-1

You're only dancing on this earth for a short while
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now
They will vanish away like your daddy's best jeans
Denim Blue fading up to the sky
And though you want them to last forever
You know they never will
You know they never will
And the patches make the goodbye harder still

-Cat Stevens

"Okay Vi, hand me today's newspaper." Sebastian's hand reached over a dish of buttered toast and a rather pathetic glass of orange juice.

She stirred the cereal in her bowl, spoon clinking rhythmically against its sides. "Well I would, but yah know, I don't run around the house in the wee hours of the morning with a newspaper attached to my butt." The once brightly-dyed grains were now grayish blobs; the color had long since bled into the milk.

She pushed the bowl away in disgust. "I can't eat this. It looks like something Eunice whipped up."

He peered blearily at her for at her for a moment, fingers tapping on the surface of the table, and then took a generous swig of the orange juice.

"It just boggles my mind that you actually like to drink that stuff."

"Aww…what's wrong with my juice?" He cradled the glass in his arms; a gesture of protectiveness that Viola thought way too genuine.

"It's like…radioactive orange for one thing, and has no pulp for another." He stared at her blankly. "I- its just gross. That stuff is a disgrace to every orange that dreams of one day becoming juice! Might as well be chugging tang. And besides, only monkeys drink tang…Well, our ballroom dance instructor did too. But he was really, really old…and had like no teeth!" Her arms thrashed through the air.

"Whoa, calm down Vi. If it bothers you that much, I won't drin-"

Viola's mouth became a completely horizontal line, "No, I'm sorry for being so cranky. Its just I've got a lot on my mind, and its starting to get to me." She supported her chin in her hand, "yah know what I mean?"

He nodded slowly, and leaned over the table. "Mom has been pretty harsh on you lately, harping on and on about shaping you into a prim and proper lady."

Her eyes rolled as she let out a loud snort. "Yeah, have you looked in my closet?"

His eyebrow lifted incredulously. "Umm, no."

Viola's hand waved dismissively, "I guess you haven't. But trust me, there are so many frilly and gaudy dresses in there; Shirley Temple would be green with envy. It's like she sneaks into my room in the middle of the night and crams them in there. Oh my God, maybe she does!…What do yah think?"

Sebastian reached down to tie his shoe, and then rose from his seat. His face broke out into a grin as he replied, "that I'm glad that I'm not you. Anyway, seeya later…I going to shoot some hoops with the guys."

"Real sensitive."

He shrugged and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Sebastian?"

"Yeah?" He was leaning against the threshold of the door.

She flashed a sweet smile and reached under the table. "I found your newspaper." She pitched it hard at his head. It collided with a smack.

"Oww…that hurt. Jeez Vi, cut me some slack. I just don't have time to get into one of your rants about mom." He blanched at the look of hurt on her face. "Don't worry though. I'll talk to her about it. And if that doesn't work. Hmm… let's just say I'll think of something.

He gave a mock salute, scooped up the paper and left.

The tree was odd to say the least. Its bark was coming off in chunks and the farther up the tree you looked, the more dead it appeared. In fact, it hardly seemed alive at all, twisted and blackened and no leaves in sight. But she knew better. Life teemed from it. Birds nested at its top, squirrels ran up its length, and fat caterpillars inched around its base. It stood in the far corner of the Hastings's backyard; decrepit branches raised to the sky--like it was pleading, Viola thought, pleading for rain or sunshine or whatever it was that trees pleaded for.

The morning air was crisp and cool. She sat under the shade of the tree; hands tucked casually behind her head, legs stretched out rather unladylike. Viola was not usually one who savored quiet reflection. But sometimes the fancy struck her and she would inevitably find herself there among the tulips, orchids, and camellias.

She dug the heel of her sneaker deep in the soil, and rooted out a pebble that lay half-buried in the earth.

"What are you doing?"

She twisted, startled, in the direction of the voice. "Olivia… you scared the crap outta me."

Olivia was looking at the tree. She extended her hand to it and plucked off a hunk of loose bark. Then twirled it between two fingers. "Sorry about that Viola. I was just curious. After all, it's not often that someone finds you so…umm, how do I put this?"

"Quiet and not acting like a kid with a.d.d.?" Viola sounded amused, even to herself.

Olivia hunched over a bit as laughter bubbled up from deep within her chest. "Not quite what I was looking for. But yeah, it works."

"Hey! You could have at least pretended to disagree." Her expression turned thoughtful. "Not to sound rude or anything… but why are you here?

