A/N: Loyal reviewers: I am dying of a cold, which makes my attention span very minimal, which is why it's taken me so long to write this chapter. But here it is. Remember to review! :o)

Go EAGLES!

- - - - - - - - -

Chapter 20

Plans Are Made and Grow

I have to think about all of this.

It's the day after Jen and I had those pivotal epiphanies, and it's been weird, especially lunch. We were all there—Christian, Chase, Jen, West, Taylor and I. First it was just me and Christian, so we were sitting across form each other. Then West and Taylor showed up and sat beside Christian and me respectively. When Jen showed up she took the seat on Christian other side. And last Chase, who landed by me.

Chase started at me immediately, propping his elbow on my shoulder and forking a bite of my rice and vegetables.

I glared at him and he said, "Hey, I'd say at this point what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine, babe."

"I am not an arm rest," I said.

"Prove it," Chase grinned. Then he asked me suggestively. "So when are we going to have a racquetball rematch, Becka? That was a good time." He smirked at me.

I scowled again. I looked at Jen. She didn't seem to be noticing all of this. I looked at Christian. He didn't seem to be caring.

So I went with it. I stopped worrying about Chase and Jen and Christian and everybody and I just had fun with it. And strangely that worked out. My pervasive flirting with Chase didn't seem to bother Jen or Christian, which weirded me out. Because I thought it might get to Jen at least. I mean, with her liking Chase, you'd think it would.

After that, I was slightly subdued, although only Christian seemed to notice. He kept throwing me these worried glances whenever the table's rowdy conversation allowed it. I kept avoiding eye contact.

On second thought, maybe I don't want to think about all of that right now. No, definitely not. I pick up the phone.

Christian answers.

"I need help with chemistry," I lie.

"I'm doing calculus with West," he says. "Can't someone else help you? Who's your lab partner?"

"Luke Emerson or something."

"Oh Luke. I know him. Nice guy. Why don't you give him a call?" Christian sounds extremely distracted. I switch tactics.

"Because I don't really need help with chemistry, but I figured if I said that you might get your butt over here quicker."

Silence on the other end.

"I need my best friend," I prod. Almost whining.

"Not fair," Christian protests. "You're guilt tripping me when I've got calculus to do."

"Are you at West's?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Stay there. I've got a better idea." I hang up the phone and grab my car keys. Ten minutes later I'm walking in West's door. He and Christian are on the floor with their books and a plethora of scrap papers spread out in front of them. Taylor is on the couch behind them, reading a book.

"What is this?" I ask, hands on my hips. "Taylor's invited to calculus night and I'm not?" Only half joking.

"Taylor's quieter than you," Christian replies dryly, not bother to look up at me.

Oh. Tonight is so not the night for that.

I wander into the kitchen. "You boys eaten?" I ask.

"No," they chorus. Christian adds, "But we know you can't cook, Becka."

I can order pizza. I purposely pick a place twenty minutes away (that doesn't deliver) so I can leave now. "Wait, wait, Becka, I'll come with you," Christian offers, pulling himself off the floor. I wave him off. I leave.

When I get back, Christian and Chase are finishing up. I set the pizza on the coffee table and sit down on the floor beside Christian, but far enough away to imply distance. I know. I am so passive aggressive sometimes.

And Christian hates that, more than anything. He grabs a slice of pizza and takes no notice of me. Taylor and West chatter genially, entirely oblivious to the battle of wills waging between us, or at least ignoring it. Soon I'm going to have to throw myself in Christian's lap and beg him to pay attention to me.

I stand up and walk to the kitchen. Rummage around in the cabinets until I find a can of pineapple with one of those pop-up lids.

I walk back into the living room and hand the can to Christian. He opens it and hands it back, silence between us still not breeched. In fact, it's a moment where we're all pretty silent. Then Taylor says, pretty abruptly, "Do you guys remember what it was like freshman year?"

I'm still standing up, facing them all—Christian sitting on the floor, Taylor and West on the couch. I look at them all, one by one. Freshman year this was the core group. Freshman year was easy. Fun. A lot less stressful.

"God, I miss freshman year," I say, sitting back down on the floor, this time right beside Christian. He drapes an arm around my shoulder. Sometimes we don't have to say anything.

"Me too," says Taylor.

"Before Elton," I say.

"And Amy," Christian adds.

"And Chase." This from Taylor.

"And Sophie Walker." West.

"And even Jen," I sigh. I set the can of pineapple down on the floor beside me and start strategically placing pieces on my pizza. "Remember Thanksgiving, when we all went to West's? That was so much fun."

We're all quiet for a minute, happy quiet, remembering this. West says, "We should do that again this year."

Taylor chuckles, like that's a laugh. West continues, more animatedly, "No really, we should. Just the four of us."

I'm the first to agree. "Yeah, we totally should."

Christian looks at me. "Just the four of us he says," as if he expects me to say, "Well, the four of us and Chase."

I stare him down. "Only if it's just the four of us," I say, seriously. Meaning it. Christian grins. Taylor agrees. It's settled.

- - - - - - - - -

After those plans are made, the fours of us begin to feel a bit exclusive. So that on lunch on Tuesday Taylor, Christian, and I sit down at one of the four-person tables, leaving only room for West. He shows up and he says he's got bad news.

"Well, not bad news, just—" he breaks off and looks at us. Then he says. "Look. Chase has got no where to go for Thanksgiving. And being that he's my cousin…"

"We've got to take him with us," Christian finished glumly. We're all, in fact, deflated.

"Five is a really bad number," Taylor says. She's looking directly at me.

"I know," says West, also looking at me. God. Give it a rest. This is not my fault and I'm not going to feel guilty about it. "I think we need another person," he says.

"How 'bout Jen?" I suggest. She could keep Chase occupied. I could stick with Christian.

"Hey," Christian says. "Since I'm the odd man out again, I think I should get to pick the person I'm going to be hanging out with all weekend." He pauses to provide a little dramatic anticipation. We all wait for his grand decision. He says, "Yeah, okay. Jen's good."

- - - - - - - - - -

Wednesday. Lunch. No longer feeling exclusive, we are sitting at one of the regular tables with Chase and Jen and Sophie Walker and Natalie Banks, talking about Thanksgiving plans. Sophie and Natalie don't have any. Christian and I look at each other across the table. Both feeling guilty. Sure Natalie doesn't shut up, but she's a nice kid and we have known her since basically kindergarten. If we don't include her, who's going to?

(Christian probably also feels guilty about Sophie Walker, who after a whole semester still seems like the new girl. I know this is partly my fault. I haven't adopted her into the group—like I adopted Jen and Chase—and I am group royalty. I should probably feel bad about this. Why don't I?)

West lives on this huge ranch in Texas. Huge ranch, huge house. Christian and I look at him as if to say, "What difference is it going make?" West roles his eyes, but gives us the okay.

Five minutes later, both Natalie and Sophie are coming along.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thursday. West sits down beside Taylor, across from Chase and me. "This time it really is bad news," he says. "Elton and Amy are coming."

"Why?!!!" I explode. "Why on earth?!"

"Because I couldn't stop them!" West defends himself. "It's that Amy girl. She's incredibly lacking in all social skills which makes her impossible to deal with. She said she was coming and she is."

I sigh and rest my head in my hands. Lord help us. What a trip this is going to be.