Okay, so, yeah. Um, no idea what to say, other than that I don't own Recess and that you guys are awesome for reviewing.

See, I manage to avoid Teej another day. Not too easy, but I did it. Since I had a little bout with the shrink lady, I went out, had a smoke or two.

Mom and Dad smell the smoke, and well, they're kinda annoyed. About a lot of things I've done lately. Great. Just what I need on top of everything else. Ah! They're really, really, really screeching.

"Smoking can kill you, Pookie. Are you suicidal?"

"Of course not, Dipstick."

"Young lady, do not call your father a Dipstick!"

"Smoking leads to other drugs. Like the reefer, which leads to other drugs, which lead to hanging with the wrong crowd. And that puts you in trouble, Pookie!

"Okay, first of all, I never said I was smoking. Second of all, you just assumed that. Thirdly, don't you trust me at all?"

"Nope."

"Mom?"

"Don't look at me, Ashley! You're the one chillin' wit' da wrong crew."

"Okay, several things. I don't smoke pot or other drugs. I don't hang with the wrong crowd. Around here, they consider ME the wrong crowd. Don't call me Pookie, don't call me Ashley, and don't try and act "hip" because you're not! And, I can call my Dad a Dipstick if I feel like it. He's being one. A big one."

"We just want what's best for you, Ashley Dear."

"You don't know what's best for me!"

"We don't want you to be knocked up, okay? And that's what hanging with the wrong crowd results in."

"Relax, Dad. Chill out."

"Look, you have too many boyfriends. You don't know whom they've been with, and there's always a chance that something bad could happen. They're almost all scumbags, and they cheat on you. You deserve better. Get a nice guy."

"Like that nice Detweiler boy."

"Don't you dare give me The Sex Talk. I got that in Fourth Grade, courtesy of the Public School System, thanks. I only have one boyfriend at a time, and I don't even have one now, okay? I'm not some cheap slut, okay? I know they're scumbags, and I know they cheat on me, and I don't care! It's not like I've ever been in love with any of 'em. And, you know, I'm not a puddle of love or anything, so if I don't put out, they'll go elsewhere. But I don't care."

"You ought to, Young Lady."

"No, I'm not finished! I'll be safe okay? I'm not some dumb kid to you, okay? I have common sense and brains, got it? I'm prepared, so just back off!"

"No, I will not!"

I trudged up the stairs, my mom distractedly flipping through a Cosmo.

"Honey, calm down, she's on The Pill."

"She's WHAT?"

And that's my clue to leave. Ugh, I'd better run fast. Grabbing a sweater, I dial Gretch's number.

"Gretchen, you there?" I whisper frantically.

"Hi, Spinelli. How are you?" She says cheerfully.

Ugh.

"Now's not the time for small talk, Gretch. I'm fine, I guess. Anyways, my parents are freaking out and arguing really loud about me, so can I crash at your place?" I say quickly.

My parents are still arguing. I'd better ditch fast.

"Sure, Spinelli. Just pack the usual stuff. Could you change into the blue dress, by the way? That reminds me, we ought to go shopping for the dance while you're here. Okay, see you soon! Bye!" Gretchen chirps.

I only have one blue dress. It's electric blue, sleeveless, extremely short and, I swear, made of vinyl or rubber or leather or something. So, you see, it's really tight. Which kinda makes me wonder why she wants me to wear it. Hmmm... I might as well.

I've always managed to be able to pack fast. It's a talent of mine. Anyways, so I plop some clothes for tomorrow (a black t-shirt, jeans, flip-flops, and a track sweatshirt) in my backpack, along with my homework, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and some Chapstick, a blanket and a pillow. I put on the dress, throw on some sneakers, jot a note for my parents and leave it in the kitchen, and then vamoose.

- Loren ;

Her parents are kind of odd, aren't they? Anyways... Thanks, guys...