An: I'm siiiiick. Like I'm dying, I'm dead and I've died sick. Ugh. I was blind for two days! Because apparently stupid mucus isn't happy with just clotting up your nose, throat, and lungs, but it also has to travel up your nasal passage and get into your eyes! Since when could mucus even do that!? It scratched my corneas up so bad that I couldn't open my eyes and then even when I could it was still another day before the medicine managed to clear things up enough that it didn't seem like I was constantly looking through a cloud of milk!

Ugh, anyways I'm still too sick to do anything, and I can't exactly see well enough to drive yet. But I can more or less make out the black and white text on my computer screen so I finally managed to finish this chapter. It's been tormenting me for three weeks with it's almost finishedness.

I'm really sorry it took this long.

To everyone who reviewed thank you so much! As with most viruses that last a long time I eventually hit an extremely depressed point and your guys' helpful comments and kind words really helped me out. Seriously guys, I know you weren't there to see it but…we had a moment.

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It's Party Time, Dammit!

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"Thanks again for the tea!" I called, waving goodbye to Rosa while I climbed up the bus stairs. She waved back happily before going back inside Leighs bottom floor apartment. Leigh stood just inside the entrance and right before the door closed I noticed him wrap an arm around her shoulders causing her to giggle. Yeah it was corny and super lovey dovey but I couldn't help the smile I got from seeing the gesture. He was making an effort, that was clear. And I was happy for Rosa.

It was late afternoon and a lot of people were getting off work at this time so the bus was fairly crowded. I ended up standing and holding onto one of the polls about midway back. I slipped my arm free of one of my backpack straps and brought the whole thing forward to hold it at my chest. It was mostly to keep it from swinging around and hitting anybody, but also partly because I didn't have the energy to keep up enough vigilance to be on the lookout for pickpockets. True this bus was mostly filled with older respectable people, and even if there was a potential thief amongst them I'd probably be the last person pegged as a mark. Still, I'd learned to ere on the side of caution when riding busses and subways.

Besides, it gave me another chance to peak at the little keychain Rosa had given me.

I still couldn't believe that she'd done that. She had insisted it was nothing, and that they'd had it in the shop for months, something about their high end cliental not liking cheap accessories. It was a metal pale pink rose, with several little buds and a pair of beaded strings hanging around it. I thought it was the coolest thing ever.

Rosayla had one just like it and she said it could be like a friendship key chain.

That was the main part I was still trying to wrap my head around. I'd done it. I'd actually made a friend. It made me feel all giddy right in the pit of my stomach. Sure I've had people I've been close to in the past, and there was even a time when I've called those people friends.

People I've sat with at the lunch table. People I've hung out with after school. People who I've exchanged birthday gifts and such with before. But all of those people came in and out of my life like I-pod earbuds. Some of them lasted for months, some of them crapped out in a few weeks, and some limped along only half working until I finally just gave up on them.

Eventually I'd just kind of accepted that that would be the inevitable outcome, and after a while I guess I just stopped considering people to be friends. All those people were just people. We flitted in and out of each other's lives and we moved on.

I'd stopped caring.

A new town just meant new streets to wander, a new school just meant new teachers to annoy, new students meant new victims for pranks, and a new 'home' meant let's see how quickly I can piss these people off. I mean it was gonna happen anyways. Might as well challenge myself and at least make things a little interesting.

My current record was seventeen hours.

But Auntie, well she made things different. I don't have a fricken clue why but I think she actually likes having me. And…I'll admit I like her. I like her cookies, and I like how she lets me sleep in sometimes, and I like that she helps me with my homework even when its mostly just her doodling on the margins of my worksheets, and while it's the dorkiest thing ever it's also pretty cool that she spends half her time dressed up like fairy. I like living with her.

So I want to stay here, at least for now.

So I'm laying roots. I'm gonna make friends. And there not gonna be dinky little earbud friendships, they're gonna be like the goddamn nirvana of awesome headphone friendships! Those big ones that you can put stickers on, and that practically scream 'that's right fools, I'm rockin' it'!

And it wasn't me that had to ask Rosa if she and I were friends. She outright declared it at tea.

She had shown me the apartment and Leigh and Lysander hadn't seemed to mind as she dragged me around what was clearly their space. It pretty much screamed 'we are eccentrics and we embrace that'.

The apartment wasn't huge, but there was more than enough space for two guys, a kitchen, and an elaborate living space that was more or less serving as a secondary design room. Rosa had told me that there was a big one in the back of the shop, but it seemed that Leigh's creativity had overflowed to their home. It was still very clean but the walls were tagged with gorgeous sketches and designs, and an entire wall had a work table filled with supplies and three different sewing machines lining it. There was a couch and a television, but the remote was sitting on top of the dvd player and both devices had a small layer of dust on them so I got the feeling that they don't see a lot of use.

The kitchen/dining room was absolutely beautiful with an actual chandelier hanging over the center counter. All the wooden cabinets and drawers had trim on them, some of the corners sporting golden etchings. Glass windowed cabinets allowed you to see inside shelves lined with beautifully painted cutlery and plate ware, and Leigh even had a legit wine rack.

And since the apartment was on the first floor they even had a porch, with white painted railings, and a hanging couch swing that Rosa and I sat on while we all chatted and drank our tea.

I've never been to Leighs shop so I have nothing but Rosas word to go on for how couture it is, but if that apartment is anything to go on than I can pretty much assume that the shop is fairly successful.

The Victorian fashion was still a big thing in Eurode, however it was mostly only worn by the upper-class who could truly afford such things. When I'd first met Lysander I'd actually assumed he might have been an heir apparent or something. But no, he was just a cool guy in a suit.

Leigh makes a lot of opulent designer things and according to Rosa he receives the 'appropriate' clientele for those things. But he'd also designed several lines that were made with coupon cutters like me in mind. It's actually kind of neat that Leigh is able to create all those Lolita and Victorian inspired clothes that the humble masses can afford. There not as upscale or decorative as what you'd find at a fancy dinner party, but I could definitely see Rosas favorite outfit being the uniform for a finishing school or something.

After tea Rosayla had shown me her latest clothing project, a traditional Egyptian inspired line, and then she decided that I just had to go home with something. One of those things was the key chain, the other…

I tried to keep from blushing at the thought of the other 'gift' Rosa had insisted upon. It was shoved into the bottom of my backpack, far away from sight but unfortunately not out of mind. I'd told her she had the wrong idea, that it was completely unnecessary, and also seriously, why do you just have something like this on hand?

If there's one thing I've learned in the three months of attending Sweet Amoris it was that Rosayla Stone was a little…odd.

Maybe our friendship actually did have a shot in hell.

