A/N: It's here...it's here...chapter 10...

To the reviewers, a huge THANKS:

IndesElfwine: I really like your s/n, I should mention. Not much Zack/Katie here, next chapter, I promise. And I'm glad you like the Freddy/Summer.

wyverna: Yeah, Aerosmith rock too much to be sell-outs. Now, as a feminist, I have a lot of love and respect for Gwen Stefani. She's made it in a usually male dominated world (genre), as a great singer/songwriter, and she has a style all her own. But, as a rock and music lover, I would have to say, she is a total sell-out. The first two No Doubt albums, 'Tragic Kingdom' and 'Return of Saturn'were great, they were totally rockin' and whatnot. Rock Steady, however, don't get me started on that piece of crap. The song 'Hey Baby'...positively annoying. And then it started to end up...you know...what are the band members there for. Obviously, she realized they were kind of without a purpose now, and she's taken an almost R&B route with her solo album (which I'm not saying is a bad album, I personally like it, but it's got sell-out written all over it). And you don't seem anti-social to me. I know anti-social. I am anti-social. Or I was. I feel slightly better now. I just can't kick this cough...and my nose is a little snuffly.

Nanners-77: I'm glad you liked the fight scenes. And yes, Summer's brother is a prick. Stupid Austin. Hey...I knew a kid named Austin once. He was a prick too. He made me cry once, the damn bully. And then he ordered pizza from my store and I got to tell him that we were out of the dough he wanted and no, he couldn't have a discount because of it. I felt so powerful. I've gotten mixed reactions on the Record Store scene. I personally didn't like it too much, but, you know, if one person liked it, it was worth writing. "...and Kyle. Grah! If I knew him, I would so kick his ass too..." HAHAHA! Getting a little too into the story, now, aren't we...ha!

sweetcaroline: Yup. Two fight scenes. I really suck at writing fight scenes, which may be the reason they were so...abrupt(?). Girl bandaging guy up, leading to make-out, or simply sexual tension, seeems to be a popular theme in my stories. It's just so tender, though, where the girl is all caring for the guy and (somewhat) nursing him back to health. Just kill him off! You know...I haven't thought about what happens to Kyle in the end...hm...I won't kill him off though! Maybe not...or maybe...huh...I don't know. Christopher was a basketball player? Hm...must go back and read over story...I wonder if Summer did leave the band or not...we'll just have to read the chapter to find out. And you better update your story soon! Don't give me empty promises..!

vaguelyspecific: I like using so many rock bands. I've mentioned before how much fun the research is for me. A lot of people underuse the power at their fingertips (internet). Anyways, it's cool that you couldn't review the last chapter...though you could go back and do that...if you wanted to...you know...just saying..."Can't hardly wait..." wasn't that a movie?

i am not a chipmunk: Your review cracked me up, every time I read it, too. Me laughing is a big thing, I might add. I'm surprised you like Austin so much, what with not only being an antagonist in the story, but also being an OC (which don't usually get much love...unsung heroes of the fanfic world, I should say!). Austin and Kyle gay...hm...I am wondering what to do with Kyle in the end...ha! J/k. I think...anyways. Freddy the superhero? Super Freddy! Here he comes to save the day! Kid in your gym class?Is this kid cute? On the Kevin Clark level?

Rosa: Keep going? Okay. I will. Since you told me to.

Alex: Wow, such a volatile and exhuberant reaction! My favorite kind. Now, I can't answer your questions. I'll feign ignorance, and simply say, "I don't know what'll happen next...hehe..." You're on holiday? What for? I wish I was on holiday. I wished for a Red Bull the other day, and my general manager went and got me one. See, wishes do come true.

closetwriter: Yes! The fight! I loved writing the fight scene, though they are hard for me to write. I just wanted Freddy to get in a fight with someone. And hey, emotions are a hard thing to figure out. Doesn't matter how smart the person is, denial keeps them in blissful ignorance...no matter how detrimental it is to the people around them. Did any of that make sense? Better late than never, I always say (especially when it's me late...)

