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Priscilla extended her hand to complete the shake with Sand, though there was no real strength behind it, her hand almost limp in the girl’s hand. “I’m Priscilla. Robert’s [i]girlfriend[/i],” she replied, her intense glare not faltering for even a moment.

Sand thought she could just about hear the thoughts behind the stare. [i]And then this bitch over here, Sandy or whatever her name is, admitted to bringing Robbie, the bestest boyfriend a girl could ever have, muffins. Muffins! Homewrecker thinks she can take my man away from me? We'll see about that.[/i]

What also showed no signs of wavering was Robert’s obliviousness to the hostility in front of him. “I’m glad you two are getting along so well. Anyway, I was just introducing her to everyone else on the team so we’ll be off to go find Grane and—Trad! Hey there, buddy!” the boy said, almost getting out of his classmate’s hair if not for the untimely arrival of their team’s respective tank. “Yeah, we were just looking for you actually. Have you met Priscilla yet?”

“Not formally,” Trad said, holding his hand out to the pink haired girl. “It’s good to meet you. Are you sure everything’s alright?” he asked glancing between Robert and Sand. Robert’s tone seemed to suggest everything was fine, but the two girls still didn’t look at ease. 

While Priscilla accepted Trad’s greeting with much less glaring and a much more firm handshake, Robert answered for everyone. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” 

His back was turned toward Sand and Allen now, so he did not notice the mischievous glint in the man’s eye as he commented “There’s Sand’s gay friend again.” Completely shameless, and likely that was fine by him. He was not the one who had to live with the trained monster killers.

Trad blinked. “What.”

Robert blinked in confusion as well as he turned back to Allen, tilting his head. “What’s gay mean?” he asked.

Allen’s eyes blazed with the same realization Sand had had not too long ago. He’d struck gold. “Cheerful, kid. It means cheerful,” he offered amiably enough. 

“Oh… so because I’m happy right now… I’m gay?” he asked, putting two and two together and getting the conclusion the man was hoping for.

Trad had no words. Not only had Allen’s comment caught him off guard, but as he turned to correct him, Robert asked what gay meant. How. Just, how did he not know? At this point he had two options: explain the meaning of gay Allen meant and completely embarrass Robert for his statement, or roll with what would be the most hilarious thing ever. “Well… He’s not wrong.”

Seeing what was going on and being much more knowledgeable about the world than her boyfriend, Priscilla would attempt to correct Robert and tell him the more commonly used meaning of the word. “Robbie, no. It means-”

“No, son,” Allen said with uncharacteristic solemnity. “You’re not. It’s a way of life.”

“Sooooo… you're saying that I need to be gay more often than just the here and now. Like I need to be gay twenty-four seven. All the time,” the innocently naive boy stated.

Trad had to turn away at this point. Putting his fist over his mouth he tried to hold back the laughter that was fighting to come out. Sure this would probably come back to bite him for not saying anything to clear his name, but this was a golden opportunity that was worth it. He just didn’t know how soon that would be.

“I’m a new transfer. Trad’s been in Robert’s team for longer.” Trad almost didn’t hear it when Sand spoke up, such was the effort it took him not to laugh at Robert’s expense, but he did, and it occurred to him that her amiable tone sounded awfully fake.

“He’s the one who gets along best with Robert in the team.” He turned to look at her, suddenly wary. She was addressing Priscilla, but glanced at him at that moment such that he could see the nasty gleam in the eye of someone who was about to take a fall but wanted someone else go down with them. “Why, he just about carted him to the infirmary himself! Was the first to visit too. A very loyal man, right there.”

In many respects, the look Trad gave her was identical to the one she herself had given Allen only moments ago. Allen, for his part, was still trying to contain his own shaking. 

In the space of a second, Priscilla’s expression had went from confused ([i]what is she talking about?[/i]), to disbelieving ([i]no way, he got together with me didn’t he?[/i]), and finally settled on a comically concerned frown ([i]but what if while I was gone…[/i]).

As for Robert, he made like a lemming and ran for the cliff. “That’s right. I was pretty banged up after all of the explosions, the swarms of Grimm, and being thrown off the cliff. I don't think I would have made it had Trad and Sand not rushed to get me into bed.”

“Robert, when you were in bed, you didn’t happen to have your clothes off did you?” Priscilla asked, thinking that this question would clear things up and help her figure out what they might have done.

Thinking back to how the doctors and nurses had undressed him to apply the various bandages to his wounds, Robert nodded his head with a smile. “Of course. Isn’t that normal?”

Priscilla smiled and nodded. “Of course it’s—Bwuh!?”

Allen, who had largely steadied himself by then, seemed more baffled than amused at that. “He’s got to be doing that on purpose!” he blurted out.

Sand shook her head. From this last blunder she quickly realized that her teasing might result in unintended casualties. Good thing Priscilla had been stunned into silence by Robert’s nonchalance, or she might not had had time to cut in.

“The doctors had to undress him to treat him​,” she said, voice taut and harsher than she had wanted. “The boy’s dense, not cruel. Trust him a little for crying out loud.”

“What else could I have meant by that?” Robert asked, feeling left out.

“You—” Priscilla didn’t offer an answer, giving Sand an unhappy look instead. “I—” she started again, but the words died in her throat. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced away as if trying to gather her thoughts. A moment later, she turned back to the oblivious Robert. “Robbie… can we talk? Alone.”

The boy shrugged, not understanding why she wanted to make the conversation private all of a sudden, but seeing no harm in it either. “Sure. Why not?” he responded, following her away from the athletic center so they wouldn’t need to worry about anyone eavesdropping.

Sand watched them go. She had begun tracing a finger over the palm of her right hand again. Whatever amusement she had derived from the show had soured at the end. “How did that one ever make team leader?” she asked incredulously.

“Maybe they gave him too much credit and thought him a born actor,” Allen said.

“To be fair, he was appointed over a different group.” Trad responded watching the couple walk away. “Their situation might have called for a leader like him. Or maybe that's just my blind loyalty and love for him talking,” he added sarcastically​ turning to Sand with an annoyed glare.

“Must be,” she agreed absentmindedly.

Further complaints were drowned out by Allen’s sudden guffaw.