A/N: For the record, this stery ain't finershed. :B I've just been posting because it's gotten too long and I'm impatient. So if you ever come back to find crap has been all switchered and discompoopulated, it's cause I've made revisions to crap further down in the stery that affected dis shizz. As a warning, sh*t's gonna be getting real from henceforth. So put on your helmets and/or thinking caps (the twirly thingamabob can double as a flying device so you can GTFO) on and be prepared. *Lion King's "BE PREPARED" roars*

In ze usual order, my lovely, wonderful readers :'D :

~People that are too sexy for their shirts~

Panfla

Gloria Spark

metalheadrailfan

writergirl97

Stephanie Ha

Nep2une

acosta perez jose ramiro

starrynights1987

Narcisa Le Fay

Ashlee

The love. :'D Special thanks especially to Narcisa Le Fay, who's reviews always make me faint with happiness. XD I LOVE LONG REVIEWS. But they're so rare. ;_; You are a gem! Thank you! :'D And to everyone else who has blessed me with a review. I want to reply back but I'm busy. D: I'll do it... eventually... Try to be patient with the impatient person that is me! xD

Also, metalheadrailfan, I hope I did Taro justice in this chapter. ._. I didn't have anything go off of but your picture and this is just how he seemed to me... If you wanted to fill out one of my "OC Character Profiles," I wouldn't complain. XD This is only his introduction anyway. There's still plenty of time for development! :D

NOW ONTO THE F-ING STORY ALREADY ANFKLNFLKNSKLFSNL

Disclaimer: I don't own shizz. *Gets drunk on root beer from depression* Except the people that I do own... I own them. *Passes out upside down from root beer overload*

Looking Up

Part 2

"He'll be perfectly fine," the doctor said in a cool voice, looking over his clipboard with a smile. "There was a fracture in the bone, but we put him in a cast and he should be right as rain in about six weeks. But that's just the average, since he's so young it could take shorter. Youngens tend to heal faster than us old cods." He laughed.

Arnold smiled a little awkwardly, not sure how he felt being called an old cod. "Uh, right."

"Yeah," he grinned at him, "but we'll bring him back in in a few weeks to see how it's healing. I'll put you down for an appointment around on the… third? Would that be okay?" He didn't even look up as he wrote something down on his board.

"Yes that's fine," Arnold sighed out in relief. His eyes sparked up with anxiety then and he gripped his hands around each other. "What about my wife?"

"Oh, Mrs. Shortman's fine, I'm sure," the middle aged man guessed carelessly as he wandered over to grab a muffin off of a food cart sitting across the hall. Taking a greedy bite out of it, he smiled at Arnold and spoke with his mouth a bit full, "The nurses are taking care of her as we speak."

Arnold let out a small tortured moan, leaning against the wall in exhaustion, both emotional and physical by this point. "I just don't understand how she could have gotten sick so fast. She was fine on the drive over here."

"Could just be motion sickness," the doctor said with a shrug, swallowing. "Or stress, perhaps a small panic attack. Particularly stressful events like these can set mothers very on edge."

"I guess that could be," Arnold sighed, looking down. He'd nearly keeled over after the nurses had taken Zack away for some tests, and his wife suddenly looked green in the face and was throwing up in the waiting room. He was very good at staying strong in situations like these, growing up in the boarding house with everyone fighting and screaming all the time had taught him that, but no man could handle watching the two things he loved most whisked away by a bunch of bothersome nurses because something was wrong with them. Helga had been brave, she'd tried to fight them off, but in the end they'd won out like they always did. Arnold was happy to have her taken care of but it almost wasn't worth being left alone in the waiting room with no way of knowing what was going on. Arnold looked up, biting his lip. "Can I see him now?"

The doctor looked almost startled at the request, and he bobbed his head up and down. "Oh, of course. He's just resting. He suffered quite the shock." He shook his head as if it were a shame, opening up the door for Arnold to walk in.

Arnold looked to him gratefully as he walked inside, before his eyes were assaulted with the sight of his son sitting on a hospital bed with his arm in a monstrous looking cast. He was staring down at the floor tiredly, his sunshine hair a wreck. He had a bad habit of messing it up when he was nervous so the sight of it thrown around as if he'd just suffered through a hurricane broke Arnold's heart.

His wife's blue eyes came up to rest tentatively on him as he walked the rest of the way in, his face wrinkled with concern. He didn't doubt his own hair probably looked like a golden fire, twisting in every which way and all over. He didn't care though as he finished the short walk and stood before his nine-year-old son, who was currently looking up at him with the wariest expression. This wasn't right, this wasn't Zack—Zack smiled too much and went the extra mile to screw with people's heads. Just this morning he'd put hot sauce in his coffee. Now he was starting to regret yelling at him.

He'd been so suspicious the last while, he realized, it didn't feel right to Arnold. He'd stopped being as welcoming to strangers, and his face was always searching out scrutiny when people looked at him. The similarity between his behavior and Helga's when she'd been his age physically hurt him. They'd worked so hard so that he'd never have to look like that—they never neglected him, they purposely avoided taking trips that were too far away, and if they did, they brought the kids with them. They'd made a promise when they'd first become parents to never have them deal with the pains they'd had to deal with when they were growing up, but now it was starting to feel like it was all falling out from under them. He didn't want to force his troubles out of him, but he was starting to feel like he didn't have a choice. He was too stubborn; too much like Helga.

Arnold took in a shaky breath, fighting to keep the smile on his face as he stared down into Helga's deep blue eyes looking up at him.

Zack spoke first, forcing a grin that wasn't really there, "Heya, Dad." He shifted over on the bed a little, mindful of the clunky thing wound around his arm, and gestured for him to sit with his right arm.

After a moment, Arnold did so, his weight bearing down on the mattress and causing Zack to fall into him. His good arm hit his side and Zack made a small grunt, shifting back over to his side of the bed. "You're gigantic," he commented half-heartedly.

Arnold indulged himself with a laugh, reaching over to pat him on the back gently. "I'm fully grown and this bed is ridiculously plush. You're just tiny is all."

Zack frowned at that, his eyes snapping to the wall.

"Hey," Arnold said softly, craning his head slightly to make him look at him, "I was just joking."

Zack looked over at him, not smiling but at least not frowning now. "I know." He seemed to be satisfied with this reply because he looked back down, visibly swallowing.

Arnold coughed a little to fill the silence, his eyes wandering the room from the blindingly white walls to the faded blue tiles. A less than cozy looking room, and not very interesting. "You know," he began quietly, the sound of beeping and faint footsteps easily ignored when he talked, "when times get particularly tough sometimes, my grandma had a song. You might remember it."

Zack didn't respond to that, but he did shift his eyes over to look at him. Arnold took this as encouragement to go on and smiled at him, pouring as much sincerity as he could into it despite the hellish day he'd had so far. Leaning over towards him, he sang as best he could despite his less than admirable singing abilities, "When life gets you down, wearing a frown, don't look away, look up…"

Zack's eyes were wide on him now from him suddenly bursting into song like that, it was so out of character, and he opened his mouth to protest when Arnold suddenly began again with his scratchy singing.

"'Cause memories true, come of the blue; you know the way—look up!" Arnold looked at him imploringly with a smile.

Zack blinked at him, before shifting his eyes up to the ceiling sarcastically. "Popcorn ceiling, not a particularly pleasant sight but I guess—"

Arnold cut off his silly comment when he began singing louder, wrapping an arm around Zack's stressing shoulders, "When skies are gone gray, things gone astray, don't hide away—look up!" He looked at him deliberately, raising an eyebrow to see if he remembered or not.

