Mischievous Function

Dear Miss Genius Idol, Unmatched...

Meanwhile, at the hotel lobby...

Clock gulped nervously and tugged at the collar of his shirt as he looked back and forth between his girlfriend and his sister who were staring each other in the eyes with irritated looks, mere feet away from each other. A twelve-year-old girl with short light aquamarine hair walked up beside him and raised an eyebrow before spotting the two.

"You know," Aquamarine whispered, "I get the feeling that these two don't like each other."

"That makes two of us," Clock muttered back. "They've never seen each other before today. I didn't really tell either about the other, either..."

The four of them stared in silence for a few more seconds, and Clock took note of how much his sister had changed ever since she had gone off to college. Instead of keeping the short and straight silver hair that he had remembered, she had grown her hair out down to the middle of her upper arm. A gray turtleneck sweater lay underneath the blue coat she had donned for the winter. She wore her skinny jeans rather high up on her waist and sported a pair of black high heels. A leather handbag with two keyrings—a small blue analog clock and a white snake—hung from her shoulder. Most notable was the pair of blue under-rim glasses sitting on her face, which was definitely new to Clock.

"Man, Anny, you like them old," Clock's sister finally said.

Fanny scoffed and shot her a frown. "Excuse you? I'm in high school just like he is."

"Doesn't mean you're her age," she replied, squinting suspiciously. "You look like you're my age. Heck, maybe even older. And Anny's only 17, so don't even think about trying anything."

"For the record, he's more forward than I am," Fanny told her. "And if I look like an idiot to you, then you'll be disappointed. Trust me, I know the law."

"This isn't just about the law." Clock's sister took a step forward and scowled. "I'm her older sister. I'm the one telling you: keep your hands off my Anny."

"I'm not your Anny," Clock complained, finally stepping closer to the two and getting between them. "And stop calling me that! I'm not...I'm not young anymore!"

Clock's sister pulled Clock closer to her with one hand, keeping her death gaze trained on Fanny. "Do whatever you want when you're 18," she told him in a low voice. "But until then, I'm not letting some child chaser ruin you on my watch."

"I'm not a child chaser!" Fanny said, raising her voice and glaring back at her angrily. "We haven't even done anything remotely close to that together!"

Clock nodded and broke from his sister's grasp, turning around to look at her. "Dot. Stop, okay?" he pleaded. "Look, I'm not stupid and I'm not defenseless. If she tries anything, I can at least put up a fight. Granted, it's Fanny, but...still. There's no Yoyle law against just dating."

"Well, there's a Dot law against 'just dating' when one's a frickin' adult and the other isn't," Dot replied. She pulled Clock back to her by his shoulder, though she didn't wrap her arm around him like she had the first time.

Then, she looked back at Fanny. "Let me be clear," she warned. "I don't care who you are or what your background is. Anny—or Analog Clock, or just Clock, or...or whatever she wants to be now—is not going anywhere with you without me. No drinks. No drugs. No driving. I don't even want to see you near her hotel room door, or vice versa. And that hoodie of yours stays on. Same with the pants. Capisce?"

"Yeah, no duh." Fanny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'm not a deadbeat, and I'm never gonna be a deadbeat. And by the way, did you know that he"—she pointed at Clock—"literally saved my life? Why would I ever want to hurt him, physically or otherwise?"