Well, it turns out that I actually DID have time to update before Christmas. I hope you guys are having good holidays or will soon.


Tuesday, December 26, 7:58 PM

The Flynn-Fletcher Residence

Baljeet

"Welcome, welcome to the party!" Phineas says to Buford and I happily as we walk through the front door into his home. Next to him, Ferb simply just waves. "Come in, come in. There's plenty of food, and fun, and-"

"We're comin' in, Dinner Bell," Buford grunts, kicking off his shoes. Literally, he has kicked off his shoes, and they are flying across the room. A shriek is heard, as well as a splash. He then looks down at me and gives me a glare. "Go get 'em, Jeet."

I cross my arms and glare right back. "Buford, I am not your slave. We have talked about this. Plus, your shoes have landed inside of the punch bowl." I point across the room, where, sure enough, his gargantuan shoes are in the giant, ceramic bowl. Milly and Katie, both holding cups and standing by it, have disgusted looks on their faces. "You will have to get them yourself."

He narrows his eyes. "Why should I hafta-"

"Hey, Bufe," Vienna greets him, arms crossed, and as soon as his eyes land on her, they widen.

"Hey, V," he says casually and quickly, as if his sullied shoes are not currently contaminating the punch bowl at the moment. I scowl slightly, but he pretends not to notice. "When did ya get here?"

"A few minutes ago." She shrugs. "By the way, I have one question. Are those your shoes in the bowl over there?" She proceeds to shake her head. "Even after I informed you not to kick your shoes off like that, let alone when you're in a public setting."

Buford's eyes widen even more, and I snicker and give Vienna a thumb up for calling him out. She winks at me before returning her attention to her boyfriend, raising her eyebrows and waiting for his response. "Uh…well…uh…" He scratches his forehead, and he starts to blush. Buford hates to be embarrassed like this, and Vienna knows it. "Sorry."

"It's fine." She's speaking to him slowly, like he's five years old. "Just take your shoes out of the punch and then go apologize to Phineas and Ferb for ruining their punch bowl, and do the same to everyone else that wasn't able to get some."

"Why should I hafta do that? Those two can make another one in like-"

"Apologize." The glare she shoots him is intense, much like her attitude about Broadway most of the time. "Now."

He gulps, and with that, he scurries off to the other side of the room. Vienna chuckles and puts her hands on her hips. "Man," she comments as she watches him. Buford's face is all scrunched up. He reminds me of a monkey. "He's a handful."

"I would imagine."

She nods, eyes remaining on her boyfriend, who is grimacing as he slowly pulls the shoes out. The red liquid seeps through the soles, making it even clearer that he needs to buy new ones. "So, Baljeet. I…haven't really talked to you in a while. What have you been doing with your life?"

I immediately know the answer to this question, even though she does not really seem to care for the answer. "Studying, of course. Even though Yale accepted me early, I still feel the need to know more information about the different sciences and maths. You can never necessarily know everything."

She bites her lip and then mutters something under her breath that I cannot hear, something to do with her mother. If it has something to do with her mother, it is probably not good since I know that they do not have a good relationship. So I wish not to question.

There is a bit of an awkward silence afterward as we have both now realized that she acknowledged something she did not want to acknowledge. Vienna coughs a cough that is obviously counterfeit. "So. Um. I think I need to call Adyson. She's been feeling queasy lately, so she didn't feel like coming to this."

I really do not know how to respond. Adyson and I have never really been good friends, so I cannot say that I have provided a lot of sympathy for her throughout the struggles she has been going through. So to be talking to her best friend about her makes me feel ill at ease. "Well…um. How far along is she?"

She thinks for a few seconds. "Three months. And a half."

"Ah. Well…wish her luck for me."

"Um…" She hesitates. "Yeah. Sure." Vienna then walks into the next room, which just so happens to be a bathroom, pulling her cell phone out and seeming to dial a number. She pulls the door closed quietly.

This means that I am now left alone. Sighing, I reluctantly go to where Buford is standing, over by Phineas and Ferb.

"So, yeah. Sorry," he is saying, constantly shrugging. However, I can see in the look of his eyes that he is still humiliated, partly due to the fact that he is holding his now soaking-wet shoes. "V made me say it."

"Oh, it's no problem, Buford," Phineas informs him cheerfully. He looks out across the living room over to the kitchen where Isabella is standing with Emily and Ginger. My girlfriend is talking and giggling about something while Emily just looks irritated, continuously reaching up to adjust the blue bow in her hair even when it looks fine. "Hey, Isabella!"

