Oh, randomness... Kudos to anyone who got the joke about Canadian money in the last chapter. Lol, just see if you can find it if you don't even know where it is. I'll give spoilers to the first person to understand it. But then again, seriously, I might just give out spoilers anyways. I enjoy doing it... Ooh, dirty! Lol, anyways, I love spoilers, seriously.

Anyways, so there's this really awesome fic I think everyone should read. Seriously, if you like this, and I'm kind of assuming you do, seeing as you're reading this, you should go read it.

Anyways, and that fic is A Bittersweet Homecoming, my friends, by Shakubuku. It's my favorite! And it's really really really great. So like the show too... Absolutely hilarious (ah, man, the comments Kwest makes! I wish I could write Kwest like that... But I guess I write Chaz like that, so it's all good)! And it's on the official site (the CTV one, not the-N), by the way. Maybe she'll post it on here someday, who knows? But it rocks and you should go check it out. It's worth a look. And she posts a lot... So seriously, go there. GO THERE.

Oh, and then check out "Unexpected", this other awesome fic. It's pretty good (Ha, see, Belle, getting back at you for the plugging, lol). And, really, I can't think of any words to describe it except Dramaful... Seriously, though, I wouldn't even be posting now if it weren't for me promising Belle I'd finish it this morning. Too bad she wasn't up to see. So you have her to thank for this, lol...

Anyways, so I apologize if the end part sucked because, augh... It does. If I weren't so tired, I'd rewrite it, but considering I fell asleep writing it in the first place...

I don't own IS or anything else that sounds famous, nor do I own the featured song, "Liar Liar" (Best song ever! Ah, and GREAT episode), and "Natural Disaster". It's by Wakefield, and it rocks. You should check it out. Anyhow, I meant to write more about how she was affected by this chapter, but let's just say it hits her deeper than you can see in this chapter.

As I said, you get to see a lot more about Travis' past/character in this chapter. And it's sort of revealing about Jude's own. The next chapter's the filming of the big scene in the video and then sort of the consequences of what the tabloids have been saying about her. Let's just say it's a rough couple of chapters for Jude...

Anyways, happy Easter to everyone! Hmm, and a happy Passover too... Is that this week? Hm, I think so. Well, whatever religion you are, may the Easter Bunny visit you and give you so much candy your teeth rot (well, not really, 'cause that would be horrible). Because Candy is GOOD, and Loren obviously needs some sleep. Especially as she's referring to herself in third person... Lol.

My morning started out weird enough, lemme tell you. I actually woke up early for some bizarre reason. And then I got insomnia, so I couldn't go back to sleep. I actually had time to make breakfast... Yes, I can cook! Anybody can make pancakes as long as they've got some Aunt Jemima mix and maple syrup. Surprisingly, I was up before both my mother and Sexy Sades, so the pancakes were warm when they came down. The look of surprise on Sadie's face was priceless, but she grudgingly hugged me and actually thanked me for cooking. Then she said she was on a strict no-carbs diet, but she would have one anyways, no maple syrup.

Silly Sadie... I didn't look that bad either, since I had time to spare, so my hair was sort of curly and shiny... I was wearing some of the new clothes I'd gotten at the fashion shoot (the black pants, red sweater, the cool belt, and motorcycle boots), so I was sorta glammed up. Even Sadie was somewhat impressed. Today wasn't an especially busy day. It was pretty much filming the music video, doing a live interview with a DJ, and then the rest of the time was up to me. Well, not to mention my performance in Music. But Patsy had a gig tonight (and Speed and the guys too), so I was thinking about going to that. Gotta support my band, you know?

I was completely ready to go, once again, early, when the doorbell rang. Considering it was their anniversary, Sadie jumped up and ran to the door, thinking it was Tommy. If it was Tommy, I planned to sneak out the back door. I mean, how could I see him with my sister after yesterday? I'm not a masochist.

Imagine my surprise when Sadie walked back in, confused and pouting. She rolled her eyes, slowly crossing her arms over her chest. "Would you care to tell me why Chaz Blackthorn's here, asking to drive you to school?" Sadie drawled, appraising me suggestively. Chaz is here? That's messed up. I mean, why? How does he even know where I... Oh, right, he kinda drove me here. Duh, Jude. He escaped out of the kitchen window. Honestly, how could I forget that?

I shrugged, turning to face Sadie. I still had my breakfast to finish. "Not really," I muttered, knowing it would piss her off. That and the fact that even I didn't know why Chaz was here to see me. I glanced up, smiling mischievously. "Make sure to inform him that Mom's here... So he can get a head start," I replied evilly, smirking. Chaz was kinda scared of my mom. Which I suppose is logical, considering that she threatened to castrate him and put him in traction. But he should really be scared of Dad. Dad... well, let's just say he was even more graphic and violent with his threats. And yet he continued to let Sadie date Tommy.

Hypocrite. I don't care that she's older and can make her own decisions. Blah, blah, blah... You know what, there's not much of a difference between us. I mean, for one thing, Tommy and Chaz are both boybanders (and ooold), and Tommy is a big part in both of our lives. They can't change that. And, for crying out loud, I'm not even dating Chaz! I'm just... I dunno. We're different people, I guess. But why can't I make my own decisions? I mean, I'm making five figures, or something like that from royalties and record sales... If I wanted to, I could move out.

But I love my parents, flawed and weird and embarrassing as they may be. Plus Jamie lives next door, and you just can't beat that. Assuming Jamie ever forgives me. But I had to look up when I felt my sister's glare boring into the back of my head. She was peering down at me inquisitively. "Are you sleeping with him?" She asked bluntly. Well, gee, thanks for the faith, Sades! Ugh. And this from the girl who made out with him when she was fourteen! That's like the pot calling the kettle a slut.

I gave Sadie a look of pure confusion, eyes wide. "God no! Does it look like my name's Ruby McCartney?" I gaped, wondering if the Boyz-phile would catch the hint. I hadn't been counting on it, but apparently she did. Immediately, her lips were pursed, drawn in a tight frown. She was actually silent for a while. A good long while. Really, I wish she'd shut up for longer. But then again, Sadie shutting up for any amount of (long) time is a miracle from God, a wonderful gift to my eardrums...

Then she looked me over with a casual, sweeping glance, and she walked back, almost out of the kitchen. She shot me a brief look over her shoulder before exiting. "Well, you sure look like her," Sadie retorted, and then, with a swish of her skirt she was gone. I wanted to scream after her that she was a liar... That I didn't look like her. That Ruby had brassy, orange hair, lots of freckles, and brighter blue eyes. I wanted to yell that she was so much younger than me, and that I didn't look like a thirteen-year-old. I wanted to say lots of things, but I didn't really know what she looked like. So I couldn't deny it... I vowed to check it out later.

I was even more surprised when Chaz actually walked in the room with Sadie in tow. He obviously recognized the room and shuddered when he saw the window. I couldn't fight the smirk that overtook my face at the memory. And then I promptly frowned, remembering what I'd said to my parents in my infinite wisdom. Yurgh. Yesterday was... crazy. After Tommy and I recorded "Forbidden Fruit" in two takes, I went off to Darius' place (which sorta made me feel like I was walking into the lion's den) to record "Too Sexy Sadie". Luckily, I had S.M.E. and Portia there with me, or I would've died or something. That was sorta fun.

And then it was back to the studio to help Chaz with "Ruby". I was there until about 2:00 in the morning. Busy, busy day. Some things never change, however, as I looked up and noticed Chaz covertly checking out Sadie's butt. And he thinks she doesn't notice. Well, Chazzy, here's a newsflash... She notices and she thinks of it, okay, babe? So she's already thinking ahead...

Anyways, Sadie and her Boyz drama aside, I knew why Chaz was there. And it wasn't just to check out my sister so openly she blushed. I think Sadie's forgotten how anyways... He just wanted to get away from Tommy the perfectionist and the smelly studio C. 'Cause you can bet he doesn't have another song to record just yet, and, well, that's where he'd go. Plus, we were all up 'til two in the morning together, and trust me, that's not as fun as it ought to be. Chaz has reached the point of saturation where he doesn't want to see Tommy anymore. I suppose that makes sense. He went from not seeing Tommy at all to working with him all day. I reached the point of saturation Day One. And then I hit it again after my birthday... And then towards the end of the album.

So, naturally, I rolled my eyes at Chaz' antics. "Man, save the concern. I know you're just putting off going to the studio because you don't want to see Tommy or even think about music. Anyways, you want a pancake?" I said nonchalantly. Chaz flushed a little, looking somewhat embarrassed at being so transparent. He didn't accept my offer for a pancake. Oh well, his loss. I make killer pancakes. After all, Mom taught me, and she makes the best crêpes in the world. Mm, mm, mmmm, good.

I glared at him and suddenly noticed that his bruise was seemingly gone. So the boy wears make-up. Curious. "So, Chaz, how much cover-up did you have to apply to cover up the bruise Tommy gave you?" I questioned smugly. Ha ha. A Boy wearing make-up. Though, come to think of it, I bet he's worn a lot of make-up in his days... Hmm, do you think he's a metro? That might explain the rumors...

Chaz gave me a look, reminding me why he'd gotten punched. Well, come to think of it, it wasn't really my fault. I mean, he didn't have to kiss me. And he didn't have to say those things to Tommy. He knows better than to piss Tommy off. But who knows better than Chaz how to push Tommy's buttons and say just the right thing? And he definitely shouldn't have tried to punch Tommy. That was just retarded. Not that I'm insulting any, um, mentally-challenged people or anything. That's just a ticket for an ass-kicking.

I refused to let Chaz drive my car (not when Darius taught him how to drive!), or for that matter, take me to school. I even refused to let him follow me. I told him to go home and get some sleep. He actually thought that you always have to show up to the studio on time, well, I corrected that flawed vision. You don't have to. Not after you were up that late, laying down a track. Unless you're Tommy the Perfectionist. No, really... When we were singing "Minor Liaison", he rerecorded a word sometimes, like twelve times, despite all his bragging... Just so he got the sound he wanted. He is really that much of a nitpicker.

Well, at least you don't have to do that at G. Major with Georgia in charge. I think Darius instilled this psycho work ethic in the guys, you know, not wanting to waste a second of their precious studio time. Damn profit margins. I'm not really too fond of Darius at the moment. For, you know, shacking up with Georgia's sister. That's so not cool. And so much like Tommy it hurts me to think about it. Actually, I had to be at school early today anyways.

Joan, Kyle, and I were going to jam in the Music room for a while, because I managed to sequester his presence for my song. Let's just say he has a very lenient art teacher who happens to be a huge fan. Makes me wish I was in Art, really. I got there, bag of clothes in hand, guitar over the other, and met up with Kyle in front of my locker. I opened it and threw my homework inside. I found a note sitting on top of the bare shelf at the top of it.

It was folded complicatedly. I opened it while Kyle laughed at the pictures of him in my locker (I had a rather large one with a few small ones surrounding it and the words "My Hero" underneath it). Then he saw the pictures of Speed and the giant X through the pictures of Shay... Though the pictures of Shay were pretty stupid. Him falling off the stage and what not. I didn't have any words under Speed except Speed, because that's really the only word you can use to describe him. And then there's the pics of Wally (his has "My Lover" under it. Wally would really get a kick out of that). You see, it's sort of a running joke that Wally and I have a thing going on.

We got really close during the tour. And while I might regard Kyle as my hero, my protector from the perverted guys on tour... Wally was definitely my best bud. You would think I'd say that about Speed, but, well, Speed's a little too much to handle 'bout half the time. Since Shay was a primadonna, he took up the only private bedroom. Even Darius was appalled by that, and that's saying something. So there were three beds and four of the rest of us.

Naturally, none of the other boys wanted to sleep with each other. Obviously. But every now and then I needed a little space, so I made 'em double up. Or, despite the fact that the windowseats were incredibly uncomfortable and you were very likely to fall off while sleeping on one (Darius had hired two drivers, so that one of them could drive at night so we could make the venue dates), one of 'em would try and sleep on them. Usually, however, I bedded with Wally.

Man, that sounds wrong. And sick. But, don't get me wrong, there's nothing like that going down with Wally and me. In reality, there were a variety of reasons for this. One being the very practical reason that Wally's the smallest. Another being the fact that Kyle has a girlfriend and Speed is, well, not exactly the best candidate to share a bed with. He thrashes about violently while he sleeps. Aside from that, Speed's like... the biggest perv ever. And in case you're wondering... Shay snores, really loud. Not that he was even an option...

Which is why I slept with Wally. He's the youngest, you know, and he had the smallest bunk, so we were pretty much packed in there like sardines. Not that I really think Wally minded much. I had some good times with him, really. Like the pillowfights... The other guys got so jealous, especially Speed. The man is needy. Always has to be the center of attention...

Anyways, once again, to my surprise, the note was from Kat and had probably been slipped in my locker at some time yesterday.

- Hey Jude (ha ha)...

How are you? Um, good, I hope?

Look, I'm just gonna come right out and say it... I miss you. And fighting with you sucks.

You were totally right about me and Jamie. And, if you say nothing happened, we ought to believe you over the tabloids. Period. Though if you wanna tell your girl Kat what actually went down, that's cool too (Hint, hint). Jamie's too stubborn. He refuses to admit he was wrong. I don't know what's wrong with him... It's like, every new guy he sees you with makes him madder and madder. He's taking it personally.

Which is completely stupid, 'cause I know you, girl, and you aren't like that at all. I don't buy into that stuff about you being a slut. I know you're not hooking up with Speed or Mason (though Mason's a cutie!). And Shay is so last year, am I right? And you and Tommy... Well, that is a very slippery slope, so I'm not gonna push it.

But you and Chaz? I saw those pictures... Pretty hot, Harrison. Is there anything going on there? Anyways, now that I've thoroughly gone over your love-life, can you meet me in the library during Study Hall tomorrow?

- Katerina Benson xoxoxoxo

I smiled at the note, realizing just how much I missed Kat. I refolded the note and shoved it in my pocket, shutting the locker door. It would be nice to see her then. Plus I needed a girl at the filming today for moral support. Preferably Kat, so she ensures that they don't put me in any skank wear. I want to wear a Kat design. Hey, why can't she be my stylist? Who is my stylist, though? I mean, 'cause there's Portia and E.J., but E.J.'s really more of a PR person.

Anyways, Kyle and I made our way to the Music room. Miraculously, it was unlocked, but all the lights were off. And unless Joan was a vampire, I doubted she was here yet (I was later to learn that Joan was rarely on time for anything, a fact which frustrated her to no end). So Kyle and I set my stuff down and were about to start a conversation when the lights turned on and we ducked behind the desks in the back corner.

