The first time she notices her, they are both on the floor after crashing into each other. It's also the first time in Taylor's high school life when she's the one who spills her drink on someone else. To a normal person, it would be cause for embarrassment and perhaps even guilt, but for the socially excluded teenager, it's a cause for terror, because she knows, just knows, that the other student will take revenge for the accident tenfold.

So it's with understandable hesitation that she opens her eyes to see the person who, in all likelihood, will soon become one of her tormentors, if she's not among them already.

What greets her is the sight of an Asian girl with jet black hair, and eyes so dark, they almost match the color of her hair. Blank, blank eyes.

A shiver crawls up Taylor's spine.

"I'm so sorry." She scrambles to her feet, and offers the other student a hand, hoping, in spite of knowing better, that she may yet salvage the situation. Somehow. "I wasn't looking, d-do you need towels or-"
She stops, noticing that the girl is now just staring at her outstretched hand, as if contemplating what to do with it. Shit, she's probably already planning how to get back at her. Out from the frying pan and into the fire... she was just making sure she's not being followed and now there's a new-

The other teen grabs her hand.

"It's fine." She says without a trace of annoyance present in her voice at the situation she's found herself in. Without much trace of anything at all, really, besides maybe curiosity. A peculiar look crosses the other student's face, and she flashes a smile Taylor finds not at all encouraging. It's not devious, not a smirk nor a smile that would in any way indicate ill intent. It's just... just. She can't quite find words to describe what is it that she finds so unnerving about it. Maybe it's the fact that its owner doesn't even seem to have noticed the juice staining her modest, though still nice clothes.

Taylor withdraws her hand once they're both up, after realizing the other girl doesn't seem inclined to do so. She keeps rubbing at her chest instead, a frown creasing her eyebrows.

"Uh... do you want help with that?" Taylor motions to the soaked clothes, not sure if it's wise to offer help, what with her school situation. But it'll be worse if she doesn't offer, won't not?

"It's no trouble." The student answers without ever looking down at her dress, a note of distress creeping into her voice for some reason. "Excuse me, I have to get going." She grabs her bag from the ground, and quickly leaves without saying another word, seeming almost in a hurry, as much as a person not outright running can be - leaving behind a bewildered Taylor.

That... was different.

She shakes her head, and picks up the half-empty bottle, leaving the hallway before her bullies can find her.

Other than her encounter with the strange girl, her day passes without any drama, which is just how she likes it. Any excitement at school is usually of the kind that leaves her with bruises, ruined schoolwork or dirty clothing. The usual jeers and dirty looks she receives on daily basis have stopped affecting her long ago. All in day's work.

The bus ride home is uneventful as well, though she can't shake a feeling that it shouldn't be, she can't say why. Instinct perhaps, one she's developed after suffering so many months of bullying.

A shudder shakes her whole body when she enters her home that day.

I'm so not sorry for this.