This chapter is REALLY Spinelli/T.J. It's like the most shippy chapter so far… Sorry I didn't update… But where does the time go?

Oh, and just for the record, Helaine did say that they were going to T.J.'s party, but Spinelli was too out of it to notice. Also, his parents happen to be out of town. And pretend that their house is bigger than it is in the cartoon, 'mmmkay?

Oh, don't own Recess. I don't even have Recess anymore. sobs Que tristeza, no?

Anyways, hope you like it… If you want to review, knock yourself out… And if you want to flame me, take a number and wait in an orderly line… Anyways, here!

The house is packed and trashed. I'm assuming that the kid's parents are outta town by the way it's trashed. Clothes, trophies, jerseys, plastic cups, a keg, and tons of passed-out people litter the front yard. I grimace, stepping over a totally wasted guy and walking in the house.

Loud rock music blasts from the speakers, conversation buzzes, and people nurse plastic cups of beer. A guy walks in the already crowded room, surrounded by an entourage. A guy walks up to the one in the middle, the crowd parting for him. He gives him a high-five.

"Hey, Teej, man, killer party!"

T.J.'s here? Just what I need. I have to get out of here. Now. I scramble past the entourage and out the back door, letting out a scream I've kept inside me since the first party. Then I see it.

The old tree house. That place has some really good memories attached to it. So, I scale it, sitting on a small chair inside. I sigh, inhaling this ancient air, wishing that things could be so simple again. But they can't. And they aren't.

And, next thing I know, someone else is climbing into this old thing. Remembering what happened the last time someone did this, my eyes shoot open. Surprisingly, the person is T.J., but I don't care. I'm beyond that now.

"Hey," I mumble gruffly, pulling the silver flask from my black combat boot with a little difficulty.

T.J. stoops a little, and sits in the chair next to me, his eyes lingering a little too long on my bare legs, which are crossed and resting on top of the table. I wore this almost obscenely short red dress tonight for the party. His eyes move quizzically to the flask.

"Oh, this? Nicked it earlier. Want some?" I say nonchalantly, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.

I stole it from Fi- I can't say his name. Wonder why he had one. Oh, well.

This drink nearly burns a hole down my throat, but that's okay. I've had my share of practice with drinking. This is Jack Daniels. T.J. shrugs, and I hand him the flask. He takes a sip, and nearly spits it out.

"Man, Spinelli, this is strong. What is it?" He sputters.

I smirk, taking it back and throwing back a long swig of the strong whiskey.

"Jack Daniels. God knows I could use it," I mumble, knocking back another swill of the stuff.

Maybe the alcohol's loosening him up, or maybe the tree house is reminding him of the past. Either way, he snatches the container from my hands. He then shoots me a look that looks, I dunno, a little intense to tell the truth.

"Why, Spinelli, what happened?" He asks, sounding, am I right here, concerned?

Man, he is channeling his elementary self. Hey, so am I. I can't remember the last time someone's cared that much about me. That's sad. Okay, now I need some more of that. I yank the flagon from his hands, not wanting to talk.

"I don't want to talk about it!" I snap, slurping down another gulp.

T.J. shrugs, putting an arm around me. He grabs the thermos and tosses back a sip, sputtering a little.

"Come on, Spinelli. It'll make you feel better," He persuades.

I'm getting pretty drunk anyways. I might as well. I look at him, gulping.

"Okay, well, I was at the track party, right? And I got sick of everyone, so I went into the library. And, well, Fitzy and I got to talking and, well, he kissed me!" I say, seizing the carafe back, and downing a huge guzzle from it.

And somehow, for some reason I can't grasp, I'm crying now. Sobs are coming out of me, and now T.J.'s hugging me, and whispering that it'll all be okay. And it hurts to think that this is probably just about the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me, and it's coming from someone who hates me.

But I kissed my teacher. I kissed him as much as he kissed me. Oh, I'm horrible. I continue sobbing loudly because I really can't do anything other than that at the moment.