Don't ask me why we did it... Or, wait, I know why I did it... It was Travis, of course. Kyle and the other guys had absolutely no problem with him, which pissed me off to no end, except, of course, for the fact that the entire school was crushing on him. But it wasn't just Travis. A brunette was hot on his heels, and he looked really pissed off about it. I'm talking about as pissed as when I compare him to Tommy or child molesters, okay? Combined. Yeah, that bad...

She was of average height, I guess. Her hair went down to about chest level, and her hair looked a lot like Joan's hair did most days, except for the fact that the mystery woman's hair was straighter and less messy than Joan's (a direct result of Joan stumbling out of bed every morning). In fact, she looked a little like Joan. Not so much that you'd say they were twins, but not so little that you couldn't find a resemblance. The woman also had these intense blue eyes, which were at present darkened and a bit wet-looking. She was wearing long black pants and a low-cut green tank-top.

"Travis, I want you back!" The woman pleaded, clearly on very intimate terms with Mr. Q. Jeez, desperate much? Apparently Quinn thought the same thing, because he turned around to glare at her. Let me tell you, I thought he glared at me with anger... I have never seen so much rage directed at one person before. Yowch. What did she do to him?

His facial expression was completely hard, cold, and stubborn. "And you think quoting a Backstreet Boys' song will achieve that?" He scoffed viciously. Apparently his hatred of boybands isn't just limited to Boyz Attack! You've got to give it to him, though, that was a good comeback. He rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. "Did you ever know me?" He asked rhetorically, mocking her. Every cell in his body exuded fury. She looked a bit hurt, not that I could blame her.

His tone was so curt, so rude, so harsh, so utterly impolite! Ha, and you thought he was cordial before! There was most definitely an interesting story behind it... Whyever it was that he was being an ass to her. I shot a glance to Kyle, silently asking if he wanted to leave.

He firmly shook his head no. Well, what can you say... The boy likes his soap operas, and this one's just getting juicy. I vaguely wished I had popcorn. "Travis, I mean it!" The poor, dumb girl continued on tearfully, yet determined. Doesn't she see he's not interested? They probably had a one night stand or something. She sounds a lot like an ex, after all. That statement only managed to set him off more. Ooh, is she in for it!

Man, that's sad... I know him better than his old ex-girlfriend. Eew, creepy. He glowered at her, clenching his fists tightly against his sides. A storm of frustration swirled around him. "Why are you doing this now, Kate? You're a bit late. Did you suddenly remember, oh, yeah, I almost married Travis five years ago... Thought I'd still be available? Well, I'm not. So leave," He growled frostily. His look betrayed not even an ounce of kindness, and there wasn't any there. He honestly just wanted her to go.

Whoa, wait... Almost married? He was engaged! What the hell happened? And since when is that asshole dating anyone? Unless he's a liar... But, honestly, why would anyone want to marry him!

Well, maybe, Jude, maybe, just maybe... He wasn't always this much of an ass. Maybe you're an exception. Did you ever think of that? He's cute, he sings, he plays the guitar, he's educated, good with kids, and he's wicked smart. Not to mention anti-social and cocky as hell and absolutely terrible with women... I guess he's your dream guy if you like 'em neurotic. Well, bully for him!

And five years ago? He must've changed. He had to have changed. Right? But the real question was this... Why had she waited so long to come see him?

The girl, or Kate, I guess her name was, placed her hands on her hips. She shot Travis a level look, challenging him. Wow, she actually looks more self-assured than he does. But she must have a good reason. She wasn't smug. She wasn't anything, really... Just so sober. It was admirable. Her lips were a thin line, and she looked annoyed."I know you're single," She stated matter-of-factly, not a trace of doubt evident in her tone.

Travis looked really taken aback. What, he was stupid enough to think she'd take him at his word? She obviously didn't. You know, I'm beginning to think that this is the perfect woman for him. For a minute, it seemed like he'd lost his famed composure. He sputtered around pointlessly for a few moments, and then he just didn't say anything. He stared silently into space, deliberately avoiding her stare.

Aside from the fact that he sputtered when she said that, it was obvious that he really was single. For one thing, he's never mentioned a girl in class. Or any personal details or stories for that matter. Well, except for that thing with Joan yesterday and... Was he talking about this girl then? Probably...

And there's no pictures around the room or anything... No personal effects. We've never seen a girl even around him until now. He doesn't flirt with the other teachers... Hell, he barely talks to them most of the time. I wasn't kidding about him being anti-social, you know.

Plus... Come on... I look at him, and I see a toxic bachelor. Not as toxic as Tommy, but poisonous enough to kill you with one fatal bite. Besides... What girl would actually want to be with a guy like him? He can't have any relationships that outlast a month... He's such an ass once you get to know him!

And then, just when it looked like he was going to, oh, I don't know... Give in to her or something... but for only a second. He looked up, and their gazes locked. Something intense, something raw, something electric passed between them. "Deny it all you want. She's better than you in every conceivable way! She's beautiful, spirited, intelligent, sexy, honest, and... We actually have things in common! She takes my breath away... Oh, and she's not a slut like you!" Travis snapped virulently. At first, his voice was a low tone, which then took on the passion of new love, and then was charged with raw anger.

I wondered vaguely if there actually was another woman. At least some of that had sounded real. This was so much better than a soap opera. Kate took a step back, looking hurt. I felt bad for her. She didn't look like she deserved the title of slut. She didn't look like a slut at all. In fact, she looked nice. Like a girl I would be friends with if I was older, maybe... "Your mother told me you were still available," She persisted stubbornly, though the tears in her eyes almost betrayed her.

I felt my heartstrings twinge for her. But, unlike me, Quinn had no mercy. He was surpassing even the level of ass that I knew him as, which is saying a lot. It occurred to me, however, that the feelings must've run very deep between them at one point for her to deserve all this hatred. Quinn's lips tightened at the mention of his mother, outraged that his own mother had betrayed him. But if even his own mother was in favor of him hooking back up with someone who had cheated on him, then this Kate must be a good person. It must've been some kind of fluke or something. Well, either that or his mom's effed up, which, given how weird he acts, would make a lot of sense...

"I don't tell my mother everything," He sneered, glaring at her harshly. For a moment, it seemed as if Kate wobbled, like she lost a bit of her confidence or something, but Kate held her ground. She looked back up at Quinn, even though I could tell it hurt her, and she didn't back down. This disheartened Travis somewhat, but he said nothing. Kate took a shaky breath, trying to hold back the flood of tears threatening to fall from her eyes, and then she spoke.

"I know you're lying, Travis!" Kate cried, sounding more desperate than she meant. I couldn't tell who she was trying to convince, herself or him. But she definitely couldn't fight the tears much longer. Her cheeks were pink and flushed, and suddenly she was in his personal space, throwing him radically out of his comfort zone. Looking at her, I saw myself. Not that I was in love with Travis or anything stupid like that... But it just hit me all of the sudden that Kate was head-over-heels, madly, insanely in love with the guy.

But I'd been in those very shoes, with a man who looked very much like Tall, Dark, and Surly over there only a few days earlier. And my heart had been broken, and we'd both screwed up... But I was in love with him.

Hmm, I'm in love with an idiot, and Kate's in love with an asshole. Who would've thunk it? Travis frowned, eyes narrowed. He had no mercy, only rage. He needs to get over himself. Badly. Something about him seemed to change. "Yeah... Okay? You caught me. I haven't dated anyone since you. There, you happy!" He snarled furiously, practically shouting in her face.

Kate took a step back, looking very unhappy indeed. Her skin was pale now. She was sweating a little. She looked somewhat taken aback, surprised by his sudden change in moods. She trembled a little and took a deep, shuddering breath. "No, I'm not... I've been miserable ever since you left me," Kate murmured weakly, wrapping her arms around herself for support and warmth. Yet still, she shivered. She was crying out for an embrace, but Travis either didn't notice or didn't care. I felt for Kate.

Quinn just rolled his eyes. I couldn't believe it! He actually doubted her sincerity? Couldn't he see that the poor girl wasn't lying? Didn't he know anything about girls at all? Obviously not. A smarter man would've taken her back by now. "Please, Kate. You've been really miserable ever since he dumped you. That was the one thing that helped me deal... That he would dump you just as carelessly as you'd dropped me," Travis scoffed bitterly, casting a glare in her direction. Kate looked down, consumed by guilt.

She didn't look up, but she sniffled slightly. "Travis... It was never about him. It was always you..." She whispered softly, before carefully looking up at Travis' face. She sounded like a character straight out of a romance novel, but I suppose it suited her. He was frowning, his brow furrowed. Her eyes must've communicated her high level of vulnerability, because his face softened just a little. Maybe there's hope for Kate after all... I was rooting for her.

Travis thought for a second, and then all traces of softness were gone once more. There wasn't much of a struggle between his feelings. He knew exactly what he was doing, and there would be no deviation from that plan. His eyes narrowed slightly. He pursed his lips, poised to continue his assault. "You can't say that, Kate! You broke my heart because of him... You gave up on what we had... for him," He shouted, saying the word "him" with an uncomparable venom. A shiver went down my spine.

Had I ever hated someone that much? It didn't seem like it... I had most certainly never said anything like that. Hmm, who knew he ever had a heart to break? Kate's eyes shown with tears. "I'm sorry, Travis! I'm so sorry... I made a mistake then. I... I still love you!" Kate declared, throwing herself upon Travis' nonexistent mercy. I winced, anticipating that what was to follow wouldn't be pretty.

Travis glowered at her, disbelieving. If this was a romance, this is the part where he'd take her into his arms and... Well, you know. But if I've learned anything, it's that life isn't a romance novel. If anyone knows that, it's me. "You can't take it back, though, Kate! That doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me. But, you know what... That's not even what bothers me the most about it. What bothers me is that you knew... You knew how every girlfriend I've ever had has used me, abused me, cheated on me... You knew and... You still... But, you know what, that's not even it! I might've understood, maybe, if it had been anyone else. But no, you picked a regular winner, now didn't you, Kate? Out of six billion people, you pick my best friend!" Travis hissed, seething. He made exasperated, angry hand gestures, unconsciously getting closer to his old flame.

A few tears slipped down Kate's cheeks, unbidden. Ooh, ouch... His best friend? That's low, but is it really that bad? I mean, Kate wasn't in love with the guy or anything... right? I think he's just bitter about something. Though come to think of it, he's always been bitter, ever since I've known him. "I'm sorry... It was just a moment of weakness... and he was there. I was scared, Travis... I got cold feet. It should never have happened," Kate explained, bottom lip trembling. Travis only glared more fiercely. Apparently this wasn't a sufficent excuse. As for me, I was waiting to hear what she'd done.

He put his hands on his hips, and his eyes bored into her like drills. She shuddered involuntarily, but Travis came closer. Did he know that he was doing that? Or maybe that's why he came closer to her... Maybe he still has feelings for her. And maybe he still hates to see her in pain. His telltale eyes blazed, and then he struck. "When most brides get cold feet, they generally don't attempt to have sex with the best man," He snapped, shooting her a frosty look. He turned his back on her, walking away a little.

Okay, so THAT's what she did. Well, it could be worse, I guess. Like if the guy was his dad or his brother or something. I don't think you can go much lower than sleeping with someone's parent, you know. Well, maybe grandparent. Kate flushed a brilliant, dull red. She looked embarrassed and remorseful. The more I found out, the more interested I was. "It wasn't like we'd been carrying on behind your back for weeks... It came out of nowhere..." She said, trying to justify it... Or maybe clarify it.

Travis got vicious then. He turned around in an instant, charged. His limbs were heavy and lean. "Oh, but you had been! Don't you get it! Do you think I'm blind; that I couldn't see the way he looked at you! I know that look! That look has cost me every girl that's ever mattered to me! The only difference was that he waited to make his move this time. I warned you. I knew he would make a pass at you. But you didn't listen. You just laughed at me. And now look... No one's laughing," Travis growled, going off into a rant. He started off mad, but he finished melancholic.

Kate nodded at his last statement, wiping at a stray tear. No one was laughing. In fact, Kyle was getting a bit misty-eyed. Okay, so I take that back... I was smirking at him. So I was about ready to start laughing. Which, of course, I couldn't do. Or Travis would realize that we were here. And I didn't want to die this early in the morning. Or a virgin, but that's a story for another day.

"It wasn't planned! It just happened! Sometimes, Travis, things just happen!" Kate shrieked somewhat hysterically. Yeah, don't I know it! Oh, wait... Sorry, never happened. Yeah, just like all of yesterday. What's the bet that Tommy and me never talk about it? Hmm... Easiest money I've ever made. Jeez, she reminds me of me. Sort of. But Travis is even more stubborn than Tommy is, I'll bet. And talking to Tommy about such things is like talking to a brick wall, so it'll be ten times worse with Travis. Like Roman concrete... Ancient, but rock-hard and still together.

"You mean you didn't plan it. He couldn't have planned it better if he tried. He didn't hit on you right away, so I was lulled into a false sense of security. Then he deliberately made his move right before the wedding, when you were weak, trusting, and vulnerable. He picked a place where I would be sure to find you because he knew I couldn't go through with it without seeing you first. God, in a church, of all places! Much less a confessional! And you didn't even have the decency to take your wedding dress off!" Travis snarled, glowering at her. He looked mad enough to hit someone. Namely whoever this guy was...

Ooh, the wedding day, in the confessional, wearing the dress, with the best man. That's pretty tawdry. This story just gets juicier and juicier. Kate's cheeks heated up further. She looked disgusted with herself, and she wasn't the only one. The way Quinn was looking at her made me feel cheap. Kate started to say something... I don't know what... Probably another apology, but Travis cut her off faster than a butcher.

"And it wasn't just a kiss... When you said you were waiting until your wedding day, I kind of thought you meant with me on the wedding night, not with my best friend just minutes before our wedding!" Travis hissed, eyes narrowed. Kate froze, and she finally broke down into a fit of tears. But Kate was stubborn, I'll give her that. She didn't let a little thing like that stop her. Wait, so she was waiting... Ooh... That's even WORSE.

"Don't make it sound like that!" Kate shrieked, wiping furiously at her eyes. Travis' lips curled into a sneer as he crossed his arms over his chest. He took a step forward, and then another, and then another. Kate backed up, obviously feeling threatened. She was a mess. Not that I could blame her... For either, especially backing up. I mean, I did that when he came at me.

