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Rosalie didn't have much time to slide into class and take a seat between Lennie and Joanna, but she did have time to jump in during the most ridiculous conversation in which Jamie-Lee and Joanna were fighting over what dress Rosalie would wear to Homecoming.

"You literally don't have to use the same pattern. Just go with a red dress," Joanna said.

"No. I already fucking bought the fabric," Jamie snapped.

"Red is an Adams color, though," Lennie pitched in, only to be addressed by the annoyance of both Joanna and Jamie-Lee.

"So you want me to change our color scheme?" Jamie said, all high-and-mighty.

"Uh, yeah. That dick Birchmeir took you out of the game!" Lennie cried. The bell rang, but the teacher had yet to arrive, and so the argument continued, much to the amusement of the entire class.

"You might be the most high-maintenance guy at this school, you know that?" Jamie said.

"Might be?" Joanna repeated, offended. The people around them laughed, and Dylan was already crying, brushing a finger under his eye to rid it of tears of pride.

"I am not changing my color scheme," Jamie-Lee insisted, nose in the air. "Right, Rosalie?"

"What," she deadpanned, entirely lost. "I don't really care what colors we go with. I like the slacks."

"Thank you." Jamie clasped onto her shoulder. "That means a lot to me."

Joanna flicked her agenda up between them, nudging Jamie-Lee's hand off Rosalie's shoulder. "Hands off, Berry, before I pound your face in," she threatened.

Jamie puffed out his cheeks at Joanna just as the teacher waltzed in and called the class to attention. Through it all, though, Rosalie was caught amidst the turmoil of Jamie-Lee and Joanna teasing one another in mock-jesting. The look of death in Joanna's eyes said it wasn't a joke in her book. When the teacher turned her back on them to write something on the board, Jamie-Lee lunged forward and tried to snatch a doodle off of Joanna's notebook, but she flung her hand up and smacked him in the face. Rosalie bristled, looking feverishly at the teacher in fear of being caught in the middle of this.

On the way to study hall, Joanna and Jamie-Lee turned into the equivalent of two feral cats. It started with Jamie getting all feisty (as he always seems to do), and Joanna was just reciprocating the feistiness by giving him a taste of his own medicine. Rosalie trailed behind them, rubbing her fingers to her temples, as Lennie watched on from afar with that ever-stoic, calculating expression of his.

"I sometimes forget what it's like living amongst a bunch of hormonal teenagers," he commented from beside Rosalie.

"You're one to talk," she grumbled. "I'm still mad at you."

"What, for stopping the horde of hormonal teenagers?" he said, and Rosalie wished she had something to stab him with. The best she had was a pencil, but if she was going to go for a clean kill, it wouldn't be through lead poisoning.

"Even after you backed off, it's not like I suddenly skipped into a romantic relationship," she confessed with a swing of her arms. She gestured to Jamie and Joanna. "Jamie taking me to Homecoming isn't exactly Next Stop: Romanceville."

They didn't quite make it to the lunch room before Joanna was fending Jamie off and escaping down a separate corridor. Jamie nearly chased after her, but Lennie caught him by the back of his collared shirt. "Watch it. No running with that ankle of yours," Lennie warned, dragging Jamie back into line. He slung an arm around Jamie's shoulders as the kid slumped forward, pouting.

"What has gotten into you guys? Suddenly you're all muscling off to each other," Rosalie said. "It's really weird, if I'm being honest."

"It's not weird—it's normal," Jamie insisted, crossing his arms. He stuck his nose in the air, but the fact that Lennie had an arm around him made it difficult for Jamie to achieve maximum pretentiousness. He shed the facade fast, and perked up with an eager smile. "Hey! If my mom's gonna help with your dress, you should stop by my house this weekend!"

"What—"

"No," Lennie said, only to wither at Rosalie's threatening glare. "I mean—Your house isn't exactly... approachable. And your siblings are a bit chaotic."

"Siblings?" Rosalie asked, and it was the wrong thing to say.

