[The kind where random people who I don't know - have seen around but do not know - are looking at me way too intently. They're not checking me out, I pentagoned for a check on a control girl who's about as pretty as me. They are looking for me specifically, they are paying lots of attention, and I don't know exactly why but I don't like it.]

Bella fetches her items. She puts her hair up in a style she has previously rejected as falling apart too easily: that's the point, now. She pockets her compact mirror. She goes out again.