A/N: Hey there. This dream I had turned into a story like most author's dreams do. My dream, however, involved me going on a treasure hunt as well, but I REALLY don't see how I'm gonna fit that in here. LOL. So yeah...this is gonna have the guys of MCR in here. I didn't exactly know where to catagorize this story, but I just put it in as best as I could. You don't have to like MCR to read this, but it might make the story a little more...interesting, or something.

Also...I can't believe Bob left the band! :( So long. Imma miss you fierce!

Chapter 1: Can I Ask You a Favor?

Blair's POV

"Paranoia is in bloom. The PR transmissions will resume. They'll try to push you drugs and keep you all dumbed down. And hope that we will never see the truth around!" I sang along as my favorite band belted out their anger at our global financial crisis. Nothing like some Muse in the morning to wake me up. "Another promise, another scene. Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed. With all the green belts wrapped around our minds. And endless red tape to keep the truth confined."

"Blair! Will you shut up for a minute?! I can't hear myself think!" My little brother, Chris, burst angrily into my room, his ten-year-old, pudgy cheeks red with frustration. I groaned exasperatedly and flicked my CD player off, listening to the music die abruptly. Chris would never understand the power of Muse. I ruffled his light brown hair, and only grinned when he slapped my hand away. "You sound like a dying animal." he complained noisily, patting his ruffed hair back into place.

"And you..." I retorted, hopping over my pile of art supplies on the ground, "sound like an annoying little brother." He stuck his tongue out at me before lunging to my nightstand and grabbing my ipod. "Hey!" I excalimed, dashing across my messy floor as I heard his footsteps thump down the stairs. I saw his pajama clad form skid around the corner and into the kitchen, and quickly made the turn, myself. "Chris, give that back!" I shouted, coming face to face with him across our kitchen table. He stood at one end, and I positioned myself at the other, glaring at him as he grinned cheekily.

"I am going to kill you..." I said through gritted teeth. Suddenly, my bustling mother entered the kitchen.

"What are you two fighting about, now?" she asked calmly, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.

"He took my ipod!" I wasted no time ratting my little brother out. My mother remained cool as a cucumber.

"And, what did you do to make him take your ipod?" she asked me pointedly, cracking some eggs in a bowl and beginning to whisk them until the mixture turned bright yellow.

"She was up there screaming like Miley Cyrus!" Chris whined, pointing frantically at me in an attempt to dramatize the scene a little more.

"Hold on!" I interrupted. "I think I like the dying animal analogy better. At least I had some level of dignity before." My mother tried to hide her smirk behind a box of Bisquick, but I didn't miss anything. Finally, she spoke, her back turned to us as she searched for something in the corner cupboard.

"Blair...turn your music down, and try to refrain from 'singing like a dying animal'. Chris...quit whining and give your sister back her ipod." She finally unearthed a package of chocolate chips and turned to dump some into the pancake batter she had started to prepare during our argument. My brother continued to mumble under his breath, but handed the purple device over. I hugged it to my chest like some obsessed person, and skipped over to the pancake bowl, dipping my finger in.

"Mmmm...chocolate chip pancakes." I said, closing my eyes in ecstacy. My mother ruined my fun by slapping the backs of my hands with her spatula. I frowned. "Jeese, Mom. Way to kill the moment." She only blew me a kiss, which I purposely failed to return. Only to annoy her, I wasn't really mad, and she knew it. I wandered into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

In my opinion, I always look like I just came home from a raging party when I wake up in the morning. My multicolored hair stuck up in all directions, dark circles under my light brown eyes, even the way my nose twitched slightly every now and then. I ran a brush through my light brown, yellow and bright pink rat's nest until it looked messy, but at least presentable. Then I did my daily makeup routine. Concealer, liner, mascara, clear lip gloss. Hmm...which eyeshadow shall I pick today? I decided on none, and then changed my double labret piercings from bright green to black.

Now presenting...Blair Hunter! In all her wonder and glory. I gave a twirl in front of my mirror, and shook my head. It was only, like, noon and I was already psycho. I was already dressed, so I didn't have to worry about that. A black t-shirt with neon boom boxes covering the front, black skinny jeans, and I planned to wear my favorite pair of chunky black boots. And, of course, I couldn't forget my lucky paperclip bracelet.

"Blair, you almost finished in there? Breakfast...er...lunch, I guess, is finished." My mother was calling from her position at the stove as she flipped the delicious pancakes. I quickly grabbed a stack of, like, five and drowned them all in maple syrup.