PhishFood: Alright, take the happiest you have ever been in your life and times that by three, and that's how happy I was when I saw your review. Now, take that happiness and times it by ten, and that's how happy I was when I saw you decided to FINISH YOUR STORY! Catching your review, I looked back over the review I had written for your story, and I thought, I did not praise this story enough. I forgot to mention the godliness it was next to, and (since this story was taken down once and the first A/N mentioning your story went with it) I didn't get the chance to say that waiting for your story to (it seemed at the time) never be finished was like going through withdrawal of crack cocaine. Now, I've never gone through withdrawal of any drug of any sort (as I've never done drugs...and...yes...that's the li...I mean...thing...you'd better believe it!), but I'm pretty damn certain that the feeling I had from your story was damn near close. And, it's surprising you love my story so much, because your story inspired me to write this one! And I did kind of steal your characterization of Freddy ever so slightly, because I loved it so much. And Summer somewhat too is similar to yours. And, when I went back to look at your story (which if you're going to continue with it, I have to read it again, not that I probably wouldn't have read it over and over and over and over again anyways...) I realized that your original character (Summer's boyfriend) was named Austin, much like my OC (Summer's brother) is named Austin. I wonder if that's where I got the name from...because I honestly have no idea. The name just popped onto the screen...And yes, I do love all those pairings. And you know...my stories have done a lot of things for people, given them addictions they couldn't control, moved them to tears, moved them to laughter, given them joy, and undying love for me(which is weird, I might add...but flattering!), but never has one of my stories ever moved someone to an offering of best friend-shipness. The record store scene was not really one of my favorites, but it was useful for getting a character point across in regards to Summer, but I won't go into that, as this reply is getting huge (but you deserve it, because you ROCK so much). OKAY, on a final note, I hope that you continue Should I soon! And you better not be getting my hopes up with this empty dream...IT BETTER BE CONTINUED...because if not...I...I...I'll cry! And you don't want to be responsible for making me cry, do you? Well? Do you? I didn't think so. Thank you so much for your awesome review. It's like being given a compliment by a celebrity! My hero, even! Ah...I'm all dreamy eyed right now...it's kind of ironic, that your story inspired me to write this story, and my story inspired you to finish your story.

radianceX: The important thing is, you're here. And you're so nice too, with all your praise. I, myself, think my story needs some work. I have stated before, but it doesn't hurt to state it again, LOVE Summer/Freddy. I am so in love with it, I can't read any story with the two of them paired with anyone else. That's how IN LOVE with S/F I am. And Zack/Katie, I am ashamed to say, in the beginning, I had written it as a...well...it was convenient. But now that I'm working on it, writing it, developing their romance and their characters, I'm starting to fall madly in love with their pairing as well. I hope this chapter meets to your satisfaction, and doesn't dissapoint.

Alright, everybody...

ENJOY!

Chapter 10: She's Leaving

Dewey was sitting, or what appeared, napping on the couch, his red and black Gibson neatly balanced in his lap, his fingers grasping the neck loosely. His other arm draped over the head, plucking lazily at the first and second strings, playing random licks. Ned had taken his group of rocker eight-year-olds on a field trip to the Music Store per Dewey's suggestion. They were getting fairly good at strumming the chords, but they weren't really feeling the rock. He glanced up out through his shaggy brown locks when his front door swung open, and one-by-one the School of Rock kids solemnly paced in. By then, they had all heard the distressing news that Kyle had relinquished to Freddy that afternoon. As well, Dewey had received a call from Miss Mullins about a few of his band mates, most particularly a Freddy Jones, participating in a fight during gym class with another boy. But looking at the blonde drummer, it would be hard to tell. Save for a barely noticeable scratch on his chin that could have come from anywhere, the boy hardly retained any injury.

It was odd for the entire group to shuffle in for an afternoon band practice, but there they all stood. Their faces were so crestfallen, Dewey could hear his heart break. But he had to be tough, he told himself. They couldn't go around getting in fights with other kids, even if the kid was probably a punk and Dewey was certain initiated the whole thing, though he didn't know who the kid was seeing as how Miss Mullins never revealed that information. And they most definitely could not go around disrupting class, even if class was a perpetration of The Man, and therefore, by disrupting it, they were directly doing as Rock, and Dewey, told them, by sticking it to The Man. The disheartened kids found seats, or somewhere to stand, and, noticeably, the participants in the scuffle that afternoon; Zack, Lawrence, Leonard, Freddy, Tomika, Alicia, and Katie, made an effort not to look in Dewey's general direction.

"What happened guys?" Dewey questioned, though his rough tone suggested he already knew. He was on his feet in a flash, his guitar hanging by its strap about his neck, "What is wrong with you guys? Starting fights? Freddy," the boy made no indication that he was listening, furrowing his brow and tightening the screws on his drum set's hi-hat, "Freddy! Pay attention! I thought we went over this. What is wrong with you, man? Attacking this kid? Do you always think with your fists? Is that head on your shoulders just a pretty ornament? You screw around a lot, but how could you screw up…" Everybody jumped when a clatter came from the far wall as twin drumsticks slammed to the plaster, and banged onto the floor.

