A/N: HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY EVERYONE! Okay, well, I actually got this idea while I was heading to the library and listening to When I Grow Up by Pussycat Dolls. (: Anyway, this is full on crack because, well, I'm cool like that, yeah? Yeah(: Enjoy, chicka-dees!

Disclaimed; both Fourth of July because I wasn't alive when they signed it and the characters because Lisi Harrison wrote them first(:

"Baby, can you get me the icing, please?" Massie Block asked her boyfriend, Harris Fisher. He was in the living room watching the live parade held in New York City. He stood up and walked over to the modern kitchen.

"Of course, love." He smiled and opened the fridge, getting the red, white and blue bottles of icing from the fridge. He handed them to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her. He kissed her temple and murmured, "You smell like cinnamon."

She giggled. "Duh, Harris. I've been here slaving over a hot stove while you've been sitting on your lazy butt watching hot girls twirl their batons and waving at the stupid crowd as if they're robotically programmed that way."

He smirked. "Are you jealous that you can't twirl a baton or wave at a stupid crowd? And while everyone is all the way in New York City enjoying a good parade while you're here in Westchester?" he teased.

She twirled around in his arms and slapped his shoulder. "Yes, Harris, I am. Why do you think I'm trying to hide from the truth that I can't admit?" She slid out of his arms and turned back around.

Harris raised an eyebrow. "I thought you used an oven for cookies?" he wondered aloud.

Massie sighed. "Harris, go watch your parade."

He wearily crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the love of his life, 17-year-old Massie Elliot Block. He was ecstatic when he found out that her parents would be out for three days, so he'd been living there in the past two days. It was like paradise for them, and now he couldn't understand why she was cranky. He knew that it had nothing to do with the baking because she absolutely loved baking cookies.

He sighed and saw a bowl of flour. He smiled and quietly dipped his hand in, scooped in a handful of the white rough powder and blew it at Massie's head.

She froze, her eyes closed and her jaw dropped. She turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Harris Fisher, did you just throw flour at me?"

With a wide grin, he said, "Technically, I blew it at you, but sure, throwing can be the same thing, I guess."

Her eyes widened and she closed her mouth, her lips tightening together. She grabbed the flour bowl and threw it at him, the flour landing on him and around him, the bowl clattering loudly behind him. He opened his closed eyes and spit out the flour that was able to squeeze into his mouth.

He grabbed the nearest thing near him, the carton of eggs, and threw one at Massie's stomach.

She gasped and grabbed the whipped cream off of the counter and he laughed, stepping closer to her. He was only two feet away when she sprayed the cream at his face. He wiped it off and opened the fridge, grabbing the other bottle of Reddi-Whip.

"Don't you dare try that, Fisher," she growled.

He chuckled and sprayed her all over. She screamed and remembered that she hadn't put on an apron. She reached behind her and saw the large bowl of chocolate icing for the cake. She held onto it and while Harris was licking off the whipped cream from his fingers, she used her hand to throw the chocolate at him.

He looked up and flipped his head to get his floppy jet-black hair out of his gleaming green eyes. He laughed and after hearing the sound that Massie lived for, she laughed as well. She was laughing so hard that she hadn't realized that Harris was in front of her, hand dripping with the chocolate she was holding.

He grinned and rubbed the chocolate on her face. "Baby, you're beautiful, did you know that?"

Massie giggled and put the bowl on the counter and used both hands and wiped the chocolate on her hands onto his shirt. "And you, sweetie, are the hottest thing to walk this earth." She winked and he chuckled.

She slowly licked the chocolate off her fingers and he laughed. "Don't tease me, Massie," he joked. She laughed and threw him even more chocolate. He chortled loudly and licked his index finger. "Mm. You're an excellent cook, Mass."

"I know that. I don't need assurance," she cockily replied.

He laughed, a jubilant glint in his eyes. That was the Massie that he knew and fell in love with. He slowly came up to her and cornered her. She was leaning up against the corner of the counter and she was smiling devilishly.

He moved the strand of her auburn hair away from her chocolate-stained lips with his pinky and stared at her. Without saying anything, he planted his lips on hers and he bit her bottom lip. A tiny squeal escaped her lips and he felt her smile under his. He wrapped his arm around her waist and the other he wrapped behind her back. He lifted her onto the counter without their lips parting.

