a getup not unlike Nayeon's before she starts off at a steady pace. It's not often that she gets to do this - Nayeon absolutely hates exercise and will do anything to avoid it, which usually leads to Sana bribing her to lead an active lifestyle - and Sana likes it, likes the evening sun beating down on her face as she jogs through the neighborhood.

Her muscles feel well-stretched instead of tired, and she's relieved that she hasn't lost all her fitness. Competition season is coming up, and Sana tells herself that she's got to be in tip-top shape. No more, no less. She even mimes the actions of batting as she runs past the school, and would probably do sliding drills if the space permitted it.

She squints into the evening sun, seeing a familiar figure in front of her. They're moving at a much faster pace than Sana is, and so she puts in a little more energy into her movements, hoping that it's who she thinks she is.

"Good training session?" Sana huffs as she catches up with Tzuyu. The sprinter looks startled but slows down enough for Sana to keep pace. (Sana is offended - she's the captain of the softball team, and she thought Tzuyu would know that, at least. She's really got to promote herself more.) "What are you doing outside school on a Sunday, kid?"

"Same as you," Tzuyu deadpans, "Training. School's closed on Sundays."

They jog in silence for a mile or so before Sana starts huffing, and then they stop for water. Sana acts like she wasn't about to collapse, but a wily smile from Tzuyu shows that she sees throught it. Tzuyu is cool, for a sophomore. She doesn't pretend to know things that she doesn't, or wear ugly hypebeast clothing, which is more than Sana can say for herself when she was in tenth grade. Tzuyu has this dignified air about her, and Sana finds herself watching jealously as Tzuyu downs a Pocari Sweat.

"You're pushing yourself pretty hard," she notes as Tzuyu does warm-down stretches.

The younger girl shrugs. "I have to."

"How come? Reputation?" Sana's more than aware of Tzuyu's star reputation, and also the fact that she single-handedly carries the track and cross country to regional victory. Tzuyu seems the type who would want to keep up that sort of reputation, whether it may be for her ego or for posterity. "Didn't peg you for the shallow type, Chou Tzuyu."

Tzuyu turns and gives her a withering look that makes Sana regret that she spoke. "No. I need the scholarships."

"Oh." Sana is from a well-to-do family, a trust fund kid if you will, but Tzuyu doesn't need to know that. "Sorry." It's awkward, the wealth disconnect between people. Sana's well aware that some kids in the school can't afford the clothes they wear, that a street from where she lives is abject poverty.

"I'm going to go for another round," Tzuyu says, "See you around, unnie."

-

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