A/N: Enjoy!

That Thursday evening the Wests came to get Tori at six-thirty. She had gone through several outfit changes before deciding on a bright green dress with black embroidery on the hem and bodice, along with matching black cloth shoes.

"You look fancy," Holly Vega said as Tori came down the stairs.

"Thanks," Tori said.

"Take your camera," Holly said. "I know your father and I will want to see some pictures when you get back."

The doorbell rang, and Tori hurried over to pick up her purse and cell phone.

"Have fun," Holly said. "Call us on the way home, okay?"

"Sure. Bye, Mom."

Tori opened the door to find Jade standing there, dressed in a casually understated flowing black dress. "Let's go, Vega."

"And a good evening to you too, Jade."

"Yeah, yeah."

The van was packed with folks in fancy dress – Evie, Annie and Kent West, Beck, and Ms. Santiago. The whole vehicle was crowded with ribbon and shiny fabric and finery. "Hello, Tori," Annie said, giving Tori a smile. "We're so pleased you could join us."

"Um, thank you," Tori said. "I'm happy to come along."

"Get in the van," Jade said from behind Tori.

Beck gave Tori a smile and reached out a hand to help her climb into the van. Once she was in her seat, strapped in next to Evie and her medical equipment, Kent put the van into gear and they pulled away from the curb.

"Should we put on some traveling music?" Annie asked.

"No, Mom, not the showtunes," Jade said.

"Jadey, you used to love my showtunes," Annie said.

"No one loved your showtunes, Mom," Evie said.

"Where is the fund-raiser being held, Mrs. West?" Tori asked.

"Oh, it's at this great new funky restaurant downtown," Annie said. "Kent's been there for a business dinner."

"And I couldn't stand it," Kent said as he slowed down for a red light. "It's one of those goofy fusion places. Who's ever heard of Old English pub food mixed with Creole cooking?"

"That does sound weird," Beck said.

"Not necessarily," Ms. Santiago said. "Back in Quebec – that's where I'm from – my brother's dating a girl who works at an Ethiopian-Russian fusion. I don't know why, but it's the most popular restaurant in the area."

"I like plain and simple food," Kent said. "You know, hamburgers. Steak. Chicken fingers."

"You have the taste of a twelve-year-old, dear," Annie said.

"I don't like fancy food. Nothing with sauces. Nothing that has to be arranged on a plate. No vegetables with chocolate. I don't understand all these foofy little entrees – four bites of food is not an entrée!" Kent smacked his hand against the steering wheel. "If I pay good money for food, I want to be eating more of it than four bites! A side dish is not a teaspoon of mashed potatoes!"

"At Bella Fina they gave me more potatoes than I could eat," Evie said. "Andre had to eat the rest of them for me."

"That was an abnormally large amount of potatoes," Tori agreed. "I think Andre had to eat mine, too."

"Trina ate the rest of my dessert," Beck said. "Without asking me."

"She ate mine, too," Jade said acidly.

"And then she got wickedly sick later," Tori said. "She forced John Benson to make an entire pitcher of peach smoothies, and she drank all of them."

"Good," Jade said.

The Cat and the Fiddle was bursting with people and jazz music played by what sounded like a brass quartet. Kent parked the van in a handicapped spot and got out to retrieve Evie's wheelchair from the trunk. He lifted her out of the captain's chair in the van and settled her in the wheelchair, putting her ventilator on the seat next to her.

Evie smoothed the pink-and-black tulle skirt of her dress and tugged at the black bodice. She looked up at Tori, who had climbed out of the van behind her. "Can you see my central line?"

"No," Tori said honestly.

"Good," Evie said.

Tori pushed Evie's chair towards the restaurant entrance. Jade and Beck followed behind, holding hands, and behind them Annie and Kent carried the rest of Evie's medical equipment. Ms. Santiago bobbed along in their wake, looking cheerful about the whole adventure.

