Fifth Floor Hallway

In every instance of this universe, there has been a single focused spot where a certain group of students has liked to loiter about. This remains unchanged: one of the third cosmic constants concerning this group. The second is yet unknown, but the third law is that one or more of these students must die.

As grim as that sounds, that will not occur for many years still. As of now, they are still just a group of very careless boys of 12 and 13. One sits in a window, buried in a rather large, coverless novel. The tallest leans against the wall, while the shortest, a cagelike structure around his jaw, sits with his legs splayed before him sighing up at the ceiling over his current score in Arithmancy.

"Angel!"

The high pitched voice of Serenity Rosensteel echoed around the hallways, as she rushed up to greet him.
"Hi! I've looked for you everywhere. It's so nice to see you after so long, how are you, what are you reading, I missed you, did you get me a birthday gift, you didn't call, you really didn't do anything, I was expecting something in the mail, but, I suppose if you forgot it that's okay, but I'm sure it just got lost, right?" She asked, all in quick succession. It seemed that she temporarily didn't need any air.

Angel gently placed a finger over her mouth midway through her tirade. He'd finally mastered holding mid-sized books open with one hand. "Rosensteel," he greeted her with some indifference.

"Mmm!" Serenity said- or attempted to say. A smile spread across her face, and she started bouncing gently on the balls of her feet.

She was practically bursting with excitement, but wouldn't dare speak when Angel so clearly didn't want her to.

The tall one bent down slightly, examining Serenity's profile. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Old neighbor," Angel answered, resuming fully his book.

Serenity bit her lip. She was truly going to spill over if he carried on calling her an "old neighbor". It sounded like she was old and.. She couldn't hold it in anymore, she had to say something--

"Angel and I are very good friends. I'm Serenity Rosensteel, nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out towards him.
"Are you friends with Angel?"

He looked down at Serenity -- the top of her head. "Uh, hi," he said, sneering slightly. The boy on the floor took a very brief look at her then went back to his sulking. "I'm Charlie," said the tall one, accepting the handshake. "Charlie Musschendael."

Angel blinked, once, at their touch. No one noticed. He turned the page.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Serenity said politely, before sitting down on the floor next to Angel and staring up at him. It was clear she intended to stay there for a while.

Still, she knew she wouldn't get much of a response from Angel. "So, can I call you Chuck?"

Charlie shrugged. "Uh, I guess. People already do. Sure." One let out a long groan, indicating how done he was at that very moment.

"Alrighty then, Chuck-- Is he alright?" Serenity asked, regarding One with the kindest look she could possibly muster, which was still quite disdainful.

"He looks like he needs a facial. What's wrong with him?"

"He certainly does," said Chuck, snickering under his words. One glowered.

"That's horrid," Angel scolded, the corners of his lips betraying his good humor.

Serenity giggled, and looked over at Angel, to make sure he wasn't too angry.
"I didn't mean to be rude, um.." She plopped down on the floor. She had decided she really didn't care about the name of the weirdo with the awful luck in.. Well, appearance.
"Whatever. So, what do you guys do when you hang out?"

"What do you usually do, Miss Rosensteel?" Angel asked. He kept his eyes on the book. Chuck kinda shrugged.

"Umm.." Serenity blinked a bit in surprise. What did she usually do?
"Well, I like swimming, quite a lot. Beaches in general. Ooh, I play beach volleyball in the summertime. Shopping, makeup.. Potions is rather nice so far, although my potions partner leaves some things to be desired." She smiled at Angel, putting her head on one of her hands. The blinders were on, it was as if Chuck and One weren't even there.
"I also like painting my nails biweekly. It's rude to answer a question with a question, you know. I asked first."