She separated her legs and pulled him in, wrapping her legs around his back. He was only a year older than she was, and yes, he did have raging hormones like any sane teenager. Her arms were wound around his neck and he ran his hands up and down her thighs.

She ran her sticky hands through his hair, surprising herself when her hands didn't get stuck.

Harris let his hands roam her back, occasionally wiping the brown sticky liquids away until he was sure that it was fully gone.

Their tongues danced together as he let his instincts take over and slid his hand under her shirt. His smooth palms sailed across her stomach and back. She shivered and sighed under his wondrous touch.

She led her hands down to the top button of his shirt and started unbuttoning it. She felt him pull away from her and he led his way down to her neck. A tiny moan let itself go from her mouth and she heard him chuckle. Once she got through with his shirt, she threw it off him.

Harris looked up from her neck and into her wide, surprised amber eyes. He smirked and carried her into her bedroom.

July fourth was mentally noted as Massie and Harris's favorite holiday.

The party was raging with people of different ages and backgrounds and personalities. But Todd Henderson had only seen one person that day, and she was with some other guy. Alicia Rivera, his best friend. He knew that she had a boyfriend—Landon Crane was his name. He was tall, good-looking, played lacrosse and had dark hair and green eyes. Apparently, he was the epitome of the perfect boyfriend.

Alicia and Todd had first met when she moved into town a few years ago and became his neighbor. He was nine and she was ten. Back then, Todd was the popular kid and Alicia was the nerd who wore glasses. They grew up best friends until she reached the eighth grade, when she made new friends, moved to a different house, got contacts and just became a more beautiful person. They hadn't made any contact at all since then—until today, when he saw her at the annual Crane-Hamilton July 4th celebration.

"Todd, dude, look at her," his best friend, Danny Robins, said, pointing out a leggy blonde wearing extremely short shorts.

He only nodded, desperate to find Alicia again.

"Dude, hey, dude, there's a chick that's eyeing you over there," Danny whispered, trying to casually smile and nod at a few redheads under a huge cabana.

Todd looked at where Danny nodded earlier. It wasn't Alicia, like he hoped it'd be. It was Olivia Ryan, the bubbly yet annoying blonde that every guy at school had already made out with. She wasn't the brightest of all girls, and she just had to be attracted to Todd like a fly. She had announced it to the entire school, and it made the school newspaper, too.

He rolled his eyes. She was the last person he wanted to see. He sighed and scratched his head. "Hey, Danny, I'm gonna go and walk around, okay?"

Danny nodded his head and hurried over to the large cabana. Danny was his best friend, but all he thought of life was girls. You could say that he was the Michael Kelso of Todd's life; the good-looking guy who always, always got the girl, and then dumped her on her butt when he got tired of her nagging. Then there was Todd; he was the Steven Hyde in his life—he wasn't cool and didn't get high every two minutes, but he seemed to never care. It was the why he would be asked on dates, too. But he just didn't seem up for them.

He passed a few parents talking about investing money into some factory that he didn't really care about. A girl that he knew from one of his past classes smiled at him. He half-smiled back and continued walking around the huge estate.

He was thinking about Alicia Rivera when he walked to the front of the estate and saw a dark-haired girl sitting on the steps.

Alicia, he thought.

He speed-walked to her and throatily said, "Alicia."

She turned around, a surprised look on her face. It was quickly replaced with perplexity and then with glee. "Todd!" she exclaimed, jumping up and hugging him.

He stumbled back a few steps and regained his balance. He wrapped an arm around her back lightly and laughed under his breath. "Yeah, that's my name."

She let go of him and laughed along with him. "Oh, Todd, still possessing that genuine yet totally odd sense of humor."

He laughed and sat down. "Last time I checked, I was dumped because I had no sense of humor." He tried to laugh, but it came off as coughs instead.

Alicia's eyes were wide. "You had a girlfriend?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He raised an eyebrow and refrained from answering that question. He didn't want to hurt her feelings by saying that it was she who hadn't contacted him.

