Katelyn liked to believe she was nonjudgmental and unassuming, but who was she kidding. Of corse she judged others, that was what the word was based on, judging others. So naturally, she was put off by the girl with short buzzed hair. Her gothic makeup gave her a sharp expression, and her patched jacket left a punk impression that put Katelyn off.

She hadn’t hesitated to not only avoid the girl, but talk about her. She never said things that she felt were untrue, of course. She wasn’t a liar. But the girl looked like a stoner, and she only outcast herself, always distant in class. Katelyn didn’t even know what her voice sounded like, she had only heard her laugh from a distance with some of the guys she didn’t know all too well.

Katelyn was none too surprised to see her at the party at Issac’s house that weekend when his parents were away with a cup in her hand and singing and dancing amongst the crowd. Katelyn, although, was surprised by someone else there. Her ex. They had ended horribly, of course, and from the look in his eyes, she could tell he was drunk, again. They met eyes. Next thing she knew, his lips were on hers, hands on her body. She pushed him away. Her cursed her out.

So here she was, in the bathroom, crying. The bass coming through the walls was far too loud, even though she covered her ears with her hands. She must’ve forgotten to lock the door because a girl walked in, a black leather mini backpack over one shoulder, but Katelyn didn’t catch her face. The girl gasped and shut the door, approaching Katelyn. She kneeled maybe a foot away.

“Hey, whats wrong darling? You’ll be okay, just take some deep breaths.”

Katelyn nodded and followed instruction, listening to the girl’s voice as she counted gently, but didn’t look up from the floor. Katelyn had only been panicking, not having an anxiety attack, but she still had needed the assistance.

“Th-thank you.”

“No problem sweetie. Here, drink some water.”

Katelyn took the water bottle she was offered and looked up. She was caught so off guard she almost dropped the water. She recognized that hair and that makeup and that jacket.

“It’s you.” She whispered.

“Yes? Who else would I be? Abraham Lincoln?”

“Im sorry.” Katelyn whispered as she brought the water to her lips, though she drank none.

“For what honey?”

“I think.” She gulped. “I think I was wrong about you. I mean, I just, I thought you were scary. And mean. And a bad person.”

She laughed resonantly.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I get that all the time. My name is Munira.”

“Katelyn.”

“Well, Katelyn, how about we get out of here, hm? I know a great park we can go to.”

Katelyn smiled at Munira and nodded.