"No...help us..." I narrarated for the pancakes as they became consumed in the sugary substance. "No! Blair, save us." I stabbed them roughly with my fork, giving a short, evil laugh. "Haha." I shoved a forkfull into my mouth, and then glanced up, realizing my family was staring at me like I was insane or something. What? You never seen someone commentate while eating their pancakes before? What has our world become? I continued to devour the delicious hot cakes until I felt like my stomach was about to burst.

I looked down waiting to see a potbelly from the way I ate all day, but my stomach somehow remained flat no matter what I ate. I am really surprised I don't weigh, like, Fat Albert status by now. All I do all day is eat, and watch movies, and listen to music. Ahh, well... I shoved another bunch of pancake into my mouth and chewed hungrily. My mom soon sat down, and now we were eating moderately like a family. Me, my brother, and my mother. Let's go get a camera and remember the happy moment! Click!

Where was the father figure in this all-american family? Let me explain quickly so we can get on with the story. My father was a douche bag who left my mom to fend for herself when I was five so he could run off with some hot Spanish bitch. His name was Damen. We all think he's a dick! And they all lived happily ever after. Yay!

Breakfast continued as a peacefull affair, the air filled with the scent of pancakes and the sound of fork against plate. Until....

"Play that funky music, white boy! Play that funky music right! Play that funky music white boy! Lay down the boogie and play that funky music 'till ya die!" My mom looked over at me, her eyebrows raised impossibly high as the music blared from my pocketed cell phone.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, taking a bite of pancake. I tried to swallow a particularily large mouthfull as the music played on.

"Devon." I said finally, grabbing my phone and flicking it open. "Hello?"

"Blair!!!!" Devon, one of my best friends, said excitedly on the other line.

"Devon!" I mimicked back, getting up from the table and walking into the entry way to talk in private. He started to giggle erratically. I sighed. I loved Devon to death, but he was just so hyper. "What are you doing?" I asked, listening to him crack up.

"Oh, nothing. I just woke up." I raised my eye brows. It sounded like he was on a sugar high. I tried to imagine hyperactive Devon with his insanely messy brown hair and black eyes, doing nothing. It was something that just didn't happen. Suddenly, I heard a voice in the background on Devon's end.

"Devon! Are you almost finished?! I found the stuff!" The voice was deep, unfamiliar, and not necessarily unexpected, knowing Devon.

"God, Devon, you're such a whore." I said playfully into the reciever, only to get a giggle in return. Did I mention that Devon was gay? Well...he is. And let's just say, he's had no shortage of lovers, that's for sure. "What's his name this time?" I asked, flinging myself back onto the stairs so I could sit.

"Cameron, and he's very sexy, but I have something to tell you!" He relayed this information so fast that I almost couldn't make out what he was saying. I waited for him to continue. "I had a dream--" He was cut off with a sudden burst of laughter. I just waited patiently, being used to him getting hyper like this. He stopped and took a deep breath. "Okay...I had a dream that you were...you were obese!" And he was ravaged by another attack of laughter. I was puzzled for a minute.

"You called me to tell me you had a dream that I was obscenely overweight? That's not very nice." I playfully pouted, picking at my chipping neon green nail polish.

"No, it's just...you? Overweight?!" He continued to laugh, and I just rolled my eyes. "And...you were so obese...that you died!" I groaned. This was really mean. Dying of obesity wasn't funny. Yet...I found myself trying not to laugh. God, I was such a hypocrite.

"Goodbye, Devon." I said, moving to shut my phone.

"No wait!" And he was suddenly calm, as if by magic. I groaned. I just wanted to eat my pancakes! "Wanna go to Dairy Queen later?" The Dairy Queen parking lot had been me and my friend's hang out all summer. Easy access to ice cream and a bathroom, and usually no one shouted rude things out their car windows at us there, because their minds were preoccupied with the delicious ice cream.

"Sure, why not." I said. It's not like I had anything better to do. Abruptly, Devon sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just can't believe it's only a week and a half until summer break is over." That sentence hit me like a slap in the face. I ran to check the calendar. "Let me guess...you just made a frantic dash to look at the calendar? I did the same thing when Cameron brought it up." I didn't respond, for sure enough, it was August 23th. We got back to school on the 2nd. I couldn't believe it. days? That was it? Where had those sacred three months gone? Devon allowed me a minute or two to stomach the news. Finally, he spoke again. "So...we still on for Dairy Queen?" I snapped out of my school-induced stupor to respond.