The bus finally reached my block and I shuffled off behind an official looking young business man and a gaggle of girls all loaded up with shopping bags that giggled whenever one of them looked at him. I rolled my eyes, and I was very grateful when they turned right and I went left.

The business guy went my way though as he took off in a brisk walk and I had to give the guy props. Living in this neighborhood and dressed like that...that dude was going places. But those girls might want to reevaluate their attraction if they were looking for a hottie with a bank account.

The walk up to Aunties apartment was uneventful. Well unless you wanted to count the elaborate game of kick the can taking up the entire parking lot, which nearly resulted in two kids tackling me. And there was the league of crotechy crocheting old ladies that were sitting in the apartments communal room, they always felt the need to comment on whatever aspect of me deemed me as a hooligan, their reasoning changed day to day. Auntie says I have to be nice to them, so I stood there for two minutes while they debated on whether or not my converse or my hair was more deserving of reproach. The staircase was littered with what I'm gonna say was 92 pairs of socks for reasons I'm still entirely unaware of. But honestly all of that was kind of the norm for this apartment building so yeah, uneventful.

As I neared the apartment I fished around my pockets for my key, only to realize that the door was already unlocked. And when I stepped inside sure enough, Auntie was already home, sitting at the kitchen counter with a book in one hand and a mug of tea in the other.

Without looking up from her page she said, "Hello sweetie. So I just got off the phone with your teacher."

I froze in the middle of toeing off my shoes and did one of those jilted off balance jerks. I didn't say anything, my mind wasn't blank it was just repeating: crap crap crap crap crap dang crap crap, and I don't think any of that would be helpful right now.

Auntie took a sip of her tea, and turned a page in her book, "Do you remember what I said about detentions last month sweetie?" She looked at me in a way that clearly said: soooo, explain.

I debated briefly about the merits of plausible deniability.

"Okay fine," I blurted "so I may have tackled Capucine and, and spit on her. But she'd been bouncing balls off my head and I don't care what excuse she came up with about being uncoordinated, it was entirely purposeful!"

Auntie blinked at me.

I blinked back.

"You tackled a girl and spit on her?" Auntie finally said.

"Err…yes? Is that…not what you were talking about?"

"…No. I was refereeing to the paint incident from yesterday."

"…Oh."

"Well" Auntie said, and if I didn't know better I'd say she was holding back a smile, "you're definitely not getting out of coming to work with me tomorrow now."

"Kay" I mumbled.


Where the heck are you?

Dude, get over here there's these hot acrobats in leotards!

I am now eating cotton candy without you!

Look if you're gonna chicken out on me at least be man enough to tell me to my face.

So get your butt to the damn party and tell me.

And then just don't leave

Nathaniel

Cooomme ooonnn. Rolands here and he's beating everyone at that blowup stick bash thing and he won't stop talking shit.

Seriously, it'll take you like two minutes to kick his ass

Two minutes isn't asking much

NATHANIEL

You said you'd ride the roller coaster with me and we'd puke our guts out!

Okay, well actually I said that, but you hadn't disagreed.

Seriously?! Now your even text ignoring me?

Well fine,

Nathaniel

Nathaniel

Nathaniel

Nathaniel

I hope your phone is beeping obnoxiously at you

Nathaniel

Nathaniel

Faaefhaoiehfoihaeiohfoi!

ANSWER YOUR PHONE!

That's it! I'm coming over and I'm kidnapping you!

AND WE'RE GONNA PARTY HARD!

I lazily scrolled through the parade of text messages that Mica had been sending me for the past hour. They'd stopped about five minutes ago which meant that he was probably making good on his threat to come 'kidnap' me.

Maybe it's a good thing I won't be here by the time he shows up.

It took approximately 40-45 minutes to drive from Mica's family estate to my house, so given the way he drives he'll be here in about twenty minutes. But Sinclair wanted to leave in less than half that time so Mica would be showing up to an empty house.

I had no doubt that I'd be getting another long list of texts when that happened.

But it wasn't exactly like I had a choice in the matter. Father had left for the weekend on a business trip and taken Mother with him, and Amber was spending the day and night at a friend's house which meant it was just me and the staff for most of the weekend. Only because it was just me, Father had decided to give the cook and our two maids the day off as well, so it was actually just me and our Butler Sinclair.

Even though nobody's said it, we all know that he's here to keep an eye on me. Seventeen years old and Father still doesn't trust me. Probably thinks I'm going to throw a wild party or something.

Amber did that once and guess who got blamed.

I wouldn't have minded the peace and quiet so much if it weren't for Sinclair being so blatant about 'keeping an eye on the boy'. My bedroom door was still locked from the outside. He'd declared lights out at nine o'clock last night and it was now nearly eleven in the morning. His reasoning for why I still needed to be stuck in here; apparently I couldn't be trusted enough to not wander off to watch Saturday morning cartoons when I should be studying.

Idiot. I didn't even watch cartoons, and I had many more distractions in here. After all, my book collection was excessively more entertaining than any mindless drivel of flashing colors.

I couldn't even use the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom to get out of here, because being the oldest, I got the secondary master bedroom. Which meant I had my own bathroom. Yippee for me.

When my family had first moved into this house several years ago I had been honestly surprised and a little bit touched that my parents felt I should be receiving something before Amber.

Now I wondered if Father hadn't had extreme groundings in mind all along.

As soon as the thought entered my mind I immediately felt bad and shook it away.

What am I thinking? That wasn't it. Father and Mother wouldn't have been considering such things when we moved here. It's not like any parent ever wanted to punish there child.

It was a nice gift for them to let me have this room and nothing else. I shouldn't be turning it around, acting like a whiny teenager and using it as some kind of misplaced accusation against my parents.

I could practically feel the seedlings of self-hatred begin to grow and twist in my stomach so I quickly shook the thoughts away. Father had left me with one hell of a lecture yesterday about how I needed to reevaluate the way I treated my family. We were supposed to be united and care about each other. And I honestly couldn't disagree with him when he told me I'd been so self-involved that I'd been doing a poor job of it lately.

And here I was again feeling sorry for myself and thinking dark thoughts about them all.

I sighed and tried to focus on the textbook in front of me. It was my Latin text and next to it sat my many notes and another book with a deep red cover and gold lettering proclaiming it: Untranslated Manuscripts for the Studious and the Learned, Volume three. Our Latin teacher Mr. Roleck, had an entire shelf full of the little red books. We got extra credit for every manuscript we managed to puzzle out and so far I was half way through the seventh book of the twelve he had available.

I was actually pretty good at Latin, pretty good at languages in general I suppose. Like most kids of our standing, Amber and I had been introduced to a variety of languages before we were even out of primary school. Amber only cared enough to be acquainted with the 'fashionable' languages but I had taken to the subject with quite some vigor. My tutors had been more than willing to feed my hunger. So when I started Latin II this year, with Mr. Roleck, I was already leaps and bounds ahead of most of the class.

