Uh oh.

↓ Transcript
Panel 1: Hands still on Maida's shoulders, Nat leans in. Maida: "What the Hell are you doing? You can't touch me! This is automatic exclusion!"
Panel 2: Nat: (sneering) "Maida Martian. You fink you're so clever, innit."
Panel 3: Nat: "You're a amateur at this game. I've spent years finding all the blind spots in the school cameras and wifi network."
Panel 4: Nat: "If I don't leave a mark, it'll be the word of a fugee against a natural-born fraction." She brushes imaginary dust off of Maida's shoulder.
Panel 5: Nat: "Sooner or later, you're gonna have to learn."
Panel 6: Nat: "Fugees like you are only on Earth because some old dead bloke decided it was in our best interest. "'Part of the plan,' innit." Nat reaches into Maida's shoulder bag.
Panel 7: She pulls out Maida's poetry journal. Nat: "And some day, maybe, what's in our best interest will change."
Panel 8: Nat opens the journal and looks inside. Nat: "Poetry? Really, Maida?"