Jamie went on and on about his family from that point onwards, and when Rosalie tried to escape to Ray and Juliana, Jamie-Lee followed after her, which led to Lennie coming by to mediate and try to drag Jamie away. The rest of the soccer guys in the cafeteria joined them at the table when they saw Jamie and Lennie there. Suffice to say that none of them got anything done until Jamie completed the narrative of his five siblings—him being the middle child of them all.

"—But since my older sister moved back from Idaho, we've been babysitting while she and her husband work. That was mostly over the summer, though. I think they have an actual babysitter now down the street," he was saying, and it seemed all the soccer guys had heard the tale plenty of times before. Juliana and Ray were interested only because Rosalie knew for a fact that they both adored children.

"If they need a babysitter, I'm available!" Juliana said, only to be flicked by Ray. "Ouch!"

"You have soccer practice, dummy," Ray said.

"I mean on the weekends. That'd be fun," she reiterated with a roll of her eyes.

"What if Juliana babysits while your mom tailors Rosalie," Lennie suggested.

Juliana clasped her hands beneath her chin, starry-eyed and silently begging Jamie to comply. Jamie shrugged. "I'll ask my sister."

"Yes!" she shrieked, fists in the air.

This, however, would only get more complicated as soccer practice came and went with casual mentions of Juliana and Rosalie being invited to the Berry residence. They played a passing game in which the entire team circled up, and it brought Rosalie and Joanna across from each other down the diameter line. The look on her face said it all, and Rosalie really shouldn't have been as surprised as she was when Saturday rolled around, and her mother's car rolled up beside Joanna's yellow vespa on the curb outside the Berry's iron fencing.

Rosalie stared out the passenger window, annoyed. She leant back in her seat with a huff and turned to her mother, who raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?" she asked, and the amusement in her voice had Rosalie throwing her arms up. "Isn't that your friend's moped?"

"Joanna," Rosalie corrected, and then furrowed her brows at the windshield. What was she doing? "I don't remember Jamie inviting her. They were making a fuss at school the past two days. It's kind of exhausting."

"Well, you did say you were nervous about spending the day with Jamie and his mother," she offered, and Rosalie cursed her internally. Of course her mother was right. Joanna was a buffer. Really, Rosalie should have been glad for this extra distraction. Truthfully, she didn't want to spend the afternoon alone with Jamie and his mother. That just sounded... too intimate.

"You good?" her mother asked, and she nodded with a confident smile.

"Yeah. You're right. Joanna being here is probably a good thing. I've... never been alone with a guy before. And his mother," she confessed with a shudder. She reached for the doorhandle as her mother laughed. "Alright. I'll text you later."

"Okay. Have fun! Tell Juliana and Joanna I say hello!" she called after Rosalie as she turned back around and shut the passenger door.

Just as her mother pulled back onto the street, Rosalie froze mid-wave at the sight of a blue Maserati, freshly painted since the Adams High attack. She dropped her arm in horror, muttering, "Oh no..." before turning to the Berry estate gates.

The Berrys lived in on a plot of pristine green grass that looked far too fake to still be alive at the end of September. Rosalie walked along the paved driveway leading up to the circle drive in front of the stoop, the middle of which was dotted with trimmed shrubbery and lined with brick. Rosalie tried not to get too impressed, but her attempts couldn't save her from the disappointment of seeing the inside of the house the instant she pressed the doorbell.

It seemed Joanna was waiting for her, acting like the estate was all hers and no one else's.

"Welcome to the Spencer residence," she said, and discretely kicked a foot out behind the door. It resulted in a broken, "Oof!" from her victim.

Rosalie raised an eyebrow at her, and then at the rest of the foyer. She slowly crossed the threshold, jaw dropping further by the second.

The Berry residence was in a complete disarray. Aside from the shoes cluttering the entryway (except for the path Joanna scraped out to open the door), the foyer was a collage of coats and papers, and an empty mannequin by the archway to the dining hall. The dining room table was drenched in mounds of papers and books—not a spec of its wooden surface to be seen.

"Whoa," was all Rosalie could manage that wouldn't seem too offensive.

Jamie fell out from behind the door, collapsing over the shoes. "Welcome," he croaked, clutching at his stomach.