"Yeah...what time do you think you'll be...decent?" I asked, being very implied. He giggled again, and told me he'd pick me up at five when the sun turned orangey and made sitting in the lot all the more fun. I loved riding in Devon's truck, 'cause he had a flatbed and he sometime's let me ride in the bed. We hung up, and I wandered back to the table, finding my pancakes to be cold and yucky. I fed the rest of them to our dog, Ringo, and proceeded to watch him devour them. Yes...our dog was named after the forgotten Beatle. Get over it.

Then our house phone started to ring, the shrill sound startling Ringo and making him run for cover. I chuckled. My poor dog was such a coward. I think it was because our ginger cat, Pumpkin, was so mean to him. They routinely got into fights. And by fights, I mean Pumpkin kicked Ringo's ass and then ate his food. I don't know...I just don't know. Suddenly, the phone was under my nose.

"For you." hissed my mother, motioning for me to take it. I grabbed the device from her hands and held it up to my mouth.

"Hello?" I wondered who it was. No one ever called for me on my home phone. Everyone just used my cell number.

"Is this Blair Hunter?" a deep voice boomed over the line. I was puzzled. They sounded totally unfamiliar.

"Yeah..." I climbed up off the floor and leaned against my kitchen counter, wondering what was up. He sounded big and menacing. Like...government type. I gulped and tried to remember anything illegal I had done in the last few weeks. Can they arrest you for sneaking into an R rated movie? I was only one year short of being able to get into one!

"Is your refrigerator running?" the voice boomed again. I groaned.

"Maggie!" I heard my best friend start laughing on the other end. "I swear...I'm going to hang up."

"Oh come on, don't be a bitch." Maggie said jokingly. "You know I love you." I could dimly hear the song Lisztomania by Phoenix playing in the background.

"I thought you hated that song." I said. I had shown her the song the other day, and she had immediately declared her dislike for it. Of course...she did that with every song I showed her, and then, a few days later, she couldn't stop listening to it. That was how she had been introduced to her favorite band, The Distillers. Maggie was one of the weirdest people I knew. And I loved her to bits!

"Ehh...it's starting to grow on me. Hey, listen...I'm coming over to your house." I didn't even say anything. I was used to Maggie inviting herself over. Her parents were never home on account of constant business trips, and she was an only child. Must get kinda lonely. She hadn't dated anyone since the first grade, either. Not that my love life was remarkable, or anything. "What's your mom making for breakfast-lunch?" This is what we called my mom's wacked up cooking schedual. She cooked 'breakfast' around noon, and then made dinner around eightish.

"I'll save you some chocolate chip pancakes." I told her, saving the remaining three pancakes from my brother, who had been reaching across the table to grab them. He stuck his tongue out at me, and I fought the urge to flip him off. Today is Sunday, after all. Ahh...who am I kidding. I swiftly raised my middle finger, supressing laughter at Chris' confused expression. So young...so innocent. "When are you getting here, anyways?" I asked. Suddenly, I heard the front door bang open.

"I'm home!" I heard Maggie in the front hall. I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone, running out to meet her. Maggie was pretty. She had shoulder-length wavy, bright orangish-red hair, and icy blue eyes that caught everyone's attention. She wasn't bone thin like I was, but she was far from fat, with curves in all the right places. In other words...Maggie was hot.

I jumped ontop of her in a huge hug, my legs coming around her waist. When I jumped down, I studied her outfit. Maggie like to dress like she'd just walked off the set of a punk rock music video. She had her black bombers jacket thrown on over a black Ramones tank top, and black jean shorts with black and red striped tights underneath. And of course, her black Chucks.

"Darling, so good to see you again." she said in a fake English accent, kissing my cheek and giving a deep curtsey. She suddenly snapped upward. "Now where be my chocolate chip pancakes?" And with that, she strutted towards the kitchen, careful to track dirt on every inch of hardwood we owned.

"Hello, Maggie." My mother said good-naturedly, not bothering to look up from her Good Housekeeping magazine.

"Hey Mrs. H. How's it going?" Maggie asked energetically, helping herself to the pancakes and syrup. My mother had already layed out an extra plate and fork for her. She knew us so well. My mother simply nodded and returned to her article. My brother had somehow miraculously disappeared. After awhile, I got bored of watching her shoveling pancakes into her mouth and whipped out my phone to take a surprise picture of her. I laughed as I captured her in mid-bite, her eyes slightly bugging as she stared at her fork. I snorted.