At the door the party was greeted by a cheerful dark-haired woman in a teal sequined dress. "Welcome to The Cat and the Fiddle!" she exclaimed, as Annie handed her their tickets. "I'll take you to your table!"

As she led them into the restaurant she turned back towards them, chattering the whole time. "I'm Marlene Halloran. My son is Clay – have you met him? He'll be here tonight, later. He went to pick up his girlfriend Lane. She goes to Sherwood, they both do, they're your age. Where do you kids go to school? "

"Hollywood Arts," Beck, Tori, Jade, and Evie said together.

"Oh, well, I've heard great things about that place! This is your table! Please, sit! I'll get the waiter over to take your drink orders!" Marlene chirped. "Such a pleasure to meet you all! I'll make sure my Clay gets over to say hi!"

"Make sure he wears a mask," Annie said, putting a hand on Marlene's elbow.

At this Marlene's face fell a little. "Um, I'm sorry?"

"Well, if your son is a CF patient who's as old as my daughter, then you doubtlessly know that when CF patients get together, there's…"

Marlene interrupted her there. "My son's not a CF patient," she said in a tone that was almost rude. "He's just normal."

"Uh-oh," Beck said under his breath.

It was obviously the right utterance, because a second later Jade had stepped up close to the woman, her face set in an angry expression. "Um, excuse me? You think having CF means somebody's not normal?"

"I didn't… I mean…"

"Listen," Jade said. "My sister might be in a wheelchair now, breathing on a ventilator through a tracheotomy, but she is absolutely normal. She's an artist, she's a fund-raiser, and she is most definitely more normal than someone who pretends to be all nice and then turns around and turns out to be a huge bitch!"

"Well, I think…"

"I don't care what you think," Jade went on. "What the hell are you doing at a fund-raising event for people with CF? Are you trying to just be a show-off, trying to look good for your friends in the Junior League? They're really going to think you're just so amazing for trying to help these poor little sick kids who can't breathe, is that it?"

"I don't…"

"You don't look amazing," Jade said bluntly. "You look like an asshole. It's not only an honor for my sister to be here, it's a privilege. She's supposed to be dead right now, because usually these poor little sick kids stop breathing before they get to her age. So when you go back to your dumb-ass Junior League friends, you tell them that you made a fool of yourself in front of the star of the evening."

Marlene looked down at Evie. "Um, so you're…?"

"That's right. This is Evie West. She's the speaker this evening. And now you feel like the biggest asshole in the building – which is good, because that's exactly what you are."

Tori looked over at Annie and Kent; they looked as shocked as she felt. But neither of them said anything.

"So get us some drinks and then get the hell away from us," Jade said.

The woman scrambled away from them.

"Honey, I've never really approved of your methods, but you certainly do know how to turn a phrase," Annie said.

"Thanks, Jadey," Evie said softly.

"Let's take a seat, shall we?" Ms. Santiago said. "Wouldn't want to make a bigger spectacle."

Grateful for something to do, the group pulled chairs around the lacquered black table and sat awkwardly.

"Did you finish your speech?" Tori asked Evie as she sat down beside her friend.

"Oh, yeah," Evie said. "I had some extra time in study hall after the fire drill."

"There was a fire drill?" Annie asked as she hung her purse on the back of her chair.

"Sikowitz pulled the alarm," Jade said.

"He said it was a very special drive-by acting exercise," Tori said. "The prompt was – you're all freaking out because there's a fire in the school!"

"To be fair, we all did really well with that part," Beck said.

A waiter came over, blessedly free from Marlene. He took their orders and headed back to the kitchen. The waiter had barely been gone five minutes when two sharply dressed people, a man and a woman, approached the table.

"Evie! You're looking wonderful!" the woman said, and swept Evie into a big hug.

"Hey there, Kent," the man said, and the men shook hands.

