*

Over the next few days, Mia had become obsessed with the camera. She took pictures of Robyn baking, action shots of Estelle throwing popcorn in outrage at a twist in one of her soaps, a handful of times she had found me napping, and a particularly nice one of when Alexis had fallen asleep on my lap in the lounge room while I was reading comics.

I had started collecting a small pile of loose photographs she had left around the house, eventually compiling a nice little heap of them I held together with a paper clip.

I started leafing through them as I searched for her, smirking at some of the Bonnie/Mia selfies that reoccurred.

As I descended the stairs, I saw Amia sitting on the bottom step, staring at the ground in deep thought as she tossed a tennis ball between her hands. "What's happening?" I asked, plonking next to her as I neatened up the photographs. She was dressed in a cutesy sports outfit; deep pink skirt, white knee-high socks, a white tennis sports s.h.i.+rt and a matching white brimmed hat. On the ground a few meters away was a black framed tennis racket. I looked out the nearest window, noticing the twilight, "A little late for tennis, isn't it?"

"It wasn't an hour ago when we were supposed to get picked up…" Amia mumbled, throwing the ball across the room against the wall; it bounced back to her feet. "My friend bailed on me fifteen minutes ago," she stated, plucking the ball off the ground.

I frowned, "Why?"

"Just some girl crud," she answered pegging the ball back at the wall; it returned with greater power.

"Girl crud?" I tried not to laugh.

"Amada was supposed to come with me," she added, catching the ball, "When they found out earlier, they said they weren't comfortable with him coming."

"Why?"

"People have started suspecting Amada isn't a girl," Amia informed, "And… no one is exactly comfortable with that." She sighed, pressing her hands against her face and running her fingers through her hair. "Amada has been friends with my friends since we got here, but that was when they all thought he was my sister. With these stupid rumours going around, none were willing to blatantly just come out and ask me about him, and none were comfortable with Amada being a cross-dresser, because he's been in the girls' shower rooms and stuff."

She threw the ball, her aim misguided this time as it impacted a steel vase and knocked it over, the vibrating sound so loud it bounced off my skin. The ball tumbled weakly into the corner of the front room, but Amia didn't make an effort to get it.

I bit the inside of my cheek, placing the photos on the step beside me and shuffling closer. She rubbed at the inside of her eye as she added, "They didn't say it directly to me, and I honestly don't expect them to, but I've heard them talk about him. Heard them laugh at him, say horrible things about him, mock him and I've just…" she shook her head, "I've been saying nothing. I don't know… I don't know what to say to them, what I can say to him. I mean, what do I say to that?"

My cheek started to ache from how tightly I bit down on it, but I didn't utter a word.

Amia growled, picking up the racket and rolling it between her fingers. "I wouldn't have cared if they bailed on me for a reason," she stood up, gripping the racket tightly, "But if they're going to lie to me about why maybe they shouldn't post pictures of their tennis session online. Bit of a giveaway…" She did some tricks with the racket, tossing it in the air and catching it. Everything about her tensed up, her jaw to her arms to her shoulders, causing her usual slumped posture to slouch even further.

"Do you want advice or someone to vent at?" I tried, leaning forwards on my knee.

"There isn't much advice you can give me," she mumbled, shuffling over to the tennis ball and picking it up with the help of the racket. "There's no-" Amia paused, trying to figure out the right words, "-way for this to not be weird. But like everything else in our lives, our family, my friends, it always has to be about-" Her tensed expression suddenly relaxed, as if she didn't like what she was about to say. She sighed, "I'm gonna go to bed. Night."

I offered a quick smile. "Night, kid." She nudged me with her foot on the way past as she disappeared up the stairs. I stayed at the bottom step until I the faint sound of a door open and close.

I wondered what the correct way to think about this was. It had occurred to me that if Amada stopped advertising himself as a girl, people might react negatively to it, but I hadn't considered how much it would affect Amia as well. It was strange seeing her appear so conflicted between her brother and what they had managed to make over the last few months.

I could taste blood. I was surprised as I loosened the tension on my cheek, it started to ache.