Zack just stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Arnold tilted his head away slightly, beginning for him, "I had—"

Zack suddenly burst into song beside him in interruption, throwing his one good arm into the air, "I had a bad day, nothing went right, I hate my dumb life, I'm down!" It sounded too much like a confession to Arnold so he tightened his arm around him and began singing promptly.

"When you're feeling under the weather, and the dark clouds are getting to you—make your troubles light as a feather, and soon you'll be seeing a patch of blue!" His tongue slipped awkwardly over the last verse, the tune sounding odd to him as he trailed off like a broken record.

"A bright patch of blue," Zack corrected with a laugh, and Arnold snapped his head to him with a pleasantly surprised grin, green eyes lit. Zack's grin softened and he shrugged by means of answer and took in a deep breath to sing with him, which Arnold happily obliged to.

"You… gotta look up, you gotta be strong, you gotta take things as they come!" Zack's youthful, boyish voice blended surprisingly well with Arnold's deep, gravelly tone, and despite themselves, they felt they sounded pretty decent as they finished off on a high note, "'Cause everything new that happens to you is better when you… look up!"

They burst into laughter, Zack falling into his dad as Arnold nearly fell over on the bed from it bouncing beneath them.

They were interrupted by the sudden sound of raucous applause, and their eyes snapped to the doorway to see Helga smirking at them with her arms crossed, several nurses surrounding her clapping them on with Cheshire grins.

Zack soaked it up with a beaming grin, jumping off of the bed to fall into a deep bow. "Thank you, thank you, you're too kind."

"You should start a duo," one of the nurses commented from he front of the group, her hair a bright blonde and eyes a vivid, steely gray, contrary to how she was laughing.

"Ha, with this old man?" Zack asked jokingly, standing and jerking his thumb in the direction of Arnold still seated on the bed with a grin. "Who would pay to see that—"

"I would," Helga volunteered, her smirk turning into a soft smile as she looked between her two loves. "Nearly killed myself the first time trying to get tickets the last time he sang on stage."

"You sang?" Zack asked incredulously, turning around to look at his dad with a strange look.

Arnold laughed, waving it off modestly. "When we were kids, for a talent show. Gerald was on piano, it really wasn't that big a deal."

"Yes, yes, modest comment, modest comment, but enough reminiscing," Helga started with a small flick of her eyes to the ceiling, walking into the room to stand before them, and both Arnold and Zack's eyes widened as all the nurses came bumbling in after her, practically clinging to her back with eager looks.

"Helga," Arnold said with an ashamed tilt down of his head, finally remembering that she'd been throwing up before, "I got carried away, I'm sorry." Standing up, he walked over to her and put a hand on her arm lightly, his face instantly twisting with a worry Helga thought he felt much too often for her liking. "Are you feeling better?"

"Oh, Arnold," Helga sighed lovingly, reaching up to touch his face, "I'm feeling much better. Two of my most loved people on the planet are safe and happy." She reached the hand not on Arnold's cheek to dance affectionately across Zack's hair, combing out the tangles without really having to think about it. Her head flew up to Arnold's then. "Speaking of loved ones, where are Josh and Phil?"

"Oh, they're being watched over in childcare just across the street," one of the nurses suddenly piped up in a nasally voice, her stribbly black head popping up over the other nurses and her brown eyes huge. "I'll go get them!" she volunteered eagerly, suddenly racing out of the room as fast as her stilt-like legs could go.

"Are we ready to go already?" Zack asked with a surprised blink.

"Well, I'm not sure," Helga said, looking down at him with a look he couldn't quite identify. "We can if you want, but first I have some news, and I want to be in a hospital when I tell you." She put an effective hand on Arnold's back, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you said you were okay—" Arnold began, concern beginning to stress at his brow again.

"Oh, don't you worry your ridiculous, football-shaped head over that, Arnold, I'm fine." She smirked at him, and he realized her face was paler than normal. Despite himself, Arnold's expression didn't change. Helga stared at him a moment longer, before she sighed and leaned up to whisper in his ear. Arnold listened intently for a second, before his face suddenly drained of all color and his eyes bolted open, his mouth a small o that barely allowed the passage of air. His pupils had practically exploded, and Helga grunted when he suddenly began to sway on the spot.

"Criminy, every time," she growled, doing her best to prop him up though his legs were suddenly beginning to give out.

Zack looked like he was ready to try to help, but Helga shook her head at him quick, throwing her hand up to him to stop. "No, Zack, your arm's hurt. It's okay, I can—" Arnold suddenly fell straight back onto the bed, nearly crushing the mattress all together, and Helga fell with him with a squeal. Grunting as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, she propped herself up on her elbows to look down at his face, now fallen into a shocked slumber.

"Geez, what did you say to him?" Zack asked in disbelief, jumping up on the bed to inspect his father.

Helga laughed at the question, as if it were the most hilarious thing she'd heard all day, and snapped her smirky eyes over to his own. "Oh nothing major… Just told him I'm pregnant."

Zack's jaw flew out the window

"Okay, what happened?" a tiny voice groaned in the doorway, and everyone looked back to the doorway to see Josh looking at them all exasperated, holding a small Phil by the hand that wasn't currently residing in his mouth.

Zack's eye twitching was the only response given before everything went black to him.

"Mommy, mommy," Amanda squealed, jumping up and down on her feet with her pigtails bouncing in tune with her high leaps, "is there going to be cake and cupcakes and cookies and—" her pupils suddenly went to the size of Jupiter, sparkling like a newborn star, "chocolate turtles…" She breathed it like a prayer, immediately standing still.

Helga sighed, raising a hand up to flip her bangs out of her face. To think she'd willingly signed up for this crap.

"Did someone say chocolate turtles?" Phil suddenly piped up from the top of the stairs, coming down.

"No, no one said anything about chocolate turtles." Helga put a hand on Amanda's head to ensure she wouldn't start bouncing again, and gave them all a testy look, her foot tapping. "Arnold went up to get the present out of our closet so everyone just shut up until he comes back. And Amanda," she looked down at her sternly, "yes, there will be cake, and no, you cannot eat all of it."

Amanda pouted, crossing her arms.

"Whatever," Phil muttered, jumping off the last step to the bottom floor and leaning against the wall.

"I don't know why everyone is so touchy—" Zack tried to comment, smiling with a tease in his eyes.

"Hey," Helga snapped, whipping her head over to him with a glare, "I don't remember telling you you could speak!"

Zack let out a huff of breath, his eyes wandering away in mirth. "Terribly sorry, ma'am, shan't happen again."

Ham coughed, elbowing Zack in the arm to catch his attention after Helga had turned back around. He whispered as discreetly as he could, "We could make a break for it, you know."

Zack eyed him, licking his chapped lips before replying quietly, "I'm listening."

Ham clasped his hands in front of himself, trying to look innocent as he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "The cars are too small to fit all of us without having Amanda in one of our laps—if we're adamant enough, we might be able to convince them to split us up in different cars. All we have to do is make it in Dad's car, confuse him so we're a little late, then slip away right as we show up. The arcade's just a short walk away from their house, it'd be easy."

"Ooooh," Zack winced at his sloppy planning, "sounds risky, and if Mom found out—"

"Dad knows how strict Mom is, if we butter him up you know he won't tell on us—"

"But Mom will notice, she notices everything—"

"We'll make Phil make an excuse for us, the house is crowded enough—"

"Like Phil would do that—"

Ham grinned, leaning over towards him with a glint in his eye. "He will if we have blackmail."

Zack raised one half of his brow at him, skeptical. "You have blackmail on him?"

Ham shook his head, holding back a laugh. "No, but I know you do."

