TJ POV

Amber has been in a very weird mood lately. Everyone in the house has asked about it, but all anyone can collect is that something happened between her and Andi and she's convinced she ruined their friendship.

"Hey..." I knock lightly on her bedroom door, which has been firmly closed since... whatever happened with Andi, "According to Chloe, Bex and Bowie invited a bunch of us to go with their family to the farmer's market open music thing happening tonight, would you be up to come with?"

That gets Amber to sit up at least, she considers the offer for a long time before sighing and seeming to give up on the argument she was having with herself, "Well, I've lost my mind but I'll come."

"Great! I'm sure crazy-pants you is just delightful, Andi will love her."

"Only I can call me insane!"

"Isn't that a sibling line?"

"I dunno."

I shrug, "Great, you're coming, get dressed, it starts at six."

______

"Be safe! Stay close to each other! Don't get kidnapped!" My dad shouts after us as Amber and I start up the road to Andi's, Buffy, Cyrus and Jonah are already there, and we might be meeting Marty on the way to the park, I'm not sure.

"I can see you trying too hard," I tease my step-sister when I'm sure my dad couldn't hear us. She's done her hair in an unnecessarily fancy crown braid, and her face is shining with too much makeup for the farmer's market. She's wearing a short, showy lavender sundress that couldn't possibly be for practical reasons and a pair of sandals with a slight heel.

Her eyebrows arch up in disbelief, "Oh yeah? And that super tight shirt is for comfort?"'

"Okay... maybe not."

_________

Cyrus POV

Jonah decided he'd perform one of his more recent, less girl-focused songs tonight. Every song Jonah has ever shared with me is consistently better than the last, and this one is wonderful background noise as TJ and I walk through the vibrant, crowded farmer's market, in search of smoothie which Buffy earlier called 'a gift from God'. I, although I have participated in all Jewish costumes excitedly and am perfectly okay with people believing anything that gives them comfort, am indifferent to the base concept of an all-powerful, angelic, often whitewashed man in the sky who apparently created the vast universe and can effortlessly bypass all laws of the biological world we know to be true. I do, however, pay enough attention at synagogue (A/N: I'm not Jewish, so I don't know if that's how you'd say it, I'm Catholic (or my family is) and we say 'in church' so since a synagogue in the Jewish equivalent, I assumed it was grammatically the same too.) to be excited about food that is deemed by one of my most cynical friends to be a gift from whatever creation spirit may or may exist. Speaking of the creative  spirit, if I weren't raised to be uncomfortable saying his name in vain I may say 'God, TJ looks good in that shirt.'

To say I hadn't noticed 'till now how built TJ is would be a lie, but the tight, dark shirt and, him silhouetted against the drooping sun, surrounding the handsome young man in an aura that makes him look sort of heavenly, as contrasted with the sharp shadows it's glow sends over the road, which is shiny from a calm rain that fell this morning, is quite the tablo. Okay, shut up about how cute TJ is at dusk, he'd probably be creeped out by that.

"What are you thinking about right now?" TJ asks inconveniently.

I decide it's best to go with, "The merits of the phrase 'a gift from God,'"

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