Well, I was until a certain annoying bullheaded girl showed up.

Malorys first day of classes at Sweet Amoris still stuck out like a flashing neon sign in my memory. When I'd initially bumped into her in the hallways she hadn't made much of an impression on me. She was just another student, just another person I had to deal with in the maelstrom of high school. But then her file had been displaced forcing me to actually interact with her, all the while listening to her seemingly endless supply of sarcastic remarks. But eventually, file found, picture and fee supplied, and Malory Jones would slip into the background and become nothing more than a piece of paper I occasionally had to make notes on.

And then ten minutes later we had Latin together.

I couldn't believe it at first. The girl had been so uncivilized during our earlier dealings and Mr. Rolecks AP Latin II class wasn't exactly known for being easy. But I shrugged it off, what did it matter to me if she took a class she was going to fail. Considering the way she has spent almost the entire first half of the period either doodling or starring out the window I eventually figured she had signed up for the class because she'd assumed it would be an easy A.

Well Mr. Roleck was going to dissuade her of that notion.

Mr. Roleck was by no means a nice teacher. Not to say that he's mean. He's fair but he's just very, well, harsh. You either work you butt off or you don't pass. Personally I loved his class. He challenged and pushed and made you work for every single thing, and from the few conversations I've had with the man I've gathered that he has the same approach to life. If you want something: fight for it.

So there we all were going through our usual morning lecture full of rapid fire questions that Mr. Roleck would shoot off to the class and sometimes to students individually. I had answered the most, with Theodesius, the other class brainiac, right behind me.

Then Mr. Roleck decided it was time to play the word match game.

"This should work out well," Mr. Roleck said, "now that Mrs. Jones is here we'll finally have even teams." Malory looked up at the mention of her surname. Before she came there were only eleven people in the class.

"Allow me to explain the rules for our new student," Mr. Roleck said, as he lifted the role down diagrams that covered the rooms' five white boards, "It's a simple enough game, before class I wrote these Latin Roots and modern words across the boards. The class is divided into two teams, each side will have one student come up and try to match as many words and roots as they can as quickly as they can. They go until they've finished a board or once they've done all that they can do, then it will be the next students turn. Simple, yes?"

He turned to look at Malory who while still looking uninterested, was at least paying attention now. She nodded to the question that had obviously been directed at her.

"Good," Mr. Roleck said, "Well then, why don't you come up first for your side of the class Mrs. Jones," he looked at me, "Nathaniel," he simply said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the boards.

Yep, he obviously intended to teach Malory a lesson about paying attention in his class. Having her go up against me meant having the best student show her up, (and considering the way teenagers minds worked), most likely embarrassing her in front of her peers.

At least the other half of the class had Theodesius on their team. I could tell he was itching to get up here. Theodesius was, well he was smart, but he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. Honestly I would feel bad for him, (considering how much time and money his parents put into tutoring him), if he wasn't such a complete bloated headed little toad. And quite frankly anybody who refuses to shorten a pretentious name like Theodesius to something simple like Theo deserves to get knocked down a few pegs.

When I took my place at the board and caught Malory's eye I could tell the moment she recognized me. There was a brief widening of her eyes followed by a petulant scowl. It was the first expression I'd seen on her all class.

I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to embarrass her. But Mr. Roleck had a point about being engaged in class. Maybe I could just go a little slower than I usually would, at least until Theodesieus came up to the board.

But Malory had turned her glare to the pen in her hand, and she just looked at it for a moment, then back to the board, a side glance at me, and then something just snapped behind those green eyes.

I didn't it know then, but it was on.

Mr. Roleck gave us an; "On your mark…get set…go!"

I matched one of the words right in front of me and went to do a second when Malory's blue pen shot out and got it before me. She did it again with the next word I reached for. What the heck? Was she deliberately trying to get the words that we're easier for me to reach first?

I saw her going for another that was near my shoulder.

My arm darted out before I'd even found the root it matched too. But my eyes found it a second later.

Malory was already squeaking her pen in her rush for another word.

Back and forth, back and forth. Our pens flew across the board in a mad dash to get done first. At one point Malory even ducked beneath my arm and would have bumped into me if I hadn't reared back in surprise.

Soon there was only one word and root left. Our pens flew for it at the same time. Luckily for me it was higher on the board, easy reach for me, but just barely within Malory's fully stretched out arms reach. But just as my pen landed on it Mr. Rolecks voice rang out from the back of the classroom where he'd been watching, "do the next board," he said.

Both our heads snapped back to look at him. I'd actually kind of forgotten that he and the rest of the class were there, the class that was now staring at the two of us with identical wide eyed expressions. Mr. Roleck however was just standing there, leaning against the back wall, with his arms crossed, and a considering look on his face.

Malory moved before I did. Ducking under my outstretched arm, again. She jumped over to the next board and started connecting its words.

I hurriedly finished the line I'd been making and joined her at the board as well. And so it began again.

We covered the second board in blue and red lines. Malory didn't bother taking the extra second it toke to reach for the higher words and instead she literally jumped, occasionally bumping my arm or me in the process. When the second board was nearly complete, Mr. Roleck told us to do the next one. By the time that one was done we didn't even need him to tell us to do the fourth.

I'd never actually gone this fast before. Sure I loved this class, and I always worked hard to do my best in it resulting in several sleepless nights, but this was something else. This wasn't just the mundane stay on top of it enough to keep that jerk Theodesius's head from swelling. I knew I could beat him, sometimes without even trying all that hard. But this. I could actually feel an adrenaline rush.

We finished the fifth board at the exact same time. Immediately I began counting all the little red lines across the five boards. I'm pretty sure Malory was doing the same with the blue lines. It couldn't have taken more than half a minute before I looked down at her just as she looked up,

"56" I said.

Only….at the same time she said the exact same thing.

It was almost comical the way both our eyes widened before snapping back to the boards to count each other's marks. And gods dammit, there really were just as many blue lines as there were red.

"Not bad," Mr. Roleck called from the back of the class. "Though, I think I'm going to have you two go last next time we play this."

I'm still not sure if it was Mr. Rolecks plan all along but Malory was definitely much more engaged after that. For the rest of the class she toke notes and had raised her hand at nearly every question he asked.

And then we ended up having math together, and then history, and then classical studies, and class after class for that entire week I was greeted with the sight of a fiery eyed Malory Jones.

And here we were three months later, still wrapped up in our petty little rivalry. I don't know why I let that girl get to me so much. It wasn't like being the top student was that important to me. It mattered to my parents sure, but it's not like they'd ever know. The only classes mother ever frequently checked up on were my economics class and my cultural studies. Malory wasn't in economics and quite frankly she was terrible at cultural studies. The girl cannot dance.