"Hi, Carol," Evie said, grinning. She released the woman and leaned back in her wheelchair. "Tori, Beck, Ms. Santiago, this is the president and vice-president of the Hollywood Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, Carol and Matt Erickson. Carol, Matt, this is my sister's boyfriend, Beck, my friend Tori, and my art teacher, Alicia Santiago."

There was a flurry of hand-shaking and hugs; Evie beamed up at them all with flushed cheeks.

"Really, we're thrilled to have you here," Carol said to Evie. "I think everyone will really love your speech."

"And what about this band, huh?" Matt said, gesturing to the brass quartet, which had launched into a jazzed-up version of Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You."

"They're certainly… peppy," Evie said.

"You save a dance for me, huh? After dinner," Matt said to Evie. "But just one, or my wife might get jealous."

"Of course," Evie said with a smile. "I'd be honored to."

The Ericksons swept off to greet other guests, and soon the fundraiser was underway. A local TV weatherman with too much product in his hair was introduced as the emcee for the evening, and he went gamely through the motions for both the silent and live auctions, instructing people on where to get bidding slips and auction catalogs. In between that he introduced numbers from the brass quartet, made jokes about the food, and answered questions on what it was like to be a famous local TV weatherman.

Throughout the meal, Tori kept looking over at Jade, and it really was true: she hadn't stopped smiling since she'd told off Marlene. Gently Tori nudged Evie. "I didn't think it was possible for Jade to smile that much," she said.

"I know, right?" Evie beamed as she attempted to get a green bean onto her fork. "It's a good thing we take pictures at this thing – otherwise I'd think it was a dream."

"She just looks… happy," Tori said. "And not the usual kind of happy, where you know she's just said something horrible to someone."

"It's awesome," Evie agreed.

Carol took the stage as the guests were finishing up their dinner, and said, "We'll have dessert after the keynote address. At this time we are still accepting bids for the silent auction. Please see a CF foundation representative to fill out a bidding slip. Remember, we have lots of great prizes, including a weekend in Tuscany, cooking lessons with Chef Michel du Montpelier, and a kayak signed by world kayaking champion Andrea Winston."

"Did you know there were world kayaking championships?" Annie asked the table.

"It seems like the kind of thing there should be," Evie said.

"I mean, they have world surfing championships and even televised Scrabble championships," Beck agreed. "Kayaking should be up there too."

"Guess I never really thought of kayaking as a sport that required competition," Annie said. "It always seemed very… private. Subdued."

"Are you sure you're thinking of kayaking, Mom? And not… I don't know… knitting?" Jade asked.

"Oh, well, knitting is subdued," Annie said.

Carol finished her speech and stepped off the stage. She came over to where Evie was sitting. "You ready, girlfriend?"

Evie gave the older woman a small smile. "I guess so."

She turned to Tori. "Is there anything in my teeth?"

"No."

"Good," Evie said. She opened her tiny pink purse and rummaged around until she found her speaking valve for her tracheotomy tube. "Mom, will you suction, please?"

"Sure," Annie said, putting a bite of salad in her mouth. She wiped her mouth and fingers, then opened the suction bag on Evie's chair. Snapping on a glove, she picked up the suction catheter.

Evie disconnected herself from the ventilator and allowed Annie to suction out her tracheotomy tube. "Okay, good," she said a bit breathlessly when the catheter was removed. She placed her speaking valve on the end of her trach tube. "Good?"

"Good," everyone at the table said.

"Give 'em heck, dollface," Carol said to Evie.

"You tell 'em, Evie," Jade said.

The local weatherman was at the podium again. "It is my distinct honor to present our keynote speaker for the evening, Evelyn West."

"Evelyn?" Tori said to Evie, grinning.

"It makes me sound like a grandma," Evie said.

"It's just very dignified," Tori said.

"And I'm not?"

"I didn't say that."

"… she is a student at Hollywood Arts High School, where her focus is on visual arts. She's a talented painter, sculptor, and photographer. She created a series of paintings that will be auctioned off during the live auction tonight. She loves miniature sized candy bars…"

Jade looked over at Evie. Evie grinned.