He chuckled. "I never had a girlfriend, Alicia. I wasn't talking about dating-dumped." I was, however, talking about Alicia-Todd dumped.

She nodded as if she understood what he said. "So, you don't have a girlfriend?" she asked.

"Nope," he answered, trying to avoid her prying, beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh…" Her voice faded away, and he had to glance at her from the corner of his eye to check if she was still there.

It was silent for a while before Alicia piped up again. "So, why haven't you found the girl for you yet?"

He smirked. He'd heard this question a million times already. "Well, I have found the perfect girl, it's just that she's found the perfect guy."

Alicia looked at him, sadness in her eyes. "Who is she?" she asked. "Do I know her? Is she pretty? What's she like? Where did you meet her?" she fired.

"Whoa, hold up, Leesh," he chuckled. "I can't exactly tell you that." He suddenly stopped laughing and looked into her brown eyes.

"And why not?" she pouted.

Todd had imagined over a million different scenarios with a million different words to be able to say how he felt about Alicia Rivera. With them sitting there, her boyfriend gone and he having Olivia Ryan eyed him… This wasn't supposed to be the way that she was going to find out how he truly felt about her. He didn't want to ruin her relationship with Landon, but a bigger part of him cajoled him into telling her.

He swallowed back the thickness in his throat, knowing that not everyone lived a happily ever after.

"Tell me who she is, Todd. Maybe I can fix you guys up."

He shook his head. "You can't do that, Alicia." He hadn't meant for his tone to be so sharp. He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was hurt in Alicia's brown eyes.

"If you thought that I was trying to pry—"

"Alicia…" He cleared his throat. "Do you want to know who my perfect girl is?" Again, the thickness filled his throat.

"Only if you're willing to tell me," she murmured.

Todd nodded and pressed his lips together. He stood up and then turned around to see that she was looking back at him. He leaned down, took her smooth face into his hand and planted the softest of kisses on her forehead. "It's you, Alicia. It's always been you. It'll always be you." He forced a smile when he saw a tear spill over and onto her cheek.

"Todd…" she breathed.

"It's okay, Alicia. I just needed you to know that whenever you need me, a friend or something else, I'll always be there. Don't ever forget that, okay?" By that time, a tear had gone over and streaked his cheek as well. "I love you, Alicia Natalia Rivera. Forever and always my heart will be with you." He closed his eyes and smiled.

"Todd…" she whispered, tears running down her cheeks. "Don't tell me that. Todd, please stay."

His hand slid away from her face. He stood up straight, sniffled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He turned around and walked away from the estate; down the driveway he went, away from all of this. Away from the pain that Alicia Rivera injected into his heart and left there to rot. Never again will he let that happen to him.

July fourth was not his day.

Claire Lyons woke up in the middle of beer cans. She winced from the blinding light that streamed from the window and into the room. "Damn," she whispered. Her hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead and neck. She propped herself up on one elbow and tried to identify the place she was currently located at. It was definitely not her house; the place was too homey to be her place. Her house was always empty and you could hear an echo if you whispered.

She sat up and felt a cold breeze run over her body. She looked down and realized that her shirt was off, but everything still seemed to be there. Her eyes widened, and a piercing pain stabbed through her head, but she didn't care. Right now, she needed her shirt. She looked around her and sighed. Her shirt was under her. She pulled it out, sighed and pulled it on. It was an oversized Brooks Brothers shirt that her ex-boyfriend, Kemp Hurley, had given her.

Why was she wearing it in the first place? All he did was date her for sex, even if he didn't get any and ended up cheating on her with Nina Callas. She sighed and on the floor, began to think of all the reasons why she was sitting on this floor in the first place.

First, her father is dating a prostitute, but he doesn't know that.

Second, her best friend moved.

Third, Kemp cheated on her.

Fourth, she knew she did something wrong last night that could possibly jeopardize her good girl status.

Fifth, her older sister was a druggie and needed rehab badly.

Sixth, her mother doesn't remember who she is.

She sighed, "Damn," as she felt the stabbing pain in her head. She winced as she tried to stand up. She ran a hand through her stick-straight blonde hair and felt the greasiness of it. "Yuck," she whispered to herself. "God, I need a shower." She sighed as she heard the loudness of the TV in the other room. "And earplugs and Tylenol and…" she droned on to herself about all the things that went wrong the other night; all the things that she hadn't remembered, but from watching so many unrealistic teen movies, thought happened.

