Ethan had to give it to Agatha when it comes to glaring. Her look of daggers were nowhere intimidating to the boy, and it comes off as something ugly. The look on her face was so unpleasant that it was IMPOSSIBLE to miss. The blond kid, bored by this exchange of looks, stared back at the nutso witch, crossing his arms on the table, DEDUCING Hapgood. Slowly, a grin formed on the boy’s lips as he realized something. Agatha has been pompously announcing how proper of a lady she is, when in fact, she really isn’t. One, she fights with boys just because they’re annoying—using physical force by the way, and two, she’s uber rude. What KIND of lady is THAT?

Ethan tilted his head to the side, as another theory formed inside his head. What if the hair-flipping was some sort of defence mechanism? What if…she uses it as a confidence booster? Does that mean she’s insecure? About what? Ethan sat straighter on his seat, eyes fixed on Agatha, the grin on his face getting bigger. Bitter Agatha IS funny. Ethan’s thumb was on his lips, as a snort came out of his mouth, then waved off Agatha. Yeah, yeah. You’re not important Hapgood.

Then came…what was her name again? The girl whom he almost stepped on back at the Moving Staircases? Golden? Goldilocks? Goldie? As his brain raced for the information he needed, he eyed her…and her badge. Oh so she’s a prefect too! Ethan didn’t say anything, but gave her an acknowledging nod and a grin. Was she going to sit or…?