"You're not my dad," Freddy growled, standing tensely by his drum kit, finger extended to point dangerously at Dewey, his eyes alight with fire, boring into the older man's, "So don't even bother fucking lecturing me!"

"Look, Freddy, man, I didn't mean to sound that way," Dewey soothed apologetically, holding his hands up defensively in front of himself. Moments before he'd had every intention of screaming his head off at the kids, but the intensity in the drummer's eyes was a bit frightening, "Just chill out, dude. My dad could really ream on me, too. I know it sucks being lectured. But you guys…" he shook his head, hands falling to his sides, "You guys really did a bad thing this afternoon, and being the adult in this band, I can't let that slide. So come on," he put out his hands, wiggling the fingers, "Tell me the damage. How bad is the punishment?" Silence, shuffling.

"We just got warnings, because technically we weren't fighting," Zack spoke up.

"But Freddy has after school detention for four months, including Saturdays," Katie finished.

"After school detention? Saturday detention?" Dewey roared, "What? This is really going to affect our practices! And our gigs are usually on Saturdays!"

"It could have been worse," Tomika reasoned, and Dewey perked an eyebrow, obviously interested in knowing what could be worse than that, "If Miss Mullins hadn't pulled a few strings, Freddy could have been facing suspension…or even, expulsion." Dewey didn't appear to see how that was worse.

"What does it matter anyways?" Freddy muttered, "The band is over. We lost. Forget making musical fusion, School of Rock is ended."

"What's that supposed to mean? You guys...look...I still don't understand what this fight was about," Dewey sighed, shaking his head, "Come on, guys. What does this little campus spat have to do with the band ending? Why are you talking like that? What is going on? Now somebody better give me the details, and I mean now…" The door opened again, and everyone turned their heads in surprise. Everyone was there, weren't they? Who could it be?

The little figure moved quickly, strutting across the room, and a crack of hand slapping cheek resounded throughout the stunned band members' ears. Summer glared up at Freddy, her lips pursed, one hand on hip, the other poised from the hit. His head snapped back, and he returned her glower with one of his own, eyes wide with anger.

"What the…" he began, but Summer quickly cut him off.

"How could you start a fight with Kyle?" she demanded, "How could you punch him! At school, nonetheless! Do you have an expulsion wish? I know you don't get along with him, Freddy, but…this? How…"

"How could you leave the band without telling us?" Katie broke in and Summer faltered, looking completely flabbergasted.

"I…what? I…didn't…" Summer stammered, looking around the room in confusion at the angry stares her direction.

"You told Kyle that you would manage his band," Zack pressed, crossing his arms over his chest, and Summer's face contorted with a few unreadable emotions, "He told us this afternoon. I guess it saved you the trouble."

"How could you betray us like this?" Marta demanded, and like a wave, they all began in on her, yelling various things that couldn't be separated from the others. Their words sounding more like buzzing than anything else. Summer backed away, shaking her head, confused by their sudden anger.

"I…I didn't…"

"We don't need you anyways," Frankie spat, "We'll find a new manager."

"You had us thinking you would at least tell us first what you decided!" Alicia screamed, "But we had to find out from that sleaze ball boyfriend of yours!"

"He's not a sleaze ball," Summer stammered weakly, she wasn't sounding entirely convinced herself.

For the third time that afternoon, the door opened again. And Kyle, with the other Barber Boys, stood in the door frame. His chin and nose had turned nasty shades of purplish blue, and his nose had swollen. There was a piece of tape over it, and he looked rather disgruntled and out-of-sorts in the small, run-down apartment.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Freddy demanded, starting forward. Zack outstretched an arm to hold the blonde back.

"I'm here for Summer," Kyle sneered, dragging the young woman gently towards him by the arm, whispering to her, "Are you done here?" She pulled away, backing from him, and then looking towards School of Rock, unsure.

"Kyle…did you…did you…tell them…that I was managing your band?" Summer stipulated, shaking with obvious rage, looking to him subordinately. He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, and shrugging.

"I thought after that talk with your mom…"

"You had no right," Summer seethed, "I hadn't made any decisions yet. You had no right."

"Then make the decision now," Zack spoke up, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world. The band members crossed their arms over their chests, murmurs of 'yeah' broke out.

"I…can't…" Summer mumbled, looking aghast.

"Summer, I think you should decide now," Kyle joined in, his voice a low growl, "This is getting out of hand." Summer took a deep, shaky breath, looking between the two groups. She closed her eyes, opened them again and turned to School of Rock.