I rose from the stairwell and started for the kitchen in search of Mia. I noticed it was darker when I walked down the hallway, and almost pitch black when I stood in the kitchen doorway. I could barely see the outlines of the countertop and the dining table from the starlight coming through the windows. "Anyone in here?" I chimed, feeling around blindly for the light switch.

Before I could find it, I heard the patter of footsteps run up to me, sending an instinctive jolt of panic rus.h.i.+ng through me, and was blinded by a bright white light. I yelled in surprise and stumbled back, my shoulder clipping the doorframe and spinning me off balance. I fell to my knees in the hallway, photos scattered from me as one hand pressed against my eyes. I gasped in pain as the sting caused a temporary light-burn in my eyes.

My heartbeat made my skin throb, the nerves on the edge of my fingertips tingling painfully, as my chest started to ache involuntarily.

In my clouded moment of fright, that man's threat came to mind, the kidnapper from earlier last term. Had he broken into the house? Was this an attack? Was Mia safe?

Muscle memory had me reach out for a small table by the doorway, a small gla.s.s vase on display fitting in my hand, as I got to my feet, turned to the darkness and raised the jar ready to strike the intruder. In another bout of blindness, the dining room light flooded the room and enabled me to see for a moment.

Mia gasped in surprise by my stance as she dropped her camera, taking a few steps back from me. I fell with the camera, leaning heavily on the door frame as the heated tingling turned to cold waves of adrenaline. The camera made a hollow sound, something cracked upon impact, or maybe it was the vase when I let it slip from my fingers and topple over.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to calm down, sick to my stomach as I waited for the panic attack to subside.

The pins and needles in my arm intensified when Mia nudged me, silently asking me if I was okay.

I wanted to swear at her, scold her for scaring me like that, remind her that only a few months ago someone threatened the dorm with abduction. But when I looked at her, while frighteningly expressionless, her eyes portrayed some sense of worry as she kneeled to the ground beside me, reaching her hands out to touch me but retracting whenever she got close.

I had startled her too.

"I'm fine…" I wheezed, waving away her hand, "You just really scared me is all."

While I sat on the floor, waiting for my heartbeat to calm, Mia aided the camera, examining it like one would a Rubix-Cube. Likely scanning the film camera for the crack sound it made.

I managed to steady my breathing and my heart, but I didn't trust myself to get to my feet. I sat upright and looked to Mia, "What're you doing taking pictures in the dark?" I asked.

Mia blinked at my question, answering by raising it to her eye and taking my picture, the same white light flas.h.i.+ng me, this time not in an incapacitating way. I rubbed my eyes as the whirr of the camera spat out the square picture, and Mia started airing it. "You were checking the flash?" I guessed, blinking away the spot in my eyelids.

Mia didn't clarify, offering only a yawn as she waited for the photo to form. I dropped my arm, my hands brus.h.i.+ng against the pictures I had dropped when she scared me. "Umm, these are yours," I informed, grabbing a small handful of them and pus.h.i.+ng the others towards her, "I don't know if you're collecting them, but here." I could feel a headache forming behind my eyes as I rubbed them, I heard Mia yawn again. I caught a glimpse at the clock; 8:00pm. "You're tired already?" I asked.

Mia shrugged, widening her eyes as she tried to suppress another yawn. I sighed, gathering up the photos into a small pile and managing to get to my feet. I leant on the wall to maintain balance and held a hand out to her, "Come on. It's bedtime."

Mia considered my hand a moment before taking it, holding the camera under her arm. As we made our way to the stairway, I said, "How about you go get ready for bed, and when you're ready I'll come up and read something to you. Sound like a plan?"

Mia smiled and nodded, taking the stack of pictures from me to continue upstairs.

I was weirdly happy that Mia let me read bedtime stories to her. Whenever my sisters and I were under the same roof, especially the youngest one, we would tell stories to each other way past their bedtime, and I would read them fairy-tales until they fell asleep. It was a bit different with Mia, as her taste in books wasn't so much princesses and fairies, but rather Shakespeare, Celtic folktales, and paranormal mysteries. Strange sentiments for bedtime stories, but there had been many times where once she had fallen asleep I would keep reading the books in my room out of intrigue.

