I don't own. Schneider's Bakery and Nickelodeon own everything but my original characters, the concept, and who knows, parts of Europe. This is for entertainment purposes only, and buys only my sanity.

Not an original plot, just an original story.

:}

Trina laughed, enjoying what had, of late, become far too rare an occurrence. She was hanging out with some of her oldest friends. Friends she'd known, literally, almost her entire life. Their mothers, it seemed, had been part of the same new parents organization, with their specific group gathered together by neighborhood and date of child's birth, give or take a couple of months. As a result, Trina had gone to grade school with all of these girls. She'd managed, through this organization, to maintain those friendships, built up by grade school, despite the many obstacles such relationships face. Shifting interested and loyalties. New friends. Even the simple reality that she was often in different classrooms then her mothers group friends, if not different schools. For her early, tender years, they'd been a rock she'd been able to count on always being near.

Then, as they got older, outside forces had stepped in to break them up. New jobs and opportunities scattered some of the dozen or so children across the country. Still others only moved across the sprawling metropolis called Los Angeles, making it difficult to get together as often as they once had. It was tough on the half dozen or so girls who were so young they still though of boys as a little icky.

Despite the many setbacks, however, the girl's had remained friends. When it was too difficult to get together, they called, or write, or used video chat once that option was available. That effort, to keep old friends who had changed so much they'd have trouble explaining why they'd be friends otherwise, paid off, and a handful of girls had stayed in contact. Trina was proud of that fact, as well as their open mindedness. That was because, over the years, they'd also managed to let one or two girls in, joining the almost family, becoming like sisters in their own right, even as the core of this group remained the same.

So there Trina was, in the home of Cindy Chau's, laughing and enjoying a girls night. Since her family moved to Hollywood, and she joined Hollywood Arts with all it's extra curricular work, she'd had fewer and fewer chances to be together with her girls. That never changed the fact that she loved the times she could drive out to visit, hanging with the girls who knew her the best. Girls who'd known her so long, accepted who she was, that it forced her to drop all pretenses and remember who she really was. Trina loved these times, these girls, because it was her anchor. Her ties to reality, safely away from who she had to be just to have a hope of making it in Hollywood.

Trina believed that nights like there, where they got together to enjoyed one another's company, those were almost worth the efforts of leaving Hollywood for the other parts of Los Angeles. Worth the nights away from the pressured of Hollywood that she felt hanging over her. Away from the need to be the star, always act like a star, because image shaped reality. 'It's totally worth those pressures, if it helps me to launch my performing career. My girls understand.' Trina had reminded herself, over and over and over again.

Reba, however, didn't so much understand as repeatedly remind everyone of her own burning jealously. "Performing arts schools tend to have some of the toughest curriculum available in High schools today. Man, I'm so jealous." Reba Varnado's family had put a huge amount of pressure on their kids to go to collage and get their degrees. They'd been asked to prepare, constantly working towards that goal, to the point where they already had to be thinking of what graduate school they wanted to attend. Trina had found out that, according to the Varnado parents, Hollywood Arts lit up a collage application like few schools. She just wished that Reba didn't have to remind her friends every time they got together.

"Really?" Cindy asked. Cindy was Asian, more mixed then any one nationality, do to her family having been in the U.S. since some of her ancestors helped build the railroad. Despite that heavy mixing, she identified as Chinese-American. "What do grades have to do with anything when your stuck single, boyfriendless, alone on those special holidays like Valentines day, or New Years eve? You know, those day that the world just loves to remind you you're all alone. Sigh…" Her eyes shot up, glancing around the room at her friends. "What? I need is a boy to hold me."

"The boys at Hollywood Arts can be hot." Trina offered. "Okay, A lot of them aren't what we'd call center stage material." She somehow paused before the urge to correct herself rose again. "Okay, some of them are down right homely. But the thing is, we have our hot guys."

"And which one are you dating?" Margo asked. Margo Miller had been a trouble maker from the word go. Having a twin brother, she'd found it easy to get away with stuff, often shifting the blame to him, because everyone knows young boys get into trouble. And as the ploy worked, and the poor boy took the blame, she discovered the joys in making others hurt, just a little, and getting away with it. As time went on, she shifted from indirectly harassing her brother to finding ways to get what she wanted, usually at her classmates expense. Now, years later, the blond haired girl was a bit of a schemer. She plotted, seemingly willing to turn on anyone, but was usually okay to be around if you were her friend. Otherwise, she was the classic female bully, using social pressures to bring down anyone who drew her ire. "Thats right, you're single right now. That silly Slap page of yours even confirms it." There was a twinkle in her hazel green eyes.