"Hmmm," Zack mulled this over, his eyes wandering away in thought. He did have blackmail on Phil, mountains of it, some of which that would bring him to his knees should he want, but Zack wasn't as sadistic as the little scoundrel. He knew most everything about everyone but he kept it to himself unless he absolutely had to use it, whether it be to get something he wanted or to simply remind them who was boss. This would be one of those times. Birthday parties at the Johanssens were always especially grueling, what with having to sit on the floor and eating strange, scary-looking foods and plus Jaron whining the entire time no matter how much Zack whined back.

Still, at the same time, he didn't want to just abandon his best friend. He'd clearly been trying not to think about it all day if he hadn't spoken a word about it to Zack, so he'd probably spontaneously combust if he didn't have someone to screw off with at the party. He'd be stuck talking about cheese dips with Amanda or something. Zack shuddered at the thought.

"I really don't know, Josh," Zack said unsurely, before something occurred to him and he snapped his eyes over to Ham's, one side of his eyebrow cocked suspiciously. "Since when are you into blackmail and sneaking off anyway, Mr. Goodie-Track-Shoes?"

Ham looked swiftly away, shrugging. "You have your reasons, I have mine."

"Ohhh, I see," Zack practically giggled, his fingers dancing over each other in enthusiasm. There was a story there. He made a mental note to find out all about it. It was harder to get blackmail over Ham because he rarely did anything wrong—the majority of his stash were his constant attempts to get a one-up on him, which, to be frank, never worked out and never would, so there wasn't a lot of meat there… ironically enough. So this was a delightful little breath of fresh air.

This was dashed away when Helga said, in a painfully calm voice as she stroked Amanda's bangs out of her face, "If you two try to make a break for it, I swear I'll have your butts chopped off and hung above my mantle before sundown."

Both their faces went white, and they scrambled to say at the same time, "We weren't—"

She cut her eyes at them, effectively shutting them up, and said drolly, "Right, of course not."

"All right guys!" Arnold's voice suddenly came as he bounded down the steps, a shiny-green wrapped box in his hand. "Let's go!"

"No getting out of this now," Ham muttered shakily, staring as their father knocked on the solid whitely painted wooden door, the sounds of laughter and chatter audible even through the thick walls and windows.

Zack sighed out a long sigh, before throwing a grin on his face and straightening up his posture. "It would appear not. Nothing to do now but make the best of it." As soon as the sight of Gerald's face came into view, Zack paraded his way inside and right past him, taking in the room. Black and white streamers were draped across the walls, colorful confetti dribbled across tables and furniture, and a banner hung up on the main wall reading, "Happy 17th" with some Japanese lettering beneath it that Zack didn't care to even attempt reading. People scattered the room, and Zack's eyes darted around in a furious attempt of finding anyone he knew.

"Yes, come right on in, Zack," Gerald said with dry amusement, his lips quirking.

"Don't mind if I do," Zack laughed, spinning around to grin at him humorously.

"Manners, Zachary," Arnold warned him, walking into the house with present still in hand as the rest of their family followed in after him, Helga walking over to stand beside him.

"Ohhh," Gerald pretended to leer with a grin, bringing his hands up to imitate claws, "the big bad Arnold says no fun is allowed at a birthday party." Gerald burst into a deep laugh, clapping Arnold on the back as Helga snickered. "You'll always be a party pooper, Arnold."

Arnold flushed, giving Gerald one of his infamous, unamused looks. Helga wrapping her arm around his destroyed any traces of annoyance in him, though, and he squeezed her arm with his, smiling at her.

"Hey, Turkey!" Gerald beamed, grabbing Ham into a strong hug that had him gnashing his teeth in nerves.

"Uh, it's Ham—"

Gerald pulled back, laughing, and rolled his eyes. "Of course I know that, I'm just messing with you. How have you been? Since Tori went off to college I hardly ever see you!"

Ham smiled a tiny smile that you had to use a microscope to see. "I'm great."

"Great!" Gerald grinned, grabbing Amanda up from the floor and laughing as she giggled. "Come on, guys, I'll show you where the food's at."

"There'd better be cupcakes," Zack heard Amanda mutter as Gerald stamped off.

"Zack!" a male voice suddenly screeched from behind Zack, making him jump a foot off the floor before dark arms were suddenly infused around his body.

Once he realized what was happening, Zack laughed, letting his best friend practically squeeze the life out of him. "Jaron, I was looking for you!"

Jaron suddenly let go him and Zack turned around to see he was glaring at him jokingly, tapping his foot. "Dude, you're late. I've been dying."

Zack laughed even louder, the cheerful atmosphere almost demanding it of him. "Sorry, man, you know how my family is."

"Yeah, and you know how mine is," Jaron despaired, throwing a look to the rowdy bunch in the main room.

"Aw, poor thing," Zack teased, walking over to throw an arm around his shoulders. He lowered his voice so he could ask in jest, putting a hand up to shield his words, "So where are all the women at anyway?"

Jaron snorted, throwing an amused grin in his direction. "Dude, don't even joke, it's not fair."

"Indeed," Phil's voice suddenly cut through their private joke and they both looked down to see he was standing right next to them, giving them a flat look.

"Philly—" Zack tried to fix what he'd said, grinning nervously.

Phil just put his hand up. "Don't attempt it, you'll only fail." He meandered off into the crowd then, muttering dryly beneath his breath, "Simpletons…"

Zack blinked as his youngest brother walked away, then blinked once more after he was gone, before a sly smirk slid onto his face and he looked to Jaron again. "So anyway, the ladies?"

Jaron rolled his eyes, a wild grin appearing on his face. "Well, there is one."

Zack's eyes widened, having not expected him to take him seriously, before he chuckled. "I was only joking but—Seriously?" He chortled at the images bombarding his brain, withdrawing his arm from around his friend to put his hands on his knees for support.

Jaron snapped his eyes to him in surprise, his mouth open. "Ah, dude, not like that. But I did kind of sort of impulsively invite one girl." His eyes wandered away in thought of said girl, a small smile curving at his lips.

"Jaron, you dog." Zack chuckled, standing up straight to grin at him. "Who?"

A finger was suddenly shoved directly into his face and he went cross-eyed. "You…"

Zack's jaw dropped as his blue eyes wandered up to meet two flaming green ones, attached to a pale face and a hideously set mouth. His brain stuttered to a stop and for a few seconds, he was sure he was in space, before it sped up to ninety and it clicked all at once, nearly shattering his brain in realization. His eyes smashed to Jaron's grinning face and he yelled, gesturing to the beast, "Her?"

Jaron's grin barely twitched at the exclamation, a small laugh even daring to escape his mouth as if this was funny. "Well she wanted to talk to you so I told her you'd be here—"

"Why would you do that?" Zack's voice came as an incredulous squeak.

"Hey, Captain Crap Head," Pam yelled, shoving her finger further in his face, "I'm trying to yell at you!"

Zack gave her a disinterested, flat look. "I'm sorry, but if you're going to make comments like that, you're also going to have to supply me with some craps to give. 'Cause really, I'm coming up dry over here."

Pam growled, throwing her arm stiffly at her side so she could glare up at him. "How can that be even a little true when you're so full of shit? All I've been wanting to do is talk. Why are you making such a big deal?"

"Yes, Zack," Jaron said in a professional voice, stroking his chin as he drifted over to stand next to Pam, putting on his best distinguished gentleman face, "why? Reveal your feelings."

Zack groaned, putting a hand to his face. Of all the terrible things he'd thought would happen at this party, this had not been one of them. But of course, he'd only expected mild annoyance, not horrendous, life-shattering distress.