"You say you don't need me," she stated, then looking to Kyle, "And you lied to my friends. To be honest, neither of you have very good cases on your side as to why I should choose any of you," her conversation with her mother came forward in her mind, and she bit her lower lip, "I don't know," she whimpered, "I can't decide like this…" she shook her head, her breath catching in her throat as she started towards the door.

"Then perhaps I have a solution," Dewey announced, his booming voice bringing Summer to a halt, as all the occupants of the room looked curiously to the older man. For a moment, they had forgotten he was even there. He had taken a stance, beside the counter, and was tapping the hard wood, strumming his fingers atop a small stack of papers.

"Who are you?" Kyle questioned, looking at Dewey as if he were something that had crawled out from under a rock.

"Dewey Finn," the stout rocker introduced, running his hands over his portly stomach, and smiling with pursed lips, "Now zip it up, AJ, I got the floor now!" A few of the School of Rock members snickered under their breath, others seemed to wonder who AJ was, and those that knew, worried that Dewey had just referenced a Backstreet Boy, which would mean he knew the names of boy band members, which was a very disturbing fact. Kyle looked taken aback, and opened his mouth, as though he were about to say something, but a stern glance from Summer silenced him.

"What's your solution, Dewey?" she asked quietly, in desperate need of an answer.

"We duel," he announced, and Freddy grinned.

"Cool," he exclaimed, "You're condoning a fight? I got dibs on bastard!"

"You already had your dibs," Dewey snapped, and then in a high-pitched, mock voice, "And no, I'm not condoning a fight. At least, not in the sense you're thinking. I'm thinking more of a battle…on a field where the men are separated from The Man," he lifted the paper laying beneath his hands, emblazoned with an advertisement, "Battle of the Bands."

"Mr. S, what are you saying?" Gordie inquired, straightening his glasses.

"Dudes, I'm saying," Dewey cried, exasperated, "That if everyone agrees, we battle it out for Summer on stage! Music will be our weapon of choice. I'm saying, New Kid On the Block, you and your little friends enter against School of Rock in the Junior Battle of the Bands, and whoever wins gets Summer." He pushed the hair from his eyes with a hand, and puffed out his chest, extremely proud of himself. The others stared blankly. He sighed, easily picking up on the fact the others weren't so keen on his plan, "Look, Summer is obviously not going to decide. And we can't keep going like this without an answer. We can't exactly tear each other apart, but it looks like that's what you guys are going to do. We have to settle this, once and for all. So, let's hear it…who's in?"

The kids all shuffled slightly.

"This is stupid," Kyle snarled, "Like I'd perform in some stupid kid show, anyways. You're going to choose us, right Summer?"

"What, are you scared?" Freddy taunted, "That you'll lose?"

"We can beat you any day," Kyle spat, stepping forward as menacingly as he could muster with his battered appearance.

"Then enter the competition, bastard."

"But, Dewey…they don't play instruments," Zack argued, looking to his mentor with a shake of his head, "They can't enter Battle of the Bands, they're not really a band." Kyle opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off.

"Summer," Dewey looked expectantly at the petite young woman. She was white in the face, her eyes slightly wide, and her cheeks splotched pink. She seemed caught off guard at hearing her name, but it only lasted a moment. She cleared her throat, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

"Well…actually, the rules aren't very clear in that area. They don't state specifically that the members of the band have to play their own instruments, rather, they just have to provide their own, original, music," she stammered. There were a few whispers around the room.

"Well?" Dewey prodded, looking to his group, and then the other.

"I reiterate, this is stupid," Kyle sneered, "There's no doubt that we'll win, so it'll be a waste of time…"

"If you're so confident, then enter," Zack reasoned. Kyle sputtered, his lips moving, though no sound came from his mouth.

"Well…I…it's a waste of my time," he protested, "Summer's going to choose us, anyways, so…"

"Then it's a win-win situation for you, right dude?" Zack interjected, "Unless you really are scared we'll beat you."

"In your dreams," Kyle seethed, leering down at the mild-mannered guitarist, "We're in, right guys?" His friends gave less than exuberant nods of their heads, "And we'll win."

"Great," Dewey exclaimed, "Auditions for the gig are on…"

"Don't I get a say in any of this?" Summer interrupted, finally finding her voice and straightening the situation out in her mind. Everyone looked at her, as though they hadn't realized she was there.