"You're taking my older sibling duties," someone announced.

I looked to the hallway and saw Bonnie emerging from her room. She was already dressed for bed with a grey nightgown, as she approached I noticed Fritz in her lap, sound asleep. "You're more than welcome to go up the stairs and read to her yourself," I countered with a smile. Ever since I had entered the house, I had no clue how Bonnie got up the stairs by herself. Ava had told me about a secret elevator somewhere, but I couldn't find it and couldn't tell if she was joking with me.

Bonnie stuck her tongue out, "There needs to be some mystery in my life."

We shared a small chuckle. "I'm just getting a drink," Bonnie informed, "I heard a crash before. Did something happen?"

I shook my head, "No, Mia and I just scared each other, and she dropped that camera she's been carrying around." I looked in the direction of the kitchen, "Will you need a hand or anything?" I asked.

She smiled, "No, I'll be fine. Just take care of my sister." There was a saltiness to her words, but barely. That grin she was making was just unnatural enough to seem forced as she said goodnight and rolled past me.

*

Mia had the right idea going to bed early, as it turned out. I woke up tired and spent most of the day exhausted.

I sat in cla.s.s and zoned out more times than usual, once tempted to close my eyes and sleep, only to be awoken when I was called upon to answer a question. My lack of attention was the centre of comedy for my first two periods.

When it threatened to happen again in the third period, I asked to go to the bathroom to splash my face with water.

The water was a blistering cold against my face, jarring me awake for a fraction of a moment as I looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was cold to the touch when I exited the bathroom, absently using it to cool my hands as I pressed my palms against my cheeks.

I was surprised when I turned the corner to see Mia, squatting by one of the maintenance worker storage rooms. Her ear was pressed against a cup which was pressed against the door as if she was listening for something. Soon after, she was maneuvering around the door, bracing her hands against it as she stood up straight and tucked some hair behind her ear. Mia seemed to hesitate with whatever she was about to do, rocking on her heels in a way I knew she did when she was nervous.

The camera hung from her neck, resting against her stomach as her fingers fiddled with some k.n.o.bs and switches. I watched her sigh, her whole body visibly relaxing as she grabbed the door handle, swung the door open and snapped a photo of whatever was inside the closet. The flash was bright even in the lit hallway as she jumped away from the door and slammed it closed, immediately sprinting in the opposite direction and around the corner.

Taking a hint, I rushed back to the hall I came from and peered around the corner, curious as to what, or who, Mia had taken a photo of.

The door opened again, that girl from the other day, Rachel I believe, emerged from the closet, everything about her appearance impeccable, but her expression angered as she glared down the hallway, likely in search of Mia. At first, I didn't understand what there was to take a picture of, until a guy I recognised from my year emerged from the same closet. Unlike Rachel, he was a bit more disorganised, his s.h.i.+rt not b.u.t.toned properly, tie hanging from his neck and his hair untidied in a way that suggested someone else's hand.

It was all the features of an interrupted make-out session.

Rachel's words were indistinct, but she said something to the guy, who had started to fix up his appearance, before they parted ways, Rachel going the same way as Mia and the guy, having hidden his horrendous b.u.t.ton work under his jacket, marched towards me.

I was trying to suppress a laugh as I ducked back around the corner, trying to compose myself by the time he almost ran into me. "What're you doing outside of cla.s.s?" he asked in his designated Hall Monitor authority voice.

"Could ask you the same thing," I countered holding up the bathroom ticket the teachers handed out, "Let me ask you, Walden, does the Head of the Year Eleven School Council have to give himself detention for a bad uniform job?" I gestured to my own uniform and tie, which I knew was immaculate since Ava had tied it for me.

Walden looked down at himself, obviously thinking his jacket covered everything, but up close, half his s.h.i.+rt was untucked, his tie was awkwardly hanging loose, and I could see that his belt was undone. At the mention of his uniform, he tried to counter with something, but a blush formed, and he stuttered his words. Eventually, smartly, opting to just walk past me.

When Walden went out of earshot, I allowed myself to snicker at what just happened, momentarily pondering if lewd activities were a suspend-able offence for this prestigious school. As I walked back down the hallway, my smile slowly dropped as I considered what just happened.