Pam seemed to sense his pain because her angry expression twitched, before it fell all together and she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Look, I'll leave you alone if it's so important to you—"

"Thank you!" Zack suddenly burst, his arms flying out like he was welcoming a herd of angels singing the hallelujah chorus.

"—for tonight," she finished with a stubborn emphasis, destroying his joy in two seconds flat. "I still want to talk to you, but I'll stop badgering you for one night, just to give you some time to get used to the idea of me," she leaned forward into his face, her eyes cutting themselves sharply, her voice quieting, "never leaving you alone until you tell me what grade you got, Monobrow."

Zack's face blanked at the threat, before a cocky, crooked grin sprung onto his face, much to her surprise. "Oh, I couldn't even imagine going a day without your sunshiney face, buttercup—Oh, wait, yes I can, that was two days ago." His eyes skipped into the distance nostalgically, falling halfway. "Good times."

Pam slapped him in the arm as hard as she could manage, making his eyes snap back to her in offense. She grinned triumphantly, crossing her arms over her chest as she shrugged her shoulders. "Just because you're not a violent person doesn't mean I can't be." She turned around then and stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder one last time, before walking off back into the swarm of mad people.

Zack's brain fizzled and popped like bacon, words he didn't even know he knew coming out as a harsh grumble from his mouth.

The sound of Jaron laughing woke him up from his frustrated haze and he looked over at him, only to be further angered when he came to see his face filled with mirth at his anger. "Dude, what is this all about? We've been friends for six years now and I've seen you angry more times in one day than in the entire duration of our friendship. What dirt does she have on you?" He laughed incredulously, throwing his head back.

Zack snapped his body in his direction, his shoulders turning to stone. His left arm twitched erratically and he took in a shallow breath, trying to reclaim his sanity. Once he felt a little more himself, he flew forward and grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him in sheer panic. "Why would you invite that witch? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!"

"Shhh!" Jaron pushed him away, his brown eyes wide and shocked. "Come on, you know what people will think—"

"Jaron," Zack whined, "I don't have time for your insecurities right now, you've seriously screwed me over."

"Why?" Jaron asked with a furrow of his eyebrows, putting his hands on his hips. "Why is this so bad? I thought you were Zachary Shortman, an impenetrable wall of smoothness—"

"That will crumble like raspberry cookies if she finds out," he whispered fearfully, trying to chew his bottom lip off and eat it. His eyebrow narrowed then and he crossed his arms. "And moreover, if I'd have known we could just invite people at random I'd have brought Sophie—"

"Oh hell no." Jaron scowled, cutting his arms in the air. "You always get all weird when Sophie's around, you're no fun. At least with Pam I get a little entertainment." He chuckled.

Zack's jaw fell, and he bared his arms out to him in shock. "But Jaron, I thought we were best friends, partners in crime, would-be-lovers—"

"Up up up." Jaron held up his hand, bowing his head down and closing his eyes. "I am a man first, and I need my space, and my kicks." He let his hand fall and opened his eyes then, trying to smile one of his more characteristic grins. "Besides I just think you're being overdramatic. She's not so bad." He licked his lips, putting on a serious face.

"I forbid you from seeing her," Zack deadpanned, his eyebrow going in a straight line across his eyes, completely swept of amusement.

Jaron gaped like a fish, sputtering, "But, dude—"

Zack smirked suddenly, and Jaron almost would have been relieved because it was one of his usual broad, sinful, I'm-holding-all-the-cards smirks and it made him look much more himself, but it was one of his broad, sinful, I'm-holding-all-the-cards smirks, so instead his eyes widened and he looked around in terror.

Then the reason for his sudden smugness shouted his name, a voice that could make even a black man turn white in the face, which Jaron almost did.

"Zack!" A tall, broad-shouldered man suddenly grabbed Zack up in a spine-crushing hug, but Zack was used to them so he just laughed and hugged him back. "Taro!"

Taro let him go and took a step back, grinning largely and proudly. He flipped his long, dark hair out of his eyes and reached back to tie it up in a ponytail, laughing as he did so. "It's been giving me problems all night."

Zack laughed along with him, ignoring Jaron's stiff, big-eyed face as he watched. He nudged Taro in his arm as he joked, "Maybe you should put it up like your dad…"

Both Taro and Zack glanced over to where Gerald was spraying practically an entire can of hairspray into his hair to keep it up, before fluffing it a little with his tongue stuck out and grinning in satisfaction when he felt he had it right. He hid the empty can under the table then and beamed at his guests as if nothing had happened. Taro and Zack looked back to each other then, before bursting into laughter.

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," Taro chuckled, finishing tying his hair up and allowing his hands to drop back to his sides.

"Good, we don't need two Johanssens hitting their hair on the ceiling fans," Zack quipped, letting out one last, hardy chuckle before simply grinning. "Happy birthday, by the way! Jaron was just telling me what a great turnout you had." He looked around at all the guffawing teenagers crashing into each other like drunken mules in their attempts at dancing and mingling and almost had to smirk.

"Is that so?" Taro asked as if this were very interesting, raising an eyebrow to his little brother, who went even stiffer, if that were possible. He grinned then, stepping over to grab him around the neck and give him a hard noogie in his fluffy hair, laughing as he struggled and made strange, enraged noises. "That's my little brother!"

Jaron managed to wretch his head out of his brother's beefy arms and gave him an outraged, twitchy face, before he pushed the expression from his face and replaced it with something akin to impassiveness. He stood stalk-straight. "I didn't ever actually say that, but okay."

Taro laughed, pushing his much shorter, scrawnier brother in the arm and nearly making him fall over. "Always so shy!"

"So did Kori manage to come down for the party?" Zack asked, mercifully taking the attention off of Jaron.

Taro passed him a regretful glance. "Nope, I'm afraid not. But Japan is a long ways away, so I can't fault her for it. I just hope she knows how lucky she is." Taro pretended to grumble to himself, before chuckling. Taro had always been very enthusiastic when it came to his Japanese heritage, and was always trying to find new ways to become closer involved with it. He even wore a white hachimaki in a thin band around his head to keep his hair back, with the typical Japanese flag symbol directly in the middle of it, which he always said he wore as a symbol of the great effort he put into everything he did. Taro was never one for doing things halfway or with a lazy hand, and he was quite confident in his abilities. His slanted eyes lit up then in all their warmth, and he added, "But my aunt and uncles managed to make it. Uncle Jamie-O's been enjoying himself. He's nearly cleaned out the refrigerator of everything but my mom's leftover sushi."

Zack's eyes widened in genuine interest. "Really? Could I have it?"

Taro laughed. "Knock yourself out."

Zack grinned at the permission, rubbing his hands together. He smirked then as he realized exactly how he'd worded that. "Ha, I'd try but I don't know if I could manage it with fish that's been cut up into bite-sized bits. Thanks, though, I love your mom's cooking," his smirk strengthened, "or lack of it anyway."

Taro scratched a little at his soul patch, smirking a little in return. "Whatever you say, Zack. Just try not to make yourself sick like last time, and lay off the sauce, I'm saving it to take with me when I head off next week. It'll go great with the fifty pounds worth of chicken ramen I'm taking." He chortled.

"Couldn't possibly have come any sooner," Jaron mumbled under his breath, his eyes away.

"And I'm going to miss my little brother," Taro fretted suddenly, grabbing him into a one-arm hug and pulling him into his side, making his eyes pop open as wide as they could get. "He's going to be home all alone now. He'll probably just lock himself in his room and never come out again. He can get so involved with that computer." His eyes rolled up and he grimaced.

