And the October 24, 2008 "Sucky Teen of the Day Award" goes to…Miranda, aka Jasper-is-a-God, the author of the acclaimed fanfiction "Emmett's Makeover." Now Miranda, would you like to say a few words? "Yes, I would. Thanks to all you guys who voted me to be your Sucky Teen of the Day. I would like to apologize to everyone who has been desperately waiting for an update but never got one. This is for you!"

"Oh. My. God. Omigod! Omigod!" It appears Alice is having a spasm. But since vampires can't have spasms, Alice is just really excited. Unfortunately, Alice's excitement means my misery.

"What now?" I ask, frowning down at the chained jeans I'm still wearing.

"I'm not telling you!" Alice laughs in a sing-song voice. I hear Edward's muffled laugh, then his almost-audible whisper to Jasper, who has a harder time masking his snickers.

"Neither am I," Edward tells me before I can ask. I sulk.

Clothes are flying everywhere where Alice is. I hug my knees to my bare chest and wait until she digs out the first piece of my outfit. And when she does, I cringe.

"Remember Jackson High in Montana?" Alice asks, tossing over the shirt and sighing nostalgically. I hold up the offending material. "I swiped this from a cheerleader's bag." Alice smirks.

"Why?" I ask sharply.

"I could hear him going at it with this girl. I couldn't resist." Alice laughs at the memory.

"So you swiped this from a male cheerleader in, like, the 70s?" I ask incredulously. "No wonder it's all crispy. It hasn't been touched in 35 years." I finger the stiff material. Alice nods, proud of herself.

"Well, put it on then," she commands expectantly. I gape at her. She can't expect me to wear…this? "Come on, Emmett."

"But it's itchy!" I complain.

"Jasper," Alice orders. Jasper rises, smiling menacingly.

"Okay, okay, I'm putting it on! Jeez!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes and pulling on the fabric. I barely manage to get it over my head without ripping it. When I'm done, Alice throws me the pants. They're even crunchier than the shirt, and I gingerly exchange the Goth jeans for the faded-green-and-off-white striped pants.

"Rosalie!" Alice yells. "Pom-poms!"

"Pom-poms?" I whine, shooting a glare at Rosalie.

"Shut up, Emmett," Alice snaps. Two green-and-white balls of material slightly less delicate than crepe paper are thrown to me.

"Rah-rah," I mutter.

"Ready? Okay!" Jasper cheers in an overly peppy cheerleader voice.

"If my outfit wasn't about to crumble, I'd kill you," I warn him.

Jasper snickers again. "I know."