"Sound like what?" Travis prodded, giving her a searching look. Kate blinked at him, looking betrayed and panicked. She bit her lip and sighed.

"Like I'm some whore!" Kate screamed, forcing the tears back. Okay, now I can definitely sympathize with her. Except I haven't even slept with one guy. Not that I know how many Kate has... Uh, ew. I mean, the media's saying all sorts of wild things about me. There's Tommy, Shay, Chaz, Mason, Speed, Boyz Attack! Hmm, am I leaving anyone out? But, then again, I have kissed all of them except Mason and, uh, the other three guys...

But a kiss doesn't equal sex, you know what I'm saying? Travis raise an eyebrow. "Well, if the shoe fits..." He murmured, shooting her a look. I winced. That was just cruel. Kate swallowed hard, but said nothing. Then again, what do you say to that? She really didn't know. But she had to try, didn't she?

And just like when I'd made a fool of myself chasing after Tommy... I saw it. I saw the trainwreck headed her way. I knew she was going to crash and burn here. She threw herself upon his mercy. Like in poker, she'd put in all her chips; she was all in and fully invested in the situation. She approached him suddenly, so suddenly that at first, he made no movements. Then her hands crashed down on his shoulders, gripping him tight. She really wanted him that bad.

"Travis, I'm sorry... I'm human, and I made a stupid mistake, okay? But I love you, Travis, and that's not going to change," Kate implored boldly. Well, girl's got guts! Yeah, so much guts that she did something very stupid. Very stupid and impulsive. In fact, she kinda pulled a me. You know, a Jude? Okay, so apparently you don't know! It's where you kiss someone, just BAM, you do it. Even though you shouldn't... Got it?

Kate grabbed Travis. She wrapped an arm around his neck, and then swooped in for the kill. Or should I say the kiss... Kate wasn't just going at it half-assed. She was throwing everything she had into that kiss. And Quinny... Well, he wasn't exactly holding back himself. Okay, so he was assaulting her mouth like there was no tomorrow, but still... Actually, I had to stop Kyle from making cat-calls. And then I had the even harder task of stopping myself from vomiting and trying really hard to look away.

Not that it worked. It was like a car accident. In some aspects beautiful, in others sick... But the overall effect was that you couldn't stop looking at it. Beautiful or not, it was still fascinating to watch such destruction. Naturally, Quinn ended the beautiful moment. He broke the kiss, looking somewhat flustered and more than a little disgruntled. Immediately, he took steps to move away from his former love. Kate didn't follow him. She was smiling off absently into space. I pitied her.

Travis paced around in a circle for a while. That was sort of entertaining. It's like... he actually had nothing to say for once in his life. Shocking, I know. But he recovered... They always do, don't they? He rounded in on Kate again, an uncaring look on his face. His eyes narrowed to zero in on her. Kate grew oddly confident under his stare. I can't say I would've done the same. "So, was he good?" He asked, blunt as ever, speaking slowly so there was no way she'd misunderstand.

Kate paled drastically. Ah, good luck. The look on her face was sheer mortification. Seriously, it made Tommy's look of fear look brave. Or, uh, some analogy that makes sense, maybe. She was silent for a long, long moment. Then a look of calm, cool composure came over her face. "Excuse me?" She exclaimed loudly, only a moment later, shooting all that reservation to Hell.

Travis just gave her a distant glance. He blinked once, twice, three times... He frowned for a moment and looked down contemplatively. A moment later, in an obvious flash of inspiration, he looked up and their eyes locked. Travis shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you were willing to risk our marriage for one roll in the hay with him... So I assume you thought it was worth the risk... was it?" Travis sneered through slits for eyes, judging her. Well, that's a special way of putting it.

Kate paled again. She struggled with words and eventually shook her head no, but only weakly. "Nothing's worth losing you," She mumbled in a dreamy tone, looking down ashamedly. In my infinite brilliance, I noticed that she hadn't answered his question. I don't think it's intentional. She wiped in vain at a stray tear that had already slipped all the way down her cheek. Quinn rolled his eyes. She loved him so much! Why didn't he see that! Tinged by my own frustration, I felt a touch of anger for her.

Smooth as ever, Travis pointed out what I had oh-so astutely observed. "Oh, but Kate, you didn't answer my question..." His words were careless and mocking, yet carefully measured out and perfectly timed. His delivery was stellar, and I can't stand it in the slightest. I can't stand him either. Well, he has a point. You can't exactly argue with him there, you know... But all you had to do was take one look at that poor girl's face to see how much it was killing her. Quinn walked closer, his face screwed up in consternation.

He was cold as ice and stubborn as a mule to boot. His stare pierced through her. It hurt to watch. "Was. He. Better. Than. Me?" Quinn snapped in a hiss, getting up in her face. Each word was sharp at to the point. The words cut at her fragile spirit. Every enunciation and denunciation from his lips made her jump, made her shudder, made her tremble like she was in pain. And she was.

I didn't get how she could just let him push her around like that. How she could just let him treat her like crap! Tommy treated me bad sometimes, but I didn't let him get away with comments like that. Not ever. But compared to how Quinn was treating Kate, I was getting off pretty well. I mean, Tommy's just dating my sister and being very confused and toying with my emotions. He isn't yelling at me like this, about one step away from smacking me silly. No, this... This should be a crime.

I've never seen so much hatred collected in one place in my whole life. And that's saying something.

Kate shook her head weakly, not daring to look up. The tears were pouring down her face with reckless abandon. But, of course, Quinny didn't care. I swear, I wanted to slug him. I wanted to punch him into next week. "I love you," She repeated stubbornly, wrapping her arms around herself, looking sick and lonely. She sniffled softly, but still didn't meet his eyes. She was still so ashamed. Oh, come on... Seriously! I mean, hello, Tommy's slept with my sister and I, uh, hm... Well, I realize that he's slept with all of Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward's Island... And all of Montreal and Vancouver (Chaz did say they spent an awfully long time there while he had "writer's block"), and like, half of Ontario and Alberta at least. So I can't really hold it against her.

I mean, it's not her fault her boyfriend's just a straight-up whore, now is it? I suppose he's gotten better since the Boyz Attack! days. Anyways, honestly, it was just ONE guy. That truly pales in comparison to Tommy's conquests. And, hey, if you're already blaming your ex-best friend, then why are you taking it out on her, the innocent victim in all this, who UNBELIEVABLY still loves you after all those years? God, he's even more of a dumbass than I thought.

True love doesn't just appear whenever you want it. It hits you like a mack truck regardless of whether you want it to or not. And you have to deal with it somehow. True love isn't like a lightning bolt. It usually DOESN'T strike twice in the same place. You either got it, or, well, you don't. And that's it. So how stupid do you have to be to turn your back on it?

It appears that you have to be Travis stupid.

His eyes narrow even further than before. "That doesn't mean anything," He bit back, practically foaming at the mouth. He paused, shaking his head. His eyes urged her on vindictively. "You still could have thought him better." His phrasing was odd... But Kate shook her head no once more, becoming meeker and meeker.

"Why? I'd undo him if I could, Travis... But you... I don't regret anything about you," Kate questioned plaintively. She finally looked up, a look of undescribable sadness etched in her pretty features. There was this look of incredible love in her eyes, and you could see that she was still hoping for a reunion. But that clearly wasn't in the cards. I pitied her for that. I heard Kyle sniffle next to me, and I smiled. Softie. I hugged Kyle randomly, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Luckily, neither of our guests heard us... Intense moments and all that.

Travis looked somewhat affected by her sincere words. Maybe she had melted his frozen heart after all. Or maybe it was just gas or something, because the look passed as soon as it had come. "Save it, Kate. You hurt me so bad I still carry around the scars. Because of you... Because of you, I can't trust anyone anymore. And I hate you for that. So you know what I'd undo, huh, Kate? Our entire relationship," Travis countered mercilessly, spitting the words out like swords.

He paused, sneering at her. A grim, cruel grin overtook his face. His eyes glinted maliciously. "I'd rather date a high schooler than you," He sneered, rolling his eyes and turning up his nose. Kate looked somewhat offended, in fact, she looked like she was about to actually make a comment about him like I would. But Kate wasn't me... She was a lot smarter, well, in some respects... So she kept her big mouth shut.

And then the door creaked open, interrupting the tense moment. Ironically enough, it was a high schooler... A high schooler very familiar to both me and Quinny-poo. Joan walked in. Joan looked sort of edgy today (probably since she'd gotten up earlier and had more time to get ready) in this black and pink number... Black eyeliner like mine, bright pink eyeshadow, soft pink lipstick. You know, a sort of a theme, very rock 'n' roll, but with a sort of hot pink femininity to it. Joan's got a thing for bright colors, I guess.

You should've seen the way he looked at her. It was... Not right in the slightest. You could put him in jail for a look like that. I hated the way he made it look all casual, the way his eyes flicked over her. Joan flushed, glancing between them awkwardly. She was obviously expecting me and Kyle instead of Quinn, but it wasn't a completely unwelcome sight. After all, he wasn't ugly in the slightest. Come to think of it, I admitted grudgingly that he looked particularly good today, almost as if he was really trying hard for... whatever reason. His reasons usually suck anyways.

Kate, however, was a bit of a surprise. Neither of them looked too happy about seeing the other, which is completely stupid as they didn't know each other at all. But I guess it was women's intuition, being able to seek out your rivals immediately. Joan, of course, wouldn't admit to having any feelings for the louse of a professor... But my woman's intuition was telling me that she did, and I knew I was right.

Travis pointed at Joan possessively, shooting a smug look at Kate. Fire danced in his flickering eyes. That's when I knew he was up to something evil. "Like her." That was all he said before he strode over and took charge of the situation. Joan's eyes filled with panic. Now Joan was probably just about one of the most mellow people I know. I've never really seen her even that angry before. So Joan losing her cool and completely panicking was a pretty damn big deal.

Travis was far too close for Joan's liking. I sympathized. What he did next made me think that he'd finally lost his mind. He actually leaned in to kiss her. Joan's eyes widened exponentially, and she backed away so fast you'd think she was a ninja or something. I wanted to applaud her, but Travis apparently wanted to go for a second round. This time she dodged to the left. Not that that deterred him. She swerved to the right, effectively evading him.

Then he came at her head on, and there really was nowhere for her to go this time. At the last possible second, she ducked and slid under his legs, practically running past Kate. Her guitar lay forgotten on the floor in her haste. Though, really, you can see why she'd want to run away from him. I had a feeling I'd have to pop up and put a stop to this sometime soon. And I was right, of course.

Travis grabbed Joan and leaned in slowly, like he was savoring the moment. Yep, that's my cue. I shot up like some whacked-out firework, dragging Kyle in my wake. He was looking at me like I was a crazy person, but that wasn't exactly anything new. "Seriously, are you trying to go to jail?" I exclaimed blithely, smirking when he turned to face me. Joan took the opportunity to elbow him in the stomach, breaking free, and then swooping down to get her guitar. She came bounding over to me as if her shoes were on fire, a grateful look plastered across her face.

"Jude!" She yelled, running and sort of hiding behind me. She tried to smile, but it came out looking sort of strained. Not that I could blame her. Quinn was glowering at me. Well, sorry I ruined your big romantic interlude with Joan. Actually, no, I'm really not sorry. Plus, Joan was fighting him off... I was only helping her a little. This cements it, though. He's got a thing for her all right. Kate looked at me, and her jaw dropped.

"Is that Jude Harrison?" She muttered, blinking in disbelief. Travis took about two seconds to glare at her and then resumed glaring at me. I nodded, waving at her, a bright smile plastered on my face. His glare intensified, and I blew him a kiss. Yep, that only served to piss him off more. It felt good now, but I had a feeling I'd pay for it later.

Oh, did I mention that Wally, Speed, and Kyle all actually like Quinn? I mean, Speed's jealous of the female attention he gets... And Kyle thinks he's a bit of a pretty boy. And Wally thinks that someone needs to seriously deflate his ego periodically, but they all like him... It's like they don't even see him!

"Yep! Nice to meet you, Kate! I have to say, Travis has told us absolutely nothing about you..." I proclaimed cheerily, smiling at the look of irritation on my evil teacher's face. Kate realized right then that we'd both probably heard everything they'd said and flushed pink. A moment or two later, the same thought occurred to Travis, whose face turned bright red. If she was embarrassed, he was humiliated. He'd never been so open around anyone, after all, much less me, his nemesis.

Well, aside from that one guy who nailed Kate. Or, whatever... Joan smiled nervously, speaking up, "Um, we just came here to practice... For class today... You know, the performance. Uh, so, um... I think I'm just going to go now and, uh, leave you to your a-ad-dult, um... business... Yeah," Joan mumbled, eyes darting around for a second before she dashed out the door like a rabbit would. She's only been here two seconds and already leaving? Damn, and I thought I hated school!

I realize that it's awkward when your teacher tries to kiss you. But remember, mine actually has. And I'm here... somehow. I guess I'm determined not to fail, because, seriously, how bad does it look if you have a double platinum CD and are flunking music? Of course, I have neither a double platinum (let alone platinum) CD or an F in music, but still...

Joan doesn't have to worry about it, though, because he likes her... So he won't flunk her. I frowned a little. "You know, I really think you should forgive Kate. It's not like you're exactly the most innocent man on the planet yourself... I mean, you look at one more sixteen-year-old like that, and they'll have to send you to the clink. Much less touching one in such an inappropriate way?" I advised coolly, levelling my gaze.

Quinn scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Harrison?" He muttered, half under his breath. Seriously, did he just say that to me? He's the pervert here... Hitting on sixteen-year-olds! Honestly, I'm like eight... nine years younger than him! Cradlerobber. And Joan too! He's not just a cradlerobber, he's a jerk too! And a player! At least I actually want to kiss Tommy.

"Oh, you take it for granted that I won't say a word... But it's me who has been taken advantage of, and for that, don't you doubt that I won't tell..." I hummed merrily, fixing him with a look. I glanced anxiously over at Kyle, praying that he didn't understand what I meant by it. I didn't even know if he'd heard the song. I hoped he hadn't, at least... I smirked satisfactorily as my evil teacher's face paled dramatically. Oh, come on... Kissing me was like an invitation to get himself fired and then to have Tommy Two-Time go all jealous and beat his skinny ass. I don't get why he'd make a stupid risk like that.

I mean, teachers don't make a lot of money... He's not exactly living comfortably. And they don't look kindly on teachers who date their students, so that would hinder finding another job because he'd be a sexual predator. He's not like Tommy, who's freelance and can leave whenever the hell he likes. And I know he's going to have to leave some day, because he'll have screwed me up that bad. It's really just a matter of time. But as for Quinn, he's pretty much tied down here. But maybe he has family money or something... I mean, the guy drives a Viper like Tommy's.

