Brookenlucas12- The whole thing written out right now is about 26 pages. Which about 9-15 chapters. Depends on how I break it up. Glad you like it, thanks for reviewing.

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed too.

I didn't know Bevin's last name. So I made one up. Or, borrowed on from someone I know. It's Accardi. So when she's called Bevin Cardigan, it's a joke. There's a lot of joke name's in this and I even make up a few middle names, so, yeah just role with it.

I look at my lap when Lucas looks at me, and I notice that there's a nail polish stain on my thigh. My foot is wedged between Peytons back and Peytons chair, the toe touching her back just above the waste band of her jeans. The ones with the purple threads. Bevin is across from Peyton, and Haley's head is on her shoulder, one hand on my wrist which is laying limp on the table. Haley's sweater is blue with a zipper and it's mine. My socks are Bevin's, they're black. She left them under my pillow when we were cramming for government.

I don't take government. Haley doesn't take government. Peyton doesn't take government. Bevin does, and we aced that test.

"So, Hales gets to hyperventilate this time, okay? Annnnd, Brooke you can have a panic attack, Bevin I don't know what to do wi- you can fall out of your desk." Peyton is talking, and her gum is acid green. She pops it between her front teeth, and I run my fingers over Haley's blue and green bracelets while she talks.

"No, Pey, no, I fell out of the desk last week. I think Haley should cry, that worked that time in October, remember?"

Peyton smiles, blinking slowly. "Haley cries good. Brooke should hyperventilate, Bevin can have the panic attack, and I'll fall out of the desk."

"Last time you fell out of a desk, P-P-P Peyton S, you wound up with a concussion and we were out of school for a week." That's me. Peyton snorts, moving forward on the chair so that my foot loses its place and slides down the side with the toes hooked over the bar in the back. "I think, Peyton panics, I faint, Bevin cries, Haley has instant vertigo."

This is our own special brand of terrorism, mental instability for the sake of skipping Spanish. We have slips from home that describe our problems, our issues, our fear of being alone and/or in crowded places, and we have to be let go at the first sign of spastic paranoia.

Peyton nods, shifting her hand on mine. "Yeah, that's probably the best one. Bevin Cardigan, write this down, a'right? No repeat performances. We gotta make sure, this time."

Bevin rolls her eyes, counter-clockwise. Clock-wise gives you crows feet, it makes your eyelids hang low. When she does this, she sees Lucas, she sees Lucas watching us, she sees everything. She remembers, too, so we all do. She touches my face, with the end of her bent plastic straw, damp from spit and diet Coke, and I make an irritated protest before laughing. "Chrrrisssttinneee Davisss. He's watching you. Watching you, watching you, why is he watching you? Didn't we fix that problem? Is he stare-a-coma-phobic?"

Haley smiles. My mouth itches. "Bro Oke, I think he's going to attack you, again. Should we scream rape?" She tilts her head back, the orange plastic chair going back on two legs. "Rape! Rape, oh my God, that kid's doing it, again! Brooke, get down!"

The world turns on its axis, they look at me, they look at Lucas. Lucas blushes, he covers his face in his hands, and the kid at his left elbow, pats his arm, shaking his head. Bevin laughs, she pokes Haley hard in the side, and Peyton almost chokes on her gum. I swallow, trying to suck down air, I think something's stuck in my windpipe and my side is going to bruise.

"Big D, baby, you're making a scene." Peyton laughs and I can breathe again. It's my turn, this is my line.

"Sawyer P-X-S, we are the scene."

Lucas leaves, that other kid, Nathan, at his side. They're organized, but not enough, because the other two, they stay seated. They look at me, they look at BevinBrookeHaleyPeyton, and they sigh, but not at the same time. They aren't in synch, not at all.

To my right, Peyton is blowing bubbles; her feet are on the table top. Bevin is drinking from the diet Coke can, the new kind, with the pale blue and the supermodel endorsement. Haley has her head pillowed on her arms, and she's looking at me out of the narrowed slits of her eyes. And I smile, because Lucas isn't there anymore, and his friends are talking to each other, and not looking at me, and.

Four is indivisible.