Chapter 8: Friendship's Fluorescent Fist Bump

As Zoe drew closer, Mia's eyes zeroed in on her best friend like a fashion critic at a red carpet event. Zoe's wavy blonde hair was its usual controlled chaos, looking like she'd stuck her finger in an electrical socket and decided to rock the result. Her backpack, a veritable hanging garden of embroidered flora, bounced with each step. It was probably having a lively conversation with every blade of grass it passed, knowing Zoe's power.

But it was Zoe's hands that caught Mia's attention. They were fidgeting with her backpack straps like they were trying to solve a Rubik's cube, broadcasting her nervousness louder than a neon sign in Vegas. Mia felt a pang of sympathy mixed with a dash of relief. At least she wasn't the only one feeling like her stomach had decided to audition for Cirque du Soleil.

As Zoe approached, Mia straightened her spine, trying to channel her inner superhero. Not that she had much to work with in that department. "Colorful Girl to the rescue," she thought wryly. "Armed with the power to make your enemies fabulously color-coordinated."

"Okay, Harper," Mia muttered under her breath. "Time to be the stable one. You can do this. Just don't turn her into a walking rainbow, and we're golden. Well, not literally golden. Unless she wants to be. Fuck, focus!"

Zoe reached Mia, slightly out of breath from her brisk walk. For a moment, they just stared at each other, a pair of deer caught in the headlights of impending high school doom.

"Hey, plant whisperer," Mia broke the silence, her voice a mixture of forced bravado and genuine affection. "Ready to make our grand entrance at Freak High?"

Zoe's face broke into a grin that was equal parts relief and terror. "As ready as I'll ever be, Skittles," she replied, using the nickname she'd given Mia after a particularly colorful sneeze incident. "Think they'll let me bring a ficus as my emotional support plant?"

Mia snorted, feeling some of the tension ease from her shoulders. "Only if I get to bring a box of crayons as mine. You know, in case of color emergencies."

They moved in for a hug, performing the careful dance they'd perfected over years of friendship. Zoe's arms went over, Mia's went under, minimizing skin contact while maximizing bestie comfort. It was like a game of Twister, but with higher stakes and less falling on your ass. Usually.

"God, I'm glad you're here," Mia mumbled into Zoe's shoulder, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability. "I was starting to think I'd have to face this madhouse alone."

Zoe squeezed her tighter. "As if I'd let you have all the fun without me. Besides, someone's gotta be there to water me if I start wilting under the pressure."

They pulled apart, both giggling at the absurdity of their situation. Two girls with the most random, useless superpowers in the history of ever, about to walk into a school full of other extraordinarily ordinary teens. It was like the setup for a bad joke, and they were the punchline.

"Ready for this?" Zoe asked, her voice a cocktail of excitement and nerves, shaken not stirred.

Mia responded with a sardonic grin that she hoped masked the butterflies doing the macarena in her stomach. "As ready as I'll ever be to join Freak High. Think they'll have a class on 'How Not to Accidentally Redecorate the Entire School 101'?"

"Right after 'Advanced Photosynthesis for the Conversationally Inclined,'" Zoe shot back, falling into step beside Mia.

As they started walking towards their new destiny, Mia felt a surge of gratitude for her best friend. Sure, they were about to dive headfirst into a pool of teenage superhero weirdness, but at least they were diving together. And really, was there any better way to face the unknown than with your partner in chaos by your side?

"Hey, Zo?" Mia said, nudging her friend with an elbow.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really fucking glad you're here."

Zoe grinned, linking her arm through Mia's in a careful, well-practiced move. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Skittles. Now, let's go show Evergreen Academy what extraordinarily ordinary really looks like."