Absentmindedly, she walked up the stairs, heading for the roof. Four flights of stairs later, she was on the roof. She was high up, able to look down at the crowd of people walking to their destination, their heads barely able to distinguish. She walked over to the edge of the roof.

She had done this before; thought about flying. Down to the very bottom; it'd be sixteen seconds of pure bliss; flying; she had reached everything in her life—straight A's, student body president, changed the school buses so that they ran on dung; everything in her life was based off of pure nothing. She did them all because it's what her mother, that bitch, said was right. She had done it all for her, and in the end, nothing. She got bitter nothings.

Taking a deep breath, she moved one centimeter forward, her eyes closing half-way.

"'Sup," a non-familiar voice said from behind her. She jumped back a few steps and turned around, her blue eyes wide and greeting a pair of brown orbs that belonged to a certain dirty-blonde haired boy.

Derrick Harrington was smiling goofily, holding a plate of two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that were cut diagonally. Under his arm, there was a red blanket. He placed the plate on the ground and laid out the blanket and sat on it casually, all the while Claire was watching him with her pale lips parted, confused.

He sat back on the blanket and stared happily at Claire. "What are you doing up this fine day?" he asked. His brown eyes were twinkling, activating the butterflies in Claire's already weak stomach. "You were asleep earlier. If I recall, you had your shirt off." He took a bite out of one of the sandwiches and chewed it thoughtfully.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. Instinctively, her hands flew to her torso. "Were you the one…" her voice trailed off as she tried to catch her heavy breath.

He only chuckled. "No, it wasn't me. In fact, I think it was you who did it, Mademoiselle Claire Stacey." He winked, firing the butterflies once again.

Claire was familiar with this sensation; it had happened with Kemp and it had, unfortunately, happened with Derrick in the second grade, when he had asked her to be his Valentine and she disagreed because "she was aiming for valedictorian".

His eyebrows were raised when he patted the empty space next to him.

Claire narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to sit down." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto her other foot.

Derrick sighed. "Okay then—you can tell me your life story standing up. So, why were you going to commit suicide?" He bit into his sandwich again and looked up at Claire.

She gritted her teeth together. Why was she going to commit suicide? What was her reason? It wasn't like she wasn't eating and that she had horrible education. She wasn't being beaten up or raped nightly by her father. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"So, you went up here, thought about how crappy your life is—mind you that you have a roof over your head, clothes on your back and food on your plate—and decided to commit suicide?"

Claire was awestruck; she knew he was a pretty forward guy, but not that forward. "Uh… Yeah?"

Derrick half-smiled. "Wow… Here, have a sandwich. If you're going to die, you shouldn't die hungry." He winked and clucked his tongue, biting his sandwich again and pushing the plate forward.

Claire gritted her teeth together and sat down next to him. "Why are you being nice to me?" she asked.

He laughed. "I'm nice to everyone."

That sentence made her cringe internally. She thought that maybe, just maybe, he still had a tiny infatuation with her. Well she was wrong. "Of course…"

Derrick half-smiled. "Yeah, but I'm extra nice to really pretty girls. Girls with straight blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes that could melt any guy's heart and I also prefer those that commit suicide for no reason." He looked up at her. "I've always liked you, Claire. I just want you to know that if you die, I might just die of heart break," he softly added.

Thank you Independence Day Gods! Claire thought.

"Josh, come on, the line's getting longer!" Kristen Gregory tugged on Josh Hotz's arm. "Josh, if you were my absolute best friend, then you'd know that I'd want to get a first chance on the Ferris wheel, don't you think?"

He laughed from behind her. "Okay, okay. Jeez, Kristen. All the guys at school will think that I'm a wuss for letting my best girl friend drag me to the Ferris wheel."

Kristen angrily turned to him, their noses barely touching. "You listen here, Hotz. I have been waiting all year for the first ride on the Ferris wheel. I'd better get it or else I'll kick you in places that shouldn't be kicked. I've done it once, I can do it again and again and again and—"

"Okay! Can't a guy crack a joke every now and then?" he teased, pulling Kristen to the Ferris wheel.

