I own nothing, to my eternal disappointment.

Chapter 5: Keep it Together

Swallowing a bite of her taco, Anna smiled inwardly. "Ramona, you remember that guy I was telling you about? The quote-unquote 'jerky loser'?"

Ramona's head shot up. Anna hadn't mentioned him since Jamba Juice. "Yeah?"

"He apologized yesterday."

"Really? That's awesome!"

"But he also wants to be just friends," she added.

Ramona's eyebrow raises. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Good. It definitely should be, anyway. The three of us - me, him, the other girl - being just friends is what we need. I'm sick of triangles." Anna smiled again.

"Yeah, well, I hate geometry too." It may not be the greatest joke in the world, but whatever.

"So what's up with you?" Anna took another bite.

"Not much. As usual. My life is completely and totally drama-free. But I am painting my room this weekend."

"Need help?"

Ramona looked at her, surprised. "Um, yeah, sure. Can you come Saturday? Maybe around eleven? We can't start any earlier than that because I'll still be sleeping."

Anna laughed. "Yeah, me too. Eleven's good."

"Okay, so my address is..."

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Ramona yawned and took out her homework from the night before. This morning around midnight she'd remembered that she had never actually finished their French work. In reality, they'd almost gotten to page 74. She'd spent a good half an hour working on the last seven pages, loyal dictionary at her side.

Mademoiselle Foncé, hearing the yawn, frowned at her new student. Ramona, catching this, straightened up. Look wide-awake and eager for class to begin. Wide-awake and eager. Mademoiselle, turning her attention to the class, cleared her throat. "Bonjour."

Ramona slouched back a little. "I have un surprise for vous, today," Mademoiselle began, smiling smugly. She noted that the class looked wary. Smiling smugly had that effect, especially coming from her. The smile widened.

"Classe, we are starting a new... PROJET!" Several students groaned, rolling their eyes. "Afraid of what this may mean?" Pause. "Well, you should be."

Oh no. Ohhh, no.

"This will be un projet in paires. The mêmes paires as yesterday. You and your partner are to write a four-to-five-page report about some aspect of France. For example, traditions or customs, Paris, Nice, the marketplace, music, movies, et cetera." Well, that wasn't so terrible. "The paper must have a rough draft, a second draft, and a final draft.

"Also you must put together an impressionant, clear and educational visual presentation to teach the class about your subject. And this is all due in two weeks. Deux semaines from today - Friday after next."

Ramona's jaw dropped a few inches. Was this the typical Harbor project? This was crazy! Totally insane. This was the type of project that she would be assigned as a final at her old school. Wow.

Seth was loping towards her. Why was Seth coming over? Oh, right. The same partners. She'd been focusing so much on the project itself that her brain hadn't registered.

Blinking, she forced herself to look awake. "Hey."

"Tired? Late night doing who knows what?" Seth tried waggling his eyebrows, Jack Black-style. Well, that worked.



"Oh yeah. You know, things to do, Craig Kilborn to watch."

He grinned. "No Daily Show, but Kilborn's not bad. There may be hope for you yet." Pause. "Are you busy today? We could work on the project after school. My place," he added, winking cheesily. Ramona stifled a snort. Don't snort. Do not ever snort in public.



"Okay."

"Ridonkulous. Meet me by the columns-" his eyes flickered in amusement "-by the English wing. You know. The column."

Ramona gave a thumbs up.

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Seth, leaning against a pillar, was wondering just what he was doing. Waiting for my partner is what I'm doing, he told himself. Is inviting another girl over such a good idea, considering recent events? his brain questioned.

Ramona waved. Seth lifted up an arm distractedly. It's fine. We're paired up for a project; it's not like I'm going to hit on her.

Are you sure?



The thought startled Seth. What? What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I am. I'm taking a break from women. My relationship with women is staying on a purely-friends basis.



Seth opened his eyes to find Ramona standing in front of him. "Hi," he said, surprised.

"What's with your eyes closed?" A smile spread across her face. "Tired?"

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Seth shut the bedroom door and smiled nervously. It seemed he was always nervous lately. Girls had that effect on him. The only time he hadn't been nervous recently was in detention with Randolph, and that was because he was pissed.