But heck, I could maintain my top student status without being drawn into this ridiculous feud. I just needed beat her had midterms. There was no need to get sucked into every stupid competition that came up between the two of us.

But for some reason every time I saw that look in her eyes, the one that said 'bring it', I just couldn't help myself. I needed to win.

Granted I hadn't seen that look lately.

I'm glad I'm alone right now, that way nobody could see me as I slouched and banged my head against the desk.

What was wrong with me? I should be happy that Malory was avoiding me. It gave me more time to focus on my real studies. Father will want an update on everything I did this weekend when he comes home on Monday. I should really stop thinking about the most annoying girl in the world. I mean, quite frankly if this juvenile rivalry were to end it would probably be a good thing, for the both of us. So maybe it would be for the best if I just…went along with things as they are.

I glanced at my nightstand where the macabre little cat doll slumped across the corner, smiling its sideways 3 shaped mouth and looking back at me with its mismatched button eyes.

At first the doll had confused me, well, okay actually at first it had surprised me. Mostly because it came flying at me from a shouting Malory on a moving bus. But once she was gone the felt creation had only confused me.

I'd stared at it the entire walk to kendo, trying to figure out what in the world could have been going through that annoying girls head. Was the toy the beginnings of some kind of elaborate prank? I'd squished it a few dozen times to see if there was anything besides fuzz inside.

I just couldn't understand it or her.

But then it hit me about halfway through kendo. The doll was an apology.

The realization only confused me further. It hadn't even occurred to me that Malory would feel the need to do that. After the fight we'd had I'd apologized to her and honestly that had been the end of the whole affair for me. I hadn't expected a return on the apology, in fact such a thing had never even crossed my mind. People didn't generally do such things for me and I had accepted that as a fact of my life a long time ago.

And she hadn't just given me the doll, because it was obvious that the felt creation was hand sewn. And I wasn't sure if the mismatching button eyes were an intentional attempt at being cute or if they were another reflection of a lack of skill on the seamstress's part. So she'd either gotten someone to make it or…more likely, she'd done it herself.

And that was…sweet.

Which is the last word I would ever associate with a girl like Malory Jones. She was stubborn, she was pig headed, she was arrogant, bratty, obnoxious, uncouth, and all around just a royal pain in the…well, anyways it was very confusing.

There was a knock at my door, and without waiting for an invitation to come in Sinclair undid the lock and opened it. "We're leaving now," was all he said.

I nodded to show that I understood, and with that he left me alone to gather my things.

Perhaps it will be good to go to the library, it'll be easier to focus there and right now that's what I needed to do. After all, Father will be wanting that update on all of my progress this weekend when he and mother return Monday evening.

I grabbed a duffle bag with a note taped to it for Mica. Just because I wasn't going to his party didn't mean I hadn't gotten him anything. I was going to give it to him during kendo but perhaps if I left it at the front gate for him to find it would assuage his aggravation for me not being here. I hurried down to the stairs and out to the car, Sinclair was already in the driver's seat.

I'll worry about the little doll and the girl associated with it later.


"You know, if you wanted to punish me, this might not have been the best way to go about it," I said, while holding another little girls hand has she did her ballerina twirl. Her frilly two toned tutu fluttered around with her giggles. The music stopped and she curtseyed to me before trotting off to her friends at the craft table.

Despite almost always ducking out of coming with Auntie to her work I actually did enjoy helping her. People were always surprised to learn that I liked hanging out with kids, they were even more surprised to discover that I was good at it. Not sure why it's such a shocker, I mean why would I, socially inept Malory, ever get along with an entire group of people that were consistently silly, awkward, and honest to the point of being rude? A real mystery for the ages that one.

If you ask me, kids were easy, they made sense, adults not so much.

"It's not about punishment," Auntie said, picking up various toys and dolls that had become scattered across the floor during the last two hours, "it's about learning a lesson."

I bent down to start helping her. Story time had gotten a little nuts today when Auntie had encouraged all the kids to grab a doll and take turns enacting what they thought should happen next. Today's hero had started off by wandering through an enchanted forest as many tales tend to begin, but had ended with him commandeering a velociraptor and becoming best friends with a plushy snowman, who was really Jack Frost under a spell, and of course he had a crush on Elsa, and all of them ended up on a train where they ordered pizza which was delivered by Batman.

"And how is this," I shook the pillow turtle doll I was holding, "teaching me a lesson."

Auntie shrugged, "well this," she jostled her own toy; a floppy unicorn with glitter tassels for a tail, "is not so much a lesson and more about getting you to interact with society in a positive manner. Although I'll admit that the outfit is a bit of a punishment." She gestured to the clothes I was currently being forced to ware, a frilly just above the knees skirt, with pink hearts and ribbon making up the seams, and a ballerina top (with even more ribbon) that had elbow length ruffle sleeves. The wings that were stitched into the back of it sometimes got caught on things but Auntie had made them fairly durable. Everything was in corresponding colors to Aunties own fairy outfit, making me the fairy godmothers young protégé and it was up to the children of the world to teach me kindness and help me understand what it meant to be a fairy godmother. Kids loved our mock story, and always took great lengths to express all that I needed to know about being a good fairy.

I'll admit, it was a clever idea of Aunties, and it was a great way to get them talking about kindness and what that meant. How I felt about the outfit however…

Auntie smiled in a way that almost looked like a smirk, "it helps that you're a teenager and still find these kind of things mortifying," she said.

I looked away, scowling, not wanting to admit how right she was. I could only imagine how horrified I'd be if Amber or one of her cronies ever caught me in this getup. The whole drive here I'd been slouching behind the car window, and I'd refused to put the tiara and wings top on until we'd arrived.

"As for the lesson part however," Auntie said while we deposited our armloads into the toy trunk, "that part can be now, if you're feeling ready to talk about it."

I glanced at the ground while absently playing with my turtle-pillows arms, "the second detention wasn't my fault," I mumbled.

"According to your teacher you threw paint over three other students," Auntie said patiently.

"Yeah well, I didn't mean to," I said, "it was an accident."

"That's some accident," Auntie said, I peeked at her through my bangs and there was a faint smile on her lips. She sat down on the bed nearest us and motioned for me to join her. I did, bringing my turtle-pillow with me, clutching it to my chest and using the fuzzy shell as a chin rest.

"But it was an accident," I said, "I was just trying to help Nathaniel and then something bumped into my back and all the paint went flying out, and I really didn't mean to."

"Nathaniel? Isn't that the boy you don't like, why where you trying to help him?"

"Cause…because."

"Just because?"

"…Yes."