"I came to see your brother. He isn't home, is he?"

"Nope, he left maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago…Something about basketball and testosterone-driven chest beating."

Smirking a bit, Olivia sat on a large rock that was positioned a few feet from the tree. "I figured as much," she said. "Your mother let me in. I asked her if Sebastian was home. She was amusing…But not really that helpful."

Now Viola was interested. "Why? What did she say?"

"Oh, something like this…" She sat up straight, slipping one leg demurely under the other and pushing several strands of hair behind her ear. "Actually Olivia dear, I saw someone out in the backyard. I couldn't tell if it was Sebastian or Viola. Heaven knows, they look similar. And it doesn't help that she dresses in those boyish clothes, or that she has no womanly curves to speak of. Why don't you go check? Okay, buh-bye sweetie."

Viola's mouth fell open in shock. "She didn't--I mean, she wouldn't" Not even her mother would stoop that low.

Olivia clicked her tongue, hands folded neatly in her lap. "She would and she did."

"I am so embarrassed. She must be crazy, like cuckoo Looney-bin, completely off her rocker crazy." She pulled the hood closer around her head and hid her face under the shield of her hands.

"Come on." Olivia fingered the hem of her skirt, chastened. "It wasn't that bad."

Lowering her hands swiftly, Viola shot the other girl a look of blatant disbelief.

"Okay, it was pretty bad… but totally harmless and kind of funny."

"Easy for you to say. She wasn't insulting your womanhood. She just loves you." She scratched the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Viola, why can't you be more like Sebastian's girlfriend or I bet Olivia could introduce you to a handsome guy or Olivia would never have done that…I swear, any day now, she's gonna make me wear a bracelet that reads: What Would Olivia Do? "

It was quiet for a moment as Viola ripped blades of grass from the lawn and Olivia swung her legs to and fro from her place on the rock.

"Look-- its just that, wel-" She sighed. "I'm sorry"

"It's okay."

"By the way." Viola smiled, crooked and sincere. "That was a really good imitation of my mom."

Olivia ran a hand through her hair, as her eyes became unreadable. "What can I say? I learned from the best."

"So you did, so you did." Viola cocked her head slightly to the side. "I am the master of impressions. Yep, I so rock. I mea-"

"Are you doing anything with Duke today?"

"Huh? Duke? Nah… he's been forced, under pain of no soccer, to spend quality time with his dad."

"Oh…So you don't have anything planned?""

"Not really, just sittin' under this tree for a while and maybe having a nice long chat with mommy dearest." Viola clasped her hands together and fluttered her eyelashes in a cloying display of femininity.

Olivia picked uneasily at the skin that surrounded her nails. "Then let's go do something, just the two of us. It'll be like a girls day out."

Viola thought that it was strange of Olivia to invite her anywhere. She knew that the other girl felt somewhat uncomfortable around her. And who could blame her? It must have been difficult to come to terms with the harsh facts of those fateful two weeks. Fourteen days of mistaken identities, and the mayhem of teenage crushes gone awry. But it seemed that Olivia was willing to bury the past, and Viola was all too happy to pull out the shovel. Maybe now, Viola thought, just maybe, they could be friends.

Slamming a fist into the palm of her other hand, Viola said, "Yeah! Pretty ladies such as ourselves shouldn't be cooped up on a Saturday. Let's do something fun--no! Something daring--Better yet, both fun and daring!

"Actually Viola, I was just thinking of going shopping…or maybe lunch and a movie."

"Yeah, that sounds fine too." She stood up and wiped the dirt from her pants. "Shall we go?"

The movie was mediocre at best. The titular character (Braden) spent most of his time juggling between brooding and plunging headfirst into plot-holes. Not to mention that Viola hated movie theaters. She loathed everything from the cola-stickiness of the linoleum to the crushed bits of popcorn and greasy cardboard trays strewn underfoot.

Bored out of her mind, Viola turned her attention to her fellow movie-goers. A couple of rows below her, sat two small children. They wore matching shirts of a maroon color (twins she thought). A braid hung from either side of the girl's head; though unruly locks poked up from around her crown. The boy turned, thrusting his thumb towards the girl. She fidgeted discreetly and offered him her hand. A ferocious bout of thumb-wrestling ensued. Viola regarded them fondly; they reminded her so much of Sebastian and herself.

"Hey Olivia."

"Hmm?" Olivia replied without tearing her eyes from the screen.