"I'm sorry, Summer. Have you reached a decision?" Dewey asked, and to his credit, appeared very caring and interested in the young woman. She shook her head, and began to open her mouth to say something, when he held his hand out in front of her face, "Then 'no', you get no say. You had your chance, Missy, and you let it slip by. Now we're taking over," he turned his attention back to the two groups, "Audtions are Friday. And the rules of our competition are simple. Winner gets Summer, loser goes home empty-handed. And there's no 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts' about it. No complaining, no whining, no ranting about how 'it's not fair', and no, I repeat no, going back on the first and foremost rule of this whole entire thing."

"Which would be…what?" Kyle questioned, crossing his arms over his chest and looking warily at the seeming hyperactive man.

"That the final outcome is it. If we win, you can't come crawling by a month later and pull this shit again, got it?"

"If you, by some snowball chance in hell, win," Kyle scoffed, "It's a deal."

"Great. Battle of the Bands it is," Dewey grinned, extending his hand with the explanation, "To seal the deal." Kyle took it, and they shook. Freddy and Zack exchanged high-fives, and 'whoops' of zeal. They received odd looks from the Barber Boys.

"This is going to be cake," Freddy grinned.

"You see," Zack smirked, "We've won Junior Battle of the Bands ever since it was formed, four years ago, because of us." Kyle frowned, losing his confident footing for a moment. He regained it somewhat.

"Well, that's about to change," he spun on his heel, then paused, taking Summer's hand and tugging her towards him and the door, "We have to talk," he started in her ear. A flash of red crossed her eyes and she pulled her hand from his grip.

"Yes," she stated roughly, "We do." She pushed her way out the door and he followed, confused and awkward. He had the look of one who'd never been talked back to in such a dangerous tone. A few of the School of Rock members could hardly conceal the smiles that crept across their faces, most particularly Zack and Katie. They knew Summer well enough to know, that tone of voice meant nothing good for Kyle. Dewey turned to the band, grinning broadly and feeling very satisfied with himself.

"Looks like we have to practice," he announced, clapping his hands together, "Alright, here's the deal. Gordie, Marco, we need awesome special effects. Not your normal out-of-this-world, but a very rare, ambrosia like experience. In fact, I want the crowd to think they're in heaven…no, you know what, I want the crowd in heaven. Got that, boys? Check out old KISS concerts, Alice Cooper and Ozzy Osbourn, they put on some of the most awesome performances and their effects…spectacular. Security," Frankie and Leonard perked, "I need information on these Barber Boys. Everything you can find out about them, from their musical inspiration, to whether they wear boxers or briefs. Know thine enemy, right?" the two boys nodded, "Billy, Fancy Pants, my little Henry Duarte…we need a new style…"

"Great," Billy squealed, "Because I have all these ideas…"

"Lets just stay away from glam rock, alright," Dewey insisted, before, "Ladies, especially you two, Michelle, Eleni, because the other girls will be busy with practice. You girls need to work on Summer, talk to her. Winning the competition means nothing if she's ticked off at us. It won't matter if we win this battle, we've still got to win the war, am I right?" The girls nodded.

"We'll take her shopping," Michelle exclaimed, "I'm in need of a new dress for the show."

"Oh, I saw this cute outfit at Charlotte Russe," Eleni squeaked, "It would look just awesome with those shoes you got at…"

"Okay, ladies. Ladies?" Dewey called, waving a hand in front of their faces, "Hello? Let's get back to what's important."

"Oh, sure. Make Summer love us again," Michelle rolled her eyes.

"We got it, Dewey," Eleni sighed.

"Good. Um…Zack, me and you need to work on new material," Dewey said, pointing to the lead guitarist, "What have you got? Any new songs bouncing around in that brain of yours?"

"I've got a few ideas…" Zack mumbled, shrugging, "But nothing good…"

"You always say that and it's always totally rockin'," Dewey interrupted, "Now, I've got homework assignments for the band. Where are my crooners? Tomika, gal, you got soul, you got rhythm, you got pipes. Now take Queen "A Night at the Opera", and just…listen to it, study it, get to know it like the back of your hand. Freddy Mercury, one of the greatest vocalist of all time. Marta, grab Pat Benatar. I don't usually condone listening to former opera singers, but I want you to observe, most specifically, her edge, her attitude. Alicia, I'm giving you Aerosmith "Toys In The Attic". Pay close attention to Walk This Way and Sweet Emotion. You'll find those CD's on my shelf. You four; Katie, Freddy, Lawrence, Zack, we're having a group study session. We seriously need to cram with some serious rock, get our group dynamic down. Eagles, Lynard Skynard, KISS, Guns 'n Roses, Journey, Deep Purple, Rolling Stones…Zack, I need to lend you some Bob Dylan, the Beatles…oh, and Katie, pick up a Stray Cats CD on your way home. It's a little more swing style than rock, but those guys know how to use that bass.