Zack smirked at Jaron's horrified expression. Revenge was always one of the sweetest things to Zack, because he rarely had to do anything to initiate it before it just came right along on it's own. He supposed it was just Karma scratching his back for him, though he wasn't sure why. He wasn't exactly what one would call 'good and pure,' but he also didn't think he was a bad guy—maybe somewhere in the middle. Either way, he still wasn't the type of person one would think Karma would have high enough respects for to be giving him such an easy time. Sometimes he thought it may be because of his dad, or maybe even his beautiful girlfriend, but he often wondered when Karma would finally give up on him and bite him in the back for how much pleasure he took out of being a jerk. He wasn't worried about it, though, because he wasn't worried about anything. Somehow he just knew everything would always work out for the best. His smirk still in place, he replied almost sinisterly, "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I'll keep him plenty busy."

Jaron gave him a scathing look, and if Taro wasn't still right next to them holding onto him like a teddy bear, Zack just knew he'd have yelled out, "Mutiny!" The thought made a grin pop onto Zack's face, which then made Jaron scowl harder, which made Taro… Well, he didn't notice so he just grinned. Taro was a loveable guy, ridiculously intelligent and great at most anything he did, but one thing he wouldn't ever be was observant. Zack guessed it was simply because he didn't want to see a problem, because despite his behavior sometimes, he made it very obvious on a regular basis that he loved his brother. Jaron just didn't like him, though, for a multitude of reasons that he'd laid out for Zack one evening after their pizza night years back—he'd even had charts made up. Jaron was nothing if not thorough.

Reason A, according to him, was because he was constantly bringing attention to his supposed 'nerdiness.' Zack had bit his tongue against saying he was only teasing him, because he knew how sensitive Jaron was about the subject and didn't want him going off. Reason B was because he was a nerd too, but he somehow managed to make people like him for it. Zack wasn't all that clear on that one, but apparently Taro could get away with being smart and cool, something Jaron had struggled with his entire life and found to be completely improbable. So in other words, he was jealous, but Zack would have been thrown out of his house forever if he'd pointed it out. Reason C was because he broke the scale model of the Starship enterprise he'd crafted when he was six—or something else long ago and no longer relevant that he was holding onto for dear life. There were other reasons but Zack had zoned out through most of them. He hated negativity and didn't understand why he couldn't just shut up and get along with him. It had scared him, though. He teased his brothers all the time. Did they secretly hate him for it? If so they never gave any indication, they never looked at him any differently or in a dislikeable manner—well, except Phil, but he was just naturally like that. A scowl from Phil and words of discouragement meant he loved you, enough to point out that you were an idiot.

In any case, Zack was enjoying himself too much and decided it was about time to backtrack. "But hey, Taro, I'm sure Josh is looking for you—"

"Hammy?" Taro perked right up, his grin widening at the idea of talking to one of his closest jock friends. "Agh, good point, I've been wanting to talk to him." He immediately released Jaron, who drew in a large breath of air like he'd been drowning, and began off into the crowd of crazed people, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll talk to you later, Zack!" He grinned at the shorter of the two. "Little brother!"

Zack grinned back his biggest and brightest, waving his arm at him as he left. "I'm holding you to that, Birthday Boy!"

As soon as he was out of sight, Zack became acutely aware of the eyes scalding into the side of his face. Turning to investigate, he found one of the most flat, unamused faces on Jaron he'd ever seen. Zack just beamed at him. "Payback's a bitch, huh?"

Jaron tried to grind his teeth to dust. "How could you—"

"Hey, I got rid of him before it got too bad." Zack fluttered his eyes at him, simpering. "I am a merciful god, yes? But you still had to be punished for your insolence." Zack broke out of character and laughed, throwing his head back. "Don't think because you're my best friend you can get out of that—"

"Jackass!" Jaron slapped him in the arm, most likely because he saw Pam do it earlier and knew he could get away with at least that, and then threw him one last scowl before swiveling on his heel and stalking off.

Zack's jaw dropped in mocking before his hand flew out in reaching for him. "Baby, come back! The night's are long and cold without you!"

Jaron yelled over his shoulder just before he disappeared into the kitchen, "I want a divorce! Let your ass freeze!"

Zack just broke out in cackling, falling against the wall from the sheer force of his laughter before just sliding away to the floor.

Jaron made it his mission to avoid him for the rest of the night, which Zack was perfectly okay with. This wasn't the first fight they'd ever had and it certainly wouldn't be their last so Zack didn't bother himself with worrying too much. He'd try to talk to him one last time before they went home and if he still wouldn't cooperate, he knew he would in the morning. He always woke up guilty for some reason. Zack assessed that mornings were his weak points and had been keeping note of it ever since. Details like that always came in handy.

In the meantime Zack was enjoying himself. Most of Taro's friends were a lot like him—big and kind of brutish looking but good guys overall. Jocks, mainly. Zack hadn't played sports seriously in years but he still enjoyed hearing their stories, and most everyone got along with him. Zack had a reputation of getting along with everyone because he took everything as a joke and had a highly contagious laugh. Nobody liked drama and Zack had a way of diffusing it before the bomb could even think to drop, which came in very handy when he was around at least sixty teenagers who all thought it was their job to start drama. That was the main problem with jocks—they were too prideful and too at the ready to beat someone's face in if they offended them. But Zack had an ego, too, and his trumped theirs because he wasn't even a little insecure about it. He readily agreed with insults and was always handy with a, "But you know you love me."

Pam observed all this closely, biding her time for the right moment to jump in. She said she'd leave him alone, but they both knew it was only because of that grade, so the way she saw it, as long as she didn't bring it up she wasn't really breaking anything. She didn't really know anyone else here—most of these guys were huge and much older than her and she really wasn't comfortable making conversation. At least Zack was her age and not all pumped up with bulgy muscles and looking at her like fresh meat. Plus she was still anxious to get information out of him, whether he knew it or not, especially now that she thought she knew him a little better. He was so easygoing—why did he suddenly turn into an enraged freak when she brought up his grade?

But before she could find the chance to talk to him, the universe exploded before her eyes.

Leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, was the most attractive male specimen she had ever laid eyes on.

Dark golden blond hair falling in light, fluffy tendrils around his oval face, the deepest, richest blue eyes she was sure any mortal had ever witnessed, a nice, even tan to flawless white skin, and a grin that could explode a hundred girls' hearts with just a glance. His physical prowess was obvious but not in overabundance like the rest of these meat heads. He looked impressive, but like he wasn't bragging about it—modest, Pam might say. She was assuming things about him when all he'd done was smile, which was ridiculous but with the way her heart was pulsating she felt she couldn't help it.

Pam immediately had to physically push her jaw back into place for fear she'd drool a small kiddy pool in the middle of the room. "Zeus, why would you send Adonis here now?" She blinked a couple times, knuckling her eyes.

"Having fun imitating a statue?" A laugh came from behind her, resounding in her ears.

Pam blinked again, not bothering to turn around. "Monobrow?"

His smug face came into view at her side and he rolled his eyes. "It's Zack actually, but sure, Ginger."

She felt her mouth twitch before she replied plainly, "Yeah, well, my name's not Ginger, so I guess we're even, Zack."

His smirk remained as he stood straightly beside her, his hands behind his back making her all the more wary. "Fair enough."

She became aware of how surprised she was then. He must have become very at ease since their last encounter to approach her like this; he looked totally free of concern. She guessed it was because of her promise but still she was surprised. She found herself asking, "Why are you here? I thought you thought I was Satan's spawn."

Zack snorted almost thunderously, catching her off guard, and he smirked all the more. "I do, but since you're bound by your word for the rest of the night I thought I'd try my luck at a little payback for all the hell you've caused."