"…Malory."

"…Agatha."

Auntie just raised an expectant eyebrow at me, declaring that this little evading game was now over.

"Ugh, okay fine" I said, "I might…have felt kind of bad about…about some other stuff, and so I was just trying to be nice to him and, and not screw up, but I did screw up! And there was so much paint, and with my luck I probably ruined his favorite tie or something, not that that's a huge loss, almost all of them are blue anyways, and there stupid and dumb. I mean they just make him seem more proper than he already has any right to be, because he's such a perfect, altruistic, goody-goody-"

"Breath Malory, breath," Auntie patiently patted my knee, drawing me out of my ravings.

I took a deep breath, and let it out. "Anyways, um, I was trying to apologize, and so I was just trying to help him, a little."

"Is this boy the same reason you were making a card at three in the morning?"

I nodded, bumping my chin against the turtle several times.

Auntie sighed, I felt her hand begin to stroke my short hair. It was nice, and I was glad we'd gotten to a point where touching was okay. "And did you actually apologize to him?" Auntie asked, but from her tone and actions I kind of got the feeling she already knew the answer.

"Yes…no, maybe, I don't know," I groaned, burying my head in the turtle.

"Well, did he accept your apology?"

"That's what I don't know," somehow she heard me despite my voice being muffled by several layers of felt and fuzz.

"Then sweetie maybe you need to ask him."

I peeked at her with one eye, "I don't think he wants to talk to me."

Auntie shrugged, "maybe not. But if he's as 'goody-goody' as you say I think that he'll at least hear you out. And honestly, this is less about him and more about what you need to do. This has been bothering you sweetie, which means somethings wrong and that you have to do something about it. You know what that something is."

I groaned. I already knew that she'd made her point, and even worse I agreed with it. But I wanted to indulge in petulant childishness, even if it was only for another few seconds. "But I don't want to," I complained.

Auntie smiled, "well to bad. Part of being an adult is-"

"Is doing things we don't want to do," I finished the sentence with her, granted a lot less cheerfully than she said it.

"Good," Auntie said, "now…as for the other detention…"

I looked away in sudden embarrassment, "okay, that one might be less of an accident."

"You spat in another girls eye."

"…she had it coming."

"Never the less, violence is not the answer. One week of extra chores, deal?"

"Deal," I mumbled. I couldn't help but notice that Auntie didn't call me out on declaring that Capucine deserved a loogie in her eye.

"Right, well then," Auntie clapped her hands on her knees and stood up, "we'll say that that's the punishment, as for the lesson…" she left the thought hanging, smiling down at me and nodding towards the doorway.

"What…now?!" I said, going rigid.

"No time like the present!" Auntie said cheerfully, "and honestly Sweetie, I know you slept badly last night, and you can't do that for the rest of the weekend. Need to be ready to learn come Monday, after all it is midterm's week."

"But, but its Saturday! I mean he has to deal with me all week, there's no way he'd want to see me on one of his days off!"

"Sweetie, I want you to be honest with yourself. If you put this off till Monday, do you think there might be a chance you'll work yourself up and chicken out?"

"…"

"Be honest."

"Maybe."

Auntie just smiled at me.

"But-"

"Rip the band aid off Sweetie, just get it over with." She pulled me to my feet and started steering me towards the door. I didn't resist, but that didn't stop my mouth.

"But, but what about all the kids. You said you needed my help today".

"I think I'll be fine," Auntie said, rolling her eyes and looking to the gaggle of children that were surrounded by multiple off duty and on break hospital staff. Aunties visits where an attraction for all ages, and it was pretty normal for her to end up with several helpers wherever she went.

"But I don't have a change of clothes!" I spluttered, gesturing at my fairy outfit.

Auntie paused for a moment considering this. She had no problem going out into public in her getup so I bet it didn't even occur to her that I would have to do so to get to Nathaniel's house. And then…Amber would able to see me.

After some deliberation Auntie finally shrugged, "eh, consider it another punishment then."

"What?! But I thought that's what the chores where for!"

"You tackled and spat in someone's eyes sweetie, I think I'm aloud to dish out some consequences for that," she grabbed my shoulders and began steering me towards the door again.

I groaned, "Just so you know, theres a good chance I'm ripping these wings off out of frustration before the days done."

"I'll have the sewing kit ready when you get home. Remember to look both ways before crossing the street! By sweetie!"

And out the door I went.

I left the turtle at the floors reception desk.

As I made my way through the halls, nobody in the children's hospital spared me, the girl in the outrageous costume, a second glance. Searching for blondies address in the phonebook inside the booth out front of the hospital got me a few sideways looks. On the bus, people….starred. I in turn stared out the window, praying that this encounter wasn't going to be as horrifying as I was imagining it.

There'd be some snide remarks from Amber, that was a certainty. And it would probably carry over into the week, but I could handle the witch and her minions. Just so long as she wasn't there to overhear whatever it was I was going to say to Nathaniel, I hadn't figured out what yet.

But if Nathaniel decided to laugh, which he probably would, that was not going to make this any easier. And Auntie was kind of right, or well, completely right, I needed to do this.


I could not believe that idiot.

After I drove all the way over here, nearly rear ending a soccer mom, and getting into a shouting match with a grouchy old man over where it was acceptable to park, and Nathaniel didn't even have the decency to be home! So what if his dad was a jerk, and his butler was a sniveling toady brute. We we're supposed to rebel at our age, so I was getting that idiot to my birthday party even if it killed me!

"The entire point of this neighborhood is to get away from you hooligans!"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the old man that was still gibbering at me. If there's one thing that high and mighty assholes like him hated it was when the youth of today was being disrespectful. That and the dreads, they all hated my dreads. I made it very obvious that I wasn't paying attention to a word he said while pulling out my phone to type out a very well thought out and persuasive text to Nathaniel on why he should ditch the crotchety butler and come to the party.

'YOU ASSHOLE!'

And with that task completed I hit the send button.

Not that I actually blamed the blonde know it all for being gone, but I knew from years of experience that often the only way to get Nathaniel to engage in a social life was through arguing, haggling, bullying, and sometimes kidnapping. He hasn't had a stroke yet, so I figure I'm doing something right.

The trouble with Nathaniel was finding a way to disengage him from his 'I must please my father and uphold the family honor' mode. That guy had a prove yourself complex, no doubt about it. But sometimes it wasn't his fault, like right now. I'm willing to bet my favorite bean bag chair, the one that looked like an angry bird and that when you sat in it, it practically ate your butt (I had a camera set up in my game room simply to record the many ways people tried to get out of that thing), that Nathaniel not being her wasn't his doing. Especially considering that the family's two main cars were missing.

I'm coming to get you. Stay put this time!