"Gang, this Battle of the Bands has to be serious. This isn't like those other years…this is as big as…as big as…the first Battle of the Bands you kids participated in. Because guys, we've got more of a purpose right now than putting on a totally killer show. We have to stick it to those guys, one more time. Ultimately, this is a battle, of good versus bad. This is a show down that was a long time coming, between them, the Man going under the guise of pop music, and us, rock. So kids, get out there and get started on your assignments!"

They broke into cheers, as was accustomed when Dewey finished his speeches, unless they were more along the lines of rants, which were then followed by confused blank stares. The kids began out the door, most of them, with rejuvenated looks and motivated direction. Katie seemed to trudge out beside Zack, Tomika was silently walking with Lawrence, and Marta shuffled behind Michelle and Eleni, chattering excitedly with Alicia.

"Freddy," Dewey called, as the blonde was making his way out the door, having retrieved his drumsticks. He paused, looking up curious and almost fearful of the older man, "Can I…uh…talk to you, for a moment?" The last members leaving glanced back, and Dewey waved to them. Freddy nodded, and the door quietly closed.

"What did you want?" he asked, clacking the drumsticks together in his hands, and watching as Dewey crossed the room to stand by the couch, hands on hips. The older man seemed to be mulling things over in his mind, gazing out into the empty air, before turning back to the befuddled drummer.

"What's up with you lately?" It was blunt, as was Dewey's style. To the man's credit, he never second guessed things, never really hesitated. His morals and ideals of what was right or wrong was a little skewed, but he was always straightforward. Freddy hated that attribute in the older man at the moment. He shifted, lowering his eyes, and rubbing the back of his head absently.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, man, you haven't been yourself lately and I'm not going to pretend I haven't noticed. You've been getting angry for no reason, you've been pretty quiet lately, and you're getting really sloppy on the drums."

"It's just this whole Summer thing, it has everyone out of whack," Freddy attempted. Dewey shook his head.

"No, no. This isn't about Summer. This started before that…coming to practices hung over. Don't give me that surprised look, I've been getting drunk, and hung over, long before you were even born. And I'm not the only one that knows what you've been up to. And man, the girls?"

"A few times. I'm a sixteen year old boy, can I not want to be with a girl?" Freddy demanded, brow drawn together, trying to stare a hole into the floor.

"Not the way you've been with girls, man."

"You don't know how I've been with girls," Freddy cried, eyes snapping up to meet Dewey's, "Man, what do you care about my life, anyways?"

"What do you think?" Dewey argued, "We're band mates. And friends, right? And…I don't know…I'm the adult in this group, the oldest, wisest, and all that crap. I feel like I owe it to you guys to look out for you. And I know you had problems before, and this sort of thing has been happening for awhile now, but it's only recently gotten serious."

"What are you talking about?"

"What happened to your hand the other day, Freddy? And now your other one?"

"It's none of your business!"

"Alright, that's fair," Dewey sighed, shaking his head and turning away, "Are things okay at home? I mean, since you've moved in with your dad…"

"That place is not my home," Freddy muttered under his breath, then louder and more firmly, "Just drop it, okay? Everything's fine."

"Alright, alright. If you say things are fine, then they're fine. But I really want to talk about this girl thing," Dewey pressed, "I've seen some of the chicks you hook up with, and I have to be honest, I'm worried about you. Those girls are kind of…I don't think they're good for you. Why don't you get yourself a nice girl…"

"Because nice girls don't like me, alright? The girls I get, they don't care about me. It doesn't matter, you think I care about them? Fuck, Dewey, I can't get a girl that cares about me," Freddy roared, shaking his head, and muttering, "I don't deserve a girl that cares about me."

"Hey," Dewey snapped, "Look at me. Let me tell you a little story about deserving. There ain't no such thing. You think those babies in China deserve to be abandoned, simply because they're little girls and not little boys? You think those kids in those little third world countries deserve to starve to death because the food isn't distributed right? You think those people in Africa deserve to die of AIDs because their government won't educate them about safe sex? No! Look around. Do you think I deserve this crappy apartment and…okay, don't answer that one. But the others are still true. Everybody is always deciding what you need for you, and what you want, and what you deserve. You got to start setting that standard and forget about them. The difference between you and those other kids suffering is they don't have that choice. You decide what you deserve, and I think you're selling yourself short."

"Dude, you've been talking to Katie too much," Freddy murmured, in response to the social references Dewey had made. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, downcast. Dewey simply smirked, nodding.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "And you know, man, I think, you do deserve a really great girl, maybe more than any of us. I know a lot of guys who have really good girlfriends, that treat them right, care about them, love them, and they aren't even half as deserving as you, man."

