Hey Dudes!!

Its me again, this time with chapter 3.

Now, I understand that this whole re-writing and buffing process is taking like, a REALLY long time, so I'd like to thank everyone that's stuck with this story when I had writer's block, which sometimes got so bad that I needed Ching to help me get started. (Thanks Ching! By the way, chapter 19 is like, all hers. I just edited. You will see!!)

And of course, I'd like to thank Angela, who was with me throughout this whole thing. This story is OURS, hunny, and it's totally awesome cause of all your great ideas.

And lastly, to all the reviews, THANK YOU SO MUCH, you don't know how far your support has gotten me. Sniff...sniff...(Jessie does a little Ms. America bow, tiara falls over, "Oops." heh heh...)

So yeah, hope you're not freaked out. I am a bit emotional.

On with the story...

Disclaimer: Now, would you really want to sue me after that speech?


Chapter three: Sweet Misery

By the end of school, I was totally exhausted. Not from schoolwork, but more from the emotional strain of seeing Jesse again. Who does that guy think he is? Does he actually think that he can just come waltzing in my world again? Calling me querida again, as if nothing had happened?

Please, Jesse, I am not that easy.

My mind was still rambling when Paul breezed by me.

"Hey Suze, my car is this way," said Paul, pointing left of the parking lot and doing one of his classic eye rolls.

I said, "Oh, right," and followed in his direction. God, I can't even keep track of direction.

I got into Paul's BMW silently, closing the car door behind me, and buckling my seatbelt. Okay, before I go any further: I know what you're thinking. Any you could not be more wrong. Suze Simon, get into the car with the psycho who had tried to off her boyfriend? What am I doing?

Well, I'll tell you, it's not like that. I mean, my reasons are completely platonic. I love Jesse and always will, even after what had happened today.

You see, ever since the disaster at Brad's party, Paul has been giving me shifting lessons. And I must admit, Paul is pretty helpful in this shifting business. Amazingly true to his promise, Paul also hasn't been giving me any sexual advances. So really, it was ok. And besides, I was still doing this for Jesse.

Stupid Jesse who was too stupid to realize we were freaking perfect for each other, but instead hung out with that stupid cat. Or lucky, cat, I should say.

-----

By the time we reached Paul's house, I had already zoned out. I got out of the car wordlessly, and followed him into the house like some kind of limp puppet. Paul held his lessons at his living room, thank God. I'm not going anywhere near his bedroom after the 'incident.' You know what I'm talking about.

But I must admit, when it comes to shifting, Paul sure knows his stuff. He's been teaching me what he calls the 'basics,' the ability to materialize and dematerialize—just like ghosts—we've even explored some witchcraft; how to make potions, and conjuring of spells. You know, like on Charmed. (A/n: I love that show! But it's not on the WB anymore!)

"What we are going to work on today are your killer weak materializing powers," Paul said. "I mean, really Suze, I've seen Jack do better."

"Gee, thanks Paul, for the killer vote of confidence." I retorted. But, he was right. As much as I hate to admit it, my powers to materialize and dematerialize are pretty weak. I've been only able to utilize these powers within the perimeter of Paul's house. Actually, within the perimeter of the bottom floor, I can't even go upstairs yet. Not that I want to, if you know what I mean.

Which you wouldn't, because you're normal. Joy.

"Okay," Paul said, he waved a piece of red paper in front of me, backing up into the hallway. "Can you hear me?"

I nodded.

"Can you see me?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, Paul, I can see you."

He stepped out of my view. "Can you hear me now?"

"Yes!" I was tired and cranky, meaning: my bitch quotient was on high.

"Can you hear me now?"

"Paul!" I snapped, "This is not a wireless commercial!"

He chuckled. "Oh, sorry." He stepped back into my view waving the paper wildly. "Okay, dematerialize past this paper."

I stood there, my hands on my hips. "Paul, I'm not a bull."

"Right." He said, smirking. "You're a hot chick."

I dematerialized next to him and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow!"

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"No, Suze…concentrate."

"I am," I said through gritted teeth. "It just won't freaking work!!"

"It would if you'd just concentrate…" he muttered, more to himself, but I heard him anyway.

"Fine," I said, "let's try this again."

------

Throughout the two hours of Paul's coaching, I hadn't improved much. This I blamed on Jesse. I'd been thinking about him throughout the entire lesson, dazing off at times and staring into space. I wondered what he was doing right then. Where was he? Did he miss me?

So I was pretty silent. You know, other than the yelling. Even Paul noticed.

"Suze, you okay?" Paul asked, sounding a little worried.

"Yeah," I replied. Thinking of a lie with lighting fast speed, I said, "It's just that I have this killer headache." I held my hand to my forehead for effect.

After that comment, Paul actually got concerned about me. And when I suggested going home, he didn't object.

I got out of the car really exhausted. Waving goodbye to Paul, I stomped up the steps to my front door. I ran into the kitchen to grab a quick snack, and clonked up the stairs, bursting into my room and dropping all my stuff, planning to collapse on the bed.

Only I couldn't.

Because it was already occupied with two ghosts, making out.


Now, if you've read this before, you already know what happens. I just wanted to add more shifting stuff in the story, since dematerialising will be a small issue in chapter 19.

Here's a preview for Chapter 4, for all those who are interested. It's called "Fireworks." For obvious reasons.

Well, I wasn't going to just stand there and let myself get played. I walked right up to Jesse and his amore, and pulled the plug.

I ended it, right then and there.

Game over.

Ummm...I like reviews. Just a thought. Something you should know.