"You like indie rock?" Ramona was studying the posters splashed on the walls. "That's cool. Me too." She reconsidered that last statement. "Well, obviously," she added, gesturing to her Guster tee. Seth nodded.

"I'm more into the emo aspect of it, though. Death Cab, Bright Eyes, Ben Folds."

"Death Cab?"

Seth's head swiveled to face her. "Death Cab for Cutie? Only the absolute best band that no one's heard of? Oh God. You've never heard of them either. That's it, we're listening to Transatlanticism. And don't you dare insult Death Cab or I'll have to bring the smackdown."

"Like you could," she threw back.

Seth, fiddling with the CD player, looked wounded. "I'll have you know that underneath this scrawny geeky exterior, I'm packing some killer biceps."

"Sure." The music began playing, a mellow mixture of drums and acoustic. 'So this is the New Year...'

"So." Seth plopped into his computer chair, facing Ramona. "Any ideas for potential topics?"

"I was thinking holidays," she answered. "Like maybe Christmas?"

"Chrismukkah would be great!" he exclaimed.

"Chrismukkah?"

"Oh, right." He suddenly looked businesslike. "See, my darling mother is Queen of the Wasps, whereas my pops is a New York Jew in need of a good eyebrow wax. They weren't sure of how to handle it so I took the metaphorical reins. And therefore, the greatest holiday in the history of the world was born - Chrismukkah!"

"Christmas and Hanukkah," Ramona said, a sly expression on her face. "Excellent plan. So, what, you celebrate nine days of food and presents? Nice deal."

"Exactamundo."

"I feel disappointed that I'm not Jewish."

"Oh, there's room for everyone at the Chrismukkah hearth. Dip a toe in the Chrismukkah pool!" Ramona laughed.

"Somehow I think I might feel a mite poserish."

"Poserism. HA. Look at Ryan. He's not Jewish, but he'll be celebrating Chrismukkah soon enough. I plan to convert him. And you, too. Everyone. I'll convert the world."

"Oh, so that's your plan for world domination. I should've guessed."

"Yes, exactly. What's yours? You seem like someone with a plan."

She considered. "I don't really have one. Maybe finish my novel and move people's way of thinking with my books. I don't know. Maybe I won't."

"I get it. I mean, we live, we die, right?" He shrugged.

Ramona stared at him. The conversation had become so serious all of a sudden. Far from his joking persona, Seth now seemed kind of morbid. "That's a real optimistic way of looking at things," she said dryly. She had a vision of herself trying to stay afloat in the Atlantic, like Rose at the end of Titanic.

"It is if you're religious," he replied.

She blinked, completely thrown. She knew he was Jewish - obviously, his name was Cohen - but hadn't realized he was so a part of it. God, I hope I didn't offend him about Chrismukkah. Although, he didn't seem it. But still. He was still waiting for a response. "I guess," she answered. "If you're religious, then death is just another life, right?"

"Right." There was an awkward silence. Oh, great. Why did I have to open my stupid mouth? Tousling his hair, he tried to think of something to say.

"Who's winning now, me or my hair?" he managed finally.

She grinned; back to normal. "Unfortunately, not you."

"Damn," he swore, sighing melodramatically. "I never win."

Suddenly her lips were on his. What am I doing? Ramona screamed at herself. Good question. What was she doing, kissing some guy she'd known for a week? But apparently, it wasn't terrible, because he began to reciprocate. Well, now I know I'm not completely talentless in the boy department. Her thoughts evaporated, focusing solely on the moment. This was a good decision after all.

Seth pulled away, looking shamefaced. "I - I can't," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Ramona forced an oh-no-big-deal-don't-worry-about-it smile. "No prob. It's okay. We should probably get working on the project anyway, since I have to be home by six." As Seth turned towards the computer screen, though, she couldn't help noticing his flushed cheeks. She figured they were about as red as her own.

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Anna waited outside the house patiently. Maybe I should try the doorbell again, she thought, reaching for it.

The door opened, a messy-haired and pajama'ed Ramona standing in the doorway. "Hi. Come on in." Anna stepped inside as Ramona shut the door. "I figured I'd leave my pjs on, since we're painting," she explained.

