Dear Readers-

No excuses, but an explanation and a promise. The explanation is that writing for these two consists of mostly staring off into the middle distance and thinking up plot lines. Thinking takes time. The promise: I'll think faster.

A few of you asked what Jane's letter says. This is the letter Jane wrote to cheer Billy up when he got dumped for the first time. Jane finds it in Billy's room and keeps it with her at all times. When Ben upsets things at dinner, Jane knocks her purse over and Billy (ever the gentleman) picks up the contents and discovers she took it.

Here are it's contents (from a few chapters back):

"Dear Billy Nutter, Your brother is stupid. But that's ok 'cause you got me. That's all you need. And whether or not we get handcuffed an' married, you don't ever forget that. "

Forward reading.

~Clarissa

Chapter 11 Image & Circumstance

The most overused expression in the world is to 'be yourself'. It's pushed upon us, down our adolescent throats, until we can repeat it robotically without thinking twice about what the words really mean. Ironically, the fashion world can make it so tempting to be anything but yourself. It's so easy to slip on a character—a more outgoing and friendly and likeable personality—and lose yourself to a façade people love.

But, I guess the true test of a personality is whether or not it's real. And being yourself means being truthful, too. And that I was not. Of course, it was only a matter of time before they all began to figure out my secret. But once Jeremy knew, the rest began to fall like dominos, and I ran as they filed down after me….

Billy

I yawned and perused the scattered magazines on the coffee table in Jane's living room. After pushing aside the obviously over-read baseball periodicals, I noticed some scuff marks on the table. They were from my shoes. I rubbed at them a bit with my sleeve. So many late nights playing video games with Ben or watching movies with Jane…Sometimes I practically lived here.

I aimlessly flipped through a few issues of InStyle and Cosmo girl. Curiously, I started to read the headline: "10 ways to get a guy to notice you!" I skipped down to step four. "Dress suggestively." Five was "play games. If he wants to cuddle, pull away. Make him want you more." I shoved the magazine away from me with disgust. So this is why Jane acted weird sometimes…who writes this crap anyway?

Ben shuffled into view, scraggly and unshaven and quite the monster of morning breath. "Yo," I greeted him cheerfully. "You're here early," was his remark. "Waiting for Jane," I said. Ben missed the barstool a few times before taking a seat. "Hey, do you know if she talked to Gray yet?" I bit my lip. Jane hadn't given a straight answer about that, and I wasn't about to do her in. "Um, yeah." I looked away.

Ben stared at me for a moment. "C'mon, we both know she didn't." I grimaced. "OK, fine. But I'm sure she was going to do it today." "That's what she's been saying for the last few weeks." "Well, it's not the easiest thing admitting to your boss you practically broke the law and forged legal documents in order to keep a job not technically yours…" Ben tilted his head. "You're gonna defend her?"

I folded my arms. "Her, not this though."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ben narrowed his eyes.

"Only what you take it to mean," I answered slyly.

"Just promise you'll talk to her about it."

"Fine," I conceded.

"Billy? Is that you?" Jane called from her room.

"Her highness awaits," I said, grinning and saluting Ben as I skidded to Jane's door.

Jane

Billy was sprawled across my bed, watching me tear apart my closet with a bemused expression. "I don't get it."

I grabbed another armload of accessories and tossed them onto the pile. "Get what?"

"It's a Saturday. Why are we stuck here? Let's go out, have fun, do something. That is what I came for, after all."

I tossed another outfit reject on the bed. "Can't. The photoshoot, remember?"

Billy groaned. "Why you're making such a big deal out of this? I mean, no offense or anything, but they aren't even shooting you, right? Plus, if you played hooky for the day, I'm sure the boss would understand."

I looked at him like he was nuts. "Billy, this is Grey. She doesn't tolerate shenanigans. Plus, I'm actually looking forward to it. It's my first shoot, which means she trusts me, and that's a very good place to be…"

"Speaking of Gray."
"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Hey, calm it. I just think you should tell her."
"I'm gonna."
"Soon, Janey." He grabbed for my hand but I pulled away.

"I'll get to it."
"It's either this or get found out."
"I don't want to think about it, ok?" The sudden forcefulness in my tone surprised me.

"Fine." Billy could be obstinate too. I knew he wasn't giving up.

"Sorry," I confessed, all the anger draining from my face. "It's just that today is one of the most important days of my life."

Billy gave me a look. "Really, now…?"