Pam eyed him, not liking where this was going and really not liking how cocky he looked. "And how exactly are you planning on doing that?"

Zack continued to smirk at her for a little longer, and just as she was about ready to yell at him to stop looking at her like that he flicked his eyes away. She looked to where he was looking and felt her heart nearly pop again at the sight of Hotty McHotterson still making happy conversation with Taro. She licked her lips without thinking.

She was snapped out of it by the sound of ear-splitting laughter. She snapped her head over to see Zack had thrown his head back and was laughing outright at her. Her face went beet red as she thought of how she must have looked to elicit such a reaction. She slapped him in the arm. "Shut up!"

Her slap woke him up and he glared at her. "Hey now, no touching the merchandise."

"Right, I forgot how fragile they are." She tried her own smirk on him, placing her hands on her hips.

He blinked at her, a tad surprised, before he copied her actions and smirked right back, his easily matching her own. "Not fragile, just sharp, and I'd hate for you to get cut, poor little thing."

Pam involuntarily screeched and pushed him hard in the chest, nearly making him smash into the crowd. His arms flew in a panicked circle before his foot flew back and he managed to gain back his balance with a stumble. Dizzily, he looked to see her looking at him with a firm frown and eyes burning with contempt. "I am not poor, little, nor a thing, Monobrow!" she raised her voice, shoving her finger in his face.

Zack looked like he'd had just about enough of this and he slapped her finger away, infuriated. "You do realize you're speaking to a guy who has at least five inches on you and could easily pound you to dust, right?"

Her nostrils flared and she flew back with her arms blocking her upper body, outraged. "You'd hit a girl?"

He ground his teeth, his normally light, happy blue eyes going dark as night. "You're not a girl. But no, I wouldn't hit you, male or female, 'cause unlike you, I am not a freaking psychopath!" he burst out dramatically, flailing his arms at her, and scowled. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is you!" she stated furiously. "Stop laughing at me like that! It's not funny!"

Zack's eyebrow flew up on his forehead, before he smirked again, much to her irritation. "Aw, poor Pammy Wammy is getting all flustered over Hammelstein, huh?"

Pam's eyes widened. "Who?"

Zack laughed, pointing his finger in the direction of the babe magnet. "My brother."

"Your brother?" she yelled incredulously, thankful of all the crazy teenagers that made her loud voice sound so much less noticeable. Her eyes flew from Adonis to Zack, Adonis to Zack, casual confidence to smug bravado, oval head to unibrow, perfect physique to gangly tallness. She couldn't believe her eyes. "How the heck did that happen?"

Zack blinked at her, starting to look a bit uninterested, probably due to how long she'd taken processing what he'd said. "Yes, he's my little brother. I'd explain to you how exactly that came to be but I think I'll leave that up to Sex Ed."

"Little?" she questioned with a wide blink, still trying to gain any shred of comprehension and sense out of this information.

Zack blinked at her slowly. "Yes, little, by two years. How is this difficult to grasp? Are you seriously this thick-headed?" His eyes turned fishy. "You're a red head. I thought I was the one that was supposed to be dumb."

"Whoa, whoa, wait…" she waved her hand at him, her eyes shooting off in thought. "If you're his brother, which means you share the same parents, that also means you share the same house, which means you live together…"

Zack snapped his eyes in a baffled blink and did a double take of her, before he opened his mouth to undoubtedly say something very sarcastic when she cut him off by throwing her arms around him. He yelped and stumbled, unwilling to touch her even to keep his balance. She pulled back then, keeping her arms around him, and asked in a flushed hurry, "What's his name—where does he live—is his name Shortman too—what sports does he play—what grade is he in—why aren't you answering me—holy crap, is he single—"

Zack was stricken in horror, his mouth wide open. "What in the name of—Get off!" He pushed on her and she quickly unwound her arms from him, hopping back on the ground. Zack quickly went to work with dusting himself off then, a shudder ripping through his body and making him stiffen for a second. "Criminy, you have some serious issues, don't you?"

"You're one to talk." She rolled her eyes, thinking back on his psychotic behavior earlier in the lunch room. She snapped her eyes to his then, wide and earnest as she clasped her hands together. "Now please, his name?"

Zack sighed, not finding this particularly fun anymore as he answered, "His name is Josh but he calls himself Ham for some unholy reason. It's short for Abraham. He won't tell me why he insists on it, though. Everyone calls him it but me."

"Ohhhh," Pam purred, her eyelids falling gracefully half-lidded as her green eyes landed on him across the room, "I know why they call him Ham. It's because he looks good enough to eat." She licked her lips again, purring once more deep in the back of her throat.

Zack twisted his face in revulsion. "Ewww, brother love—and from another man, no less—"

"Hey," Pam shot her eyes at him, frowning as she smacked his arm. "I'm not a man, dork!"

Zack just smirked, suddenly finding this conversation much more enjoyable as he dusted off the sleeve of his arm. "Yeah well I'm not a dork, so I guess we're even again, Pammy."

Pam rolled her eyes. "Right, not a dork, sure—Jackass suits you better." Her eyes went huge as something occurred to her, and she couldn't control the grin that suddenly forced it's way onto her face even if she'd wanted. "Agh, jackass… Zackass… That is so your new name!" She threw her head back in laughter, finding the idea ingeniously hysterical.

Half of Zack's brow extended up at this, somewhat baffled and strangely impressed at the assessment. "Oddly appropriate actually." He shook his head then and threw on a grin, teasing as he leaned down to her, "But seriously, you did hear me when I told you he's like a full two years younger than you right?"

Pam's laughter subsided enough for her to frown a little, and she wiped some tears from her eyes as she looked up at him. "You were serious about that?" She coughed, trying to put on a face that better matched her emotions now; a more assured frown touched her face, a bit disappointed. "That's too bad."

Zack bit his bottom lip with sparkling eyes. "Ha, you sick pedophile."

Pam had to do a double take, she was in so much disbelief that he'd actually said that to her. A harsh gasp ripped into the air not a second later and she grabbed him by the arm, spun him around, and pushed him roughly into the nearest wall. Her voice came as a deadly screech, "I am no such thing!"

Zack blinked furiously as his brain caught up with his situation, his face half-pressed up against the wall. "Gah, what the—" He tensed, anger biting into him as he realized she was pressing him up against a freaking wall, a wall covered in hideous wallpaper no less. He immediately began struggling, enraged. "Get the hell off of me, man-woman!"

Pam found herself smirking amidst her ire and her ego couldn't resist taunting him, "Why don't you make me if you're so freaking fantastic, huh, Zackass?"

Her taunting tone rung in his ears like death metal, and before he even knew what he was doing he was yelling back, "Okay, I will!" His body snapped around, startling her off of him, and his hand flew out before she could get completely away and whipped her up against the wall beside where he was and forced his body into her back, crushing her against the wall. His laughter was more smug than usual, he almost felt guilty. "Ha, ha, ha! Who's the man now, baby cakes?"

Pam was blinking in a dazed rush. She hardly knew how she got there but she knew she was pressed up against a wall with gentle force. Even when he was physical, he wasn't violent, and she was almost caught more off guard by that than she was that he'd done it in the first place. As her position finished processing with her, she felt herself growl, "Don't ever call me that!"

Zack grinned wickedly into the back of her red hair. "Like you can stop me, Ariel, you're practically microscopic."

Their unpleasant world came crashing down when a panicked voice suddenly came from directly next to them, "What's going on?"

They both looked over to see Ham staring at them with his mouth open and his dazzling blue eyes round.

Pam's face turned six shades of red.

