The Only Thing Worse Than Me Is You by Lily Anderson

into the immaculately cut grass. I flipped open the front of my bag and pulled out my sunglasses and the Buffy comic. Scanning pages, I finally found the point where I’d left off the night before and started reading.
    â€œYou haven’t finished it yet?”
    Ben West had moved out of a line of other Mess kids and was leaning against the planter a few feet away from me. His polo was wrinkled and he hadn’t brushed his hair. I glared at him for a second and then turned my attention back to the comic.
    â€œNo spoilers,” I said.
    â€œAh,” he said, staring at the groups of incoming classmates. “So, you haven’t reached the point where Xander dies?”
    â€œDamn it, West.” The glossy pages gave a pathetic crinkle as I closed the book.
    He laughed loudly. “Kidding. Don’t freak out.”
    â€œWhy don’t you leave me alone?” I growled at him. “There is absolutely no reason for us to ever have a conversation.”
    He gave me a sardonic look out of the corner of his eye as he reached up and twirled the end of his mustache.
    â€œI was just trying to uphold the school ordinance,” he said. “Everyone is required to try to be pleasant to you in the name of making you seem like less of a dangerous loner.”
    â€œGo to hell,” I said with a groan, stuffing the comic into my bag. “Or whatever hellish dimension you prefer.”
    â€œI’m partial to the world without shrimp. I’m allergic.”
    â€œName the episode or stop sullying my fandom,” I said. There really should have been a rule about unworthy jerks making Buffy the Vampire Slayer references. I shoved my sunglasses farther up my nose.
    â€œâ€˜Superstar.’ Season four, episode seventeen,” he said drily. “You’re extra shrewish today. Did your friends finally realize that they could do better?”
    â€œDid yours?” I asked, turning to look at him dead-on. “Why are you skulking around alone?”
    He gestured vaguely to the front gate. “Waiting for the guys.”
    â€œThen wait with your mouth shut.”
    Someone called my name and I spotted Meg bobbing toward us, her shiny black hair leaping around her cheeks. She landed in the grass faintly out of breath.
    â€œGood morning, Trix,” she said. She gave West a confused wave. “And Ben West.”
    â€œMargaret Royama,” he said, inclining his head.
    â€œYou guys aren’t going to, like, duel or something, are you?” Meg asked me, cocking her head.
    â€œI submitted the challenge years ago,” I said blandly. “But appealing to his sense of honor is useless.”
    â€œWe’re divvying up hell dimensions,” West said. “Trix is taking the world that’s nothing but shrimp.”
    â€œBut you don’t eat meat,” Meg said, blinking at me. She brightened suddenly and said, “Oh! Did you guys read the new Buffy ? Isn’t it cool when—”
    â€œNo spoilers,” I huffed, holding up a staying hand.
    â€œBeatrice is a little behind,” West said in a loud whisper. “There were some very big words in this issue.”
    â€œI have some very short words for you, West. Shut your damn mouth, for a start.” Taking in a deep breath, I turned to Meg. “I was up late starting our costumes.”
    â€œOh,” she said. “That’s okay, then.”
    â€œWhat will you be dressing up as this year?” West asked me. “Something with a mask, I hope?”
    â€œMaleficent,” I ground out.
    â€œAh.” He paused. “So, just scraping off your makeup and going in your true form.”
    â€œPerhaps you could follow suit and put on a pair of donkey ears.”
    â€œOh look,” Meg interrupted with false cheeriness. “Peter and Jack are here.”
    The Donnelly brothers were, in fact, walking toward us. Jack sped ahead of Peter, leaving his brother limping behind as he