I sighed dejectedly. "I guess that's a little dramatic. I'm not even going to be in the spread. I'm just the styling assistant."
"So why all the fuss? I mean, I think you look fine just the way you are."

"That's sweet that you think so," I tilted my head and blushed. "But seriously, Billy. Even the assistants have to fit in, and I just….don't." I grabbed another pile of dresses and piled them on the bed. Then I leaned against the edge and sighed. "Billy?"

His head popped up from beneath the garments. "Here."

"None of this will work."

"Why?"

"I'm having a fat day."

I cast a critical eye over my reflection in the mirror, sucking my stomach in and cinching my waist with my hands. I ran my palms over my curves and sighed dejectedly. While I didn't exactly consider my insecurities to be a problem, I couldn't help looking longingly at the centerfolds of Tyra pinned up on my closet door. "If only I looked like that…." I mused.

He scooted closer to me. "Don't say that," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

"But it's true!" I moaned. "I'm not perfect enough for them," I protested, then caught the look in his eyes.

"When are you gonna realize you're perfect to me?"

Jane

"Is this good?" I asked Carter hopefully, spinning around. He nodded, distracted. "It's fine. Um…"
"What?"

"Jane, the belt's on backwards."

I looked down. "No it isn't…" Carter grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, pointing to the model I was supposed to be dressing.

"Oh my goodness, wait!" I lunged into the shoot and photographer gave me an annoyed look. "Try to stay out of the frame," he barked. I nodded, embarrassed.

Suddenly, I heard a commotion. I turned to see India striding in, clad in a flowing shift-cut gown. It was so different from what she usually wore; we were all used to her skin-tight bodycon dresses. India was coming towards me, and I straightened up.

"New look?" I asked, trying not to look too curious. India glanced away. "I'm just trying something new."

"I can see that," Carter grinned, creeping up behind us. "LEAVE," India hissed, and he moved away obligingly.

"India!"

Jeremy was stalking toward us now, and with an icy glare India sent me scurrying away. "What?" she snapped. He swallowed uncomfortably and adjusted his bow tie. "I—I want to speak with you." "So speak." I pitied Jeremy, but not enough to intervene. "In private," he muttered through set teeth, and they hurried outside.

I was taking in the gorgeous Nannete Lapore accessory wall in all its glory when I heard a voice in my ear. "Good choice," Gray purred, and I jumped, almost dropping the jewel incrusted statement necklace in my hands. "Hi, Gray," I said, recovering. "What do you think?" I gestured towards the rack of outfits. She was silent for a long time, and I began to shift uncomfortably. Just when I was about to say something, she spoke.

"Jane, you're over-thinking this," she admonished me.

"I—you think so?" I chewed my lip nervously.
"I do. Reconstruct the last two looks, and easy on the belts. They're meant to accentuate the waist, Jane, not weigh it down."
"Right." I immediately began taking apart the look, swiftly undoing the buttons and layers, one by one. "It is good," Gray said generously. "You do have the eye; just go with your instinct."

I was passing through the café downstairs to pick up lunch when I saw Jeremy and India seated at one of the tables. Curious, I ducked behind one of the patio pillars and tried to catch snatches of their conversation.

"It's more complicated than that, India," Jeremy was saying. India pouted her lip. "Seeing as your priorities are obviously quite skewed…"

"What's that supposed to mean? He cried indignantly. "Only that apparently I'm not important enough to warrant a return."
"India, you know the company always comes first. Always."

"I never thought you believed that until now."

"Gray wants me back, and I'll take that chance in whatever form it's handed to me!"
India scoffed. "You know she's only taunting you."
"I'll take it anyway." I could sense the determination in Jeremy's voice.

"I don't see what good it'll do you. We both know she's addicted to Jane."
"Dear India, Jane isn't a drug." I smiled secretly.

"You're infatuated with her too, now?"

"I used to be infatuated with you, until this happened."
"Jeremy, don't you get it?" India's voice was a low hiss. "I didn't plan this."
"No one did. No one wanted it either."
"But it happened, and at some point you're going to have to be a man about it and step up."

"By the way, how is it all going?" Suddenly, the barista manning the Starbucks cart turned on his blender, and India's response was lost. What I heard next was Jeremy laughing.
"India, don't get me wrong. I'll support you because I'm no heartless chap, but when it comes to betraying Jane's trust, I draw the line."

"Wait," India said slowly. "what did you just say?"

"I've….said too much," Jeremy said soberly, backpedaling.