Zack noticed this and smirked devilishly, feeling revenge had just found it's way to him in the most perfect way possible yet again. He let go of her and put his hands up in surrender, allowing her to step back from the wall. "Nothing. Nothing at all." He slapped her on the butt then, making her squeak, and said just loud enough for Ham to hear, "Go get'm girly!" He walked off in a way that was almost obnoxious in it's nonchalance, whistling an upbeat tune.

Pam stared at Ham with her face the deepest shade of red it could go without her just plain passing out from the severe lack of blood running through her veins, utterly mortified.

Ham just looked at her very strangely, wisely deciding to keep silent. This wasn't the first time a girl had gone red in front of him, not by far, but he never knew how to deal with it. This was going to be embarrassing no matter what he did, so he just shut up and decided to let her direct how this was going happen.

But still, she just stared at him, her jaw unhinged and swinging.

It stayed silent.

Zack watched them stare awkwardly at each other from behind a wall on the other side of the room, snickering to himself. This was going even better than he expected.

"What the heck is up with you?"

Zack startled and whipped his head around to see Phil standing close to him, also seeming to be trying to hide himself from sight. His green eyes were focusing on Ham and Pam across the room with a raised eyebrow before he looked back up at him suspiciously. Zack just grinned and grabbed Phil to him, ignoring his disgusted noise and struggle as he announced to him, "Revenge is what's up with me! The sweetest kind." He breathed deeply. "Enjoy it."

Phil grunted, his face still twisted in displeasure as he tried to push himself away with little success. "Yeah, I know the feeling." He was already silently plotting his revenge on his deplorable older brother for daring to touch him. Of course, everyone plotted revenge against Zack at one point or the other, but no one ever succeeded—Phil was determined to be the first. He growled a little as Zack pressed him up against his side again. "Let go of me, Neanderthal!"

Zack tut tutted him and let him go, grinning at him. "Such a big word."

Phil gave him a dry look, trying to dust the scent of Zack off of him best he could. "Indeed. Now," his eyes went wide and interested as he tucked himself back into the shadows behind the elder, licking his lips in anticipation, "what revenge, what plan, what happened?"

Zack chuckled at his eagerness. Phil and him couldn't bond over much but these types of things were natural to them, and he knew Phil admired his work. Leaning casually against the back of the wall, Zack said confidently, "Just a little girl making the mistake of wandering into the lion's den again. No harm done." Zack wasn't about to recount exactly what she'd done or what she was still determined to do. Doing so would be revealing too much and the last thing he needed was Phil snooping around.

Phil hummed at this, seeming dully satisfied with the assessment, before he shifted his half-lidded green eyes back up to him. Still, he seemed bored as he asked, "And your form of punishment for her was to hook her up with Ham?"

Zack barked out a laugh, one half of his eyebrow raising up as he gazed down at the brunette. "No, her punishment was being humiliated in front of an attractive stranger."

Phil did a double take of him, looking decidedly confused. His voice was a little mechanical, "How is that so bad?"

Zack released a labored breath, still in disbelief at times that he could be related to such a girlaphobic baby. He shot down a ruefully amused glance to him. "Look, I know you're an asexual little weirdo, but you're just going to have to trust me when I tell you…" he kneeled down slightly and patted Phil on the shoulder seriously, "being embarrassed in front of people you like, sucks."

Phil was starting to get that crazed, enraged expression he got whenever anyone brought up romance but he took a breath and let it out in a sigh, and the look cleared away to subtle disdain. "You've lost your touch. I'm disappointed."

Zack raised his brow in bemusement. "Jaron was annoying me earlier so I got super pally with Taro in front of him."

Phil's eyes widened at this, before a grin spread across his face. "Now that is good!" He threw his head back in laughter, light brown hair flying back out of his face. Everyone in their family knew how sensitive Jaron was when it came to anything related to his reputation, and under normal circumstances people tended to skirt around the subject like poison. Zack doing something like that right in plain sight of him was a goldmine of hilarity and completely unheard of. "I'm sorry I missed that!" Phil snickered. "You should have taken pictures, had a video made. We'd have made millions off of that alone."

Zack couldn't help but laugh along with him, it was such a rare thing to hear Phil laugh, when suddenly he dropped it all together and his face was flat again. Zack stopped laughing as well and settled for a grin. All good things had to end eventually, he supposed.

Phil's voice rung sardonic as he spoke again, "But I still say this revenge plan is going to backfire. I've been hating romance long enough, I know how it works probably better than you do. I know the signs. This entire situation could be nothing more than a cute story to tell the grandkids in thirty years."

Zack snorted, his grin malicious. "Ah, but that is where you're wrong, baby bro. You've never been in love, it's a complicated emotion. If something begins too rockily, it could define the entire relationship. Besides, he's too young for her, and she knows that, and Ham's used to girls getting weird around him. He wouldn't be interested, trust me, especially not in that witch." He tried to hide his grimace.

Phil looked at him with an unreadable expression, his eyebrows furrowed in an almost troubled way. "Right. Never mind that they're chatting it up like old buddies now, or that Chris is nearly two years older than Amanda yet Mom and Dad seem totally enthusiastic about that."

"What?" Zack's eyes shot open wide and he whipped around to see that Ham and Pam were indeed talking totally normally now. He nearly choked. Zack considered Phil's words fully then and looked back to him, his eyes wide.

Phil sensed the question in his demeanor and rolled his eyes. His eyes went dark as he stared at him with a steely expression. "I see everything, oaf. Don't act surprised." He reached up and grabbed Zack by his head, turning it around to look at Ham and Pam with a gestured hand. "Look at the facts. They both wear red, their names rhyme, for Pete's sake, Pam is obviously attracted to him, and you know Ham has a thing for older girls. This is a disaster in the making."

Zack snapped his head back to Phil, causing him to take back his hand as he questioned incredulously, impressed, "You know her name?"

Phil's eyes wandered away almost coyly, his fingers dancing in front of him. His voice was sarcastically cutesy as he trilled, "Oh, perhaps—" His eyes practically slapped him in the face when he snapped his look back to him, his eyes wide in awe of his stupidity. "Doi, I know her name, didn't I just say it? I told you, I see everything. It's not like I have anything better to do at this party anyway. All anyone wants to talk about around here is sweat, girls, food, more sweat, more girls, more food, and for a reason I'd really rather not wonder at, baby powder." He tensed up in an odd pose and shuddered, grimacing. "These goobers make you look like a distinguished gentleman."

"Oh-ho, well," Zack shot up to stand taller, posing his hand out as he put on a more worldly, sophisticated face, his lips puffing out, "not even I can argue with that logic, Philly old bean."

Phil's eye twitched as he stared up at him. "Criminy, please don't go there. I beg of you."

"And why not?" Zack bubbled in his best impression of his rich classmate, Rueben Gammelthorpe-Wellington-Lloyd, keeping his expression. "I have the money, I have the resources—I can do whatever I wish."

Phil slapped a hand to his face and slid it down the side of his cheek, his eyes on the ceiling. "Oh, God made a serious mistake when he gave you free will." Sighing, Phil jumped up to grab Zack by his long ear and pulled his head down, pointing a firm finger at their brother and his apparent tormenter. "Focus and fix it, numb nuts! There are very few things I'm able to get enjoyment out of in my life and you are not taking this away from me!" He let go of him and pushed him in their direction with as much force as he could muster, though Zack barely budged, much to his irritation. "Go! Go, darn you!"

Zack just sighed lightly, as if this were nothing more than an inconvenience, and leaned over with his hand on Phil's head. "Now see, that's a no can do, Philliam. My work here is done, any and all repercussions will have to be diffused at a later date."

Phil growled almost savagely, giving up on pushing him and instead just trying to keep Zack's weight from crushing him. "Like when?"