Damn it! I said I wasn't going to do this! I said I wasn't going to compare them because Tommy is so... Not Quinn. Augh, there goes the damn comparisons again. Makes me want to pull my hair out. And despite whatever my dumbass teacher thinks is going on... it isn't... And if I compare them, then that means I'm actually considering him as an option, and I'm so totally not, and I'm really talking here in circles, aren't I? I mean, can you say run-on sentence?

The tension in the room was... Deafening. Especially as two of the parties (the two Ks) had no idea what in the hell was going on here. Something had to give. Predictably, it was Travis. In a flash, there he was, standing by the door. If you blinked, you would've missed the flurry of movement. He was obviously uncomfortable having me and his ex-flame in the same room, especially since he'd sorta bared his soul about the whole thing and revealed a ton of personal information in our presence... Information that could be used against him so easily.

"I'm going to check on Joan. She didn't look so good," He mumbled quickly, fiddling with the doorknob for a second (his fingers were shaking), and then fleeing. I think he was actually running. The door swang shut of its own accord, and then things really got weird. The first thing I think we were all wondering was if that was just an excuse to get out... or if he really meant it. I had a sneaking suspicion he did, and you can only guess what he means by "checking on her". Then we were all sort of mulling over just exactly what it was he felt for Joan... Whatever it was, it wasn't legal, 'mmmkay?

And then Kate seemed to have some sort of epiphany about God knows what... Probably involving Travis. She burst into loud, noisy tears as if she was trying to call him back to her. Kyle and I exchanged anxious looks, wondering what to do. Somehow, we decided silently to approach Kate cautiously. Kate saw us, and the tears slowed down. Kyle gently shoved me forward. He was uncomfortable comforting crying girls. Like me when I found out that Tommy and Sadie were together in Europe.

Kate looked up at me, heartbroken, pained eyes filled with tears. On Friday, I was her. Ugh, don't remind me! That day was Hell on Earth. "He's not in love with me anymore, is he?" She asked through sniffles, so quietly that I felt my heart break in sympathy. I looked back at Kyle helplessly. Kyle's such a softie... So he came forward and hugged Kate, who just sobbed as he hugged her, and I patted her on the back.

After about ten minutes of this, she pulled away, shooting Kyle a weak smile of gratitude. She wiped at her eyes, somewhat embarrassed. "He's... He's in love with her, isn't he?" She asked, trying to slow her breathing down. Kyle's eyebrows shot up into his hair, and my eyes widened. I shook my head no frantically.

"He can't be! She's in my Music class! Plus they only met on Thursday... That's not enough time for love to... form," I exclaimed so passionately that Kyle jumped. Kate looked somewhat taken aback, but after a while, she contemplated it and decided to believe me. I decided that Quinn was even more of a tool than I had thought previously. "He's not worth your time anyways. He treats you like crap. He's an ass," I interjected, eyes narrowing at the mere thought of him.

Kate frowned and looked almost mad for a minute. She shook her head no... Jeez. How deep in denial is she? Is she blind? Or is her head just in the sand? Kyle snorted. "This from the girl who's in love with Mister Inaccessible himself? Honestly, doesn't the fact that his demo was called "Frozen" tell you anything? Like, oh, I don't know, about his heart?" Kyle retorted, somewhat in defense of Kate. To me, it was a bit like a slap in the face. But it was true.

And he was wrong about Tommy. Tommy was distant and cold often, yes, but he ran hot and cold. Right now, we're in a bit of a hot period. Lemme tell you, you don't wanna piss Quincy off. He keeps grudges like no one I've ever known. It's probably because he's a Scorpio. They're jealous, angry, prone to grudges, and the sex sign... Yeah, fits Tommy to a tee, doesn't it? I never realized that before.

But I just glared at Kyle, rolling my eyes. I turned to Kate. "We're going to practice for Music... You wanna listen or, I don't know, maybe jam with us?" I offered delicately. I couldn't believe it. Kate's face lit up in a bright, brilliant smile. It looked like she'd actually stopped thinking about the Asshole. Score! She nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! I love music... Yeah... Sounds nice." She said this casually and just grabbed an electric guitar like it was nothing. Like she hadn't been crying before. She was acting like a pro. A pro at music or acting I don't know, but she was sure acting like it. I wondered vaguely what she did for a living. Anyways, here's what we didn't know about Kate... She could totally rock a guitar. I'm talking Hendrix-level here. She made me feel vaguely ashamed at my playing skills (Had I ever played that fast? Ever?).

I'm meeting so many cool people this year. But I guess everyone has to meet a toad or two. Heh, like Quinny over there. Anyways, so the Asshole came back in the room, and well, this time Kate didn't wait for him to bolt. She grabbed her bag and pushed past him, smile gone from her face, muttering an apology over her shoulder. But that's okay, because she was coming to S.M.E. and Patsy's gig tonight. She said music was the only thing that ever made her happy anymore, and I could believe it by the way she played the guitar. Blues dripped from every inch of her, even her singing voice.

And judging by Quinn's horrible treatment of her, I could see why. Plus she just carried this weariness about her that probably came from guilt. She knew that it was her fault that she and Travis weren't together anymore, and I think that was what hurt most. But, to be fair, he was a jerk for not giving her a second chance. Come on, if she was willing to give HIM a second chance...

Since I had the jerk for Study Hall, I didn't really go anywhere. I just sort of sat there, stiff and frozen in the desk, glaring at him. I have never glared at someone so hard in my life. And then Jamie walked in and he just... He looked at me like I was scum. Kat shot me an apologetic look and mouthed a "sorry" while Jamie's back was turned. I knew that I was supposed to leave for the library first. I didn't have to ask... Actually, Quinn was so flustered about what I'd witnessed earlier (and something else, apparently), that he practically shoved me out of the door. I took my time malingering in the hall, walking up to my locker, and pulling the folder for the music video out.

Then I closed my locker and made my way to the library. Now, it's something not many people know, but there's this area up on the right side of the library... This sort of crawl space with plants stashed in it. Don't get me wrong, the whole library has a ring of these plants going around it, but they're real on this side... These gorgeous flowering things... It's just this one big wall. Anyways, since the plants are real, there's a crawlspace up there so that they can be replaced. There's a small section in the middle that's actually solid wall, pure white inbetween the two sections of plants. On the left side the crawlspace leads outside, to the roof.

The one on the right leads nowhere, and all the flowers are perennials, so people hardly ever come up. Anyways, I undertook the task of cleaning it up freshman year, so it's all nice now. Not really as dark as you'd think. It's not really very big or anything, and it's pretty hard to get there, but it's completely worth it. There's this old guitar I stole from the music room last year stashed up here... There's another one, a broken one that's a bit of a work-in-progress... Some notebooks, a bunch of pens and pencils, random office supplies, textbooks, my favorite books... I even found some old carpet, an ancient couch, and a chair or two and stashed them up here... Trust me, it's a long story and it involves a Saturday detention longer than the Breakfast Club's. And yes, I do realize that is quite illegal on the school's part.

Now, in order to get to my little paradise behind the plants, there are a lot of things you have to do. For starters, you have to climb up a bookcase, which must be done with utmost care... After all, if you do it wrong, it'll result in broken shelves and, possibly, broken bones. Then you must gently rise into a standing position atop the bookcase without anyone noticing or falling and breaking your neck. After you've got your balance, you have to walk to the end like an Olympic gymnast would, lean over to push a plant aside to get room, and jump up unto the platform. Then you replace the plant and meditate or whatever there is to do up here.

So you can guess what I did, can't you? I deftly scaled the bookcase like an accomplished mountain climber, pulling myself up and unto the top with a strength I didn't know I possessed. I lay there, panting slightly from exertion, flat on my back and staring at the ceiling. There was a huge skylight there, so I looked up at the not-so-clear blue sky. It was a nice day, but not a cloudless one. There were a few clouds out, white and harmless looking, but it looked much different outside. Outside you could see the storm on the way. Just a summer rainstorm really, guaranteed to be hot, humid, and steamy. It would be here by this afternoon, that's what the weathermen said, at least...

I made a face. It had just rained on Friday. Jeez, was I living in Toronto or Seattle here? Rain's connotations aren't really too hot for me right now. It makes me think of my misery, and I really hate that. I forced myself to sit up, and then, glancing around, feeling somewhat paranoid, I rose to my feet. I leaned over, throwing the file gently into the black space, then I pushed the plant aside. I jumped a little and pushed myself up and unto the ledge. I seated myself on the ledge, not caring that I was probably visible or that my feet were dangling off the edge. I reached out for the folder and opened it, looking at the pages. There were sketches of outfits, positions, places... A sort of script for the acting... A list of needed effects... Boring stuff like that. I was going to show Kat the outfits, I decided, to see what she would think.

I thought they were all way too slutty for my taste. Then again, I suppose that was the aim of the video. I sighed petulantly, covering my eyes and moaning. This is so not good for my image. I mean, if they thought I was a slut before... Now they see me going nuts around Tommy, making out and everything. Now, I'm not just saying it's the making-out that's the problem.

The problem is that like, oh, about half or something of the video is supposed to be filmed in or on a bed. Yeah. That's what kind of song I wrote my dears. Some of it's going to be in the studio, some of it's going to be in the alley... Ha, I am so screwed. And, considering the um, mature content of the video, it's supposed to be literal too. And Tommy and I in little clothing is just the sort of encouragement we need. It's like playing with fire, I'm telling you. Hella dangerous and somebody's bound to get burned.

I waited for what seemed like forever, but Kat walked in the library. I waved excitedly, dropping the file on the floor. The papers didn't spill out through some miracle. I pushed the plant back into place behind me, and, upon seeing Kat's approach, leapt off the edge, landing on my feet on the library floor. I wobbled a little... Ouch, hard landing. I guess I need some shock absorbers. I bent down to pick up the folder, and getting up, I threw my head, hair flying behind my head. Kat was gaping at me, clearly floored.

"Hardcore, Jude," Kat nodded respectfully, still a bit awed. I don't get why she was staring at me. I wasn't looking that different. Eh, see, this is what happens after you hang around Patsy and boys all day. Mind you, I've only hung out with Patsy once, in detention. But I'd been seeing S.M.E. so much they were practically my brothers by now. Kat rushed up to me, throwing her arms around me like she hadn't seen me for years. I hugged her back gratefully; I knew right then that we were cool. You have no idea how much better that made me feel.

When I wheezed, Kat sheepishly broke the hug, taking a good look at me. She frowned, walking all around me in a circle. I was a bit weirded out by this behavior (and beginning to get a little dizzy) when she stopped in front of me. "You're so skinny! Have you been eating lately?" Kat exclaimed worriedly. I rolled my eyes at her. You'd think a fashion designer would remember that black is slimming. I informed her that yes, in fact, I had been eating. A lot. Well, not that much... But a sufficient enough amount.

Kat and I walked over to a table, and I showed her the sketches. She pointed at a few she said were okay, and then shook her head, making slashing motions at outfits she thought were too slutty. I decided to ask her to come to the shoot. I needed some support there. Plus, she could help get me out of the skank-o-wear they'd be shoving at me. I bit my lip and took a deep breath. "Kat... I was wondering something. They're doing shooting for the big scenes today, and I was wondering if you would, um, maybe like to come with me? I just need someone there for support, and who better than my best friend?" I asked hesitantly.

Kat's face broke out into a wide smile, and she nodded excitedly. Then she fixed me with a knowing look. "Oh, come on... You just want me there so they don't make you dress like a prostitute," Kat teased, eyes sparkling mischievously. Okay, yeah, you got me, Kat. That and the fact that Kat makes any situation brighter. And I'm going to need someone to lighten the tension in that room.

I groaned into my hands. "They do that already," I muttered, remembering Instant Star 2. Tommy was right about me looking like a space hooker then. All of us did. Or more like strippers, I suppose. No astronauts dress like that! Seriously, they wear those clunky white suits with the oxygen helmet-masky-thingies. Kat snorted, obviously thinking I was joking. I wondered vaguely if she'd seen Instant Star. Probably not.

I looked up at Kat and sighed. "I mean, the theme of this video is me screwing Tommy... More or less. They want me in as little clothes as possible," I explained, dropping the bomb. Kat's jaw dropped, eyes widening. Ha, that's sorta like the look on Tommy's face when I hit on him! Oh, but I can continue. There's more. Prepare to be alarmed, dear. "Not that it'll help my reputation. It'll only make things worse. And I don't even want to think about what Sadie and the 'rents are going to think about it," I mumbled wearily, sighing again.

Kat frowned sympathetically, but then pursed her lips and turned to me. She wanted to ask me something, I could tell. She didn't think it was something I'd be so keen on. I tapped my fingers on the table, waiting for her to tell me what she was thinking. Kat opened her mouth but said nothing, thinking instead. "Okay... I'm gonna ask... What's really going on in your lovelife?" Kat questioned anxiously. I figured she was going to ask something like that. I sighed, thinking of how best to explain it.

"You're right... Shay is so over. I hate him. There's nothing going on with me and any of the guys in S.M.E., well, to my knowledge. I mean, sure, I've kissed Speed before, but, you know, who hasn't? Mason... I just met him the other day, but he's nice. And then there's Chaz... There's nothing really going on there. We're just friends," I began calmly. Kat raised her eyebrows, though whether it was because I admitted to kissing Speed or that she didn't believe I was just friends with Chaz, I had no clue.

"So you're seriously telling me there's nothing going on with you and Chaz? 'Cause Jamie's just a friend too, and I don't see you grinding with him..." Kat pointed out wisely. Apparently it was in a tabloid. Probably the one Tommy saw. And Jamie saw it too. Well, that's just peachy. I winced and sighed. What did she want me to say? I had no clue.

I pondered it over for a second. "Well, he kissed me the other day, but that was just to piss Tommy off, and Tommy hulked out on him about a second in... And yeesh, you should've seen the way he was checking out my sister this morning..." I rambled nonchalantly. Kat's eyes widened, but I ignored it. She was going to ask about Tommy next. Obviously. I started counting in my head, waiting to see how long it would take her to overcome the shock. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, sevente-

Hmm, she's less bold than I thought. "Speaking of the Green-Eyed Monster... What's going on with you and Tommy?" Kat blurted, wide-eyed and curious. She was wrong, though. Tommy wasn't the Green-Eyed Monster. Yeah, he was jealous... But Quinn is the green-eyed monster. Period. I rolled my eyes at her.