His girlfriend looks over at him, and her smile brightens. Emily appears to look relieved, now. "Hey, Phineas. What'cha doin'?"

"Nothing much, other than entertaining friends at this awesome Christmas party. But we have a fruit punch emergency. Can you make us another bowl? Or several?"

"No problem," she calls out. She proceeds to whistle with two fingers, and with that, all of the former Fireside Girls minus Gretchen and Adyson, obviously, are surrounding her. I blink in surprise. It has been five years since their last meeting, yet they still do this? "Girls, we have work to do. Set up a fruit punch making station. There has been an emergency involving the previous bowl."

"Aye aye, captain!" they all say, saluting her and hurrying to get the job done just like they did as ten year olds. Even Aubrey, who normally does not comprehend things easily, appears to know exactly what to do, starting to set up tables for an assembly line. Lilly is the only one that does not participate, instead wheeling herself over to us and watching them from afar.

"Are you guys having fun?" she says in a dull tone. She takes a handheld mirror out of nowhere, looks at herself for two seconds, and then tucks it away somewhere.

I shrug. "I do not know. I have only been here for…" I check my watch. "Nine minutes."

Buford says nothing, instead just walking away and joining Django, who is looking at the Christmas tree. A sad look is plastered onto his face, and his arms are crossed. I would go and join them to see what is wrong with Django, but it appears that I am talking to Lilly, so it would be rude to abandon her.

The blond, meanwhile, is rolling her eyes, her signature move. "Yeah, great that you're just there, not standing out in any way. At least people aren't asking you what happened to you." She sighs and crosses her arms. "Their older sister just like, walked up to me a few minutes ago and was like, Ehmahgawd. Lilly, what happened? First of all, I don't know how the hell Candace knew my name. Second of all, what's her business to know in the first place?"

I just shrug in reply. I figure that is the safest thing to do.

"So I go, none of your business. And then she's like, all offended, being like, well, geez. I was just wondering. And then she went back to Jeremy, but then she was like-"

"Baljeet," Django interjects, poking me once in the back. I start before turning around and then giving him a weary smile. I do not think I have ever been more relieved in my life. "Buford wants to talk to you." His voice is very quiet, so it is almost hard to hear him over all of the chatter and laughter in this room, not to mention that the former Fireside Girls are still working on the fruit punch, so that is causing a bit of commotion.

Without even looking back at Lilly, who does not appear to care about my leaving, I hurry over to my bully, who still looks annoyed at what happened to him earlier. "What is the matter, Buford?"

He does not say a word, instead dragging me to a part of the room that no one is in. "Listen, Jeet," he says, constantly glancing over at the fruit punch assembly line. Three bowls are completed now, and it appears that the girls are making one more. "I've got a problem, and I need yer advice on it."

I blink. "All…right…" I reply slowly, also looking at the line. "What is the problem?"

"It's V," he informs me, lowering his voice. I wrinkle my nose. His breath smells like a combination of artificial fruit flavoring and sloppy joes, definitely not good.

I fan the air in front of me. "When was the last time you brushed your teeth?" I groan, stepping away a few feet. "You know, dental hygiene is almost more important than bathing yourself."

"Don't matter," he grunts. I do not even know if he knows what I said. "Can we get back to me and my problems, please?"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

"Like I said, it's V. See…she's been really pissin' me off lately."

Really? That is what he is worried about? I have to struggle to not start laughing. "Well, she does that to a lot of people," I point out. "It really is nothing new like you are making it out to be."

"Yeah. But this is different." Now he looks away from me, yet still keeps his blank, slightly angry expression on his face. "She keeps buggin' me to listen to her latest cover of somethin', whatever the hell that means."

"Again. That is something that all of us have gone through." I decide to simply ignore his use of bad language.

"Ya want a wedgie?" he threatens. I do not have a chance to answer before he cuts me off. "She doesn't usually bug me, though. Something's wrong with her, and I think that's why she's pissin' me off far more than usual. But sometimes, like the way she was a few minutes ago with me, she's fine. I don't get it."

I think for a second. What in the world would be wrong with her? I repeat this information to him, and he shrugs. "Dunno. But she's not actin' right, even for her. But ya know how she gets when ya barge into her business. It ain't good-"

"Buford." Now it's Vienna's turn to interrupt a conversation I am having with someone. I cannot help but notice that her face has turned pale and that a small portion of her white skirt has turned fruit-punch colored. There must have been a spill. "I just want you to know that I have to go to Isabella's, as does Isabella herself. Obviously."