And as she wanted, they were the first ones on the circular, headache-inducing ride. Kristen was laughing and pointing out the Statue of Liberty and poking fun at Josh.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Kristen, you're truly lucky that you're my best friend. Because seriously, if you weren't, I wouldn't dare get on this ride."

She giggled, her hair flying back as they elevated and stayed at the top. "Whatever," Kristen finally commented, staring at the bottom. "Even if I wasn't your best friend, you'd so ask me to go on here." With her wide green eyes, she stared cockily at him, an eyebrow raised and the corner of her lips turned up.

Josh laughed, thinking that the sight of his best friend was beautiful. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh, it's just that I know you think that I'm gorgeous." She faked a laugh and flipped her hair over her shoulder, an attempt to imitate the notorious Ripple Baxter.

Josh heartily laughed. "No offense, Kristen, but you are so not my crush."

Kristen rolled her eyes. "Then who is?" she pressed, her green eyes burning with curiosity.

He squirmed under her demanding stare. "Kris, it's unnecessary for you to know. It's not going to help you to get a job as a vet."

"Ugh, Josh, just tell me, I won't tell anyone. We're best friends; you know I can't embarrass you to save my life."

Josh stared at Kristen's beautiful bright eyes. It was like staring into a melted pool of emeralds; she was intoxicating him; her smell, her stare, the way she looked, her voice and laugh. He sighed and thought that it wouldn't hurt to tell her who it was. "Well, you know… she's really cool. I'm really close to her, other than you, of course. And she has these exquisite pair of eyes; they're beautiful. I can stare into them for days on end. She knows everything about me…"

As he trailed on, Kristen's heart sank with every word. She knew that never, never ever would her best friend since the seventh grade fall in love with a soccer whore like her. Sure, they shared many things in common; their love for playfulness and food, music, soccer and many other things that make both of them addicted to each other's company. Kristen could never picture a world without Josh; he was just too special to her.

"And yeah, she's just this really cool girl that I find annoyingly beautiful, both inside and out," he finished, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.

Kristen nodded robotically and gripped tighter onto the handle. Josh eyed her white knuckles and nervously commented, "Jeez, Kristen, if you hold onto that any tighter, you may just make it come off. You don't want to die not knowing the end of Pretty Little Liars, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, it's not like it's any important anyway."

Josh gulped and ran a hand through his hair. The ride took three long minutes and finally, they were let off. Kristen had a brain-splitting headache that pierced through her head. It was one of the reasons why Josh didn't want her riding the darned thing in the first place. And yet she was so persistent on watching it, he just had to give in all the time.

He grabbed her hand and led her out of the crowd that was beginning to form around the Ferris wheel. She sighed and leaned into Josh. He smelled of a spicy Ralph Lauren scent, one that Kristen had grown accustomed to.

He led her all the way to his car and opened the passenger door for her. As he planted Kristen on the leather seat, he had come to a realization that Kristen was asleep on his shoulder.

No wonder why she got heavier, he thought.

He sighed and closed her door, heading for the other side. He climbed into his car, not wanting to bring her home. She had no one to go home to, and he had no one to go home to. They practically lived with each other that it wasn't awkward with them anymore.

It had never been awkward, he thought as he drove to their favorite spot. Finally, he reached the open prairie near their house. It was a beautiful spot that Kristen discovered and showed to Josh. And tonight, with Kristen next to him, it was even more beautiful. He reclined his chair and leaned over Kristen to recline hers.

When he got comfortable in his seat, he heard Kristen mumble something incoherent. He chuckled. She was always something completely odd in her sleep. She mumbled again, but this time, it made more sense to Josh. He was alert now and he definitely heard what Kristen said.

"I love you, too, Josh."

A/N: Aha. Well, Happy Fourth of July everyone(: To some of you, it may be pretty early for this, but it's July 4th here(: For Kristen and Josh, that one wasn't very creative and I'm sorry about it. I actually was amused the whole time writing this. Well, I hope that was cracky enough for all-a-yeh. Tell me who your favorite was! (:

Review?

Pizzazz,

WhereItAllBegins(: