A/N- Woo hoo, check it out, I updated. I must of course, thank Chica De Los Ojos Cafe profusely for her help. She's been letting me pick her brain (with a large dull instrument) and reading my drafts fresh from the factory I call my mind. And to my other reviewers, you rock! Oh, btw Mardi Gras was some crazy stuff.


Thirty minutes later, Illyria's headmaster is still trying to piece together events over the last three weeks. Rain continues to pound against the office window and lightning still flashes, but with less ferocity. Thunder growls mutely, a far cry from the initial dynamite-like explosions. The storm seems to be losing intensity, although it took the sunlight with it. Horatio Gold tries to keep conversation flowing, with little avail. He receives mostly mumbled answers and occasional sobs of distress. Viola sits, staring out the window, absently holding her untouched cocoa. Her unfocused eyes remain blurry with tears still waiting to be shed. The secretary knocks softly, then pokes her head in to say that Viola's mother is on her way. Gold nods acknowledgment before turning back to the wet teen.

"Viola, is playing soccer really this important to you?"

Her eyes lift up briefly, then drop back down to the now luke-warm cocoa. She takes a long draw, vaguely noting a bit of cinnamon. She sighs, returning her gaze to the bald man.

I've gone through too damn much to give up now. That, and it's about all I have left here. "Yes. I still want to play, if they'll let me."

"Okey dokey, then, if you'll excuse me for a moment. I'm going to speak with Coach Dinklage about keeping you on the team."

A small spark of hope flickers just within sight. "Really?"

"Well, yes. You're supposed to start Monday, but we'll see if we can't start you tomorrow so you don't miss classes or practice."

"Oh."Class? Crap. I forgot about the not being able to miss any classes and still play.

"If you need anything before your parents arrive, just ask Misses Walker."

"Sure."

He gives her a small pat on the shoulder. Pulling a damp hand back, he hopes some dry clothes will help improve her gloomy disposition.

"I suggested to your mother to bring you some of your own clothes. That is, if you don't normally dress like this. You can change into something dry when she gets here."

The girl seems to barely be aware of her wet predicament. "Thanks."

Left alone, she returns to mentally beating herself up. Her self-esteem takes blow after, self-induced blow while her ego tries to bury itself alive underneath the pain. Tears once again flow down her cheeks unchecked. She pulls a tissue from a box on the desk. Blowing loudly, she grimaces, knowing how disgusting she must currently look. In her mind's eye she sees her bloodshot eyes, her bruised skin red and blotchy, her nose dripping copious amounts of mucus, and mud smeared everywhere else. Just as she is about to land another mental drop kick, the twins' mother sweeps into the office.

"Oh, honey, are you all right?"

"Mom." Viola does not spare any more words, instantly jumping into the elder Hastings' arms. Clinging tightly to the woman, she sobs into her shoulder. She is not aware how long she stays like this, simply allowing herself to succumb to the warm and loving embrace. Eventually she feels the wracking tears lessen, and is able to look up into her mother's eyes. Never letting their hands separate, she slowly speaks of the past few days' events, omitting only the painful depths of Justin's idiocy. She glosses over the details, not quite willing to relive it, but unable to keep it from her mother. Mrs. Hastings looks upon her daughter proudly, smiling at the strength, courage, tenderness, and compassion in Viola.

"I love you so much, Viola, darling. I'm so proud of you. You are growing into such a wonderful young woman."

The twin snorts out a disdainful laugh. "Are you kidding me? Didn't you just hear me tell you about what a horrid person I am and all the terrible things I've done? I've hurt so many people, just so I could be selfish and play soccer. I'm not even sure it was worth it." She chokes back more tears threatening to spill over. "After hurting Olivia and Duke I should be shot. Then J-Justin was such a jackass, and you didn't see the way everyone stared at me on the way here. I may n-not even be able to p-play, and it'll have all been for nothing! Scouts w-won't see me play. N-No college will want me. I'll never ever see the f-field again, let alone the W-World C-C-Cup. And," sniff, "and . . ."

Daphne pulls Viola into another hug, cutting off the stream of negativity spewing out. Several minutes later, she puts the girl back at arms' length to look her in the eye. "Honey, you care that you did hurt these people, you never meant to. You were just following your dreams. I'm sure if you are able, that you will do whatever you can to make it up to them. These are wonderful qualities to see in you." She smiles winningly, hoping to inspire the return of light to Viola's usually brilliant eyes.

"This coming from the woman who wants me to always be clean, with perfectly manicured nails, and wearing pink ruffled skirts?"

"Well, I would prefer it, but you're still really great the way you are."

A small smile finally appears on the teen's discolored face. Daphne's dainty hand caresses a muddy cheek lovingly, ignoring the visible bruises. To instead provide positive encouragement, Mrs. Hastings never lets her brilliant smile falter.

The door opens. Gold hops into the office, his exuberant smile ready, thrusting his hand out. "So glad you could make it, Misses Hastings." Still shaking Daphne's hand, he turns to the ex-Sebastian. "Looks like you've gotten those tears to dry up a bit. Se-Viola, I believe we have everything taken care of to keep you playing soccer." That statement is greeted by a small squeal of joy. He chortles. "Now, unless you'd like to stay while your mother and I speak, feel free to get yourself cleaned up."

Viola smiles even wider, the thought of being clean, dry, and completely female again is more than tempting. "Mom, you bring me some normal clothes? I'll even break my no-ruffles policy at this point."

The energetic woman feigns a little pout of mock hurt. "And here I brought you a boring pair of jeans and a one of those layered tops you like."

"Really?"

A nod of assent.

"Super, I would have died if I had to wear ruffles. You're great, Mom. Thanks."

"Of course, sweetheart. Your clothes, shoes, extra shower products, and a clean towel are all here."

Viola takes the bag handed to her, ready to go take a few layers off.

"Since you'll be staying here, honey, we can make a trip home to get your things later."

"OK, sounds great."

"Oh, and Miss Hastings?"

"Yea?"

The man with the shiny, bald pate hands her a set of keys. "Don't forget to use the washroom in the girls' dormitories."

"Heh, yea. Good idea." She pockets the set, then slips the bag over her shoulder, and gives her mom another quick hug before opening the door. About to take off blindly, she stops, making sure no blondes are directly in her path. Free of obstacles, she heads toward the bathroom to wash off her last vestige of being 'Sebastian'.

Viola makes her way through the hallways. Students passing by look at her strangely, not quite sure who she is. A few, like in Biology class, stop and blatantly stare or whisper together excitedly. Bolstered by her mother's loving embrace and proud words, Viola is able to just shake her head and roll her eyes, knowing every day will be just like this. She squares her shoulders, turning the corner to the dormitories. The door to the building in front of her, she fumbles with the key chain. She holds the set to the electronic lock, wondering why the personal room locks aren't electronic like the dorm entrances, fitness facility, and student center. Shrugging, she again pockets the keys, but quickly pulls them back out. The room number on the plastic is familiar. Not able to place it, it bothers her. With a groan she stomps into the bathroom. Guess I'll find out who my new roomie will be soon anyways.

Once inside, the twin is surprised by how much nicer the girls' bathing facility is than the boys'. Being empty, she prowls the interior, poking her nose around in curiosity. There are curtains for privacy around each shower head. Every stall has places to set products and pegs to hang towels and bags. By the sinks there are multiple power outlets, and fans to keep the mirrors from fogging. For the first time she lets out a chuckle, amused at how pampered the Illyrian girls are.

Still smiling, she peels out of her soggy clothes, dropping them with wetsplats. Next she pulls off her cleats and drenched socks. Her bare, chilled feet touch the unexpectedly warm floor. Momentarily confused, she blinks. She looks down. It hits her. The floor is heated. Realization immediately sends her into giggles, imagining the looks on the boys' faces if they only knew. Thinking of Duke, she knows should sober her, but she refuses to let go of her good mood. Putting thoughts of him out of her mind, her hand finds the knob, adjusting it until her body is covered in steaming hot water.

For twenty minutes she luxuriates in the feeling of freedom. Stress just washes off her body like the rest of the filth covering her. No worries about being caught naked in the boys' showers. No more pretending to be something she is not. No need for wigs, or fake hair, or the sticky residue from hair glue. No more ass-early alarms for secret showers. No longer a reason for her silly boy voice and uneasy mannerisms.

Tranquility settles about her shoulders, easing her mind. She turns the water off, and wrings her hair out, thrilled she will not have to hide it under a wig anymore. Taking her large, fluffy towel in hand, she pats her smooth skin dry. Not caring if it comes out frizzy, she also towels her hair, getting it as dry as possible. Satisfied, she wraps the damp fabric about her body, and begins to pack up the shower kit. Her hand on the zipper stops at the sound of a choked sob. She hesitates, closing the zipper quietly, unsure of her ears. Another cry and a muffled curse confirm the twin is not alone in the large bathroom. For several moments, she stands and listens to whomever is pouring their heart out to empty air, hoping a friend will show up to console this girl. When her heart cannot stand the sound of solitary grieving any longer, she thrusts the curtain aside, looking for the distraught.