I sighed again. Man, I've been doing that a lot lately. "I honestly don't know... He runs so hot and cold with me. He just... He's still dating Sadie. I mean, one minute I'll be thinking there's actually something there... That I'm not just imagining it all... And then I'll remember Sadie. They've been going strong for three months. That's three times as long as Tommy's marriage... I just don't know, and that kills me. I keep telling myself to get over it, to get over him, and I try so damn hard... But I can't!" I almost shouted, languishing over it. I was so tired of feeling like this. Kat looked somewhat taken aback, but she understood.

But I decided to give her some happier news. "But that's okay... I met this guy... I really like him. His name's Tim, and he's perfect. He likes my music, he likes me... He said he's never been this connected to anyone in his life! And... I think I'm falling for him. We're going out again tomorrow," I confessed, feeling my eyes light up at the thought. Man, I guess I really am falling for him! As if my lovelife wasn't already confusing enough as it is.

Kat squealed and hugged me tightly. She smiled brightly, and practically pulled me out of the library. I was barely able to grab my folder. "I have something to show you," She whispered with a giggle. I nodded, as I had no choice but to follow her. She breezed into the fashion classroom, grabbing a few articles of clothing, and then dragged me to the bathroom. She held up each piece of clothing one at a time. There were two skirts, one that was the shortest skirt I'd ever seen, and another that was one of those pleated ones that sort of comes up all around you when you turn too fast. She had a few shirts, too... But they weren't that special.

And then there was the dress she made me put on. It was thin black silk, and boy, was it clingy! It was also very short with thin spaghetti-strap sleeves. Revealing as it was, a Kat design sure beats whatever they're going to try and put me in. I smiled at her. "I made it for you," Kat said brightly. I thanked her, telling her I loved it, and I did, mostly. I was a bit uncomfortable in it, but it was a nice dress. I told her I'd pick her up right after school and drive to the studio (Oh, joy!). She scurried off back to Jamie, who was probably getting restless. I just sat there, mindlessly leafing through the folder, waiting until the bell rang for class.

It's funny how all the classes except the ones you're really dreading pass fast. Actually, here it was, almost time for Quinn's class, and here was I, without a phone call from Tommy. I was becoming accustomed to the annoying ring of the phone and Tommy's picture flashing on my screen. I took a new picture of him yesterday. He looks hot in it... I mean really hot, like thermonuclear meltdown hot. On fire, yeah.

Screw this. I'd better just go to class and get it the hell over with. I've got a performance to do. Well, long story short, I went there and he told me to go change/do my make-up... And made everyone else who was doing a cover do the same. If they weren't already wearing it. For me, that meant throwing on my Sweet Sixteen dress, shoes and all. I smeared my eye make-up a little bit for effect, dragged the shiny pink gloss across my lips, fluffed my hair, and walked out, into the classroom.

I grabbed my guitar coolly, ignoring the stares I was sure to receive, and glanced around for my drummer. Sure enough, he came running to the door. I smiled at Kyle, who sat down amusedly in my seat, which was, of course, next to Joan. I mean, you'd think a famous (ha!) rockstar (HA!) would have some friends in her music class. But no... I just have Joan, who I've barely known, and a music teacher who's out to get me.

That's when I noticed that something was up with Joan. She was sitting there, yeah, but it was like she wasn't really there at all. At least, not mentally. She was just staring blankly out into space, her arms crossed stiffly over her chest, guitar leaning against the side of her desk. She seemed out of sorts. I lightly tapped her on the shoulder, and she nearly jumped. Something is definitely wrong here. "What's wrong?" I questioned in a whisper, so as not to embarrass her.

But I had just gotten the words out of my mouth when Quinn spoke. It was a deliberate move on his part, I could tell. "Well, Little Mrs. Quincy, if you can tear yourself away, you're up first," He snapped impatiently. I rose an eyebrow, but picked up my guitar and dragged Kyle to the front. He rushed past me to his place behind the drumset.

I passed slowly by Quinn. "Aren't you going to say anything about how I look?" I drawled, throwing him a mock pout. Naturally, he rolled his eyes. Oddly enough, however, he chose to say nothing. I shrugged, somewhat confused, but continued on to the front. I attached the guitar to my amp and did a brief soundcheck, fine-tuning the guitar for a few seconds.

Then I leaned in close to the mike, smiling seductively... Not that I have any clue why. It's a bit of this whole maturing thing. Or maybe it was more of a bitter smile... I had gotten my heart broken twice in this dress. I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile, though it felt more like a rubbery grimace. "Hey... Jude Harrison here... Hello! ...And I'm doing a cover of "Un-Sweet Sixteen" by Wakefield. Hope you like it," I said carefully, by way of an introduction.

The smile then fell off my face, and Kyle and I both started playing in unison. This would sound so much better with Wally here. Oh well. I just concentrated on playing and counted silently to thirteen in my head. That was when I had to start singing. Okay, Jude, here it is, take a deep breath and... go!

"Bang, bang on the bathroom door..." I began, letting out two loud riffs to coincide with Kyle hitting the cymbal hard. I leaned back a little, closing my eyes, pretending to collapse a little, but I continued to sing. Eyes closed, I played on. "You say you can't take it anymore..." My eyes shot open and I jerked into my full, upright position... Like a regular airplane tray.

I shot a glance at Quinn, who was listening, but he seemed awfully distracted. It was contemptuous and far too competitive for my own good. My look, that is. I smirked, giving the crowd a nod, and radiating uncaring rockgoddess. "I say let's even up the score..." I challenged, shooting him another look, emphasizing the rivalry. Again, he seemed to be elsewhere. Wait, and I care because?

"I'm sorry," I said, reflecting on how many people had said that to me on my Un-Sweet Sixteen. I felt my buzz fade a little. What a horrible night. Why on Earth had I chosen this song? It was just a cruel reminder of the most miserable night of my life. Why did I want to remember that? I sighed accidentally, noticing how so many people seemed down... It wasn't the song, I knew... But everyone seemed so distracted. Even me.

But I was a pro, so I threw myself headfirst in my work. "Fall, fall, the tears are falling..." I cried mournfully, dropping down low and getting back up once with each "fall". That's twice, if you can't count. I felt that. I remembered the tears falling on my cheeks as I charged through the party like a hippo. I didn't care where I was going or who was in my way as long as I got away from Shay. I remembered the feeling of the rain cascading down my cheeks, masking the telltale tears on my face as I stood alone in that alley, leaning on the railing.

I remembered the hot tears spilling down my face as Tommy forced me to say that the only kiss that ever meant anything to me in my life never happened. I remembered the angry tears streaking down my face as I ripped off his coat. It no longer gave me the warmth I needed. "Ring, ring, who's that calling?" I questioned bitterly, remembering how I used to look forward to Shay's phonecalls. I'd so much as jumped and done a happy dance when he called. My whole face would light up.

I closed my eyes for a second, taking a shallow breath before opening my eyes and continuing. "Stop, stop, stop your bawling!" I ordered a bit desperately, as if telling myself to stop crying salty tears over Tommy. I sighed raggedly, leaning into the mike. "I'm sorry..." I whispered, remembering how futile the words were. How after you've said them as much as me, or Tommy, they start to lose their meaning so quickly.

"Un-Sweet Sixteen! Always acting like a beauty queen... Like you're posing in a magazine... Un-Sweet Sixteen!" I chanted, pretending to be a model and doing various phony poses. There wasn't much variety, considering I had to keep playing, but I moved about, pouting and sucking in my cheeks enough to crack a few smiles. Funny how a few smiles made me feel victorious. I felt like Jude the Conquerer. But such feelings of triumph are fleeting.

I glanced over at Joan, who looked miserable. I noticed that she looked up and tried to give me a reassuring smile, but the smile fell off her face faster than it had arrived. She looked down again, leaning against her hand, staring moodily into space. I frowned a little. My lips brushed the microphone. "Un-Sweet Sixteen! Homecoming Queen! Breaking down my self-esteem... My Un-Sweet Sixteen!" I yelled, strutting about the front of the room like a Homecoming Queen, sticking my noise up in the air like a snoot. Those kinds of girls always got rid of my self-esteem. You know, Sadie and her every-popular posse of friends. They always made sure that I knew my place, didn't they?

I fought the urge to scowl at the thought. Thinking back to Sexy Sades and Eden the Ho, I thought of their fake smiles. Especially Eden's. Her lips concealed crocodile teeth, in both intention and appearance. I know, burn... An evil smile curled at my lips at the thought of one-upping Eden. Well, from what I heard, her album was totally tanking. Karma just bites, doesn't it? "She, she, she always smiled... Smile, smile, 'cause that's my style," I mocked, exerting fake cheerfulness. I rolled my eyes amusedly. My smile was starting to feel fake, which it was... But it also felt rubbery. So I let it slide off my face like a raindrop. Okay, bad analogy.

I shook my head, pouting and wiggling a finger at them for a second. A moment later, the hand returned immediately to my guitar. Then I stamped my foot childishly to prove my point, pretending to sulk like a four-year-old. "But you acted liked a child... Neurotic!" I drawled, tsking disappointedly. Like a child...

Right now I couldn't think of a bigger insult if I tried. I really held out that word, shooting an icy glare at Travis, who, to my surprise, flushed. Child, child, child, I found myself mouthing soundlessly. It seemed to upset him a little. Probably because of his bizarre attraction to minors. I scowled, sending wrath through my fingertips, channelling it out through the guitar. Oh, I would show him, that I vowed. I shook my head mirthlessly.

"Won't let this whole thing go away... 'Cause you thought that I was out to play...I just don't know what to say..." I growled, making sure the immaturity shown through. Whether it was my own immaturity or my opponent's... I still don't know. The lyrics reminded me of Tommy and Sadie. Admittently, though, she had reason to worry. One big reason... Me. And then there was his reputation... Come to think of it, she wasn't paranoid of him around other women, just me. She was immature about it, but so was I, so I'd let it go. And it wasn't like her suspicions weren't warranted and correct... But she should just be happy with the fact that she has Tommy.

Who knows, maybe if I was legal... Maybe if he wasn't my producer... Maybe I'd be in her position. But Sadie would probably try and steal him from me. I mean, me getting the guy of her dreams? Puh-lease. Sexy Sades wouldn't let that happen... at least, not without a fight.

The grin crept slowly across my lips, unbidden. I could barely keep the laughter down. I shot Kyle a bemused look, and he smiled back at me crookedly. I winked at him and turned back to the front, struggling at keeping a straight face. "You're psychotic," I murmured with minimal glee. Minimal external glee, that is. Inside, I was totally going nuts.

"Un-Sweet Sixteen... Always acting like a beauty queen... Like you're posing in a magazine... Un-Sweet Sixteen! Un-Sweet Sixteen... Homecoming Queen... Breaking down my self-esteem... My Un-Sweet Sixteen!" I sang loudly, tossing my hair and winking at the crowd. Have I ever mentioned how repetitive this damn song is? Because it's really repetitive. "Yeah!" I screamed, motioning for Kyle to join in.

Kyle smiled. Man, I remember when S.M.E. was heavy metal. And apparently Kyle does too, since he's screaming. I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I remembered feeling like a beauty queen trying on all those outfits that day. I had posed for magazines... Which was really an unfamiliar feeling. Even nowadays... I'm not that photogenic, despite what the photographers say.

"Un-Sweet Sixteen! Always acting like a beauty queen! Like you're posing in a magazine! Un-Sweet Sixteen!" I shrieked, moving across the room slowly. I even moved away from the microphone; I was that loud. On my way back, I narrowly missed tripping over the various cords on the floor. Hehe, oops. Wiping out while performing would have been SO embarrassing. Like when Shay fell off the stage in Dresden. Or when I pushed him off stage in Taipei. That concert was absolutely packed. I honestly have never seen so many people in one place. Except in Tokyo, but that was a couple days later.

The crowd had Shay halfway across them in two minutes flat. Hmm, kind of like Eden... You know what... I think I'm totally over Shay. They say you never get over your first love... So maybe Shay wasn't my first love. No, no, no, Jude! Bad thoughts! I thought we were trying to stop thinking about him.

Well, gee, have you noticed how well that's going? 'Cause I have, and you suck at it. In fact, now that you're trying to stop thinking about him, you think about him twice as much as you used to. Well, I used to think about him a lot... So that's really saying something.

Like that dream you had this morning?

That was a good dream... Mmm...

No, not the dirty one! The one where he was playing the guitar. He sang the same song he sang in that dream you had where you were 21, remember? And then he proposed... But the ring got stuck in his guitar and he couldn't make it come out. Well, it did come out, eventually. After he shook it around a lot.

He's lucky I have skinny fingers. He was so impatient, though. Almost ready to break the guitar. Luckily it fell out before he could... Why am I saying this? Like it really happened! I am so delusional. I seriously need to get a grip. Like Tommy's ever going to propose to me.

Like he'd ever propose to someone underage.

"Un-Sweet Sixteen! Homecoming Queen! Breaking down my self-esteem! My Un-Sweet Sixteen!" I yelled, throwing myself into the performance. I sped up the tempo, playing faster to accommodate for the big BANG ending. It was rising, and so was my anticipation for the beautiful crescendo, as was Kyle's, though I doubt he was impatient to get back to Art Class. I mean, I've seen Kyle's idea of artwork, and it's not pretty.

"Un-Sweet Sixteen... Un-Sweet Sixteen... Un-Sweet Sixteen... My Un-Sweet Sixteen!" Wally and I snarled, holding on to all the right syllables. The drums pulsed in my ears, the chords echoed in my head.

I finished playing, and my performance high wore off. I collapsed wearily into my seat. Kyle left. Quinn called on lots of people after that. Most of them were good, a fourth of them sucked, and half the class wasn't ready. Oddly enough, he called on Joan last. It was odd... Immediately, she snapped to attention. She rose to her feet with a frost even Tommy would envy, picking up her guitar casually, swinging it around as if it was nothing. But her knuckles were white; they alone betrayed her.

There was a storm brewing on the inside of my new friend, that much was obvious. It was even stranger still that she walked briskly to the front of the room, taking the long way and avoiding passing by Quinn. She didn't look at him once the entire time she was up there. Maybe the Kate thing had affected her more than I thought... But I've got to give it to Joan, her performance was great, so much better than before.

It was as if the dam that had been holding back her emotions was suddenly gone. She threw herself into the performance, playing the guitar hard, moving around. The song was suddenly a blues masterpiece. She sounded jaded, less naïve, not innocent. She was suddenly BAM, raw and intense. Almost hardcore. And I couldn't help but notice that she'd changed the lyrics a bit.

