“How cliché are we,” the girl with the spiky hair commented. “Philosophizing in a coffee shop.”

One of her fellow thinkers, a tall boy with glasses, just smiled and stirred his frappe. The other girl, a boisterous chick, was hastily flipping through a magazine, apparently in search of proof of her ideal.

“I can’t find it!” she sighed, exasperated. “Either way, I’m right.”

Spiky Hair rolled her eyes.

“It’s a good theory… in theory,” the tall boy was saying, “but your logic is flawed fundamentally. You’re wrong.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Two against one,” Spiky Hair announced, smirking. “We’ve got this.”