Hunched over a sink, a very familiar blonde holds herself tightly against the pain of the world. Back to Viola and eyes tightly shut, she does not see the brunette approach. She does notice being enveloped in a sudden cloud of coconut-perfumed steam. Olivia straightens, green eyes now open wide, swiveling to look at the girl suddenly next to her.

"Olivia?" Viola questions, not sure what to do, but wanting to offer comfort of some sort.

Several moments pass as Olivia stares at Viola. Suddenly, she seems to make a decision, lunging at the other girl. Viola is sure the blonde is going to tackle her, kill her maybe. Then a set of slender arms wraps tightly about her waist and tear-streaked face crashes into her collarbone. She stands there, with her friend clinging viselike to her, unsure what to do with her own arms. At last, she decides on draping them over Olivia, and rests her cheek on top of floral-scented hair. As Olivia weeps, Viola rubs her back gently, silently wishing they can still be friends.

Eventually the pressure around her waist lessens and she can feel Olivia's breathing become regular. There is a long sniffle, accompanied by a shift in Olivia's balance. Viola fully expects for the other girl to disentangle quickly, now that her tears are under control. The shorter girl stays as she is, not yet ready to leave the embrace. She draws in a deep breath, and seems to relax into the hug even more. Unbeknownst to either teen, the door to the bathroom opens. Julia pokes her head in.

"Olivia? I was worried."

Startled, Olivia jumps out of Viola's arms, sputtering. "I w-was just about to take a shower, but I couldn't stop crying." She casts a guilty look at Viola, who raises an eyebrow back.

"Are you better now?"

Viola's eyes remain fixed on the blonde, who blushes and looks down. "Y-yes. Much better, in fact." She meets the other girl's eyes again asking, "Do you still want to meet tomorrow morning for your makeup?"

The half-naked girl nods assent. "Yea, the stares'll be bad enough without these," and she points to her colorful blemishes, "sitting around like billboards for Asshole Day."

Julia's mouth opens in surprise, realizing who the girl in the towel is. Watching her roommate's reaction intently, she closes her lips to form a little smirk.

"OK. I will see you tomorrow then." Her voice drops to an almost whisper, her eyes look down. "Thank you for holding me. I-I needed it." Again, her gaze flickers up to look into Viola's jade eyes. The ex-boy gives her a warm smile, happy to be on good terms.

"Yea, sure. Anytime."

Olivia wipes at her eyes distractedly, then grabs her shower kit and towel. "See you back in our room, Julie." She practically sprints for the farthest stall, refusing to look back at Julia. Curtains are quickly shut upon entrance, concealing her from further study.

Viola looks on a moment longer before shrugging, and getting her own bag to finish her grooming. While pulling out her facial moisturizer, she notices Julia still standing by the door. "Hey, Jules."

She gives her a brief once over before responding tersely. "Viola." She turns and leaves.

The twin, now relatively alone, returns to self contemplation. She hears Olivia's shower start and smiles, hoping for a new friendship with her. Quickly she brushes out her long hair, and puts it up in a simple ponytail. To lotion the rest of her toned body, she drops the towel. Her eyes catch the fading marks across her chest and frowns. A shake of her head, she puts it from her mind, grabbing her clothes.

Dressed, she glances at Olivia's still running shower. She grabs her things, and slings her bag over a shoulder. Head high, she exits the bathroom, and runs into Eunice, literally.

"Ow."

"Sorry, Eunice. Didn't see you there."

"Do I know you?"

"Uh, well . . ."

Eunice peers at her closely. "Oh, I do know you. You're Sebastian's sister! Well, you were Sebastian. So you are Sebastian, but not. That makes you Viola."

Said girl rolls her eyes. "Yea." This could get real annoying, real fast. I hope I don't have to do this all day tomorrow. If I have to explain myself more than once each class I'll scream. Really, I will. I will scream loud and clear just who the hell I was, am, will be from now on.

"This is so exciting."

"Because I'll be at the number one spot of the gossip chain top ten for the rest of my high school career?"

The girl laughs, showing her braces. "Why would I care about that? That's interesting, but not why I'm excited."

"Then, why would you be? Did you win a lottery or something? What does this have to do with me?"

"Didn't Headmaster Gold tell you?"

"No, tell me what?"

"Really? That means I get to tell you? This is so exciting."

"What, what are you talking about?"


HELP WANTED: Please Review!

Happy Valentines, I take all forms of chocolate love