"Oh, no, by all means, continue. This I want to hear."

From behind my pillar I cringed. How was I going to get out of this one? I grabbed my phone and dialed by heart.

Billy

"You're kidding," I said in disbelief.

"Billy, you know I'm not. What are you doing?" I stared at the pile of unfinished I.D. badges scattered on my bed, intermixed with cigarette butts. From underneath I dug out Marx's Das Capital. "Reading," I said slowly.

"Great, so you're available. Look, I've gotta fix this and I can't let Gray find out about it or else I'm doomed before I can explain myself, and—"

"What's the magic word?" I teased.

"I need your help."
"Actually, it's Auf wiedersehen, but that works too."

"Nerd."

"Dear."
"So you'll help me?"
I sighed. "Janey, I'm not always going to be around to dig you out of these problems. You're going to have to figure out at some point that not every guy is going to bend over backwards to suit your needs."
"But—you—" Jane was confused, and I was beginning to feel bad.
"Listen, I'd like to help, but I need to….study." I wanted to kick myself. Lame excuse.

"Oh."

There was a pause.

"Billy, what am I supposed to do?"

"Just tell the truth, Jane. Please, do it for me." But she wasn't listening anymore, she'd hung up.

I ended up driving to Donovan Decker's anyway, mostly because I had nothing better to do and I knew Ben would kill me if I let this one go. An idea began to form in my head. One of the things I had learned when I was away was that when people didn't want to do certain things, sometimes you had to make them in order to show then what was right. I hated applying this method to my best friend, but it seemed like the only option. After all, I had promised Ben….

I grabbed a napkin and pencil from the glove compartment and when I hit the next stop light, I began to scrawl out the letters, taking care to make my handwriting generic enough not to be recognized.

Jane

The rest of the shoot had gone smoothly, or so I thought. Gray had been right, and once I edited the looks I felt so much more confident about dressing them on the models. It felt good to be on top, for once. My name was going to be credited in Teen Vogue as the assistant stylist. I was going to be published.

But of course, no day could ever be quite perfect. I couldn't ignore the fact that India probably knew by now, and if she didn't Jeremy would slip up sometime. I had to be on guard. Now, crammed myself into one of the stalls in the ladies room, and pulled from my purse a stick of Gray's lipstick I had smuggled from her drawer. As I balanced my compact and carefully outlined my upper lip, the automatic toilet suddenly flushed, startling me. My hand jolted and the lipstick zig zagged out to my cheek. I grasped the toilet paper holder, but it was empty. Typical. I knocked on the wall to the next stall. "Excuse me, do you have any extra paper?" I hand thrust something at me, and I realized it was an unused tampon. Gratefully, I wiped the stain off my face and exited the stall. Then I froze.

India was at the counter, shoving something into her purse. She meet my eyes in the mirror and it was a long second as I made the connection. I gasped. "Jane, stop!" she called after me, but it was too late. I was out the door, and pounding towards Grey's office.

"Gray!" I burst into the room, brushing past Birdie and her efforts to stop me. I spotted the boss instantly, in the adjoining meeting room. She seated at the head of the conference table, obviously in the middle of something. I tried the door frantically, but it was locked. "Jane," Grey acknowledged stiffly, standing. Her voice was muffled through the glass door. "Can this wait? I'm…occupied." She shook hands distractedly, and Donovan Decker came into view. I gulped but shook my head resolutely. "it's an emergency." Gray's expression changed. She came to the door and opened it a crack.

"What?"

I heard a commotion behind me, and turned. India was straining at Birdie, but the petite girl held her back, her usual perkiness replaced by surprising strength. "Go on," she mouthed to me. I stared at India, who gave me a look of utter helplessness. I knew I was probably ruining her, but at this point it was too late to stop. Billy had told me to just tell the truth, but were any of us really prepared for the consequences?

I turned back to Grey, who was waiting impatiently for my explanation. "India's not pregnant," I said quietly. "She lied."

It was hours later before Gray let me go home, but in a way I was glad she had made me stay. Of course, I'd had to take over all of India's duties as well as many of Gray's. The two of them had been cloistered in the meeting room for several hours, and they still weren't done when I had signed out for the evening. As I crept through the now silent building of Donovan Decker's, I passed by Jeremy's workroom. His drawing board lights were still on. I stuck my head in. "Jeremy?"
He looked up from his drafting work and sighed, motioning me in.