"You're wrong," Freddy shook his head.

"No, I'm not. You're a good kid."

"I am not…"

Dewey clapped a hand on Freddy's shoulder, causing the younger to look up and meet his eyes, surprised by the sincerity in the older man's voice.

"Yes. You are a good kid. And you deserve a lot better than you're giving yourself."

Freddy sniffed, and the two broke away from each other, as though waking from a trance. Dewey moved his guitar up to his belly, plucking a few of the strings unflappably.

"I do…kind of…have a girl that I've been thinking about a lot lately," Freddy admitted, daring a peek Dewey's direction.

"Oh, who?" to his credit, the burlesque elder man actually looked interested.

"No one, really," Freddy shrugged, heading towards the door, his heart pounding as a familiar face filled his mind and the sting in his cheek seemed ever more pronounced. What was he thinking? He could't actually feel that way about her, could he? And then, going so far as to tell Dewey? For all the good things Dewey Finn was, confidant wasn't one of them, "It doesn't matter, anyhow. She's way out of my reach…she's taken. She's already got the perfect boyfriend. She's not really my type, either."

"But she's a good girl?"

"Yeah," Freddy smirked, hand resting on the doorknob, "She's…really…amazing. I think sometimes she might like me…but then…" he trailed off and shrugged, "And she still has that boyfriend."

"Yup," Dewey groaned, stretching, "All the good ones are taken. But hey," he joked, "It's not like she's married. I'll see you later, dude." He slumped onto the couch, as Freddy left with a wave, the older rocker giving no more mind to their conversation, and congratulating himself on a job well done.

0-0-

Summer leaned against the door, pushing it shut, staring in with a sigh at her seemingly empty house. She smiled, despite what had just taken place, and wrapped her arms about her body. That day had been too long and so much had happened. And now, she had damage control to run, starting with a phone call. She began into the living room, and jumped when she saw her mother sitting on the couch, dressed in a pinstripe pantsuit.

"Mom?" Summer spoke, "What are you doing?" Her mother turned, looking at Summer with pursed lips and quickly giving her a once over.

"You forgot," she stated simply, "Where's your organizer? I was sure it was marked in there. And weren't you out with Kyle? I told him all about this, and how important it was that you be home on time. He wouldn't have forgotten, would he?"

"What…? Forgot what?"

"Your meeting with Mr. Phillbur," her mother said, obviously annoyed, "How can you hope to get into an Ivy League academy with that nonchalant attitude of yours? This meeting was very important. We're late already, I've called him and said we were stuck in traffic and shouldn't be much longer. You've made me lie to this gentleman…who is taking great leaps to help you! Now go get cleaned up. I've laid an outfit out for you on the bed. You've already made an awful impression, I don't want to screw this meeting up anymore than you have." Summer swallowed hard, but nodded, trekking slowly up the stairs. She didn't breath until her bedroom door clicked shut behind her.

A blouse, crisp white, and a flowery blue skirt, knee length, were laid out on her comforter. A pair of black patent Maryjanes with white cotton socks were neatly folded to the side. Summer took a deep breath, her mind spinning in circles. She went over the events of the last few hours in her head, before swinging her pack forward and shifting through it, removing her cell phone. She dialed a number, almost automatically, and let it ring in her ear before someone picked up.

"Hello?" a groggy voice murmured. Summer pressed her lips together, and they twitched slightly, wanting to smile at that much missed drowsy drawl.

"Hey, Katie," she greeted, trying to sound her usual perky, "I should probably first say, I'm really sorry. I've treated you like total crap, and I hadn't even meant to, since you are my best friend, for God knows what reason. I'm a horrible person, and I hope that somewhere deep inside, you can find it in you to…maybe…possibly…forgive me?"

There was a long silence, in which a darkness crept over Summer's heart. Soft breathing filled her ear, and she knew she was too late, that her words were falling on deaf ears, and that she was being ridiculous, that it was wrong of her to call, and she was simply wasting her time. She waited for the inevitable rejection to happen.

"Summer?"

"Y-yes?"

"Did you just say I was your best friend?"

"I…did I?" Summer stammered, running back through the things she'd said. She'd spent fifteen minutes planning her little speech out, but she didn't recall putting "best friend" in it anywhere, "I guess I did…is that alright?"

"Did you mean it?"

Summer was thoughtful a moment. She remembered Katie's face in the car, so pleading, so begging. She frowned. That promise she'd made to Katie had seemed so empty the past few weeks, but now, she didn't feel any nagging doubts about their friendship.

