A/N: Okay, so this is my first try at Meg Cabot stuff. It's hard! But I tried my best. I hope you like it, and reviews make me so happy. I guess this'll be a one-shot, unless I get some miracle amount of reviews. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that's Meg Cabot's. Obviously.

One Shot: Exorcizing Kelly Prescott

"Do not tell me you think," Jesse was saying, "that that dress is…what is the English word?...oh yes. Flattering."

He was watching Kelly with a weary expression. Her dress, which she'd just been ordered to sew up as the slit was too high, was extremely…in Jesse's words, not flattering. It made her look, honestly, like a bit of a try-hard.

For want of a better word.

"Of course I don't," I replied, leaning against him contently. "I'd rather she wore a plastic bag. Much more amusing."

He stared at me for a minute, almost as if to see if I was joking or no. I, myself, was not sure, but I grinned anyway and pecked him on the lips.

"Hey, guys!" She called, strutting over to us, her hips swaying. Paul was nowhere to be seen. I went over to the table to grab a drink. As I poured, I could hear Kelly whisper to poor Jesse, "When you dump Simon, I'll be glad to relieve some of that tension."

Jesse just looked confused.

She winked at him and then, thinking I wasn't looking, leaned over and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I walked over and, smirking, threw my drink over her.

She screeched and stared at me, "Suze! What did you do that for? I was only…I was only…"

She, apparently, couldn't think of what she'd 'only' been doing.

"You mess with my boyfriend again," I whispered in her ear, so Jesse couldn't hear, "and I will do more than throw a drink over you."

"Oh, really, Simon?" She let out an evil laugh. "What could you do to me?"

I stared at her for a minute, before saying, "Shut up, Prescott, before you get your pretty little nose broken."

And with that, I turned on my heel, leaving a bright red, but frightened-looking, Kelly Prescott behind me.

If only I could exorcize her.

Well, I could, I suppose. But it wouldn't be the most humane way of death. Or forever wandering. Then again…

"Don't even think about it," Jesse breathed in my ear, pulling me to his chest. I looked up at him.

"Don't even think about what?" I asked innocently, my breath catching as he rubbed my back softly.

"Exorcizing Kelly Prescott," he replied, his eyes bright with mischief. I stared at him. There was no point pretending.

"How did you know I was thinking that?" I demanded.

This was freaky. So not cool, when your hot not-so-dead-anymore, hundred and something, boyfriend can read your mind.

"Isn't that what you are meant to know when you fall into love?" he asked softly. He was staring at me with those dreamy, dark eyes of his. I felt my tears well up, for no particular reason.

I hoped I didn't keep on this crying. It was exhausting.

"What did she mean 'relieve some of that tension'?" He asked, puzzled once again.

I was crying properly now. Except from laughter, not happiness, or sadness, or whatever.

I said, "Fly into bed. Get laid. Jump your bones." When he still looked confused, I said, amusedly, "Sex."

He said, shocked, "Oh." And then, "Oh."

I smirked. "You don't want to lose your precious virtue to her, honey," I advised, amused. "You're way out of her league. Way too old, I reckon."

"If that's how you're going to play," Jesse whispered in my ear, suddenly not so eighteenth century, and more like a real, twenty-first century, seductive teenager, "I guess I'll just have to settle with you instead."

I pulled back and stared at him. "Did you just say that?" I said incredulously. Then I burst out laughing. He grinned down at me.

And then I realised I didn't care that Jesse had been dead for the last hundred years, that I would have to handle a whole lot more girls bating after him, or that a whole new life was ahead of us.

Because just for that moment, everything was perfect.