Oh G.o.d, I mused, stopping in my tracks, Why did Mia take a photo of that?

*

Later that day, I saw a small Mia walking across the courtyard holding a large rolled up piece of paperboard. I was sitting next to Alexis having lunch at one of the tables. She sensed my sudden distraction, "What's up?" she asked.

"Mia's walking around with a rolled up poster," I described, her walking gaining the attention of others students, some even interested enough to follow her.

"That can't be good," Alexis stated, fitting the last of her grapes in her mouth. "Is there something on the poster?"

"I don't know, I can't see it," I answered, getting up from the table. "I'm gonna go make sure she isn't doing something stupid."

"This is Mia we're talking about," Alexis said.

I nodded, "Yeah. What could she possibly do?"

Alexis snorted, "Mia's smarter than all of us, but has the emotional maturity of an eleven-year-old. What she could possibly do could cripple us all. Be worried."

I sighed, "I'll be right back."

Alexis waved me away as she took something from my lunchbox. I rolled my eyes, and half jogged, half walked to follow Mia. By the time I caught up, she had made it inside one of the main hubs, standing on a step ladder to hang her poster from one of the students-led notice boards.

Other kids had started gathering around Mia as she struggled to hang the first corner of her posture. She braced it with her fingers before producing a stapler and stabbing it into the cork. When it fastened, she repeated it with the other three corners until the whole picture could be seen.

A large purple posture was covered in a collage of Rachel in several parts of the school kissing or being kissed by different guys in different places, written in large red letters in the centre was 'HYPOCRITE.' As I scanned the photos, I got worried that there would be images of Rachel being partially undressed, but everyone was dressed in all the pictures on the poster.

As people started to realise what the poster was about they started laughing, some pulling out their phones to take pictures of it, but there was a lot of snickering and low whispers. Mia hopped down from the step and took a step back to look at her work, hands on hips, the camera still in hand. I got to the front of the crowd and grabbed Mia's arm, "Mia, what the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

The laughter started to get louder, more students coming to the board to see what the commotion was about.

Mia started pulling against me, her feet slipping from under her with how hard she was trying to run away from me. My grip tightened but transferred from her arm to the back of her s.h.i.+rt. I tugged her back, making her face me, "Mia, what did you do?" I repeated.

Mia's eyes started to turn gla.s.sy, I could see that sense of panic rising in her otherwise mild-mannered expression, as she stood straight as a board in front of me, slowly becoming petrified. I couldn't tell if she could even hear me.

But she heard something, her eyes ripping away from me to scan the crowd. Mia whacked me in the nose, not a painful experience, but it stunned me, and I stumbled on my backside. When I opened my eyes, Mia had run off, leaving behind the camera. I picked it up and got to my feet, scanning the crowd for Mia, but instead, I found Rachel shoving her way to the front to see what had been said about her.

She stared wide-eyed at the posture, in a matter of seconds her breathing becoming laboured as her phone slipped from her hand and clattered on the ground. In a bout of anger, she squealed, grabbing fistfuls of the posture and tearing it off the wall in chunks. Those watching started laughing at her reaction, some shouting rude comments that earned a chuckle or two, but many pulled out their phones and started taking videos and photos. With each tear, Rachel began to crying, a mixture of photo and poster paper confetti at her feet, as she looked to the crowd and demanded to know who had done this.

Before anyone could incriminate Mia, she locked eyes with me and saw me holding the camera. "You…" she hissed stomping over to me, her eyes a bright red and her speech tainted by shrills and broken sentences, as she slapped the camera from my hands, causing it to shatter on impact with the floor, and started punching my chest. I backed away, not wanting to cop a beating for something I hadn't done, but her hits were weak with each she delivered as her state of distraught took over. She stumbled when she tried to follow me and fell into my arms in a fit of tears.

I slowly guided her to the floor, where she clutched onto me, still thinking this was my doing, but between sobs was unable to voice her hatred. Teachers suddenly appeared, shooing away the crowd and demanding me to tell them what happened.

I was too stunned to answer, as even I was confused about how I ended up simultaneously getting blamed for this and consoling the apparent victim.