"Yes, I did," she answered honestly, "I hadn't meant to say it. But it fits, because…it's true. We are best friends. Aren't we?"

"Yeah, Summer," Katie replied, a smirk in her voice, "We are," her voice caught a little, "I thought you didn't think we were real friends, though." Summer faltered as she took a seat on the bed, squashing her neatly pressed clothes.

"Zack told you what I said, huh?" she surmised. Katie was quiet, and Summer took that as a 'yes'. "I wish I could say I didn't mean it."

"But you did."

"Katie," Summer took a deep breath, but her words were still unsteady, and slightly choked with a sob, "I don't even know what a real friend is. I've never had one before."

"Then," Katie started, her tone surprisingly lighthearted, "At least give us…me…the chance to teach you. I mean, we are the School of Rock, after all." Summer held her breath.

"So you forgive me?"

"I didn't say that," Katie chuckled, "Your first lesson in friendship. Friends can choose to forgive, best friends are obligated to. And…seeing as how we're best friends…I kind of have to, don't I?"

Summer leaned back on her bed, feeling the awnings of the first real smile she'd experienced in that entire week. It would be nice, she thought, to finally know what it meant to have a real friend. She just hoped the others could be as forgiving.

"Also," Katie's voice broke through her thoughts, "Best friends are obligated to tell one another everything. Especially, when one best friend recently had, what looked like, a possible fight between her boyfriend."

"I'm guessing that's your less than subtle way of saying give you the details."

"Alright, since you're obviously not into the whole subtlety thing…give me the details." Summer grinned as her friend's comfortingly familiar giggling filled her ear. She sighed, deeply.

"Well…" she started.

"Summer," her mother's voice resounded from outside her door, followed by a short series of vicious poundings on said wooden obstruction.

"It'll have to be some other time," she whispered to Katie, "I'll call you tonight…later, maybe?"

"Why? What's going on?"

"I have a meeting with a Harvard alumnus," Summer answered, rolling her eyes, then calling, "I'll be one minute, mother."

"Alright. I'll be waiting with bated breath by my phone. Call me the minute you get back in," Katie exclaimed, "Bye…um…should we have nicknames for each other? What with being best friends and all?"

"Well, we do, don't we? Posh?" Summer replied, giggling. She could visualize the broad grin in place across her friend's face.

"I'll catch you later then, eh, Tink?"

"Yeah, later." Summer hung the phone up, falling onto her back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. That went better than she thought it would. Her mother pounded the door once more, shaking her back to reality and her current priority.

END A/N: WOW! I love the next chapter that's coming up...this chapter, not so much. But it's important to the plotline. I hope Katie's easy forgiving of Summer was believable, she just...she really wants the friendship with Summer to work out. Her relationship with Summer is really important to her, but I get into that later...

I forgot to mention, last chapter...I don't know if anyone noticed, but Summer's POV in her thoughts changed. It actually signifies something. It wasn't just a whim, or sudden alteration in writing style. And I also don't know if anybody caught it, but when different characters are "thinking", they all think in different POV, which are significant to their character. I'll fill you in: Summer, until chapter nine, always thought in Second Person ("you"). It almost gave an accusatory feel to her thoughts, at least, that was my hope for it. Freddy always "thinks" in third person (he references himself in "thought" as "he"). Which is supposed to show that he kind of thinks of himself on an outside level. Kind of...less important...or...god I can't explain it. He doesn't really "think" directly about himself. And Katie, the only other one it would seem that's had "thought" moments, "thinks" in first person. Which takes me back to the significance of Summer's switch in though POV. Hm...you know what...ten points to whoever can figure out why I pulled that switcheroo in POV...why it's important. What does the change in POV signify about her character? Anyone? Anyone?

Now...this chapter...um...YAY! Dewey/Freddy conversation. Totally fun. I love giving Dewey this almost "fatherly" position in the band. He kind of looks at them as "his kids", if you didn't get that from the conversation. And the crack about "You talk to Katie too much..." well, you probably haven't picked up on it in the story, but Katie is kind of the environmentalist, feminist, Greenpeace, save the earth, make peace not war, gal. At least, that's the kind of character I'm pushing her as...and all that stuff Dewey mentioned about those countries and people...it's true. Sad, huh? My uncle and his wife are going to adopt a little girl from China. Man, I hope that conversation made sense...

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors. REVIEW!

And, Thanks for Reading! Yay! Today's my day off...I have...homework to do...bummer.

Umm...AJ is the name of a Backstreet Boy...right? He's a real nowhere man...