"It's high time I had some blackmail of you. Now go clean my room, or I send this to every hot guy in school." Before I knew it, I had a face full of pancakes. Maggie giggled.

"Sneak attack for the pancake bomber! Maggie wins!" She got up and did a little happy dance before clearing her spot. I tried to chuck an orange at her, but missed. "Haha...epic fail!" Maggie gloated. My mom finally looked up from her article.

"Try not to throw too much citrus fruit, okay, girls?" Maggie suddenly dashed upstairs, and I was forced to drag my lazy ass up after her. When I finally got to the top of the stairs, Maggie had unearthed my mix CD from, like, two years ago, and popped it into the player. I Love Rock and Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts blared out the speakers. She jumped ontop of my bed and started to sing along. Her voice sounded remarkably like Joan's, whose voice I loved. I however, got to rock out the guitar parts with the yardstick randomly under my bed, and nothing can beat that. The song ended and Aha's Take On Me started playing, so we turned it down a little so that we could talk.

"Hey...Devon called earlier. We're going to Dairy Queen at five. You wanna come?" I asked hopefully. I loved doing stuff with Devon alone sometimes, but this was one of those things that just wasn't the same if the whole gang wasn't there.

"Of course. When have I ever said no to friends and Dairy Queen? And it'll give me a chance to work on my opening article for the school newspaper. 'The Meat Industry's Control Over Fast Food Companies: A Cry For Help' by Margarette Wheeler." She used hand gestures to make it more dramatic. I sighed. Maggie was a devoute vegetarian and was convinced that everyone else wanted to be one too, they were just being pushed by the evil meat industry she was always rambling about.

She suddenly hopped up from the bed and sprang over to my window. "C'mon. Let's go out on the roof. It's cool out today, and besides...I need a smoke." I groaned and followed. Maggie absolutely loved three things. Her friends, the summer, and smoking. And while I sound like the announcer for Miss America, she also enjoys music, being a journalist, long walks on the beach, and bashing the meat industry. I took my place beside her on my grainy roof, and layed back to watch the clouds. She lit up and then did the same. We both put on our kick-ass big sunglasses and spent the next half hour or so picking out cloud shapes like seven year olds.

I found a puppy, two fish, and an elf. Maggie found our principal getting struck by lightning. Hmmm...I wonder what was on her mind?

The rest of the afternoon passed with ease. We did stupid things like burned last year's math book in my garage. This was a yearly ritual we had carried out since the seventh grade. We also lit a barbie on fire just for the hell of it. Then we watched The Breakfast Club, and, out of burning curiosity, had to test out the crazy chick's Pixie Stix and Cap N' Crunch sandwhich. The rest of the time we played Mario Kart on my humble game cube.

"Yeah...that's right, Bowser! Suck my mushroom!" I cried as I nabbed a speed mushroom from the middle of the track. Maggie and I had nicknamed them vroom vroom shrooms. She groaned as I took first place, something I rarely did. Today must be my luck day. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Glancing at the clock, I realized it 5:10 already. Wow...it's easy to waste the day doing mindless shit, isn't it? We dashed to the door, and both jumped ontop of Devon before he even realized what was happening to him. Being surprisingly strong for a skinny guy like him, he managed to carry us both inside before dropping us at the foot of the stairs.

"Devon..." Maggie joked, running up and examining his arm. "Have you been working out?" She punched his shoulder and then skipped off to my bathroom to redo her eyeliner. Both me and Devon (yes, DEVON wears guyliner sometimes) followed suit. Maggie is obsessed with her eyeliner. We had to drag her away from the mirror before she would respond to us remotely.

"Mom! We're going to Dairy Queen!" I called as Devon pulled me toward the door, eager to get his ice cream.

"Again?" she asked coming to where I was being pulled. I gripped the edge of the wall as he tugged harder.

"You betcha. We only have six more days, and we'll never be able to go to Dairy Queen again....without homework." I tacked on, because I knew we would never be able to give up our Dairy Queen routine completely. My mom grinned and then told us to go on. I escaped Devon's grip and ran to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Back by eleven!" she called, rounding the corner. Devon finally swung me up over his shoulder in his impatience. Maggie held the door open for him as we stepped outside, and of course...just couldn't pass up this opportunity to slap my ass.

"Ow..." she said after the impact. "Even your ass is bony." I just laughed. Maybe now she'd think twice before invading my bubble. Awww, who am I kidding. This is Maggie we're talking about, here. I suddenly became aware that my elderly neighbors were watching us from their porch. Staring open mouthed with looks of dissappointment. I suppose this looked sort of odd. Me slung over Devon's shoulder, and Maggie spanking me. Haha. Pis-sing off society is fun!

