A/N: Second chapter in one day. Whoo hooooo! I know, I know. It's short, and arguably lame (not many opportunities for humor, sorry), but they can't all be 3000+ words or it won't flow well. Plus, some pretty exciting stuff is coming up soon.

Well, I'm going to start on my third chapter. I'm on the train back home, and I have about four hours left. There's nothing to do but write, do homework, and look at cows. Rural Wisconsin is fascinating.

I love you all, even if you absolutely hate me. Review? C'mon, I have over 22500 hits and only 62 reviews? I know you guys can do better than that Oh, and HAPPY EASTER!

Beep.

I recognized the sound even through my half-asleep haze. I rubbed my eyes, squinting, then looked at my hands in horror. I'd totes just smeared my makeup. Oh, God no. This had to still be a dream – in fact, I was sure of it. Where was my mirror?

Wait, where was my blanket? And pillow?

All I could see, lying sideways with my cheek pressed to the ground (or whatever it was) was the leather of what looked like a seat. So I was in a car. Sprawled across the backseat, actually. Wow, I was soo riding in style now. Annoyed, I pulled myself into a sitting position.

My head immediately began to throb. I'd been hungover before, sure, but never this hungover. I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten here. Had I stayed out with Jess and Angel all night, partying? Had I gotten in a car chase and was on the run from the police? Was I kidnapped?

Ha. As if.

But, like, this wasn't cool. There was no one in the driver's or passenger seats. I peered out the window, but all I saw was a bunch of green stuff that was probably something from nature, like a plant or tree. I could never tell the difference.

This so wasn't my ride, either. These seats were freaking beige. Like, ew. I only drove ones with cheetah-print – otherwise, I'd be too focused on their ugliness and would die in a car accident.

I leaned over into the front seat and examined my reflection in the rearview mirror. Oh my God, this was not gonna work. My carefully applied makeup had turned from gorgeous sexiness to horror movie raccoon as I slept. My purse was nowhere in sight, so I had to settle for a wet wipe from the glove compartment.

First priority: appearance. I'd done the best I could, considering the circumstances, so I sat back and pondered the second: survival.

I was naturally talented at assessing the current situation. It was just another of my useful skills. So, I sat and thought about it for a few minutes. I was in some random person's car after a crazy night, which I had no recollection of. The person was clearly gone, maybe for good (hopefully, unless it was Ike), and I was alone in the backseat. With nothing but the clothes I was wearing, and…

Then, I remembered the reason I'd awoken in the first place. My phone. I found it lying on the floor facedown. Wiping off its bedazzled screen carefully, I went to the messages. Six new texts, four new calls. At least I had people who cared about me! Though I deserved to – I mean, I was rich, famous, and gorgeous.

A little red thingy in the corner of the screen was blinking. I frowned. Was I not getting reception? Was my phone mad at me for neglecting it? Soo not my fault. I decided that had to be it and opened the first message.

It was from Barley. SPLENDA, it read, ARE YOU HAVING FUN WITH YOUR FRIEND?

I rolled my eyes and sent him a quick reply. Way 2 b concerned abt my disappearance, freak. I had to say, I was pretty proud of myself for spelling 'disappearance' correctly. Though I had to credit my automatic spell checker.

The second text was from Jessica. You left ur sunglasses the beach. I'll bring them on Mon, k?

Beach. So I had been at the beach. What had happened? I glanced at my arms. I looked a little tanner than usual. Good.

Sunglasses. Tanning. Beach. Friends. A little warning bell was ringing in the back of my brain.

But right then a fantastic little message popped up on my phone. Critical low battery. Powering off.

So the little red blinking thing had been a low battery sign. I'd assumed it to be a truck that lost its wheels. Immediately, I started to cry. Phones did not just turn off on Stella Goose, especially when she was hungover and needed them! What if Ike had called?

Two things happened at once.

One, the events of the last night came rushing back to me. The barbecue. The bonfire. The drunkenness. The Ke$ha. And then, at the end, the Edworm. The passing out.

Two, a cold, sweaty, stinky, unmanicured, paper-white hand closed on my wrist.

I didn't even look at him. I jerked my hand away, but his fingers didn't budge. I clawed at his hand, wincing at every little bit of skin contact. The skin didn't even break; it was impenetrable. And believe me, my nails are sharp.

Through my teary eyes, I looked up at the single most disgusting organism to have ever existed. His eyes, such a repulsive color I couldn't even focus on them (or I'd for sure burn out my corn knees, whatever they were called) narrowed, and his thin, crusty lips turned up into a vomitrocious smile.

"Well, well, well, Splenda. We're going to take a nice little day trip."