Most notably, blue eyes to hazel eyes. Wonder what she meant by that...

Why ponder now, though? I ought to just save it for a rainy day. Anyways, the second after she finished, the bell rang. She unplugged her guitar slowly, uncaring, and walked stiffly, as if she was a zombie, out of the room without a goodbye. Weird, much?

As if that's not strange enough, Joan skipped out on her last hour. I saw her walk right out the front door. No one stopped her. No one said anything. No one even noticed except me. I put my guitar in my locker, closed it, and made my way over to the bathroom so that I could change back into my normal clothes. Lyra wouldn't care if I was a few minutes late.

I wish I hadn't taken the time to stop at my locker. I wish I hadn't changed then. I wish I'd gone to class first and then asked. I wish I'd left with Joan. I should've, but she needed time to herself, I guess... And the last hour was my favorite. Though I'd skipped it before. I should've at least talked to her. For some ridiculous reason, I was in a good mood. I don't know why. I had nothing in particular to be happy about.

I mean, for starters, I'd woken up early and was absolutely exhausted. Then, add to that the fact that it's Tommy and Sadie's anniversary, and the fact that they've got a big date tonight. I mean, sure, I suppose you could say that making out with Tommy for the video should make me happy, but there would be so many people watching... I'd have to hold back. And I just didn't feel right kissing my sister's boyfriend on their anniversary.

"You played me like a radio... You used to love that I had no shame..." I hummed randomly. I had written bits and pieces of this song, but I sensed that this one would take a while to properly articulate. I wasn't really paying attention, but I passed the Janitor's Closet. Or I had been, that is, until I was grabbed by the wrist and pulled inside of it.

But the point is that after that, I had even less to look forward to. The day was about to spiral out of my control and into abject misery.

But I didn't know that then. All I knew was that some mysterious weirdo had grabbed me and pulled me into a closet for some bizarre reason.

Predictably, the closet was small, dark, smelly, and cramped. A single lightbulb swung back and forth above my head. I snapped out of my daze and looked out to see who my ambusher was. I let loose a fluid, florid stream of the worst curse words I could think of when I saw his face. Travis Quinn, Asshole Extraordinaire. I groaned internally, feeling frustrated beyond words. What did he think he was doing, just randomly pulling me in here!

It could've been anyone walking past! And where the hell was the janitor! Lousy janitor... Can't clean off my locker properly or protect me from creepy teachers... Speaking of which, doesn't he have a class now? 'Cause I sure do! I was about to say all this when he spoke. He was insanely casual about the whole thing, but I was on my guard. After all, it isn't every day that someone who is severely mentally unbalanced yanks you into a closet. He was actually smirking. "Hey Jude," He whispered in a tone that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I shuddered involuntarily, wrapping my arms around my middle like Kate had. I, however, wasn't afraid of being hurt by him. I was afraid of him, period. There was something about him standing there in the dim light, leering at me, that just creeped me out.

I had the immediate urge to run as fast as I could and get the hell away from the bastard. But I didn't see any means of escape except that airvent up there... if I could even reach it. Oh, wait! How dumb am I? There's a door to this closet! I raced to the door, twisting the handle desperately. It didn't budge, not even when I rammed my shoulder into it. That only made my shoulder hurt. I tried to kick it open too, but there wasn't much room in the closet. Once again, it didn't open.

I felt his breath hot on the back of my neck. I felt my shoulders tense reflexively, goosebumps rising on my arms and my legs. My breath shortened, but not out of desire or something ridiculous like that... from fear. I waited anxiously for him to say something or for the janitor to come rescue me. Yet the tense silence continued on, and I found myself more and more nervous by the moment.

As usual, he spoke when I didn't expect him to, and he didn't say what he thought I was going to say at all. He wasn't as predictable as you'd think. The whispers came just as I was beginning to relax a little. Stupid me. There's a lesson he taught me. Maybe the only lesson he ever taught me. Never ever let your guard down.

"What do you see in him?" He hissed softly, only the slightest hints of malice in his tone. I didn't have to ask to know who he was referring to. It was obvious, but why does he care what I see in Tommy? Does he want tips or something! I'll tell you what I see in Tommy... I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM! But I don't think that Quinn could ever really grasp that. After all, what does he know about love?

I rolled my eyes, deciding not to give him the satisfaction of turning around for a face-to-face meeting. "Well, he doesn't drag me into strange closets against my will," I retorted sarcastically, arms crossed tight over my chest. That's true. We don't even have any strange closets at G. Major. Unless Studio C counts, but... Okay, so he sort of dragged me in there with him yesterday. But that's Tommy, and I trust Tommy.

I could feel Travis seething behind me, his breaths coming in angry puffs on my back. Ew, I feel so dirty with him breathing all over me. Who knows, maybe he'll die first from lack of air...

Suddenly, he seemed furiously frustrated with the situation. He grabbed me by the arm and spun me around to face him. I glowered at him, sulking and radiating teen rebellion, my eyes boring straight through him. His eyes raked over me searchingly, taking in my appearance as if he was looking for something. Whatever that something was... I have no clue. I thought he was going to say something, but he just kept looking at me like that, and it was really freaking me out.

I turned around again, to try and leave, which was futile, I know... But he only grabbed my arm again and made me face him. This time his grip was harder. This time he was closer. He looked pissed off, but I hadn't really done anything that awful to merit his fury, so I found myself a bit confused. "Seriously," He snapped irritably.

I rolled my eyes. He's still going on about that? I didn't even insinuate ANYTHING this time. How can that make him mad? Somebody tell me how that can make him mad! And just how am I supposed to answer the question anyways. I sighed, rolling my eyes at him again. Might as well be cooperative. I'll probably get out of here faster that way. "He's cute," I said briefly, hoping that would satisfy him.

It didn't, of course. Stupid me. He rolled his eyes, leaning in slightly further. "So am I, aren't I, Jude?" He murmured somewhat seductively, in a low tone that hinted at a threat. I really wasn't in a position to argue, and I didn't have the energy to lie. I just wanted to get out. If he wants an admission from me, he can have it.

"Sure," I muttered blankly. I should've shut up there, but I continued on anyways. "You're practically twins! And if I think one twin's cute, I have to think the other one's cute..." I interjected, on the brink of a long rant. He cut me off fast, though, obviously hating the comparison (and hating the fact that it was true even more, I'm sure). He gave me a look, gesturing for me to continue. Okay, so he doesn't buy my flimsy reason... Well, that's okay, I've got a million of 'em!

"He's funny," I continued, feeling bored. I briefly looked away from him, searching out any sharp or blunt objects that I might have to use. When I looked back at him, he was once again rolling his eyes at me. What is it? What now? What does he want me to say?

"So?...I'm funny," He exclaimed somewhat exasperatedly. I couldn't help it. I snorted and started laughing. He has no sense of humor. Or, if he does, I sure haven't seen it. He glared at me viciously, and I shut up as best as I could, which was extremely difficult.

I giggled, promptly covering my mouth with my hand. I felt the smirk threatening to take over my face. "Yeah, you're right! Nice joke there!" I gasped out amid random bouts of laughter. Travis wasn't amused... clearly. But, honestly, when is the guy ever happy? Yeah... That's what I thought. The only time I've ever seen him happy has been around Joan... Hmm, that's a scary prospect, don't you think? I sighed. Okay, guess he wants another reason. Well, fine then. You'll get your reason.

"No, really... He's sweet... and caring... and affectionate..." I murmured dreamily, staring off into space. If I continued like this, I was going to lose my mind. I mean, there are places to daydream about Tommy, and there are places to daydream about Tommy. And standing right in front of Travis Quinn, who is not Little Tommy Q's biggest fan (quite the opposite, really), in a small, enclosed space is not the place. He already knows how I feel about Tommy... Let's just say I was scribbling down some lyrics, and, well, he looked over my shoulder and saw that page where I'd written "I love Tommy Quincy" over and over again. And similar things... I tried not to call him Little Tommy Q, because that's just laughable. And I am not a Boyz Attack! Fangirl.

I mean, sure, I know all the guys. We've hung out together before. I sang their biggest hit with them on TV. And yeah, Chaz and I are close... And I'm in love with Tommy... And I might know all the words to all their songs. You know, their music isn't that bad, really... Of course, I'd never actually admit that out loud or in public, and especially never ever to Chaz or Tommy... They'd never let me live it down!

Travis snorted, rolling his eyes. He leered at me, eyes sweeping over me, insinuating away. "I'll bet," He said, barely keeping the venom out of his voice. I shuddered at his stare, feeling uncomfortable. Not to mention that I hated what he was insinuating. It wasn't true, anyways, despite what the whole world thinks... Even my whole world. His eyes narrowed spitefully. "Please..." He scoffed, rolling his eyes and glancing away. His eyes turned back on me less than a second later, and I was floored by the dark intensity in them. "He's an asshole," He growled, fury evident in his tone.

Well, duh, Tommy's an asshole. But he's my asshole! Well... Not mine, actually. That's why he's an asshole. He's Sadie's... Sadie's Asshole, and Sadie's Little Slut. Come on, tell me something I couldn't have told you within five minutes of meeting him. I rolled my eyes at him, unable to stop the smirk from spreading easily, smoothly across my face, like butter. "Wow! Yet another thing you two have in common!" I exclaimed sarcastically, faking enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, Quinny-Poo wasn't half as amused as me. I swear, the guy's even more of a wet blanket than Tom. Then again, he's also like a gazillion years older than Tommy, but whatever. Okay, so he's not that much older... But he's definitely too old for me. Needless to say, he bristled at the unwanted but true comparison.

His eyes blazed vengefully like green fire. Of course, there's no such thing as green fire... No, wait, that's a lie. We did this experiment in chemistry with things dipped in these solution-y things... And you were supposed to light them. The classroom was pitch black, remember? Being my clumsy self, I managed to crash into a rack of test tubes. You would really think I'd stop there, wouldn't you? But no, I didn't... I... Oh, wait, sorry, I knocked over the test tubes when I crashed into the shelf of beakers. And THEN I lit that one guy's hair on fire and spilled acid on the teacher's pants. And of course it was the acid that eats through clothing. Ew, and just when I thought it couldn't get any more gross, he goes under the chemical shower. Let's just say that if you don't look good dry, you sure as hell don't look good wet. In fact, you look worse.

Anyways, what was I talking about? Oh, right... The splint-test sort of thing we did for the lab. One of the sticks turned green. I think that one was copper... If I actually remembered that right, then it's a miracle. I don't think I learned much of anything in that class. Well, except that I have no idea what a polyatomic ion is, and that stoichiometry should die. Uh, whatever it is, exactly. It involves too much math for me. It's right up there on my hate list.

Wanna see?

Well, you don't have a choice. So there. Yes, I realize that that makes me sound like I'm two. But in some small way, aren't we all two? And I'm a philosopher who makes absolutely no sense, aren't I?

Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm strange, but that's okay. Because I wouldn't be me if I was normal. I'd be Sadie... Or maybe someone a little less overachieving. Like Jamie. Er, bad example. Kat? Hmm... Nah. I'll think of a proper comparison later.

Jude J. Harrison's Hate List

Number One (and, oh, what a coveted position it is): One Mister Travis Quinn.

Pedophile pervert who's out to get me and wants me to flunk while he enjoys hitting on my poor, innocent friend. Need I say more?

Number Two: Math in all of its various complexities and multiplious forms.

Okay, so maybe it's not a person. But it needs to die. I mean, okay, we were doing this wonky thing in Geometry, which is stupid anyways, because we were doing Algebra 2 work. He just said we'd need to know it, blah, blah, blah. I don't think I'll need to know it. I don't think anyone does. I mean, radicals and variables and exponents and square roots and cube roots, oh my! Much less simplifying the little devils. Seriously, did you know that the class I'm in is freshmen level? Now isn't that a scary thought?

Here I am, a Junior... Oh, God, what a scary thought! So, naturally, I'm in the class with all freshmen, a bunch of sophomores, two juniors who won't speak to me (one of them is my natural enemy: the Platinum Blonde Primadonna Pom-Pom Cheerleader, Homecoming Queen incarnate), and one moronic (drool monkeys are smarter than he is. I shall call him Ignoramus Rex) senior who never washes his hair and picks his nose all the time and eats it. The other junior is my other natural enemy, the exclusive Jock-Strap-for-Brains. He is the chief of his tribe, the Sportos, and also happens to be the Neanderthalic boytoy of my aformentioned first enemy.

I even came up with a song about how much I hated it using only the three words I, Hate, and Math. It was this sort of techno rap deal. Hey! It sounded cool in my head.

Number Three: Cheerleaders in all shapes and sizes.

Actually, no, that's not true. Just the bitchy ones. I'm sure there are some nice cheerleaders somewhere. Just not here. But I suppose they're better here than at Degrassi. Blech. They made me feel bad, and I was a guest! Ugh, and some of them... I swear, I have never met a bigger group of skanks in all my days, and I've met a lot of Sluttious Maximus-es. I walked past them to get a seat in the stands, and they gave me a dirty look. Oh, and when I was walking down the hallway, one of those bitches tripped me for no reason.

I mean, yeesh, I wasn't wearing a Carson Hill shirt or anything. And let me assure you, I'm not the type to cheer. They made mean remarks about me when I walked past them too, and they knew I could hear! "Did you see what she's wearing?" "Yeah... Did she dress in the dark?" "No, with her eyes closed." "I don't think that's the problem. I think someone just bashed her head in with an ugly stick..." What even is an ugly stick anyways? I've never seen one, so one sure as hell hasn't bashed my brains in.

And then they beat me up, tore my clothes, and stole my lunch money.

Just kidding. I really had you going there, didn't I? They were mean, though. Before I won Instant Star, the cheerleaders here used to make my life hell too...

Though, you know, on the bright side, our team totally kicked their asses in Curling. I know 'cause Jamie got the winning score. He dominated!

Number Four: Corporate Pop Mega-Poseurs.

That's your basic pop act. I don't really dig 'em. I mean, I puked boybands and what not. I mean, it doesn't mean I can't listen... I just generally don't like to because it hurts my ears. I swear, if anyone compares me to one of those "teen queens", I think I'll play a nice brutal game of ice hockey, using their body as the puck. And I'll make sure to always hit their head.