"Jane Quimby, I am so sorry about the other night," he said, and I could tell it was his sincerest tone. I dipped my head. "It's…ok."

"I just…I'm still in shock."

I hopped up on the desk and crossed and uncrossed my legs. "I think we all are."

Jeremy nodded, and I noticed for the first time the creases in his handsome forehead. He hadn't looked like that when he left.

"For what it's worth," I began consolingly, "You would have made a wonderful—"

Jeremy put his finger on my mouth. "Don't say it, I beg of you," he said, but there was a familiar sparkle in his eye.

I giggled. "Fine. So, are you sticking around?"
Jeremy shrugged. "It all depends on Gray's whims. Though kissing up to Diaz wouldn't hurt a bit." For a while I hesitated, wondering how to approach the topic. "So, what's my situation?" I ventured at last. Jeremy turned to me, worry commanding his features again. "Hope for the best. Imagine how Gray feels, it may seem like her entire team is turning against her. No, I know what you're thinking, but I know what I'm talking about when I say that's how Gray thinks. She's all about loyalty, and reliance, regardless of the circumstances."

"So…she probably feels like she can't trust any of us, then." "Well, unless you know something about Carter and Birdie that I don't…." I shook my head.

"Come on," Jeremy said suddenly, perking up. "Let's get out of here." I followed him out the door. "Where are we going?"

"I'm a free man," Jeremy sighed, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his collar. "I think this calls for some celebration."

"Actually, I-"

The night sky outside was dark, but not dark enough to hide Billy's silhouette, as he leaned against the building across the street—waiting for me. I paused, turning to Jeremy. "I…need to go." "Goodnight, love," he said, reaching for my hand. I pulled it away awkwardly and quickly walked away, chastening myself for not being more aware of his charm.

"Billy! You're still here?" I called, dashing across the street, holding down my short skirt in the breeze, and heavily breathing steam into the chilly air. "I thought you weren't coming!"

He slowly walked towards me, swinging his lanyard around his finger. "Come on, Jane," he said in a tired voice. "When are you going to stop fooling around?"

I gave him a confused look. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Billy shifted, not wanting to say but unable to keep quiet. "You ever gonna get serious about this?"
I was silent. I didn't know what to say.

He shook his head, but his eyes pleaded with mine. "You can't keep stringing me along here, Jane," he said quietly. "Despite what others think, I've got feelings too."

"Oh, you mean that?" My attempt at humor fell flat. He was in no mood for a joke. "It was nothing, I promise." But Billy's jaw was tight.
"I just want to take things slow," I protested weakly. "Yeah, but seriously Jane, this is ridiculous. Lulu was less trouble to be with than you."
"Ouch. I hope you realize I'm nothing like the—that—" He held up a finger. "You're not going to talk like that. But yeah, you're right. You two are nothing alike. Jane, I just need some reciprocation here!"

"I'm sorry," I sighed, and leaned into his open arms. "It's just been a long day."

Billy

I bit my tongue. It was hard to stay mad at a girl like Jane. One look into her dewy brown eyes and even the toughest dude could melt. And I liked to believe that was me. But as we walked home together in silence, I couldn't ignore the pricking feeling that she would hate me later. After all, I had gone and committed the ultimate offense. This would probably rank a seven on Ben's scale. Still, I tried to convince it was the right thing. I figured if I believed it long enough, it would become true.

"You're quiet," Jane remarked.

"Sorry, I was just thinking."
"About?"

"If humanity were not forced to correct its own mistakes, would it destroy itself?"

I could tell she was giving me a look, even though I couldn't see her face.

"I mean, what am I doing here?" I continued. "Do the ends justify the means? Can aimless youth actually take on direction?" Jane punched me in the arm, laughing.

"Ok, I have no idea what any of that means, but I will say this: You've gotten deeper, William."

I shoved her back, grinning too. "Still Billy, that part of me hasn't changed."

"Just don't grow up too fast," Jane said quietly.

"You'll keep me in check."

I swiftly turned right at the avenue and Jane had to run to catch up.

"Where are we going?"

I didn't answer; instead, I lengthened my strides, daring her to keep up. We continued this way until the city streets had turned suburban, and the tiny, precariously stacked apartments gave way to uniform residences, each on its own picket-fenced plot, regimented shadows in the night. I jaywalked, criss-crossing the empty streets until we'd short-cutted our way to White Marsh's football field. "Hold up," Jane panted behind me. I turned and grinned. The sweat glistened on her forehead, illuminated by the pale moonlight. "Give 'em to me." She handed over her shoes, and with a mischievous look in her eyes she took off down the grassy slope, propelled by a new spurt of energy.

