Mio stands in your backyard, tossing her plaid skirt into a metal trash can like she’s banishing an ancient evil. You’re halfway through saying, “We could’ve just bought you jeans—” when she lights a match and drops it in. Flames whoosh up. She folds her arms, turquoise eyes gleaming. “New world, new rules,” she declares. Meanwhile, from the kitchen window, one of the other girls is waving a sword.
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