Trina glared at her, once again wishing she'd come to Hollywood Arts and act like a bitch. 'She wouldn't last five minutes with Tori's friends. Now them, they're cold. And Jade, she's... Well, she's been nicer to me lately. Guessing her problems with Beck have given her other some people to focus on. Thinks they're gonna take her man. Silly girl, I'm just waiting for him to see me as the wonder I am.'

"That smirk means something." Cindy said, shifting to get closer. "Spill, do you have a boyfriend? A hot prospect? Does he have a huge penis?"

"Ewe." Reba said. "Gross."

Wendy smiled. Wendy Glass was the most mature acting of their group, liking to think of herself as kind of all of their big sister, even thought she was barely a couple of hours older then the next oldest. "Cindy, Reba, we don't use language like that in this house." She scolded the girls. Her dusky features shifted into a disproving look as she tried to look authoritarian.

"My home, and my parents swear like sailors." Cindy said, smiling.

"Your dad is a sailor." Trina offered, smiling at how good it felt to be around people who really liked her. But part of the problem was that they had moved around a bit. They all lived in Los Angeles, but the city covered over 502 square miles, 44 miles long at it's longest (Along the ocean) by 29 miles wide at it's widest. They all lived in the city, closer then many, bit it was still a bit of a stretch for them to get together. Adding into the problems was that Cindy's father was a longshoremen, working out of Los Angeles harbor. His home was fairly far away from Trina, who's family had moved to the Hollywood Hills around the time she'd applied for Hollywood Arts. It was that move that made applying seem so reasonable. But it wasn't just Trina who'd moved. They'd found themselves scattered across the city, often in different neighborhoods, and sometimes it took upwards of an hour to travel from one home to another.

Yet despite those obstacles, their parents had stayed in contact, and thus the half dozen or so girls at this sleepover had stayed in touch. Yes, only four were from the original group, a couple having joined after the fact. But they were life long acquaintances, often friends, sometimes feeling even closer then family, and they loved the rare times they could get together and just enjoy. This night, they were enjoying a sleepover, and griping about what was, for most of them, a common problem.

They were single.

Even Cindy was single, having just recently broken up with her man. It had been a mutual decision, with him wanting to see other people, and her realizing that she couldn't stop him. Not with him off at collage, while she was still finishing up her last year of high school. Reba didn't have a boyfriend because, despite being above average looking, she just wasn't available. Studying took up far too much of her time, and her parents worried that having a boyfriend would distract her.

Wendy, however, had a boyfriend, something she liked to remind everyone. Trina just told herself that Jade had Beck for over three years. 'Dating doesn't make you an expert. Often, it just made you lucky enough to have found someone.'

Then there was the fact that Trina was arguably the best looking girl among this group. Yes, Cindy wasn't bad looking, and Reba could turn a head or two, but Trina was hot, and they all knew it. Even Margo, who had dated a string of boys, none of them realizing they were all placeholders until she won the next boy on her list, had to admit that Trina had the looks.

"So why don't we do something about it?" Margo asked, showing her unusual style of caring. She'd insult them, bully them a bit, then want to help them be happier a moment later. Usually, as long as it didn't cost her anything, she was quick to offer her support. Just as long as she'd already insulted them, so as to remind everyone who the head bitch was.

"You mean makeovers?" Cindy asked. Cindy was cute, and tended to be the most "Normal" of the group. Trina once joked that, if she wasn't Asian, she'd have come right out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

"I mean, we try something different." Margo said, smiling a broad, scary smile. As they waited for her to explain, she reached into her bag and pulled out a book. The cover was black, with the words "Book of Ancient Darkness" written across it in silver letters. "Like maybe we try magic."

"I don't know about this." Trina said, eyeing the book. Margo was a pretender, often into dark things for the attention it brought her, as well as the power that came from people not being sure what she was capable of. But the girl was also good at hiding it when she wanted too, letting go of the weird so she could better fit in. That's why she was a bully, one of the popular girls, and not another victim. This plan, however, stunk of arrogance and a false belief in her own ability. 'She wants us to be her guinea pigs, but for what?'

"Come on, it's just for fun." Margo tempted them. "It's like an Ouija board. You just wanna have some fun, maybe get freaked out." Her smile promised a bit of naughty fun, with little chance of consequences. "So why not?" She tempted, like a drug dealer to a new prospect. "Come on, lets crack this book and see what it has?"