I typed out the second message and hit send. The old guy next to me was still ranting about my hooliganess. I'll admit, the dreds do project a certain image. But common guy, I'm waring a button down that was probably more expensive than your entire weeks' worth of medication.

I knew that Nathaniel was at the library and I knew that Sinclair, the butler from pompous jerks ville, would be there to keep an eye on him. That man hated my guts, all because of that one time I turned his hair green…and maybe also that time I covered the foyer in jell-o, it could also be something to do with the lobster dinner I ruined. How was I supposed to know those things didn't come pre-killed. Point is Sinclair hated me, and if he caught sight of me well, busting Nathaniel out might be the least of my worries.

It's a good thing that blondies father still had no idea about my existence because being able to pull the wool over Sinclair's eyes was one of the few things Natty and I still held against the butler. He couldn't stand the fact that two teenage boys had outwitted him so many times and he would never admit the fact to his illustrious master.

"Hoodlums have no place here," the old man was still raving, only now it sounded like he was on some practiced speech, "they completely ruin the sincerity of this beautiful neighborhood, the lot of you, playing your rackety music, and driving your vehicles at ridiculous speeds, and putting graffiti everywhere, and- "I tuned the old timer out, focusing back on my phone.

There were still no responses, and honestly that bugged me a little. It didn't worry me, I wasn't quite at that stage yet, just bugged. Normal behavior for Natty when I was being intentionally annoying was a quick stop texting me, or Mica No, or his favorite, shut up.

I was about to get back in my jeep when the bus pulled up, blocking my vehicle in. I waited another moment, wishing the bus would hurry up so that I could get away from the grouch yelling at me.

But when the buses only passenger for this stop came into view all thoughts of leaving were suddenly erased from my mind.

She was a just below average sized girl about my age, thin hourglass figure, and a short haircut. It wasn't a love at first sight moment or anything, far from it, it wasn't even my male teenage hormones going 'hot girl, must stare!', even if she was kind of cute. No, the thing that caught my eye was the bright colorful way she was dressed, and the fact that her fairy wings got caught in the bus door as it shut.

She began scrabbling with the wire fabric cellophane mesh constructions and the door, and just barely managed to dislodge herself before the bus pulled away. She huffed a glare at the retreating vehicle, fixed her tiara, and stomped her way onto the curb. I stared at her and didn't bother to cover it up. The old man next to me suddenly stopped in his ranting and stared at her too.

She came to the curb right next to us, noticed our starring and crossed her arms. "What?" she asked challengingly.

"That's what I was thinking," I said.

Before she could say anything back the old man threw up his hands and yelled, "Hooligans! Muddying up our oasis of culture and refinement. This neighborhood is for upstanding citizens! You young lady and your silly new age gang dress nonsense are not welcome here. I am telling you this one time to leave before I call the authorities."

I raised an eyebrow at the old man then looked back to the girl who was in turn looking at the man like he was an escapee from the loony farm.

"You part of a gang?" I asked her, genuinely curious to see what she thought of such an accusation.

She snorted, "Yeah, we're called the sugar plum fairies and our gang symbol is making little halos over our heads. Better watch out, I'm packing glitter."

Oh I liked her.

The old man huffed, "what is today's youth coming to," he moaned. Hey I was wonder when he was gonna use that line. "You young man," he pointed at me, "can just take your girlfriend and leave!"

"Woah woah," I said, "she's not my girlfriend."

"I've never met this guy before," the girl said.

The old man turned and began walking away, presumably back towards his house, "I'm calling the neighborhood watch!" he shouted at us. Figures the guy didn't have a cell phone on him, probably was on his way to use the old rotary style phone he kept in his living room.

Whatever, I was just about to leave anyways.

The girl still in front of me huffed. "Great," she mumbled, before lifting up her brightly colored outer skirt. There were several layers underneath it designed to make it all fluff out so I couldn't see anything promiscuous, even so I couldn't help the jab that came out of my mouth.

"You trying to flash me now? People really will think you're my girlfriend."

She rolled her eyes, "Sorry, you're not that cute. This is just were I keep my arsenal of stickers."

I thought she was joking, still playing along with the gang accusation, but no she actually pulled a handful of stickers out from a pocket that was sewn onto the underside of her skirt.

I laughed. I didn't know who this girl was but damn if she wasn't interesting. She raised an eyebrow at me, but otherwise ignored me in favor of shuffling through her stickers. When she found the one she was looking for she squinted at the back of it before asking me, "You wouldn't happen to know where, one five thirty three South Langaster way is would you?"

She just got even more interesting.

I nodded and threw a thumb over my shoulder, pointing at the big house that had brought me to this holy oasis of a neighborhood as well.

The girl's eyes widened as she got a good look at the house beyond the gate. Nathaniel's family had a pretty decent front drive, but you could still easily see the second and third floors over the gate. There was technically a fourth floor but that was mostly just the tower.

"There a reason you're looking for the Rozen house?" I asked, drawing the girl out of her gob smacked stupor.

She looked at me, then back at the house, then back at me. "That's not a house!" she finally said, "That's a fricken mansion, there's a parapet!" She pointed at the wrap around walkway that covered most of the east side of the building and ran from the gardens to the third floor of the tower. "Look at that thing, its huge! There's got to be a foyer, and a sitting room, and a freaking library, they've probably got a porch that they call a veranda! I bet you there's even a damn feast hall somewhere in there."

"Its…not a castle," I said. I'd personally never even thought about the size of Nathaniel's house, especially considering the fact that I did live in a castle. A small one, but, still.

"There is a tower!" the girl said, "with a balcony!"

"That's just Ambers room," I said.

"Are you serious!" the girl said indignantly, then she huffed and threw her arms up, "Oh that just figures. Of course pom-pom princess sleeps in a fricken tower. Gods I've gotta start calling her something else, she actually is a princess! Probably sees that moniker as a compliment."

"I take it you're not here to see Amber then?"

"What?" the girl said, as if suddenly remembering I was there, "Oh, um, no, no I am not. I…guess you know the family?"

I nodded.

"Okay, well I'm looking for Nathaniel…he's Ambers older brother."

I felt a smile creeping onto my face. Now why would Natty be having a cute girl dressed like a fairy looking for him? This just got even more interesting. "Yeah I know him," I said, "he's actually the reason I'm here too, but he's not home."

The girls' shoulders slumped and she crossed her arms, glaring at the sidewalk. "Great" she mumbled again, "figures really."

"Why do you need him?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, um no reason!" she quickly said.

I just smiled again. "Right, well I'm on my way to go get him," I said pointing at my jeep. "But if you've got 'no reason' to see him then I won't bother offering a lift."

She rolled her eyes, "Sure I'll just get into the car of the dreadlock wierdo I've never met before."