"… pop music, hanging out with her friends, and reruns of the TV show 'Golden Girls.' She's wildly talented, extremely expressive, and, oh yes, she happens to have cystic fibrosis! Please give a warm Hollywood Cystic Fibrosis Foundation welcome to Evelyn West!"

It was cheesy and goofy, but the audience responded as if the weatherman had just introduced Ricky Martin. Evie stood a bit unsteadily and headed towards the stage.

The applause continued throughout her entire walk onto the stage, and didn't end until Evie had been embraced by the local weatherman and was standing in front of the podium.

Evie, pink-faced and grinning, looked out over the crowd. Tori gave her a thumbs-up.

"Good evening, members of the Hollywood Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and honored guests. I'm Evelyn West, but the only person who calls me Evelyn is my great-grandmother Ma-Maw. So you can just call me Evie."

The audience laughed, and propped up by their enthusiasm, Evie continued. "I'd like to tell you that everything that Flip Spiceland, local TV weatherman, said about me is true. I do go to Hollywood Arts High School, where I do study art… I have a passion for miniature sized candy bars and 'Golden Girls.' But I'm not sure if I'd describe myself as wildly talented. Maybe just stubborn.

"People ask me how I live with cystic fibrosis. To me that's a weird question. I don't know any other life than the one life I've got – and that life happens to be one with cystic fibrosis. For me that sometimes means a life filled with hospital stays, contact precautions, chest X-rays, bronchoscopies, and extended sessions of chest-clearing respiratory physical therapy. Is it a tough life? I'd love to say no, but that's really a lie. Life with CF is hard, it's grueling, and it's definitely not for wussies."

More laughter from the audience.

"And while my life has been full of heartbreak and disappointment, it's also been full of love and experiments and fun. I have a wonderful big sister who is my role model, my confidant, and one of my rocks. I have the best teachers in the world at Hollywood Arts, including Alicia Santiago, my painting teacher, who is here this evening. I have great friends and great family – and they try to make everything accessible for me. I am so grateful for all the sacrifices they've made to get me where I am."

Deep breath, and continuing. "Another big part of my life with cystic fibrosis is educating others about my life with cystic fibrosis. There are a lot of people out there who have never heard of CF, and it's my goal to educate as many of those people as possible. It's also obviously your goal too, or you wouldn't be here.

"Some people ask me if I'm trying to educate people about the need for a cure. Well, yes, that's obviously in there too. I do want a cure. Someday I'd like to tell my grandchildren about a mythical disease called cystic fibrosis that once affected me and lots of other people like me. But what I'd like while we're working on the cure is a network of compassion. Doctors, nurses, therapists, insurance providers, equipment manufacturers, pharmaceutical companies – I'd like them to understand what it's like for a fifteen-year-old girl… or really anybody… to live with a chronic illness. It's a lot of medicine, a lot of equipment, a lot of time invested on my part and on the part of my caretakers. And life shouldn't be a struggle to get necessary medical coverage or equipment. I've got a life to live and so do my parents! I can say almost certainly that my parents would like less fighting with insurance providers and more cuddling and watching 'CSI.'"

Laughter from the audience.

"So yes – I am a person with cystic fibrosis. I'm also an artist, a little sister, somebody's daughter, and a huge fan of Justin Bieber."

More laughter.

"Being part of the Hollywood Cystic Fibrosis Foundation ensures that all parts of my life are visible to the world… and that, someday, they'll be the only parts that exist."

Evie smiled. "Thank you for your time."

The applause swept up through the restaurant. People were on their feet, cheering. Evie gripped the edge of the podium, beaming but exhausted.

Jade slipped out of her seat and went up onstage. Gently she pried Evie's hands from the podium, wrapped her arm around her sister, and together they went back to their seats, to the resounding ringing of applause.