Zack smirked down at him, the smirk that still sent wary chills down Phil's spine, much to his chagrin. "Oh, any time will do. We don't even know if we have a problem on our hands yet, though. Best to just let this flow to where it may, and if worse comes to worse, I'll just pull some dirt out on ol' Josheline and everything will go back to normal."

Phil's eyes went their full greenness. "You have dirt on Ham?" It was almost too good to be true.

Zack chuckled, examining his nails absentmindedly. "Oh, small things, here and there. But I caught a whiff of something rather juicy earlier today and plan on doing some digging. Soon, Phil, I'll officially have a one up on everyone in and outside of my class, and the world shall be mine." He took in a deep breath, only to cough when the overwhelming scent of birthday candles and sweat invaded his lungs.

Phil raised an eyebrow. "World domination? Seriously? How cliché. I'd have thought better… Although now in hindsight—"

Zack snorted, cutting him off and stood up straight, ruffling Phil's hair before putting his hand to his side. "I only meant it as an expression, don't you worry. World domination is highly overrated. I'd like more of a challenge." He took in a large whiff of the air surrounding them, realizing he did indeed smell birthday candles. He grinned as the meaning of this occurred to him and he shot an excited look down to Phil. "You ready to sing down there, Philly?"

Phil rolled his eyes with a small, exasperated huff of breath, and walked past him to where people were gathering, no longer interested in his older brother's existence. "Please, I'm always ready."

Singing happy birthday to Taro didn't take very long, as he silenced everyone thoroughly when he put his hands up before proceeding to chop the cake to edible sizes with a series of karate chops, laughing as everyone cheered him on and called him crazy. Jaron had walked off muttering after that point, and still refused to meet Zack's eyes. Zack just sighed before jokingly warning Taro that he had better have washed his hands, which he just laughed at. Before long the cake was nothing but crumbs and leftover icing, and it was time for gifts.

Arnold proudly presented him with his shinily wrapped present, seeming confident that he'd like whatever he'd gotten him from all of them. When he'd opened the box, a strange clunky, orange calculator fell out into his hand, and it took him but a moment to realize it was made to look like a basketball. Practical, Zack thought with a wince, but so weird—it was cereal prize worthy. Taro had put on a grateful face though and laughed it off, and Zack vowed to get him something different before the week was up. Despite it all, though, his father continued to grin stupidly with pride at his find, and his mother was left rolling her eyes and palming her forehead in the background.

Everyone dispersed back into mingling after that point, with people congratulating Taro on being seventeen and going off to college soon. Zack had already made his congratulations by this point so he found himself rather bored. Being around all these big, muscular types for too long always made him wary, and having each one call out his name when he passed and nearly knock him over when they slapped him on the back was starting to get to him. He had to keep grabbing his arm to keep it from shaking and he was afraid people might start to notice something was up with him.

He wasn't usually so easily brought back to those memories, but something about meeting Pam today had disturbed him on a deeper level. The red hair, the taunting, the grabby hands and punching and throwing him up against walls—and she kept giving him funny looks when he freaked out on her. Jaron, too, had been looking at him funny. Everyone seemed to look at him funny when he got angry, since it was so rare. Heck, he'd look at himself funny too if he could. He wanted to blame them but he couldn't. What reason did he ever have to be angry? He had parents that adored him, brothers he could joke with and a little sister that looked up to him like he was the sun. He had good friends, good grades, amazing family—his life was practically perfect. People would kill to have his life, and he'd been trying desperately to keep that perfect image up ever since he was a kid. He didn't want people to know he had flaws or weaknesses, or that he had a past that may be less than lovely. That was rule number one of being the notorious Zack Shortman—let no one know you're less than the best. Otherwise people start to get ideas.

He stared down into the glinting red liquid in his plastic cup as he sat on the couch of the living room, which had been partially blocked off in favor of the more Japanese qualities of the rest of the house. To Zack, this room was sanctuary. The couch was big and fluffy enough that you practically fell into it when you sat down, and the flat screen TV monstrous compared to the regular sized box one in their living room at home. Zack didn't care for the TV right now, though—that would cause too much of a ruckus, and he loved this room because it was always dark and almost always cut off from the rest of the house when there was something exciting going on. It allowed him time to shut his brain off and just exist, which he desperately needed at the moment.

That girl. He hadn't thought back on the fourth grade in years. He couldn't even remember the last time it had consciously crossed his mind. He'd boarded up all the passageways, painted over it all and put up a nice, blue wallpaper to keep himself and everyone else from ever getting in. Blue was good, blue was calming, blue was sanity. Zack gripped his shirt tighter, gulping down the last of his punch in one, large swig before crushing the cup in his hand. He stared at it, so effortlessly crushed in his fist.

If word ever got out about that grade, everything would crumble. Jaron didn't understand. He couldn't understand. They were best friends, they had no secrets with each other, but that didn't mean everything had to be out in the open. He trusted him with some of his more obvious, human weaknesses, but some things were just better left unsaid. Jaron had asked him once why he put up with his problems when he could, in his words, "be best friends with anyone he wanted," and all Zack could do was snort. Jaron was about as insecure as they came, but Zack didn't "put up" with any of it. He understood it.

Zack blinked out of space when he felt the cup in his hand fall to the floor, and he looked down at it for a while, his mouth open with his unsteady breathing. Briefly the thought crossed his mind that he should probably throw that away and go get something to eat. He doubted his mom would be up to cooking anything tonight, or his dad for that matter.

He laid down on the couch and closed his eyes instead.

A/N: Yeah... am I nervous about the next installment? Mehbeh. *Poker face* That's when ship gets real. Like really real. But what can I say? I wanted Zack to have a dark past, I have for several chapters now. But don't worry, these next few chapters are just to give the characters background so they're a little more real, so they have to have SOME serious in them. I'll get back to more comedy latar. Ain't no thing but a chicken wing. XP SO READ AND BE HAPPY *Breathes fire*

Now then, in the last chapter I neglected to mention all the awesome crap the fans (OMFG I HAVE FANS FOR MY CRAPPY OC FIC) of this fanfic have done. XD :D I will proclaim you... my kingdom of epic bosses. *Holds scepter importantly with fancy mustache*

writergirl97's been writing awesomeness, as per the us.' :D She's kinda like my partner in crime here, 'cause when I'm not updating, she is. Which is great 'cause some people can get impatient. *Dry look to that part of the kingdom* Not that I can talk, hyuck! But I just love it. ;_; I get excited every time. XD She's also drawn some lovely pictures too! The entire situation is marvelous. XD Thanks, writer! ;_; Go look peeps! GO~

Panfla... Panny, Pan, Pan, Peter Pan, has drawn so many pictures. D: I can't even keep up! Idk what I've mentioned or haven't mentioned anymore. XD She has Amanda, Zack, Ham, PAMELLA, Phil—the whole kitten caboodle. XD SO FREAKING CHECK HER OUT 'CAUSE SHE'S AMAZING AND MAKES ME WANT TO HUG FLUFFY CATS AFNKANDLA. Thanks, friendy. :'D

Also, just recently, metalheadrailfan did a title card for my fic in traditional HA! lettering. :D It looks amazing! I'm still grinning about it. Feel free to check that out on Deviant as well. That chizz is legit. :D Thanks, man!

Of course all the epics had to be mentioned. Sorry for the monster A/N. XD :D Thanks all!

THE NEXT BIT WILL BE UPDATED WHEN I FEEL IT IS TIME. *Slams scepter against gong*

REVIEW!

And sterf :B But only if you want, I know this chapter is kinda crap xD You know fillers -_-