So, and just so you know... Never compare me to a Simpson sister (Well, if you do, compare me to Ashlee. I've gathered that she's the smarter one in the family). Mandy Moore, maybe you can get away with that. Maybe. If I'm in a good mood, and I like you. If you wish to live, never, ever, ever compare me to Lindsay Lohan. Because I will kill you. Jamie can testify from personal experience. He compared me to her a while back when we were watching some movie of hers where she was singing and still had red hair. I tipped his Nana off the next day about his stash of porno and fireworks. And that was after giving him a bruise and putting glue in his body wash. Let's just say the gel and the bubbles washed off, but his hand didn't. His hand was stuck in a rather compromising and freakishly awkward position, if you get my drift...

And heaven forbid that you ever compare me to either of the Duffs. That's just insulting, seeing as I can sing! I will smite you if you attempt it (piece of advice here... Don't. I'm really not joking here. Despite the fact that I am quite attractive when pissed off, I will also stop at nothing to avenge myself, racing frenetically towards your ultimate destruction. Got it?). Don't ever compare me to Britney if you wish to live to see your twenty-first birthday, but I'll let you get away with Christina, because she has the most amazing voice. But considering some of the things people have accused her of... I could really do without a repuation like that, and yet, that's just what I'm getting. Is that what happens when you sleep with Tommy? Are you immediately branded a whore? Hmm, it's funny... Tommy's dated, let's see... Mandy, Christina, Britney, and Jessica. At least, those are the ones I know. Because all the other ones are barely legal or not legal at all. He must have a thing for blondes.

Eh, too bad. I never had a chance. Now where was I?

Number Five: Jocks, in assorted sizes.

I simply hate them all. In fact, put them up there with cheerleaders. It's for the same reason. They picked on Jamie nonstop (even the girls. Who knew Lacrosse can give you biceps that big?), and they leered at me and insulted me. And they have the IQ of twigs.

Though wrestlers do make me laugh hysterically. I mean, there's so many different ways to insult them. And with the unitards and the grunting and the wrestling on the floor with sweaty guys... Come on, that's like ten punchlines right there.

There are probably a million other things or people I could list... Like Shay, Eden, Mr. James, and Darius, for starters. But I didn't. And then there's all the various facets of Chemistry.

Quinn crossed his arms over his chest deliberately. He wasn't exactly wearing a muscle shirt, but his shirt was close enough to his skin that I could see the muscles rippling underneath it when he moved. Not that I was looking or anything. That's just gross. "I told you, I am nothing like Little Tommy Q," He stated vehemently, but his passion was a controlled one. He wasn't really reacting.

Oh, please. He couldn't be any more like Tommy if he tried! The only difference between them is that Tom's famous... And a notorious playboy... And he doesn't make it a habit to go after minors... I snorted, rolling my eyes about him. "You two sure must think alike, then, because you both kissed me!" I growled viciously, fixing him with a severe glare. Quinn looked somewhat confused by this development.

His eyes narrowed in concentration. He was staring at me like he'd just seen me for the first time. He raised his eyebrow, disbelieving. "Tom kissed you?" He questioned, unable to suppress his surprise. It seemed like this new development had rattled him a little. I don't get why, though. He's always been the one going on about how I'm the Future Mrs. Quincy.

I nodded, shrugging, not really seeing why it was such a big deal. I'm not that ugly, you know. "Yeah... Why're you so surprised? You did it too!" I spat impatiently, rolling my eyes at him. What, he thinks he's the only guy that finds me attractive. Oh, God. He finds me attractive? No... I did not just sa-think that. No.

He looked at me through heavy-lidded eyes. Had his eyelashes always been that long? Wait, why am I noticing that, especially now, of all times? He shrugged nonchalantly and said nothing, which was a first. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable standing there with only a few inches in between us. "You're right," He whispered in a low tone that sent a shiver down my spine and set off the warning bells in my head. That should've been a sign that something bad was going to happen. He actually admitted I was right, and about comparing him and Tommy nonetheless.

I was numb and absolutely floored. You could've knocked me over with a feather, which I suppose is what he did. I could only stand there, stiff and stock-still, paralyzed with shock. My jaw was practically touching the floor. And he took advantage of that. Before I knew what it was he was doing, he placed his hands on both sides of my hips. A second later, he had pulled me against him with a crash. He glanced at me for one second, and then he kissed me.

He kissed me almost bruisingly hard, but I didn't respond. I was still completely shell-shocked, so I didn't budge an inch. I didn't close my eyes. I didn't touch him. I didn't do anything. It didn't even register, what he was doing, until one second, when it just hit me like a freight train out of nowhere. Didn't I tell him I'd castrate him if he ever did something like this again?

No, remember, you pulled a Tommy and didn't talk about it. No, Tommy talks about things like this. He just never mentions them again. You referenced it again, so the comparison doesn't even match up. A vague idea forming in my mind, I punched him as hard as I could in the gut.

It wasn't exactly what I meant to do, but it worked well enough. He rocketed back away from me, doubled over, clutching his side. He bit his lip in pain, eyes stabbing through me accusingly. I guess I did deserve the blame, but I didn't ask for him to kiss me. I didn't want him to kiss me. I couldn't stand his guts, period. I glowered at him, hands placed defiantly on my hips. He won't break me. I didn't say anything. I just stood there and stared him down to show him that I meant business.

Unfortunately for me, he recovered surprisingly fast. One minute he was bent over, holding his midsection, completely winded... And the next, he was fully upright, not showing one trace of the pain he'd been in only moments before. Unbelieveable. He's frickin' unbelievable. He leered at me and came closer. I didn't give him the satisfaction of watching me back up. Besides, I can handle him, and I will. I can take care of myself, thanks. "I'm right, and you know it. Quincy never has kissed you like that, now, has he?" He posed antagonistically, just egging me on.

In some respects, he really was right. But in others, he was completely wrong. "Yeah, but Quincy generally has my approval," I countered sharply, fixing him with a "get the hell away from me" look. Not that it worked. Travis made a face, looking sort of sick for a minute. Funny, now he doesn't want to hear about my relationship with Tommy. At least I know how to piss him off now.

And then Travis rolled his eyes and stepped closer and closer towards me. "Then why did you respond?" He murmured, framing my face and crashing his lips against mine. I didn't understand where all this passion was coming from. Quinn had never exactly been the warmest guy alive. And then... I suddenly realized that I was actually kissing him back, and I wondered... Why did I respond?

No, this can't be happening, I thought frantically. I ripped his hands off my cheeks, pulling my lips away from his. I took a few steps back and found it hard to breathe, and not from the kiss. I hated the way that he looked at me, with this smug, knowing grin on his face. That stupid mocking smirk that I wanted nothing more than to wipe off his sorry mug. I felt like punching him... And maybe I would have, if he... If he hadn't...

"You want me," He declared cockily, walking towards me once again, a new swagger in his steps. And I thought Tommy was full of himself. At least Tommy has a reason, that whole boyband image to overinflate his already swollen ego. He said it as if it was the most adorable thing ever, like Little Jude had a little crush on him. But I didn't! I hated him, damnit, so why the hell couldn't he see that!

I shook my head frantically, feeling the panic rise up in me. I backed up, but he came closer. So I backed up more and more... until, eventually, my back hit the door. He loomed there in my vision, less than a foot away. Less than a foot away, and I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I gulped, feeling hot and sweaty with fear. The closet seemed to shrink before my eyes. I felt like I was trapped in a coffin, buried alive and slowly dying by the second. My heartbeat pounded in my head. Thud, thud, thud. The beats pulsed erratically, faster than a techno beat on my brain. Suddenly it was too dark, and then too bright. My eyes hurt, and my head ached. I felt weak, and not in a healthy way.

I collapsed lightly against the wall, leaning on it heavily, looking for support. Right now, it was the only rock I had. Travis swam in my distorted vision, seemingly coming closer and closer. I closed my eyes and flattened myself against the wall, muttering a futile prayer under my breath. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done... On Earth as it is in heaven... And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...

Deliver us from evil... Deliver us from evil... From evil, evil, evil...

Deliver me!

My frantic, whispered prayers were silenced when he forced his lips over mine urgently. Why was he doing this? What did he want from me? But as my prayers were silenced, so were my questions. I couldn't think, but I managed to open my eyes. And on some level, I knew that I was kissing Travis. I also knew that I didn't like Travis. But when I opened my eyes, I didn't see Travis.

You know how I said he and Tommy look a lot alike? They have the same coloring, same cheekbones, same nose, same hair gel... And when his eyes are closed and you're making out with him... They look like twins. So I did something I'm not very proud of. I stared at him for a minute and then I just... closed my eyes and gave in. I closed my eyes, tricking myself into thinking I was kissing Tommy. They looked just the same, and they felt just the same, right?

But they're not. I kissed him back with everything I'd been holding back. All the frustration and anger and hurt and pain I poured into that kiss. My mind was feverishly clouded, and I stumbled back as he maneuvered us somewhere. The shelves dug into my back, but I didn't care. I only grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer. I sucked in enough oxygen to breathe and then went in for Round Two. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. I arched my back, hands sliding down to drape loosely around his shoulders.

It wasn't that I didn't feel anything, because I did. The chemistry was there in all the right places.

But it just wasn't the same as the real thing.

Tommy was a better kisser, first of all. Of course, mind you, Tommy's obviously more experienced. Plus I'm head-over-heels for him, which might mean I'm a little biased, but really, can you blame me?

Secondly, Travis was just... There was just a completely different emotion there. He was focused, determined, and all charged up. He had a goal, and he was going for it. Apparently that goal was me.

You see, when Tommy kissed me... This is going to sound corny... But it was about me. And Travis was different in the respect that when he kissed me, it wasn't really about me at all. For the longest time I thought it was, but it was really all about him.

His lips trailed down my neck slowly, tantalizingly, nipping lightly at the white flesh. I moaned, writhing against the shelves uncomfortably, missing the feeling of his lips on mine more than anything. I needed that feeling. I needed this to be real. I didn't hear the door, but apparently it made some sound because he led me into some darker, more secluded corner of the storage closet. He pushed me into the corner, and I pulled him in the shadows with me. But my eyes only barely fluttered open during this time, so I didn't see much of anything. I banged into one of the shelves on my way, or maybe he did... It doesn't matter.

What does matter is that the box crashed to the ground and exploded. Both of our eyes shot open, immediately full of sheer panic. When I saw who was pressed up snug against me, I had what damn near felt like a heart attack. I felt faint and my knees buckled a little. I remembered that no, I was not kissing Tommy... Travis. I jerked my head away immediately, feeling flush. I couldn't take my eyes off the floor, and I didn't want to. I didn't want to ever look at him again.

I felt embarrassed. Humiliated for doing something so stupid with another guy so much older than me, this one whom I didn't even like in the slightest. And I felt embarrassed and... guilty... for using him like that. It was an unwelcome feeling. I didn't even want to see the way he was looking at me. I was sure I wouldn't like it at all. I knew what I had to do, and I knew it would come surprisingly easier than I thought it would. I shoved him away, pushing past him to get to the door. My plan was to pull a Tommy and pretend this never happened. I of course knew I sucked at lying like that, but it was what I had to do. And I guess it was what Tommy had had to do at the time.

But Travis had other plans, per usual. That shouldn't have surprised me. He grabbed me and slammed me against the door with a soft thud that jarred my senses a little, practically plastering his body against mine. His hands slid up and down the silk of my dress. For the second time in my life, I was conscious of how thin it really was. I felt the possessive warmth of his unwanted hands treading over my dress. His hands started on my waist, slid down to my hips, down further to my upper thigh, then they went up again. Up the thighs, over the hips, past the waist... His nails trailed lightly up my abdomen, but they didn't stop there. They went up my stomach, and stopped finally at my chest. I could do nothing but stand there, pinned against the door, as he felt me up.

The feeling of his dirty hands all over me made me feel sick inside. I hated being pawed like an object, a puppy, a pawn. I felt disgusted with myself and thoroughly disgusted with him. Not that he didn't always disgust me, repluse me, and the like... It was exactly like my song, only worse. I struggled against him, but it was to no avail. He smirked and bent down to capture my lips carelessly with his own.

I groaned and had to force myself to avoid vomiting on him out of sheer spite. I wanted to throw up. I felt cheap, like a paid whore or white trash. I'd completely lost control of my life here. I tried hard to get free... Banging my head against his, scraping him with my nails, biting his lip so hard it bled. I pushed at him, but he wouldn't budge. He stopped kissing me on the mouth, though, focusing on the soft plain of my neck. He attacked it almost voraciously, as if trying to leave a mark.

And with each sloppy kiss the skin got redder, and his lips went lower and lower. I knew the neckline of the dress was permissive, and I didn't want him getting any bigger eyehole than he already had. Actually, I didn't care about him looking down my shirt. It was the other thing. Like I need any more confirmation for the world to think I'm a whore. He finally succeeded in leaving his mark, only millimeters above my push-up bra. I couldn't do anything about it, but somehow, I found myself wishing I had fought harder. Maybe to the death, but that was out of the question, of course.

I fought with him for a good ten minutes, trying to hit him, wriggling as much as I could. "Get off of me!" I screamed, thrashing wildly. I hit him in the chest once, twice, three times... Nothing. He didn't even really move. He ducked a few times, and that was about it. I was too tired to keep up at this, and he knew it. His hand supported the small of my back as he leaned in to kiss me once more, running his hands through my hair as if he couldn't get enough. Like I was some ridiculous teenage fantasy girl or something.

He made me kiss him back. I didn't want to. His lips were wet and soft against mine, working slowly to coerce my pliant lips into a response. His teeth lightly grazed my lips as he deepened the kiss, pulling me flush against him. I could feel every clean line of his frame pressed against me; his muscles were tensed from anticipation. I wished my clothes were more substancial. The bittersweet taste of him invaded my senses, sliding past my lips, over my tongue, and down my throat. His hands traced my cheekbones before sliding over the airy fabric of my dress, copping a feel or two on the way down. I felt hot and slightly sweaty. I had to stop this... I had to... To get him off before he does something... else.

I pulled away, aware of how close our faces still were. I refused to look at him, staring at the floor. "Get away from me," I hissed, hoping my voice didn't waver. He didn't move at first, so I felt the need to repeat myself. "Get away from me," I stated so slowly that even a foreigner could get the message. I just wanted him to leave me in peace. He still didn't move. I sucked in a shallow breath, bracing myself, and I looked up with steely, tear-free eyes. I forced myself to meet his eyes, but I was stunned by their dark intensity. I clenched my jaw, trying to show him that I wasn't afraid.