Most of the girls had their misgivings, but they relented anyways, either accepting that this wasn't going to be dangerous, or that Margo gets what she wants, and woe to anyone trying to stand in her way. Trina wasn't in either group, but had little desire to rock the boat. As soon as it was obvious that no one was going to object, she threw her lot in with them, because tonight was about being one of the girls, and this kind of fun just felt like it fit.

They all gathered around as Margo opened the book, expecting something dark and mysterious. What they saw was fairly standard type on white paper. Page after page of standard type on white paper, broken up by the occasional illustration. The whole thing looked very professional, and hardly what you'd expect from a book holding the deepest, darkest secrets of the occult. "Okay, according to the index, we can find love spells in here." Margo proclaimed, turning the pages until they reached the appropriate section.

"It says only an idiot casts for a specific person." Cindy said, reading over the other girls shoulder. Feeling Margo glancing back, she amended. "Okay, it says it's foolish, and can cause a lot of damage. I kinda interpreted."

"Are we really doing this?" Wendy asked. "I mean, are we really gonna cast a spell? How do you think it'll look if..."

"Are you scared that it'll work, or that it won't?" Margo challenged. Only her sharp tone faded a moment later, and she shifted back to trying to argue her way to what she wanted. "This is just for fun. We're not hurting anyone, and it's white magics, so no one's gonna get hurt." She flashed her most disarming smile, one usually reserved for the rare occasion when she wanted to look cutesy, but not go all Bambi eyes on everyone. "Tell you what, thought. You can sit back here and pray for us. Maybe that'll help us."

"I say we vote on it." Reba said. "That way, we know who's willing to play along, and who isn't."

"Then a secret ballot." Margo agreed, almost too quickly. "Only the girls who are single get to vote, and whichever side wins, they all agree to follow that suggestion." Margo knew Wendy would insist on counting the ballots, so she was already prepared to fake the results. She'd even though of the best way to avoid having Wendy know the results were fake, using the same program to print up the ballots, so as to hide who did what, and making her counterfeits easier to hide. She'd though of almost everything. Of the group, there were four of them who were, at that moment, single. So Margo had arranged three yes's and one no, just so each girl would believe their vote was counted. That way, everyone who said no would think they were the dissenting vote. It looked on the up and up. "Here, I've even made it so no one will know how you voted based on how sloppy your writing is." She glanced at Cindy, who glared back.

Ten minutes later, Wendy sighed and announced the results. Trina, who'd voted against it, still felt that she'd agreed to go through with the ritual, simply because she'd chosen to follow the rules, and by voting, she'd agreed to follow the results. 'It's how democracy works.' She told herself. Still, in her stomach, she felt uneasy, making her wish she knew someone who knew this kind of chiz, just for advice. 'I'll bet Jade knows this stuff. Probably how she landed Beck in the first place.' A momentary smile crossed her face, eyes locked on Margo as the blond read her book. 'Then again, wouldn't put it past Robbie to be into the dark arts. Maybe Rex is his demonic familiar.' A shiver wormed it's way down her spine. 'Whoa now, that makes too much sense. Scary.' Her face broke into a small grin, as the thought brought out some feeling of humor, and a deep foreboding she'd rather not feel.

As they got ready, Trina watched as Margo looked over the formula, sending Cindy to her kitchen to see if they had all the herbs they'd need, or any of the acceptable substitutes. Birthday candles that had sat unused for years found there way to the living room, where the girls had set up for the night. Now it had become the place where they'd be setting up the ritual, sitting in a circle and doing heaven only knows what.

Before Trina knew it, everything was gathered and ready, and Margo instructed the girls in what they had to do as part of the ritual. Each girl participating had to write lists, in their own hand writing, describing what they were looking for in a lover, all without naming anyone specific.

Trina just wrote bullet points, not wanting to put too much effort into this. She wrote such things as tall, athletic, hot, with good skin and a ready smile. Then, after thinking about the possibility of getting a male Jade, she added kind, supportive, loving, and great in bed (Eventually). Trina didn't need her man too experienced, just able to figure out her body and make her skin vibrate. 'I mean, is that really too much to ask for?' As an afterthought, she added "rich", because if she was conjuring a man, he should be able to afford to give her the best.

Once the descriptions were done, it was time for the ritual. "Okay, I'm gonna tell you what to do, and your gonna do it, okay?" Margo said.

"Why don't you join in?" Wendy suggested, an evil grin overtaking her face. "Or are you that serious about your current boyfriend?" Wendy and Margo lived close enough for the older girl to be up to date on all the happenings in Margo's life.