"Can I ride in the back?" I begged as we neared the truck. When Devon didn't respond, I pinched his side until he let out a yelp.

"Dammit, Blair!" he said loudly, raising astonished looks on the old couple's faces. I giggled accordingly.

"Please?!" Without warning, he tossed me into the bed, and started to laugh. "Bitch..." I mumbled under my breath, rubbing my sore back. Maggie jumped up into the bed with me.

"Hey, Devon, open up this little window thingy so we can hear the music." she called around to the front. The little window into the truck was soon thrown open, and when Devon started up the truck, we could hear....

"Oh God, Devon! Not this again!" I whined through the window as he pulled out of the driveway. Devon had been listening to nothing but the song Colors by The Rocket Summer for the past several days. It was getting to be ridiculous.

"Oh come on, it's a good song." He defended the song promptly, causing us to groan again.

"It is a good song." said Maggie. "But not when you listen to it a thousand times a day."

"Well...Blair's obsessed with Muse." he said, sounding a little hurt. I thought for a minute.

"That may be true, but they're not all I listen to."

"What about that one time...when you were constantly listening to that one song by...Skillet. What was it called? Monster...you listened to that all day long." Devon just kept on rolling out excuses to make his obsession seem less severe.

"That..." I informed him, "Was for, like, two days. Not a week. There is a difference."

"Yeah!" yelled Maggie, poking her head into the car through the window. "Now change the song, Devon, I'm warning you, or I will crawl through this tiny window and strangle you with my bare hands until you put something else on." It's always best to comply to whatever Maggie wants you to do when she's threatening you, 'cause you never know what she feels up to that day. So Devon reluctantly took the CD out and turned up the volume on the radio.

"'Cause I'm a vegetarian, and I ain't fuc-king scared of him!" suddenly blasted out the speakers. Me and Maggie squealed and jumped to our feet, because we were stopped at a red light for the moment. "Don't trust a ho! Never trust ho! Don't trust a ho! 'Cause the ho won't trust me!" We sang along with the song, ignoring the stares we got from several of the drivers also waiting at the light.

"Sit down, it's gonna turn green!" Devon called from the front, and sure enough the light suddenly glowed bright green, and we shot forward, sending both of us toppling to the bottom of the bed. Maggie ended up ontop of me. "You guys okay?!" we heard from the front again. We were laughing too hard to respond. Truth be told, we loved it when that happened. "You guys are gonna get me in so much trouble. Sit down." Maggie crawled to the window and poked her head in.

"Devon, take The Backroad." she all but commanded as we flew down the main road towards Dairy Queen. He must have shaken his head, 'cause she was now begging. "Please? Come on...once more for the summer? For old time's sake? We love you?" We veered off on a sudden left towards The Backroad, so Maggie must have won the argument. (Surprise, surprise.)

The Backroad was an old, dirt road left over from 'prehistoric' times when people used those. No one ever took The Backroad anymore, so we took advantage of that, using it to play The Start, Stop game. Maggie gave an excited giggle as we pulled up at the beginning of The Backroad, and grabbed my hands, pulling me up and to the middle of the bed. We gripped tightly onto eachother's forearms, and planted our feet as the car came to a stop.

"You guys ready?" Devon asked, turning to see that we were in position. "Okay...hang...on tight!" And with that, he shot forward. We both lurched, but managed to stay on our feet. About ten seconds later, he slammed on the brakes. We lurched backwards, and I almost fell over, but Maggie pulled me upright again as Devon sped onward again. This time, only about a four second period passed until he hit the breaks. We crashed to the floor in a fit of laughter. Devon joined in on the crack up, pulling back onto the main road and cruising along to the now visible Dairy Queen.

He swiftly pulled into the lot and took our usual parking space closest to the door, parking like a blind man as always. We hopped out of the bed an raced to be the first to the door. The Dairy Queen people (who sadly knew us all by name) were waiting for us, and we quickly ordered our usuals. I got a medium Oreo blizzard, Maggie got a medium chocolate, chocolate dipped cone, and Devon got a large cookie dough blizzard. After we paid, we dashed outside to claim our usual spot in the forgotten corner of the lot by the air vent where all the cool air was blasted down onto us. Yay!