"What did you say to him? Was he coming unto you?" T.J. bursts, sounding protective.

The sad thing is that he wasn't really coming unto me. I break the hug, sniffling a little.

"Well, we were talking about a book, and then I was getting kinda pissed, so I asked him if he had someone to go home to. And he said no, and I asked him why he was here and he said that he didn't know, and I felt really awful for him, and so I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, and he covered my hand and squeezed it too. And then I asked him if he was lonely, and he said terribly, and then… And then, seconds later, we were… Making out!" I explain, tears starting all over again.

T.J. embraces me, a frown on his face.

"Has he ever shown any feelings beyond the student-teacher relationship towards you?" T.J. asks cautiously, as if there's something he knows that I don't that'll upset me to know.

I shrug, because I can't much think of anything.

"Well, I can't think of anything, T.J. I mean, sure, he was lonely, but he calls me Miss Spinelli all the time, laughs at me a lot, and he's really sarcastic to me, and he compliments me sometimes, and he offered to race me… Wait, there is one thing. I raced him down at the track before the championship, but I was late, and I brought Helaine and this new guy with me, and, I dunno, he looked sorta disappointed. Oh, crap, he likes me, doesn't he, Teej?" I ask, almost in tears again.

Ugh, I've got to stop being so pathetic. I need another drink. A long one. I take one, gazing up at T.J., who's frowning and doesn't look happy.

"Spinelli, maybe you led him on a little. I mean, while it's true that he's at least attracted to you, he definitely likes you over other students, so it is very possible that he could lov-have a thing for you or something. Now, a man calling a woman by her last name, or vice-versa, is usually considered flirting, though it could be argued that his usage of your last name is because you go by it, or the student-teacher thing. The laughing at you and sarcasm could just be because of your awful luck, or it could be because of who he is as a person. I mean, you did ask him if he had a girlfriend, and if he was lonely. That could sound like you were trying to pick him up," T.J. speculates.

Oh no. He thought I was trying to hit on him. Oh no! I led him on! I brought all this on myself! I'm horrible. I can't believe I did that. I'm sobbing again, and this time I grab the flask, chugging the contents. I throw it behind me, throat still burning, hiccupping.

"Go get a bottle from the house, Teej. I want you to be as drunk as I am, if not more!" I slur.

T.J. shrugs, and I can tell just by looking that the party's almost over. Guests flee out of the doors, some picking up stuff, some helping fallen comrades to cars, and then, suddenly, they're all gone. T.J. returns, carrying a bottle of vodka.

"Come on, drink some, T.J. Get nice and drunk here with me," I mumble.

T.J. opens up the bottle and drinks a fair amount. I wrestle it from his grasp to drink some more.

"You reminded of the old days?" T.J. asks drunkenly, grabbing the bottle back.

I can only nod, as I'm getting more wasted by the minute. I'm definitely gonna regret this tomorrow. Oh, screw it.

"Look, Spinelli, I'm sorry about what happened to you," T.J. apologizes.

He's not the one that ought to be apologizing. Oh well.

"You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault, Teej. I wrought this on myself by being stupid and naïve. Ugh. I'm such a dumbass. I should've noticed. Man, he probably thinks I'm this forward, slutty sexpot who hits on her teachers!" I mutter.

Oh, man, I sound hysterical. Great.

"Ugh. The school board should use our taxes to pay for prostitutes for all the sex-starved teachers out there. That way they wouldn't hit on me!" I rant.

T.J. puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay," He reassures.

I take another sip of the drink, T.J. doing the same afterwards. I think we're both pretty smashed, because the bottle's almost empty. The hand I've forgotten is on my shoulder slides down my arm and his face is suddenly really close to mine.

But, strangely, I find myself not caring whatsoever. I must be really drunk, but I kiss him.

And his kisses me back. And this feeling… It's strangely nice, actually.

We keep kissing.

- Loren ;

Love ya'll. Man, I ought to update this story more…