If only I believed that myself. I met his gaze full on. "Get out of my way," I snarled, narrowing my eyes at him. He only sneered at me and refused to budge an inch. Quinn underestimated my determination. He underestimated just how angry I was. As they say, hell hath no fury... and redheads are known for their fiery tempers. I waited a second for him to even offer to do something nice.

And when he didn't, I shoved him back with both hands, surging forward and past him. I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say; nothing I could say. Even if I wanted to... There were no words for it. I thought I'd made my feelings clear with that song, but it seemed to have only egged him on. I marched out of the room with a military precision, feeling stiff and awkward in my own skin. I was itching to write a song about the nightmare that had just befallen me, but songs... Well, that was what had gotten me into this whole damn mess in the first place. I had to get to Music Theory anyways. Judging by the clock, I was well over fifteen minutes late.

I wanted to leave, to just go home and shower. To rub my skin red and raw so I could forget about the memory of this awful day. All my problems were just starting then, but I didn't know that. I thought this was the worst to come. Looking back, it was still the worst part of the day. I felt cheap. I felt dirty. I felt violated. My skin crawled with the memory of his hands all over me. I knew I couldn't leave, though. I had to drive Kat to the studio... Where I had to film the video with Tommy. Our hot alley make-out scene. It felt weird, thinking about that, wearing this dress.

I glanced down at the dress, grimacing. This thing must be cursed. I was wearing this dress when my first boyfriend dumped me for my rival at my birthday party. I was wearing this dress when the love of my life kissed me and made me take it back. And, once again, I was wearing this dress when my teacher took "hands-on" a little too literally. I really wanted to change, but that was what had gotten me in this mess in the first place.

So once again, I steeled myself, and I marched to the classroom. Lyra blinked at me, surprised to see me. Apparently, she thought I was going to skip. Ha! I wish. "Jude, you're fifteen minutes late. Do you have an excuse?" She asked patiently. Lyra was pretty cool most of the time, but right now, she seemed a little worried. I hadn't realized how I looked, but I suddenly realized that I probably looked very strange.

My cheeks were paler than usual, as if all the color had drained out of them. They were simultaneously flushed. My lipstick was smeared, my eye make-up slightly smudged. I had what Kat would call "sex hair", which meant, of course, that my hair was a mess. Not to mention the sudden 180 in style. I felt myself flush further, being somewhat embarrassed at my disheveled appearance.

A thought occurred to me. I had a great excuse. I would've been on time if I could. "Ask Quinn. I'm sure he'll excuse it," I muttered irritably, stalking to my seat at the back of the room. It seems the universe just wants to deem me a slut. In the eyes of the media, in the eyes of my label, in the eyes of my friends... Even at school! I plopped into the seat, grabbing a pencil and a piece of notebook paper.

"Am I another casualty? In this battle you're waging? You're my own worst enemy... At war with myself, I can't let you see..." I began to sing thoughtfully, scribbling down the notes and the lyrics. I nodded and kept tapping the beat softly in time. "And I can't stand to watch your comet coming fast... Everywhere you go, it seems, lightning strikes and then you crash. I don't know you do it. It always ends the same. Everywhere you go, it seems lightning strikes, but there's no rain..." I continued, writing those lyrics down too. But suddenly, I felt uninspired. It felt like the lyrics were more about me than the incident they were supposed to be about. I sighed hopelessly, staring blankly at the ceiling. So much for that song idea.

I continued staring moodily at the ceiling, feeling stupid. I'd never experienced a block like this. So much was going on in my life... So many things that I wanted to write about, and yet... I just couldn't. I couldn't get out a single word. I groaned frustatedly, burying my head in my hands. I immediately jumped up a second later when I felt my phone vibrating. It happened to be a text from Kat, saying that she didn't need a ride. She'd get to the studio on her own, probably asking Jamie for a ride. You'd think Jamie dropping Kat off nearby G. Major would oh, I don't know, maybe make him suspicious or something... But that was the beauty of G. Major being in the Fashion District, Kat's second home.

So I didn't even have to stay after all. Great, just great. With that thought in mind, I decided to leave like Joan had. I picked up the few things I had and walked straight out the door. I ran to my locker, throwing it open, snatching my clothes, my bag, and my guitar. I slammed the locker shut and raced to the bathroom. I flew into a stall, ripping the dress off. I watched it drop to the floor, somewhat entranced, for a moment. I felt like I was losing my innocence in much the same manner, slowly. That's the number one rule of fame, after all: The higher you rise, the harder you fall.

Staring at the emerald silk, I snapped out of my daze, remembering that I had to be at the shoot in thirty minutes (and it was a twenty-five minute drive to G. Major). I pulled on my pants, fastening the belt around my waist, throwing the tank top over my head, and buttoning up my sweater. I smoothed my hair and wiped away some of the stray lipstick before picking up the dress and throwing it carelessly in the bag. I fought back the memories that dress brought up, shaking my head at my own foolishness. I didn't want to chance another encounter with my least favorite teacher, so I ran through the hallways like a bat outta hell. I saw Speed and the guys motioning for me to come over to them, but I merely waved (as I actually saw He Who Must Not Be Named coming from the other direction... with his eyes on me) and scurried out through the back door, into the Teacher's parking lot. I hunted for my car, which wasn't that hard to pick out, as it's not every day you see a fancy cherry red Viper in a teachers' parking lot. And there, right across from it, stood its shiny emerald green counterpart, sitting there and mocking me.

It was Travis' car, the color of those eyes that I hated so, and the color of my cursed dress. I shuddered visibly at the sight and decided to get the hell out of Dodge before its owner decided to show up. I jumped in the car and floored it. Okay, so maybe I wasn't in the best frame of mind to drive, but I had to get there. My hands were shaking, but I managed to maintain a constant speed. I was making pretty decent time too, considering how far the studio was from school. I came to a light. When I got there, the light was green, but it turned yellow just as it was my turn to go up. Normally I go for it if it's yellow. I floor it... It's not exactly the best habit, but I picked it up from Tommy. So when the light turned yellow as I was approaching the intersection, I slammed down on what I thought was the gas pedal. You see... I still have a bit of a problem with that.

I slammed down on the brake instead of the gas. At first I mentally cursed myself, as were the people behind me (I do not appreciate being flicked off, thank you! I'm a bad enough driver as it is without you adding fuel to my fire!). That lasted about a second. It stopped promptly when I saw a car run straight into the driver's side of the car in front of me. If I had slammed down on the accelerator instead of the break, that could've been me.

That came as a sober realization as I peered out on the accident, noticing that there wasn't anyone moving within the car. I gulped hard, frozen there, gawking at the accident until someone honked behind me. I made a snap decision, flicking the turn signal and making an abrupt right turn. I don't know what force guided me through the city, but it most certainly wasn't my brain... because my mind was still back there, dwelling on that awful accident. How it could've been me. By some miracle, I was a better driver when I was out of it (the Guardian Angel finally kicks in!) than when I was in my full mind.

The next thing I knew, I was all alone in an empty parking lot. The shaking started in my hands and spread to my legs and then to my whole body. I was trembling like a leaf in the wind, and I was soon shivering so violently that when my teeth chattered, it sounded like an SOS. I definitely could not drive in this condition. It wasn't that it was cold. It just stuck in my head that if I had made one little decision differently, I might not be here. I could have died back there! For some reason, that thought scared me to death. I picked up my phone, wondering who to call. I couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't be at the studio or mad at me. And I wanted someone to drive my car...

Then it occurred to me... Mason! He didn't have a car... He'd given me his number the other day, so I pressed the button with quivering fingers. Mason picked up immediately. "Hello?" He asked politely. I racked my brains, knowing that he was in college, but not quite remembering where he went or which class he was in. I didn't think he'd drop everything for me, but I figured it was worth a shot.

"Hey, Mason... It's Jude, and I was kind of wondering if you could drive me to G. Major... We're filming the video today and I think I'm already late," I implored, crossing my fingers and hoping he could help. If he didn't, I really didn't have very many options. Well, very many options that didn't endanger my life, that is. There was a brief pause, but each second that passed by made me crazier and crazier.

"Uh, Jude, I'd love to, but I don't have a car..." Mason pointed out a bit nervously. I bit my lip, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice, taking a slow, deep breath.

"I meant mine... I'm not exactly feeling up to driving. I totally understand if you don't want to..." I murmured, trying to get an answer out of Mason either way. I heard Mason laugh over the line. What, he thought I was funny? He thought I was joking? Or did he think I was stupid? Maybe he... Oh, I don't know!

"Are you kidding, Jude? I hate this class. Just tell me where you are," Mason joked brightly. Is he for real? He's so nice! He barely knows me, and yet, still... He's going to give me a ride. I think I love him right now. I felt a genuine smile cross my face as I glanced around for the address. Okay, so no help there... Ooh, hey, landmarks! I squinted to read the letters of the sign on the imposing building across the street from me.

"Um, I'm right across the street from the uh, Royal Conservatory of Music. You do know where that is, right?" I asked worriedly, biting my lip. There was an eerie silence over the phone, and for a second I felt worried he hadn't heard me. He just out of the blue decided to hang up on me. I sighed and sulked in my chair, staring moodily into space until a shadow came over me. I glanced up and saw... Mason. My jaw dropped and Mason grinned shyly, checking out my car with an approving nod. I thrust the keys into his hands, jumping into the passenger's seat and taking care to fasten my seatbelt.

Mason looked like a starving orphan kid in a candystore. He was practically salivating on the leather. But after what seemed like an eternity of staring at my baby, he closed his jaw and slid smoothly inside. I leaned over and punched him hard in the stomach for making me think he'd hung up. Mason shrugged. "Well, what do you expect? I go there..." He muttered, clearly dissatisfied. I rolled my eyes at him, and Mason reverently placed the key in the ignition and slowly backed out. Mason's such a good driver... so careful. He's kind of like Jamie in that respect, I suppose.

Mason was fully absorbed in his driving (which was entertaining to watch, to say the least). He'd never handled a car like this one before, and I could tell he liked the feel of it. I grinned a little at that and fiddled around with the radio dial. Oddly enough, Mason stopped me from changing the station when I heard my voice. After all, he had never heard "Dirty Old Man", which happened to be playing. I couldn't help but notice that the station followed it up with "Walking Contradiction".

As I heard the familiar guitar riffs and drum beats of "Dirty Old Man", I felt the tears finally start to trickle down my cheeks. Only Mason let me put my head on his shoulder and cry. He let me let out all the tears that I couldn't cry before. I felt that somehow he understood that I had my reasons, and he was patient enough to not ask any questions. He was just so sweet and so supportive. He knew, or maybe guessed about my problems with men, listening patiently when I detailed some of the things that had befallen me as of late.

I couldn't tell him about what had happened in that closet today. I couldn't ever tell anyone about that. I would rather die. I didn't even want to think about the stupid closet or the stupid man.

Mason drove to the studio with my head on his neck,and his arm was wrapped around my shoulder. He smelled nice. I sighed, burying my face in his neck. Eventually, however, we had to get up. Mason parked the car and killed the engine, and I knew that I had to thank him there. It seems even Mason was sentimental. He was going to make me cry about this too with the way he's going. I leaned back in to kiss him on the cheek to show my gratitude, but he turned his head at the wrong moment, so we kissed. For someone who didn't intend or mean to kiss me, he wasn't half bad. He really didn't seem to mind all that much.

I mean, so what if the tabloids had captured the moment on film? I'm always in them anyways. But me kissing another guy is not the way to go. I'm sick of the stares I get in the hallway. I'm sick of people looking at me like they know all my business. Right now only Mason knows even close to what actually happened, and I'm glad. It shows that I can trust him, something I so desperately needed since there was one more male I could never trust again, even if he sucked up and kissed my feet, something he'd never do anyways. I trusted Mason enough to let him touch me, knowing he wouldn't push my boundaries.

I was alive; I could handle this. That was all that mattered. So maybe I'd been felt up today... Maybe I'd had a near-death experience. But I was still standing, right? There had to be some reason. But first off all, someone's got to help me fix my bad reputation. I took a few calming breaths, forcing myself to ignore and forget the rest of the day had ever happened. But it was so much harder than you'd think.

The more I told myself not to think about it, not to dwell on it... The more I thought about it, and the more I dwelled on it. I was so distracted. Tommy made me sing fifteen takes of this song... But there was no progress. Of course there was no progress when my brain was mired in the past!

How would I ever be able to go to Music again? To face him again? To look at Joan? Guess I better hunt down some fortitude... It seems like I'm going to need it. I felt so dirty going there , knowing that I'd be kissing Tommy. I wished I could shower in-between the... Just so I wouldn't feel like some whore, kissing one guy with another smeared all over me.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I wiped my eyes and stepped out of the car, glancing up at G. Major. It was time to go inside. I took a deep breath and walked in. Predictably, the first person I saw was Tommy, looking very, very hot. Then everything seemed to blur, and Kat was handing me the black dress. I went to the bathroom to put it on and felt uncomfortable. I'd already seen what happened when I wore silk earlier. Couldn't keep the guys off of me.

I stepped out of the bathroom nervously, only minutes away from being ambushed by the make-up artists. I ought Tommy out in the room... There he was, in the far back corner. I was I too stupid to hope he'd seen me? Tommy eyes met with mine, immediately glancing downwards to take in my appearance. Well, I must've looked pretty damn good, because when he did this, he choked and spat out half his espresso... A pretty big deal, if I do say so myself.

Unless it wasn't a good thing at all. Unless it was a bad, bad, bad thing. Was it?

I was a bundle of raw nerves. Though why was I freaking? I get to do something I love on national TV, kissing Quincy. In the same alleyway where we'd first really kissed. It had happened here before. I barely would have to act. So, so why did I feel so nervous?

That's easy. This video will make you look like even more of a slut, for starters. Not to mention that this is Tommy's anniversary. And I'd done something so very regrettable...

"Jude, Tom, we start filming in ten!"

I gulped. Ten as in ten minutes? TEN! I was starting to hyperventilate, and my stomach seemed to be filled with butterflies. I didn't feel so good. I felt hot, sweaty, pale... Utterly exhausted.

But, to quote Queen, the show must go on. God willing.

"Five minutes left!"

Oh, dear God. What have I gotten myself into?

I think... I think I'm going to be sick.

Loren ;

If you liked it, reviews are appreciated. A lot. More than candy on Easter, seeing as my little cousins get to eat all of it. Though I love me some chocolate bunnies and eggs and what not... But reviews taste better... Well, they don't really taste better. They taste like old newspaper and musty old books. But they're so much more satisfying, and that's what counts. So review, hint, hint... ;)