Joanna stomped her foot on Jamie's leg, above the brace around his ankle. "AYE! Yai yai!" Jamie cried.

"Is that Rosalie?!" Juliana's voice sounded through the house, followed by a stampede of footsteps heading in their direction. They started at the top of the stairs where Juliana peaked out from around the corner, and peered over a cloth-strewn railing. "Rosalie! Hey!"

"Hey Rosalie," a green-haired kid she had never seen said, blushing at the top of the stairs. He looked like he was in elementary school, and Jamie was eager to get them out of there.

"Alright! Enough of that," he said, laughing nervously. He skidded in front of the scene, arms out as if he could block off his teen sister from seeing Rosalie.

His sister was likely just barely in middle school. She smirked at Jamie and flicked him on the back of the head. He clasped a hand over the spot, rubbing it as she spun around him and offered a hand to Rosalie.

"Leonard was right—you are cute," she said, and Joanna snorted, slapping a hand on her knee. "And by cute, I mean, like, preppy in an uppity way."

"Uh, thanks? I guess," Rosalie laughed.

"Uppity is right," Joanna said, and shared a high five with Jamie's little sister. "Dude, your siblings are rad."

"Really? Thanks!" his sister said, beaming at them as Rosalie went red. Did... she say Lennie once called Rosalie cute? Or did she mishear that? "I like to rat out my brother and all his buddies at every chance I get."

"Ha-ha, very funny. I'm sure Len would love to tear apart your boyband posters. What was the one you got signed again...?" Jamie said, feigning a ponderous look as his sister gasped in horror. She instantly ran to the stairs, only to spin back around to peg him with a murderous glare.

"I'll be locking my door so that doesn't happen," she said, running up the stairs. "You can quote me on that!" she cried, speeding past Juliana. Juliana squeaked, pushed up against the railing. She spun back around and chased after the girl, Jamie's little brother on her heels.

As soon as she was gone, Joanna cackled harder. "Leonard?! Ba-HA!"

An annoyed groan sounded from past the foyer, and soon, Lennie walked out with a glass of what looked like pure sewage. "Ugh, Jamie," he whined. "Did you seriously tell Joanna my name?"

"Nah, that was my sister," Jamie said, hands raised in surrender.

"Yeah, and apparently you've also told his sister that you think Rosalie's cute," Joanna teased, arms clasped over her stomach. She burst into laughter at the sight of Lennie's entire face blushing red.

"That—That was a long time ago!" Lennie cried, knuckles turning white around the glass in his hand. "Like, freshmen year, maybe!"

Joanna spun around him like a lion prowling her prey, grinning devilishly. She was the sort of lioness to play with her food before going in for the kill, but Rosalie noticed Joanna's enthusiasm would shred Lennie to pieces before she was done with him. "Freshmen year. Why, that was only two years ago. When did I punch you again? Oh, right, two years prior to that."

"Quit teasing him," Rosalie whined, embarrassed that Lennie couldn't even meet her eyes anymore. "Also, who invited you two anyways?"

"Oh, right," Jamie said, leading the way through the kitchen, which was in no better state than the rest of the house. In fact, it was probably worse given the grime on the countertops. "Lennie invited himself, and Joanna just showed up ten minutes before you, and... twenty minutes... after Ray asked for my address..." He paused to think on it, flitting a skeptical look in Joanna's direction.

Joanna went on smiling, visibly worrying Lennie as she did so. He drank from his protein smoothie glass as Rosalie trailed behind him, grimacing at the state of the kitchen sink. He hung back to point it out. "I know. Miss Berry hires a cleaning lady once a year."

"Once a year?!" Rosalie hissed under her breath, looking back at the horrific state of the kitchen before ducking past the archway and through the tunnel-like corridor across the house.

"Yeah. I sometimes stay the weekend and clean up a little. But she's very... particular about anything to do with papers..." he added, just as they passed another stack of files on a decorative table. They looked at one another knowingly before continuing on after Jamie and Joanna.

At the end of the hall raised what appeared to be a sunroom of sorts. Instead of cabana porch furniture, however, there was a slew of mannequins in varying levels of clothing or lack thereof. Rosalie fell in love with the room at once, disinterested in the messiness here as opposed to the other rooms. She'd never seen a place like this—covered in sheafs of fabrics and pin cushions. Sketches lined one of the walls.