Maggie lit a cigarette like she always does and took a long drag before exhaling and taking a bite of her ice cream. I sighed, wishing that these days would never end. They were the best! But it would all be over in a few short days, and I would be stuck back in that penitentiary they called our highschool. At least these guys would be there with me. At least I had that. We stole bites of eachothers treats in silence, just enjoying eachother's company. Eventually I pulled my ipod out and turned on some Green Day album I had on there. I leaned my head on Maggie's shoulder, and she leand hers ontop of mine. I pulled Devon over and we started to play with his hair. All in all, we ended up giving him a princess Leia 'do, braids, pigtails, and finally settled on a japanese bun. School only comes along to end the summer, I think.

Suddenly, Maggie was on her feet and pacing, long having finished her ice cream. I just watched her shuffle along while I helped Devon fix his hair back to normal. After a few minutes, I finally decided to ask what was on her mind. "Maggie, are you okay?" She stopped pacing and suddenly came to sit cross-legged in front of us.

"Guys...I have a major problem." she said, bringing her hand up to the tips of her orangey hair and tugging like she always did when she was thinking. Both me and Devon leaned in dramatically like in all the movies. Maggie looked uncharacteristically apprehensive. Her dilemas were usually far and few between; often minor and not entirely uneasy to resolve. "You see...I kinda...well, you know how I'm a major procrastinator?" Me and Devon just looked at eachother. Among many wonderful qualities that Maggie possesed, organization and a get-to-it attitude were not included.

"Well...the think is...I sunk this major article towards the end of last year on the dangers of walking home alone after that girl went missing. Totally bommed it. And it...well, kinda maybe almost cost me my job on the paper." She started to wince towards the end of the sentence, as though afraid one of us would lash out and hit her when we heard the news. This came as no surprise, though. We were used to Maggie's bad habit of putting things off to last minute getting her into sticky situations. She was notorious for it.

"And, this is news to us because?" Devon prompted her after a moment of silence. Maggie huffed impatiently. She preferred to get anything opinionated down on paper and into print. She said it was the only way she could think correctly.

"Well, I really love being a journalist, so I told Mr. Karinger that I'd do this major, major piece for the opening paper. And well..." she trailed off, her vision skimping to her Chucks. I sighed.

"Let me guess...you haven't even started it yet." She glanced up at me, a blush forming across her cheeks. "I still don't see where this is going." I said, wondering why we should be terribly concerned about it. Did she want help writing the article? Want us to fake that she had moved to another country so she didn't have to write it?

"Well, that too. But, you see, the thing is...I can't write it yet. Like...I don't have the right resources." I was still confused.

"Well, what's it on?" asked Devon, keen to get right to the point.

"It's going to be titled 'St. James Academy for Boys Exposed: The Fraud Behind the Reputation' by Margarette Wheeler." Again with the dramatic hand gestures. I frowned.

"Wait...I thought you were doing the whole...meat industry boycott thing again." I pressed for more information. She shrugged a classic Maggie shrug before adding:

"That's just a side article. This...on the other hand...this is front page news right here." I rose my eyebrows.

"What exactly is the...um...fraud behind the reputation?" Devon asked, fiddling with his too-long locks. Maggie grinned broadly

"Well, I have this theory..." We both groaned. Maggie had more theory's than a room full of conspiracy theorists. " I have this theory...That St. James secretly raises their school's final exam scores so that they get a better reputation. And when you have a better reputation...the money rolls in like there's no tomorrow."

"Okay..." I said, struggling to understand what exactly she was getting at. "And you have proof of this how?" Her whole face lit up when I said this, and she jumped to her feet in excitement.

"Well...I was at my dad's office a week or two before school let out, just waiting for him to finish up some last minute stuff, and I really had to go to the bathroom. So I ran down the hall, and to get to the bathroom, you have to go past a couple offices. In one of 'um, the headmaster of St. Jame's himself was there." She grinned broadly, obviously proud of herself.

"And, of course, I couldn't just not see what was going on, so I just peeked in a little bit, and you'll never guess what I saw!" She didn't even give us time to phrase an idea before she blurted out what happened. "I only caught the end of it, but from what I gathered, the headmaster guy is paying their little 'inside man' to get ahold of the test scores before they're officially filed, and raise them." By the time she finished, it felt like my eyebrows must have flown off my head, they were raised so high. This sounded like something out of an FBI movie, except, if that were the case, Maggie would have really huge boobs, I would be a computer geek, and Devon would evidently have a mullet.

"Maggie...you're writing for the school newspaper, not the New York Times." Devon cautioned her. Maggie only glared in his direction.