Anna held up a plastic supermarket bag. "Clothes for after," she smiled. Anna, in a plain oversized T-shirt and holey jeans, looked far different from her normal self. It was weird. She was used to seeing Anna in full makeup and edgy wardrobe, a colorful punkish pixie. Now she just looked ordinary.

"Well, this is my room," Ramona said, pushing open the door. Anna placed the plastic bag just outside the entrance, to keep it paint-free, and marched in. The room was a good size. Not compared to some, but it was close.

"Huge, right?" Ramona asked.

"Believe it or not, this is just average for an Newport room," Anna replied, turning to face her.

Her eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding."

"So it's just you and your cousin here?" Lucky.

"Yeah. My parents are kind of MIA, like I said." Ramona tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. She'd told Anna she was an army brat, and that her parents had decided to let her stay with Mayne instead of constantly moving. It was the line she always used. "So, should two gallons be enough? I don't know much about painting."

"Enough? Uh, you might have too much," Anna said, looking bemused. "Two gallons.... I can't believe you."

They cracked open the paint jars and began to cover the white walls a bright cerulean blue, getting stained in the process. After two hours and half the room was done, Ramona had blue splotches in her hair, on her face, and right in the middle of her tank top. Anna wasn't much better.

"So guess what?" Ramona prompted, sliding a fresh pad onto the roller.

"What? Wait, you were bitten by a radioactive spider yesterday when sweeping the kitchen and now you have superpowers. Am I right?"

She made a face. "Sadly, no. But I did get assigned a huge French project," she added, pretending to sniffle.

"Really? How very fun." Anna rolled her eyes.

"I know.... But we have partners, and I'm paired with this really nice guy. So we were over his house yesterday hanging out and working on the project."

"Huh." Anna was studying her intently.

"What?" She was blushing now. "What?"

Anna grinned slyly. "The guy. You like him, huh? I can tell. You need to work to your acting skills, Ramona."

Ramona gave up. "Damn you."

"Well, tell me what happened."

"Okay, um... you know..."

The grin grew massively bigger. "You kissed, didn't you?"

Ramona's face went from pink to crimson. "You did! I know these things, Ramona. You can't try to hide them. I'm just perceptive. Now, who is he? Maybe I know him."

Her friend broke into a matching grin, the color fading from her cheeks. "He's tall, kinda lanky..." A giggle. "His hair's like - well, his hair's completely crazy, but it's so cute!"

An image of Seth materialized in Anna's mind. Oh no. God, no. Please let it not be Seth. It can't be Seth.



Ramona sighed, adding, "His name's Seth Cohen - you know him?"

For some odd reason, her own smile felt strained to Anna. "Yeah, actually I do. He's a great guy. That's great!" She watched Ramona's smile split wide as she felt a bubble pop in her chest. Slowly, she turned back towards the wall and hastily began to paint.

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Seth closed his locker to see an abnormally stoic Anna. "Uh, hey," he said, scrunching his eyebrows. "What's up?"

Anna wasn't sure why she was there; after all, they were just friends now, weren't they? No, her brain replied. You never were just friends, were you? Maybe at the Cotillion rehearsal you were. But since then you've been straddling the border between friends and more, and you're not going to be friends with benefits. "Hey," she said. "Listen, uh..." Great. How was she supposed to put this? "We're friends, right?"

Seth nodded, clearly confused of where this was heading. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

"Well, maybe I was wrong, but when you wanted all of us to just be friends..." Anna trailed off, embarrassed. What happened to her confident straightforward persona? Just when she needed it, it disappears. She looked up, straight into his eyes. "I thought you were going to lay off girls for a while."

Seth's mouth opened and closed, fish-like. Like a fish on a hook. How did she know? How would she know? Unless... no. That wasn't possible. It's way too soap opera-ish for Ramona and Anna to be friends. Beyond the realm of possibility. No way.

Anna was still there, waiting for a response, and yet he remained speechless. Resignedly, she turned from him and stepped away. "Anna," he called. The girl just kept walking, not hearing.
"I thought we could be friends," he added quietly. "I promised I wouldn't kiss you ever again..."