"Sami would love it here," she gasped, clutching her hands under her chin as she examined all the drawings. She swooned a little and caught herself before she could stagger too far out of touch from reality.

The clouds cast dappled sunlight through the windows overhead, and in a patch of sunlight stood Miss Berry. She was at a cabinet full of supplies, and snapped out a flexible ruler that she rolled onto her finger. When she turned around, Rosalie was struck by how similar she and Jamie-Lee looked. All caramel skin and dark hair, and wide, childlike eyes.

Jamie tugged Rosalie by the sleeve of her sweater over to his mother. "Mom, this is Rosalie. Rosalie, meet my mother."

"You can just call me Miss Berry," she said with a smile, shaking Rosalie's hand. She had a firm, professional shake that made it feel like Rosalie's fingers were being crushed. "Jamie, bring the stool this way."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a salute before hurrying off.

She plucked her phone out of her pocket and filtered through a series of texts before holding up a photo. The conversation was titled, "Favorite Son", and prior to the photo Jamie sent, he accompanied it with, "THIS IS THE ONE. CAN YOU DO IT." to which she responded, "Of course I can. I can do anything."

"Is this the dress you were thinking of?" she asked, but truthfully, Rosalie didn't remember saying yes or no to any of the dresses Jamie showed her.

"Um... Sure? Yeah, I like that one," she said.

"What is it? Let me see," Joanna demanded, reaching up onto the tips of her toes to see Miss Berry's phone. She raised an impressed eyebrow, glanced Rosalie up and down, and then nodded in approval. Rosalie pursed her lips to keep from demanding that Joanna cut it out, but she was suddenly consumed by the realization of how short Joanna was.

Miss Berry, even in her panda slippers, stood far taller than Rosalie. Jamie's height must have come from his father, considering Miss Berry looked to be the exact proportions of a Victoria Secrets model. Rosalie knew Joanna was short just from how frequently she saw Joanna and Dylan together, but she always just thought Dylan Cox was an anomaly.

He had competition now.

"Len, my sketchbook, if you will," Miss Berry said, snapping her fingers in the direction of a massive oak wood table suitable for a party of twenty. It was covered in supplies and rolls of fabrics, upon which sat a massive sketchbook of unreasonable size. He hefted it up and passed it to her, holding one cover as she flipped through the pages. She laid out an open sketch of Rosalie's dress and prompted Rosalie up onto the stool so that she could measure.

As Rosalie stood on the stool, Joanna leapt up onto the wood table and perched a foot on the edge. Lennie got distracted by Jamie sprawling out on the table full of fabrics, swinging his arms like he was making a snow angel. Joanna perched her chin on her knee, and it took a moment for Rosalie to realize that they were even staring at one another.

"What," Rosalie said with a scoff, looking away.

"Nothing," Joanna said. "Just wondering how Sami's doing."

Rosalie glanced over the table at Lennie and Jamie before saying soto voce, "He's... alright. Isaiah's coming over tonight and the three of us are having a movie night. Isaiah seems really broken up about the whole thing."

Miss Berry tugged the measuring tape around Rosalie's waist, nudging her arms up. She straightened her back as Miss Berry jotted the measurement down on the sketchbook beside Joanna.

"I can write the measurements, ma'am," Joanna offered, reaching for the pencil.

"That'd be lovely, thank you," Miss Berry said, and went back to stretching the tape measurer beneath Rosalie's arms and under her bust. She called out the numbers, and Joanna jotted them down. "It's always nice having assistants. Jamie's an awful assistant," she said, raising her voice so Jamie could hear her.

"I'm an excellent assistant!" Jamie cried. "I play dummy for you all the time! The amount of needle pricks on my abdomen are insane! Look—It looks like I have chicken pox scars!"

Jamie hiked up his shirt, and it was all Rosalie could do to keep from facepalming. Joanna kept her eyes forward, not daring to look over her shoulder at his shenanigans. "I'm too gay for this," she said.