"Says the girl dressed like something out Neverland."

There's a brief standoff of us glaring at each other.

She huffed, "Okay, touché," she looked at me consideringly for another few seconds before asking, "What's your name?"

"Michael Hailway, people call me Mica. You can look me up on your phone. I guarantee google will prove my existence." It would, I had a Wikipedia page and everything. Sometimes I edited it with inane crap just to see if there'd be any funny media reactions. "And you?" I asked her.

"Malory…Jones. I don't, think google knows me."

I shrugged, "That's cool. Not everyone gets to be of the privileged few constantly stalked by internet search engines. Trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to-" something suddenly clicked in my head, "wait, did you say Malory?! Oh my gods, your Nathaniel's Malory!

The girls eyes suddenly widened and she began spluttering like some owl having a stroke, "I'm Nathaniel's what!?" she gasped.

Oh, wait, that did not come out the way I meant it.

"No, uh, I meant you're that girl that he's always talking about."

"He always?!" she squeaked. She legitimately just squeaked.

"…I'm making this worse aren't I? I meant, you two are like your schools top students right? And you butt heads over that, he's told me about you. Were friends, so when he vents I listen."

"Oh…well, then yes. Yes I am that Malory…he vents about me?"

"In great detail. It's actually kind of annoying sometimes." She didn't seem to know what to say as she looked to the pavement and began unconsciously twiddling her fingers. As I looked at her, an idea started to form in my head.

"So, wait, if you are that Malory, than you're another braniac like Natty?" I asked.

She quirked an eyebrow, "Natty?"

I smirked, "told you we were friends."

"He hates it that name doesn't he?"

"Oh you have no idea"

The jab at Nathaniel got a small smile out of her, and it made her stop fidgeting.

"Um, to answer your question, yeah I guess I'm pretty smart," she said, shrugging.

I debated briefly on what I was about to ask, on one end it could really piss Nathaniel off, but on the other hand I'm starting to think I can't bust the blonde out alone. Also I'm pretty sure that having these two 'geniuses' in a room together would be extremely funny. "I need your help" I said.

She raised an eyebrow, "With?"

"Busting Nathaniel out of the library."

"…The library?"

"Yes."

"The one where they keep all the books? That library. "

"Yes that library."

"And Nathaniel is trapped in the Library because…?"

"Short version; because his dads and ass. Slightly more complicated version; because the family butler is most likely there acting as Nattys jailer and warden. The guy hates me and this won't be the first time I've helped Nathaniel escape right out from under him. And Sinclair is also kind of an ass."

"…Okay, two things, they actually have legit butler, and the guy's name is Sinclair? That can't be his real name?"

I shrugged, "To be honest, I'm not even sure if he's a real butler. All he ever seems to do is follow Nathaniel's dad, around and do whatever the guy says."

"That…sounds slightly creepy."

"Yeah well Sinclair is kinda creepy, so…"

Malory looked at the pavement and rubbed her arm for a moment. "So…Nathaniels dad is…kind of strict?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh gods yes!" I said, throwing my head back, "he has a stick shoved so far up his ass I'm amazed it's not poking his eyes out!"

Malory stood there for another second, obviously thinking something over, "I still don't know you," she finally said.

I shrugged, "Well you do know Nathaniel, and I'm his best friend, so what does that tell you about me?"

"…Okay fine let's go."

"Awesome," I grinned, "Oh one more thing, I'm banned from the library so you're gonna have to go in alone at first."

"Again, when you say 'library' you know that that means the place where they house books right?"


I loved library's.

Just the idea of them always gave me a sense of hope for humanity. We as a species valued knowledge and learning so much that we had built an entire system dedicated to that one goal.

It also helped my mood that Sinclair had gotten bored of just staring at me and he'd left me alone to go look at magazines or something.

I was sitting at a table on the second floor, right next to the railings. I loved this spot because it was above the bottom floor, where most of the hustle and bustle took place, and because it was where there was the best natural lighting. The building was three stories tall, with a glass dome making up the ceiling of the buildings center. The second and third floors had giant circular cutouts with the same diameter of the dome, allowing natural light to filter down all the way to another glass circle on the bottom floor, this one made to allow people to see the underground pool that fed the giant water fountain outside.

The fountain was right in the middle of the city's cultural mall. All the buildings where made in a giant circle around it, and only foot traffic was aloud for the whole area. There was a live theater next to the library, and a park across from it. Out front of the art gallery where they kept these huge glass sculptures was one of the best places in the world to have an ice cream if you asked me. Which was easy to do, because one of the shops here was this amazing old fashioned candy parlor. Even my mother, who was forever dieting, couldn't say no to their licorice.

I looked up from my notes for a moment, taking in the familiar setting and feeling content for the first time all weekend. Despite it being late autumn, it was a nice day, and the library staff had opened a couple of windows allowing the faint smell of cinnamon from the next door bakery to hang in the air. There was the sound of a constant quiet bustle of activity coming from the floor below me. People coming in and out, checking out books, using the computers. I could see the ancient librarian Miss Felstien, oh couldn't really see anymore, still somehow managing to do story time over in the kids section. Harvey, head of the library's archives, went bustling by, frantic as always and carrying a huge armload of papers. There was an older couple sitting in some of the lounge chairs drinking out of steaming mugs and playing a game of checkers. One of the library aids was fixing a knocked over sign that said there was a puppet show in room b. Malory, in a colorful outfit, was wandering around some of the aisles and looking lost.

I should pretend I didn't see that.

It would really be in my best interests to pretend that I didn't see anything.

I should just stay here, keep studying, and carry on like nothing was happening. It would be the best way to avoid any impending chaos.

It would really really be for the best.

Dammit.

I got up and headed for the staircase.

By the time I found her I immediately knew that my earlier instincts where completely accurate. I also knew that there was no way I could just turn around and pretend that I'd never seen her now. Because it wasn't just Malory in front of me, it was Malory standing on her toes on top of a table, one of her arms half way out a window, and the other helping a scrambling Mica in through said window.

Neither one of them had seen me, so they both jumped in surprise when I said,

"What on earth you two doing?"

I might have reveled a little bit in Malory's surprised squeak and Micas squawk. Malory immediately spun around and Mica, without her assistance, lost his balance and fell head first onto the carpeted floor with a thump.

There were so many questions to ask I wasn't sure where to even begin. Since when did these two know each other? Why isn't Mica using the front doors like a sane person? What the hell is Malory waring and what happened to the back of her shirt, it's got several rips in it. Should I be worried about that? And the main question of all, what where they doing here?!

Mica scrambled to his feet, grabbed the collar of my shirt in both hands, yanked me forward and said, "You're coming to the party dammit!"