"Let's get out of here."

"But the movie isn't over…" Her brow knitted slightly.

Viola rolled her eyes. "It isn't that great anyway. And besides, I know you're starving. Your stomach has been growling like a rabid dog since that music store in the mall."

Olivia ducked her head, embarrassed and a little resentful. "That's your fault…you made me dash around the mall with you in search of the 'perfect pair of espadrilles'."

"Yeah…Well…I found them," she said as if it resolved everything. "And if I recall correctly, I wasn't the only one who bought a pair."

"They were really cute."

"Then…" Viola's eyebrows lifted in a haughty fashion. "Stop complaining." Her lips pulled back in a enormous grin.

Olivia looked askance, gaze irrationally gloomy. "Sometimes" she said, "you're just too much , Viola Hastings." She rose from her seat, movements stiff and jerky. "…and I wonder how much more I can take."

Viola remained in her seat after the sticky clack of Olivia's shoes had faded.

Things were always like this where Olivia was concerned. They would be have fun, doing the frivolous things teenaged girls did, when on a seemingly arbitrary whim, Olivia would say something that made no sense, then either close up, or run off. This time, she had decided on a little of both.

Why couldn't they just be friends?

When she found Olivia ten minutes later, the sun was hidden behind jagged mountains and an icy wind blew. She pulled her sweater tighter around her body.

Olivia was sitting on the solitary bench , her legs pulled up to her chest. For an instant, Viola thought about leaving her there. Because really, Olivia was possibly a smidgen bipolar.

"I just don't understand you, Lennox." Viola said, brushing her hands against the rough denim of her jeans as she perched on the far end of the bench. "What have I done that was so terrible that you can't spend a couple of hours with me without bolting?"

Olivia jerked her head to stare at Viola. "Umm, how about pretending to be Sebastian, fucking with my mind, and then trying to manipulate me into dumping Duke? Do you even know how screwed up I am now?"

Viola was shocked, never had she seen Olivia this angry. "You didn't even like him!" She sputtered. Her hand shot out to clutch Olivia's wrist. "And we talked about this, all four of us. Remember? The most awkward dinner in the history of the universe! You said you were fine!" The desperation in her voice clouded the air between them. Like misery made tangible. Surely Olivia could sense it.

Olivia winced as the nails against her arm dug deep into her skin. "Yes, I told you what you wanted to hear. But the truth is I can't be your friend. It's just can't."

"What do you mean?"

"Listen to me very carefully, Viola. This is the only time we will ever talk about this." She yanked her arm from Viola's grasp and stood, shoulders stooped, as if under the pressure of a terrible burden.

"When I'm in Sebastian's room and I see you across the hall, I will wave and smile politely. Do not take this as an invitation to talk to me. When we're forced into a conversation by your clueless mother, I will stick to inane topics such as the next ridiculous social event or the sudden change in weather. Do not think that means I have changed my mind about this. When-"

"I get it Olivia! You can't stand me. You've made that perfectly clear, I just don't understand why."

She looked up at Olivia, eyes soulful and imploring. But, Olivia wouldn't even look at her. Instead, she was rubbing hot tears against the white sleeve of her blazer, leaving large blotches of mascara that were sure to stain.

"You don't have to understand… I just need you to listen to me…Please."

She looked dreadfully unhappy, standing there trembling so uncontrollably. Viola couldn't help but concede.

"Sure," she said. "People part ways all the time. Though hopefully not always in such a dramatic fashion. Cus that would kind of suck." Olivia gave a strangled laugh in response.

"I guess we should be getting home." Her words were tinged with sadness and uncertainty.

Later that night, as Viola stared up at the shadowy darkness of her bedroom ceiling she thought about the situation over and over again. Why had Olivia been so emotional and moody? That just wasn't like her. And to reject her offer of friendship, even stranger still. She was too polite for such a crude gesture. Hell, she even pretended to like that freak with the spider.

She turned to stare at her clock. The glaring numbers read five past two. It was so late and sleep would not be coming to her anytime soon.

She was hit with a thought so suddenly that her throat felt dry and she couldn't breathe.

The only thing that marked the death of their friendship were the harsh marks that blackened the sleeve of Olivia's blazer. It was then she found herself able to breathe again. She needed her breath to cry.

So yeah. Dramatic, I know. I blame it on those damn plot bunnies. They would not leave me alone until I wrote this. The very first fic I put any effort into. I would appreciate feedback, whether it be positive, negative, or neutral.