I paused, watching her, catching my breath from more than just exertion.

Jane
I tried not to remember the last time I had been here, just on the other side of this field, running to meet another boy. Another failed attempt.

Billy was quiet again, and it was so dark I couldn't see his face. We were stretched out on the field now, staring up at the scant stars and the non-functioning lights. Apparently, he'd had known they weren't going to be replaced until Monday. Smart boy.

"Have I changed?" I mused aloud.

I could hear Billy sit up beside me. "Generally, specifically, in the last month…."

"Since I got my internship."

"'Course. Anyone can see that."
I blushed. "Is it bad?"
"Mmm, not at all, I like the stuck-up model type." I swatted at him in the dark, but missed. "I'm not stuck up!"
Billy laughed. "You're right. But sometimes, I think, you try too hard."
"Billy," I said, heaving a world-weary sigh, "I do try hard."
"That is true. But you could afford to lighten up. You know, not care so much about what others think, not become a slave to pleasing people, not…ignore your best friend." There was a pause. "You could let your hair down more often, hypothetically speaking," he added quickly.

"Is that how you feel about this whole thing? Ignored?" He didn't answer me.

"Remember how when you were twelve you thought Nick was the one?" He asked, abruptly changing the subject.

I turned my head in surprise. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

Billy winced.

A few minutes later, I was still deciding whether or not to believe him. He waited, gazing at me. "I guess it makes sense," I said slowly. "And it does explain why Nick didn't remember anything. But I don't get it. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I thought you'd be mad," he said simply. "Are you?"
I thought a bit.

"Promise you're telling the truth?"

Billy grinned. "You know it."

"Then no, not especially," I said. "Worse things have happened. My heart will get broken again."

He gave me a pained expression. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that," I hastened to explain. Not by you. "But why are you telling me now? And why was doing tonight so important to you?"

He shrugged. "We haven't really done much since I got back."
"What do you want to do?" I asked, then realized too late what that might entail.
"Let me rephrase that."

"What?" Suddenly, I picked up on something else.

He shook his head slowly, chuckling softly. "Nothing."

"Oh, it's something."
"Nope," he shook his head in denial.
"You're impossible."

"Maybe," he chuckled, "but I told you so you'd recognize this…"He slowly leaned over me and suddenly I realized just what was happening.

"Whoa," I said, holding up a hand and gently pushing him back.

"What?"

"Just give me a minute." I sat up and shook my head to clear it. Billy shrugged. "Fine."

"Just…why?" My feelings were racing inside of me, it all felt so strange.

"Why not? You are my girlfriend, after all."
I cringed at the word. "We really gonna go there?"

Billy nodded solemnly. "Totally."

I took a deep breath. "Ok, I'm ready."

"She's ready," he whispered, as his hand brushed across my cheek and down my neck. I shivered, but it wasn't at all uncomfortable like I'd feared.

Billy

I kissed her gently, like one caresses delicate china and other fragile things. I watched carefully as her eyelids fluttered and closed. I indulged for a second then pulled away. Jane fell back, and in the faint moonlight she gave me a look of wonder. "I—I—" She tried to sort out words but none came. I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Anything come to mind?" I asked hopefully.

She nodded, and then kissed me surely.

Careful, I reminded myself. You can't break this.

A note lay on the Creative Director's desk, delivered by a bribed pizza boy. It had gone unnoticed when Gray had finally slipped out after hours. She would see it tomorrow.

Gray Chandler Murray—

"As someone concerned for the welfare and security of Donovan Decker, I think you should know about the background of your assistant, Jane Quimby. You may be wondering why no one's ever heard of her, why it seems like she just appeared out of thin air. That is true. I know Jane not going to confess anything for fear of getting fired. I hear you're pretty fond of her. She's pretty devoted to you, too. But there's something you should know about Jane. She's not who you think she is. She's not who she's claimed to be for the past few months."

This explanation is followed by a picture of Jane—full color and glossy, the size of a stamp and obviously ripped out of a book. The edges have a bit of lipstick smeared over them, but Gray won't notice that—she'll be too busy reading the tiny print below the image, and Birdie will be calling the number of a Miss. Rita Shaw. Gray probably won't even notice the postscript, because she won't recognize the name. After all, William Nutter does not ring a bell.