"An article can be an amazing piece of writing whether it be on the front cover or the last page." I could see her fiery temper flaring up, and quickly came up with something to say before the pot boiled over, so to speak.

"Alright...so say they are raising the test scores. I don't get it...what do we have to do with this?" I asked, snapping the shiny red plastic spoon that had come with my blizzard. I snapped little bits off at a time, and chucked them at the wall, listening to the tinkery sound they made when they collided with the metal of the frame.

"You see...this is where I need the favor. I was thinking...in order to get the information I need to prove this...I'm going to need an inside source. You know...someone who could get inside the school and then feed me information from the inside." Me and Devon exchanged another look.

"You're asking us to break into some pansy school and somehow prove that this headmaster dude is raising his kid's test scores?" Devon questioned in awe. Maggie smirked.

"First of all...I don't think you're at liberty to call anybody a pansy, mister. Secondly, I was thinking more along the lines of something less illegal." Her smirk grew into a grin, and she let out an evil laugh. I gulped. You never know what Maggie is planning. "I was thinking more like maybe one of you guys could register at the school, and then get the info that way." The last of her sentence was said at lightning speed, but I heard just enough of it to make me laugh.

"No, this is even worse than the time you wanted us to join that ice skating competition just so you could prove that that one couple was screwing with the ice to make it harder to skate on." My sides were hurting from laughing so hard. I couldn't believe she wanted us to go to some fancy schmancy academy all for a newspaper article. But she suddenly looked really hurt.

"C'mon you guys, I'm being serious. What if this would be the article that launched my career? How would you feel knowing you ruined my dreams of being a professional journalist for a big end newspaper?" She pouted pathetically, and I tried to controll my fit of giggles. It was just so ridiculous! "Please? Devon...I bet you could do it." she prompted.

"Uh...I don't think so. Someone would beat me up, or I would get kicked out for screwing some guy." Devon said, shaking his head firecly. "If you want to actually get any information at all, you need to find someone else." Maggie thought for a minute.

"Fair enough...you're off the hook." Suddenly she turned to me, staring and looking up an down, seeming deep in thought. It took me a minute to figure out what she was doing.

"Okay, before you even say anything, the answer is no. No, no, no, no, no frickin' way!" I said, chucking my last piece of spoon at her so she'd get the message.

"Awe, please?! You could do it! I know you could!" Maggie said, jumping to her feet. I gave a short burst of astonished laughter.

"Maggie, this is ridiculous! There is no way I am pretending to be a dude so you can get your article!" I too was on my feet now, using wild hand gestures to express just how ridiculous this idea was.

"I thought you were my best friend. You know...the do anything for one another kind." So she was going to play the best friend card?

"Well...when I told you I would do anything for you, it never really...occured to me that dressing up as a boy and attending an all boys school was on your list of criteria!" I couldn't believe that she was actually serious!

"Give me one good reason why you can't do this." Maggie pressed, just trying to stall so I didn't 'officially' say no. Just the fact that I was arguing with her, made her think that I had the smallest grain of possibility inside. Which I don't, by the way, so don't get any ideas.

"Well, for one...I have boobs! And another...I actually think I look at least remotely like a girl! And, I don't know for sure, but I think maybe having...I don't know...SOME form of the male anatomy would help in this situation. Please...correct me if I'm wrong." Hmm...my sarcastic side was starting to show a little. Sarcasm was one of my specialties. Suddenly, Devon jumped to his feet and walked over to me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to face him, looking me up and down.

"Actually...you wouldn't look half bad as a guy. It might actually work." he said. I groaned in annoyance, twisting out of his grip on my shoulders.

"What about you?" I asked Maggie sourly, rubbing where his hands had gripped, trying to rid them of any soreness. "Why can't you dress up like a guy and sneak in there? You're the one writing the article." She thought for a minute.

"I have way bigger boobs than you, I'm terrible at going undercover, and I have way too obvious curves." I listened to her list of excuses incredulously.

"Well...thanks for telling me that I look more like a guy than any of you, but, um..." I trailed off, looking down at my skinny body. I couldn't help it if it was a little bit boyish. I had some breasts. Sure...only B cups, but at least I had something. But...enough talking about my boobs. "No." And there went Maggie with her little puppy dog eyes. She was even whimpering for added patheticness. And then Devon was doing it too. "Why are you pouting? You're out of the question, remember." I said the last part a little bitterly, but he didn't seem offended.