Calmly, I grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands off of me. Mica let me, but he didn't back down, nor did he loose the determined look in his eyes.

Malory was crawling off the table she'd be on, and seriously what was she waring? "Um, guys?" she said.

I held up a hand towards her, "One sec" I said, I needed to deal with the dreaded idiot in front of me first, "Mica, I appreciate whatever favor it is you think you're doing for me here, but seriously I need to study."

Mica scoffed, "Why because of her?" he threw a thumb over his shoulder at Malory.

Who had nearly walked over to us, "Uh, guys," she said.

"Hold on," Mica said, "Natty, this is more than just a favor. You have been a colossal stress ball lately and honestly it's starting to freak me out."

"Mica I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that I am fine."

"No see that right there! You only use your posh proper speaking talk with me when you're stressed out! You know that I don't give a shit about that stuff, and I know that deep down neither do you!"

"Guys!" Malory said, putting herself right in between us to get our attention.

"What?!" we said at the same time.

Malory just pointed up at the second floor.

We both whipped our heads around, and standing right where I'd been studying was Sinclair, both his giant meaty hands fisted on the railings, and his livid black eyes scanning the bottom floor.

Malory started talking, "Is that the butler guy-woah!"

Mica and I each wrapped an arm around her and yanked her to the floor, effectively hiding all three of us behind a bookcase just as Sinclair's eyes came our way.

We all laid on our bellies side by side for a few seconds, as if speaking would somehow alert Sinclair to our location.

"Dammit Mica!" I hissed, "Now he knows I stopped studying."

"Hey," Mica bit back, "I hadn't started kidnapping you yet. You got yourself down here all on your own." He arched his back enough to peek at Sinclair over the shelves. "Shit, he's saying something into a walkie-talkie." Which meant that Sinclair had most likely already warned the library's security guards to be on the lookout for me. "Look," Mica said, coming back down, "you know how much Sinclair can't stand it when you and I pull a fast one on him," he said. "If you stay he bitches to your dad about how you took a break, if we leave, he keeps his mouth shut because he knows you'll do the same and you both stay out of trouble."

I stared at Mica hard for a few seconds, then I looked down to the girl that was still nestled between us. She tilted her head back as best she could to look up at me. I sighed, "What are you doing here?", because really, what was Malory doing here?!

Somehow she shrugged despite the tiny space she had to move, "Mica said you needed help."

I…was not sure what to do with that information.

I snuck a glance up at Sinclair myself, his head was still shifting side to side but he was moving away from the railing and towards the staircase.

"Please tell me you two at least have a plan," I said.

"Umm-" Mica said.

"Dammit Mica."

"Oh leave me alone, it's my birthday. And besides," he poked Malory on top of the head, "that's what I brought her for. I'm sure you two geniuses can figure this out."

I looked again at Malory, "Do you have a plan?"

"Not a one," she said.

"Great. Alright for starters lets at least-"

"HEY! You three!"

We all snapped our eyes forward to the end of the aisle where a security guard was coming straight towards us, his walkie-talkie already raised to his mouth.

"Run!" Mica said, jumping up.

Malory and I did the same, and the three of us turned from the guard, and immediately tried to lose him amongst the many books and shelves. This was definitely not how I'd envisioned my Saturday going, running around the library, hiding from my family's butler, with my insane best friend, and the annoying girl from school who was really starting confuse me.

...And seriously what was she waring?


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An: Again, I am soooo sorry for the obnoxiously long update. It doesn't help that I don't think this chapter is as entertaining as some of the others. It's mostly to introduce some story background, a bit of world building, and to set up for the next chapter, which I promise, will include the general hilarity you have all come to associate with Malory and Nathaniel being stuck together.

Anyways something I did want to bring up: in response to something I said last chapter a few people have mentioned that their schools labs where on second floors…you people live in a strange strange land.

Kidding.

Basically when I was in high school my chem teacher once explained to us how gas lines where a lot safer underground, cause you know if they break: bomb. But when I think about it I suppose not everyone is lucky enough to live in an earthquake hazard zone, where pipes freeze and often break every winter and where fall is filled with windstorms that howl and moan knocking down powerlines, and every summer we have at least two major fire warnings…spring is pretty good though. There was also that one time the pizza place did have a gas leak and… blew up…taking the barber shop and the dance studio with it…good news is it was at like four in the morning so nobody even got hurt. I live in magical place.

But more to the point with folks commenting on my brief spiel about high school architecture: you people read my authors notes?! Just…wow. I mean, this fanfic is pretty much an attempt to organize my rambling off the wall thought pattern into a coercive narrative, but in the authors notes I don't hold back. All the mind numbing nonsense that goes on in my head is written down simply because: meh why not, nobody's going to read this anyways. But you do! Personally when I read a fanfiction I only bother with the author's notes if it's a story I really really like. So…thankyou

…This does not mean the authors notes are going to start making any more sense. They're still just my ramblings, all I'm saying is I appreciate the efforts made to slog through them.

Oh btw, I know at the beginning of this story I mentioned that there would be some swearing, and that's definitely already happened. But I think there was a bit more in this chapter because of Mica. Was it too much? Honestly its just the way I envision him talking. In my head he's a teenage boy, with dreadlocks, who's fairly laid back, and he just doesn't care at all what other people think about him or what comes out of his mouth. And honestly I might be doing a Castiel story later (still debating on this) and I really can't see that red headed goofball going more than twenty minutes without some expletive coming out of his mouth. I know I could just use the 'S#*$%' method, but honestly I really hate that as, at least for me, it always takes me out of the story momentarily. Its like this little real world reminder, that oh yeah I'm reading something, and that's just not what you want to have happen when your engrossed in a story.

But if anyone's feeling uncomfortable with the level of cussing let me know. I can try to cut back on it. But I'll tell you this now, it's not going to go completely away. I haven't done anything that could be considered PG13 inappropriate yet, but that's based on the technical definition of what is allowed within PG13. Do you guys think I should knock this up to an M rating? I don't want to give the impression that there's gonna be like a bedroom scene or overly graphic violence, because there's not. But I definitely write this with the intent for my readers to have a bit of a mature outlook on the world. And by 'mature' I don't mean that you know where babies come from, I mean like, you understand that life can really beat the hell out of you sometimes, and that it does that to everyone. People are imperfect, and sometimes where not trying our best to be a better person. Sometimes we give up. Sometimes we fail. Part of being an adult is figuring that out, and figuring out how to get past those low points in life.

I don't know, I'm sick, and I think I'm rambling.

Anyways! Next chapter prepare for a giant game of Pac-man inside the library as the three stooges avoid Sinclair and the security guards, while they attempt to escape the library. We're going mission impossible on this guys!

As always, please have a magnificent day!