He blinks. He appears to looks confused as to why she is even saying this to him. "Uh…okay…why?"

"Adyson's now sick. As in, vomiting all over the place all the time sick. Isabella and I just figured it would be a good idea to go see her. Phineas said it was okay."

"Um, okay." Now Buford appears to be uncomfortable, though I cannot put my finger on the reason why. She is acting fine, after all. "Guess I'll see ya later, then."

"I guess I will." Before turning to leave, she glances at him suspiciously. "By the way…you did get my message about seeing my latest cover, right? The one from Rent?"

Never mind.

"Uh, yeah. O' course I did." Buford rubs the back of his neck and avoids her gaze.

She frowns. "Well…all right. Hopefully, you'll get to see it soon. Now I really have to go. See you guys." With that, she joins Isabella, who has been patiently waiting this whole time, at the front door, and the two exit the house, but not before V gives the slightest glare possible to her boyfriend.

"God," Buford complains as soon as the door shuts closed and the girls are out of sight. He rubs one of his eyes absentmindedly. "She can't get a break!" He looks at me. "Please tell me I'm not the only one that saw that."

"No." I shake my head. "No, you were not."

"She has to get over the fact that I can't see her frickin' covers all the time." Now he's getting a little loud, and some of our friends are staring. He, however, does not seem to care. "Well, gee, Miss Thompson, I'm so sorry that I have a life outside o' listenin' to ya sing. Do ya sing well? Yeah, but do I need ta hear it 24/7? No, I don't!"


Savannah

"Gosh," Milly mutters next to me as Buford continues to rant to Baljeet. We're currently cleaning up the assembly line that we made since we now have four backup bowls of punch, but that doesn't mean we can't hear anything and not be somewhat worried about it. Even Phineas nearby looks nervous about what's going on, and he normally zaps anything bad away faster than an ice cube can melt in summer weather. "Buford's going insane."

"You think I don't know that?" I mutter back, glancing over at him again. Now he's pulling at his hair and pacing back and forth. "He's being worse than Ginger is when she loses one of her mascaras." I begin to imitate her. "Oh my God. I'm not gonna be able to make my eyelashes more black and full of volume and crap. Ehmahgawd, I'm so gonna die since my eyelashes won't look like they belong to a gorilla anymore. Oh. Em. Gee."

Milly snorts with laughter, but her laugh is instantly halted by someone saying, "Excuse me?"

Oh, crap. It's Ginger. I try to avoid looking at her, but of course, that doesn't happen since her eyes (which are surrounded by gorilla-looking eyelashes, by the way), are so hilarious looking that I can't tear mine away from them. "Yes?" I say. I hold back a snort.

"Savannah, may I see you in the kitchen, please?" Her voice is crisp and thin.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes, drop the tablecloth I was helping Milly carry onto the floor, and follow my ex-best friend out into the kitchen. Once we reach that destination, I lower my tone down to a whisper. "What is it?" I give her puppy dog eyes and my fake sad look. "Was I bad?"

"Quit looking constipated." She folds her arms, and I quickly drop the sad look and replace it with my unimpressed one, my normal default expression. I never was a good actress. "I brought you over here because I heard you insulting me. Insulting me in a really rude way."

"And insults are such terrible things, I know. Things that nobody ever receives but you. Uh huh. Yeah, I'm catching on."

Ginger pretends not to hear my sarcasm. "Whatever. Can you just not do that, please? After all, I never insult you. To your face, anyway. Notice the way I'm being polite to you. I could be so much harsher than I'm being now."

"Notice the way I'm not saying yes to your question and how I don't appear to be the least bit affected in any way. In fact, I'm less affected by the way you just spoke to me than Santa Claus is every time he swallows one of those filled-with-fat-and-sugar cookies. If he were an actual person, he'd be dead by now. Do you know how much cholesterol can be in a bloodstream before the person in question has a heart attack or a stroke, or permanent brain damage? Yet, Santa's still alive and well. And like him, so am I. Neither of us cares over things trying to rock our boats, whether it's because of brain-washed so-called beauties with gorilla eyelashes or cookies that should be killing us but somehow are not."

Now Ginger's looking at me like I'm a pigeon and I just took a shit on her car. The look on her face would kill if venomous. However, her eyes have gone wider than a giant squid's eye. "…Enough with the smartass remarks, Schumacher." She's trying to look undefeated, but I can tell by the look on her face and the trembling of her voice that she knows she's lost this pointless argument. Wait. Was this even an argument? I was the only one giving any valid points. "Um…"

"To conclude what I have just told you," I inform her, thereby interrupting what other pointless crap she could try to send out of her mouth, "Sometimes it's best to just not care when someone who actually knows how to talk words that aren't jibberish insults you."