"Oh, c'mon...I wanna see you give this a try. This could lead to some serious entertainment." He said, coming over to join our little standing group. There was a moment of silence in which the pair of them continued to stare at me, their eyes swimming with pout shine. I pulled my face into an incredulous expression.

"You guys seriously want me to dress up as a guy, attend this school, and spy on a bunch of douche bags in sweater vests?" I asked, throwing my hands into the air. Maggie thought for a minute.

"Well, yeah that just about sums it up for ya." she said bluntly, turning to Devon who was nodding right along with her. I could not believe my friends. I sank back down to the ground, eventually sitting down on one of the cement blocks they use to mark parking spaces.

"How in Ozzy Osbourne's name are we even going to get me registered for this place? Dressing me up as a guy will be easy enough, but you need all sorts of paperwork, and high grades and shit. None of which I'm going to have." I pointed out, trying to worm out of this mess. But, of course, Maggie always had some sort of plan. Whether it be made up as she went along, or previously planned, she always had one.

"Well, see...I was just thinking about that. And I think I have an idea that might actually work. This won't take very long. No more than two and a half weeks. So...we just get some sort of note or something saying that you'll be gone on some trip for the first two weeks of school. I'd say...studying abroad program would work out fairly well." I just laughed.

"Right...and when they call my mom and ask her how my trip in Japan is going, what happens then?" I asked, trying to make Maggie realize the obvious. It didn't seem to be working very well.

"Well, we'd have to make your mom fall for it too, dummy." Maggie said, her voice coated with pointedness.

"Hey..." Devon stepped in suddenly. "Doesn't St. James let in a week earlier than the other school's, 'cause the last week of their school year is a retreat or something?" I heard Maggie gasp.

"Oh my god! It's so freaking perfect, it's unbelievable!" she exclaimed. I groaned as she got up and did her happy dance. "It's so easy. So we just tell your mom that your coming on a trip with me to my cabin or something. And really, you can just stay at my house the whole time and go to school!" I couldn't believe it. She was squealing. She grabbed another cigarette out of her jacket pocket and lit up, plopping down next to me on the parking space marker thingy.

"So what do you say, B? Will ya do it? For me?" She pouted again, accompanied by Devon. I scrunched my face up.

"Well...you got me out of and shit with my mom, but how do I get INTO St. James, anyways?" I questioned, looking for any loophole I could find. It was Devon who answered this time.

"Okay, I know this is really weird, but my cousin's best friend's brother died in a car crash six months ago. This is really mean, but he was a straight A student and they kept all his applications they were gonna send into different schools, and I think they were gonna apply to St. James. Why not use his application to get in?"

"We're using a dead guys application to get Blair into the school?!" Maggie exclaimed incredulously, drawing the attention of a middle-aged couple and their small child entering the Dairy Queen. Devon looked sheepishly down at his feet. "Cool!" Maggie giggled excitedly. I smacked my forehead with my hand repeatedly. Maggie grabbed it and forced me to look at her. "For me?" was all she said.

I groaned. Then thought about it. We only had a week and a half before school started again. This would be something I could do with my friends. One last adventure before we were locked away in highschool for however many months on end. "You know what?! I'm friggen bored with not being able to do anything truly exciting in this shithole town! Screw my conscience and rules and whatever! Let's do this!" Maggie squealed with delight and smashed her cigarette on the pavement, pulling me up excitedly.

"Oh thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!" was all she seemed capable of saying. I just rolled my eyes and headed towards the truck. It was getting dark, and the mosquitos were starting to bite.

"Yeah...you owe me big time, Mag." I hopped into the back of the truck, and Maggie climbed in next to me. She wrapped me in a huge, bonecrushing hug.

"You bet I do. I promise...I'll make it up to you somehow. I loves ya, afterall!" I giggled and hugged her back.

"I loves ya, too, Magpie." I laughed, using the affectionate nickname I had dubbed her with several years back. I pulled away slightly and called out to Devon, who was tossing his trash into a nearby trash bin. "Hey Dev, get up here and hug us! We're having a moment!" Devon laughed and leaped into the bed, joining in on the group hug. I sighed contentedly. "I love you guys." They both murmered illegible things back, but I could guess what they were saying.

"Forever?" Maggie asked the two of us, sincerity painting her gaze. We all smirked.

"And always." we said together.

A/N: Woah...that took way longer to right than I thought. We were reading the Twelf Night in English class, and I think that kinda shaped my ideas for this story as well as the dream. Not sure why. Thanks for reading. MCR will come into it later. Please review!!!!!! I love you guys!