"Really? I'm doing this for you guys..." Hazel green eyes looked around, meeting uncertain glances from her friends. "You guys, this is just… You know what? Fine!" Margo huffed, wazzed that she was being challenged at all. She quickly scrawling her list of what her ideal man would be like. "There, done. Now lets see what happens when we follow he ritual." She almost spat out, but calmed herself as she went over the instructions. "Lets see, mix the herbs and burn them while chanting, we can so do that." Her eyes caught the others. "Okay, says here to focus on the feelings you want the ideal partner to invoke in you, kinda vague, but lets do that." Margo looked the book over one more time. "You know what, it says you need a sacrifice."

"A What?" Trina asked, trying to get a look at the book.

"A sacrifice, to show the gods your serious." She made a point of covering the book, just because, as she gave her most serious look. "So, everyone, we're gonna give them blood." Her voice edged on dark and menacing.

There were a slew of protests before Margo broke down laughing. "No, you idiots, I'm not talking about finding some poor shlup's pet and sacrificing that. I'm just suggesting we personalize our lists. We get a pin, and each of us pricks her finger, say the ring finger, cause it's symbolic of what we want. Then, we put a bloody fingerprint on the bottom of our list, as a sort of signature. That should appease whatever gods are out there."

"Okay." Cindy said, feeling nervous about pricking her finger. But Wendy turned out to he the savior here, since her grandmother was diabetic. She'd mastered the talent of just enough prick to get a few drops of blood without constantly having your fingers in bandages.

However, before they could prick their fingers and "Sign" their lists, Reba brought up a point. "If the gods want us to bleed ourselves, then their not gonna be happy with us having such messy lists. I suggest we do another list, and since this time we know what we want, we work on making it as neat as we can. You know, pretty. A work of art worthy of signing."

"You realize we're just gonna burn the lists." Margo said.

"Then we finish this outside." Cindy added. Everyone agreed, more so because it was logical to take any ritual involving a lot of fire and smoke outside, but also because the girls hadn't thought through how personal they'd be making the list. Mostly, both Reba and Cindy felt they were being judged, and wanted to put their best foot forward. So everyone rewrote their lists, and then proceeded to let Wendy bleed them enough to put the finger print on the bottom, and fold the paper to maximize the burn.

As they finished, Wendy had another bright idea. As they headed outside, she addressed the other. "You have those original lists, right? Why not save em, store them, so later, we can go over what we asked for, see what happened. Kinda do it the scientific way. Think of it as a test of sorts. You save the list, someplace where it's safe, and you can find it." Her eyes locked on Cindy's, then let go as she continued. "That way, if this cocamany ritual actually worked, we could see if you got what you asked for, or just something off the rack." The others hesitated, no sure what to think about this new idea. It made sense to check one's work, so they all agreed, folding the original lists, putting them in temporary places, even as they promised to store the lists someplace safe, because Margo had warned them that the spell may take a couple of weeks, or longer, to work.

Once they were ready, with the lists being stored, they circled up and got down to business. Margo instructed them on the chants they'd use, how to do it, everything she could figure out. Next, they performed the ritual together, in unison, but each one personally focusing on the feelings they believed the right guy would inspire in them. By the time they were ready to burn the papers, asking the universe for their ideal companions, it was almost midnight, and the girls felt both exhausted and giddy. This was new territory for them, experimenting in something this different. However, the different activity, performed as a group, was also strangely entertaining. As the last of the pages burned, the girls stopped trying to concentrate on the feelings that having their perfect man in their lives would inspire in them, and watched the smoke slowly drifting into the night, dissipating into the Las Angeles smog until all they could see was the starlight.

Feeling tired, they went back inside and watched a couple of episodes of some old Dingo channel teens comedy they had laying around before going to sleep.

That night, the girls each dreamed of the man they'd hoped to conjure, each thinking about what kind of person they'd draw into their respective lives. Slowly, their thoughts shifted to others, things teenage girls approaching the end of high school think about, before sleep overtook them, and they all drifted off.

The next morning, with a secret hope some couldn't quite identify and none of them were quite willing to admit, they scattered once again across the city of angels.

:}

Yes, this story is Trina centric. Gonna spoil one thing, there will be background Jori, cause that's how I wrote this. Not gonna tell you too much, except Trina doesn't wind up with one of the Victorious characters. Other then that, your on your own.

Review, so I know if you like it, or I'm writing this for my health. See my comment about Sanity above.