"I do not talk-" she begins indignantly, but I cut her off.

"Uh uh. I'm not done. Sometimes, it's also good to not call the person out on it, anyway. You know they're just going to win, anyway, as it was this time." I turn around and begin to head back to Milly, whose jaw is slacked.

"What…in the world…just happened?" she says in a somewhat incredulous tone.

I shrug, pretending to examine my fingernails when in reality I'm glancing over at Buford. He's sitting on the couch now, head in his hands. Baljeet is still standing next to him, looking uncertain, and Ginger is next to him, attempting to catch his attention but failing. Come to think of it, he may be ignoring her on purpose. Not that I would blame him. "I called Ginger out, finally. I think she finally realized that she shouldn't mess with me."

Milly nods slowly. "Well, okay…but was that whole speech necessary? Not that I'm against it, but, I don't know, I think it could have been handled a little differently…"

"No, it couldn't," I counter-argue. I look over at Buford again, Phineas and Ferb now appearing to talk to him as well (actually… just Phineas), and sigh. I don't continue to talk to Milly, instead nodding at her and then walking over to the Christmas tree. And for the next few hours, all I can do is stare at it.

I ignore everything that's going on around me. People laughing, people eating cake, people drinking homemade apple cider from Phineas and Ferb's latest invention that actually didn't disappear, people calling others on their cell phones, people texting others on their cell phones, including ones in the same room as them, people leaving and shutting the front door with really loud slams.

All I do for the next few hours is tune all of those things out, stare at the tree while sitting down on the couch, and think. I don't think about anything in particular, just about what's been happening recently to me. Finding out about the whole moving-away-for-the-summer thing, Ginger being such a bitch to me when I did nothing wrong except insult her once or twice, which almost everyone does to each other all the time, my mother bugging me more than usual, and the still-constant thoughts about the person I used to call my dad.

I don't like talking about him, so I won't go into details about it to you even though you probably really want to know what the hell he even did to me to make me hate him. To summarize, it's…long, and complicated, and it should have gotten him in trouble with the law.

On the contrary, he moved away somewhere in Asia and failed to pay the mortgage, leaving my mom and I kicked out of the house. This led to us living in a shelter, which led to me telling Ginger, who told the school board, which got me so mad that I screamed at her in the middle of the mall, which abruptly stopped our friendship, which made me more mad than usual, which depressed my mom even more, which made my dad finally return her pleading calls to talk to him since she wouldn't shut up, which led to him finally sending us money, which led to her starting this business, which ultimately led to me having to sacrifice my last fun summer.

If it weren't for my father being such a bastard...none of that would have happened. Ginger and I would still be best friends, and she wouldn't have become the way she is now, all judgmental and condescending. It's honestly sad to see her this way. I mean…we were best friends for six years.

That's why I'm kind of worried about Buford and Vienna now. If they don't work this little tiff they have right now out…they could possibly end up like my parents did in the future. One little flame, after all, can lead to a huge explosion. Their children, like me, could stop believing in true love, because, after all, kids take after what they see from their parents. Do they want to? Not really, but do they anyway? Usually.

Sighing, I wearily look at the clock. It's almost midnight now, but I don't feel like leaving. It's not like anyone else is, anyway. Besides…I kinda like it here. It's nowhere near as loud and rambunctious as it was before, so it's a good place to really sort out my problems.

Or, at least, attempt to sort out my problems. There really are just too many to really do something about them.

Next Chapter Preview: Isabella and Vienna check back in with Adyson and chart her various symptoms. How's she been doing, overall?


Uh oh. Now it appears that Buford and Vienna are having some problems. Though Buford could calm down a little bit, Vienna shouldn't be bugging him so much, since clearly, he's annoyed by it. Though I have to wonder what's making her more persistent about him listening to her covers to begin with…*coughproblemswithhermomagain thatwe'llseelatercough*

As for Savannah…as you can see, I'm slowly starting to develop her story, kind of give some background information about it before her spin-off comes out into writing. She's actually my favorite OC to write as, as of right now, mainly because she's such a complex character both emotionally and with her personality, so it gives me a little bit of a challenge. (Not to mention that the long, sarcastic speeches she gives are really fun to write. Just saying.)