A/N: Okay, this chapter will be longer than the last one. Track is over, so I have WAY more free time to write. Also, this is the chapter y'all have been waiting for… the Thanksgiving play! If anyone can guess what movie I got the inspiration for this, you get a cookie of your choice and mentioned in the next chapter. And balloons. Can't forget the balloons. And, due to FF.N's new rule thingummy about song lyrics, in the event that this fic gets banned (because in chapter eight, I used a song by Franz Ferdinand), you can still view it at my Live Journal/website.

Disclaimer: I own Alicia, the plot and any of the characters you do not recognize. Everything else belongs to their respective owners.

The following morning, Tim opened his eyes and immediately wished he were still asleep. The sun's blinding light burned down on him and he was still seriously hung-over. As he rolled onto his side, he felt something warm next to him. He turned and saw Cassie. Her hair was a halo of dark frizz, she was naked and she was still fast asleep.

Oh, mother of fuck. Tim tried to remember what the hell happened the previous day. All he could think of was that he got drunk… he went to a bar and drank… something about Dallas… "oh, shit." Tim's head fell back heavily on his pillow. He remembered everything. The draft notice, talking to Cassie, having to dump Dally, going to the bar, meeting Cassie again. He didn't remember much after that, just the fact that Cassie kissed him and they went to her house. Both of her parents were gone, and they went upstairs. "Shit, shit, shit. Oh, mother fucker. What the fuck have I done?" Poor Cassie, he thought. He just used her. He used her to forget about everything.

There was a stir next to him, and Cassie's brown eyes fluttered open. "Morning," she yawned. She pulled the bed sheet around her, not wanting to show off her chest, even though they had just slept together. Tim felt an unpleasant squirm in his stomach. She was so pretty and innocent, and he used her. "Tim, what's wrong?" Her eyes were gentle and kind. Even though he wasn't over Dally, no matter what he tried to tell himself, Tim was still in love with Cassie.

"Oh, nothing. I was just… thinking."

"About Dally," Cassie finished, and she smiled, tenderly. "Tim, you did the only thing you could do. Maybe you'll find someone in the military." She said, softly, then she stood with the sheet wrapped around her. "Come on. It's almost ten, and your sisters' play is starting in a half-hour. I said that we would go."

It was a bright, crisp November day, and the play was taking place outside. The "stage" was set up on the football field and the audience sat in the bleachers. The whole school was there, as well as the parents of the performing children. As Tim had expected, his parents weren't there, but Dallas was. The blond boy made a point not to look at either of them, so Cassie and Tim wedged themselves in between a woman and her screaming child, and a fat man smoking a cigarette. "Your sister said that Dally was dating some girl in the play. Her name's Allison Bouchard. She's a Pilgrim," Cassie whispered in his ear. "And Angela said that all the Pilgrims were Socs."

"Well, that's just Angel, you know how she exaggerates and all, but I really don't-"

"Shh, it's starting!" Cassie breathed, excitedly.

The blood- red curtain rose, showing the first scene: a boat deck with the Pilgrims on it. One of them, a pretty girl with long, blonde hair darted around, giving the seasick Pilgrims remedies. "Oh, thank you so very much, Anna Baker. You are the kindest person I've ever met!" Another one declared, loudly. Tim raised his eyebrows, while Cassie suppressed her giggles beside him.

A few minutes later, the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock, and Anna went off in search of wildflowers. While doing so, she met Deer Girl, the Indian princess. For a fleeting moment, Tim was proud of his younger sister. But the moment passed, even when Cassie squeezed his hand and murmured, "your sister's really good," because Tim didn't want to think about anyone; he was too busy feeling sorry for himself. He looked down, and noticed a hole in his shirt. As he was busily picking away at it, he missed Anna befriending the Indians, the Pilgrims preparing for the feast, the Indians catching a wild turkey and the "Feasting Song."

Then there came the feast scene. The stage was decorated to look like a Pilgrim village, with a huge table in the center where all the Pilgrims were seated. Next to the table was a flagpole, bearing the British flag. Cassie nudged him -hard- and hissed that it was Angela's time to shine. Tim's sister walked onstage. Her long hair was plaited, she was dressed in fake buckskin and behind her were several Indians. "Hello, I am Deer Girl, the Indian Princess," Angela turned and flashed the audience a fake grin. "These are my people. We have brought a gift for you, Anna Baker."

A turkey waddled onstage, and a few people laughed. Tim slumped down in his seat, brutally embarrassed, because he knew that Curly, his tough-as-nails little brother, was the Thanksgiving turkey. He heard Cassie giggling a little beside him, and he suddenly envied her, because she was relaxed and she didn't have to worry about if her boyfriend was ever going to talk to her again and wasn't about to be deported to China, or wherever the hell Vietnam was. Just calm down. He told himself. Just calm the fuck down and watch the play. He took a deep breath and made himself focus on the stage.

"What a lovely gift! Why, you are as civilized as we… except we have books and schools and last names. Welcome to our table." Rose gestured to the bench and motioned for them to sit.

Angela gave her another fake smile. "Thank you, Anna Baker. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Your hair is like the sun, your skin is like fresh milk, and everyone loves you."

Rose seemed beside herself with glee. "Stop!" She cried, smiling. "Come, sit and feast with us."

The Indians started forward, when Angela held up her hand. "Wait," she said, and her voice became cold and hard. "We cannot eat with you." She took a deep breath. "You took the land that was once ours. Years from now, my people will be forced on the Trail of Tears, or live on reservations. You will drive nice cars and drink booze in clubs. My people will sell our foods and necklaces on the roadsides. You will have the nicest jobs and work in air-conditioned offices. We will suffer pain and degradation. You will play tennis and enjoy hot beverages. The Gods of my people have said, 'do not trust the Pilgrims… especially Anna Baker.'"

Rose's eyes shifted to the right side of the stage, where her teacher was seated. "Ms. Narwin… she's changing the words…"

At that moment, Alicia walked onstage. She had donned a pair of buckskin pants and a tight, cut-off buckskin shirt. Her hair was tied back and braided with feathers. War paint was smeared on her cheeks, and in her left hand was a tomahawk and in her right was a dagger. She looked like an Indian warrior princess, as she stood proudly and looked straight at Rose. "And for all these reasons, we have decided to scalp you, and burn your village to the ground."

The other Indians grabbed Rose and tied her to the flagpole, while one of them pulled down the flag. He handed it to Alicia, who pulled out her cigarette lighter and set it on fire before throwing it on the stage. Some of the teachers and parents just stood, shocked by the display, some looked mildly amused, while others jumped to fight the Indians, who, in turn, fought back. Some held the teachers and outraged parents at bay with knives, arrows and tomahawks. The others pulled out matches and lighters to light the Pilgrims' houses on fire, while some tied the remaining Pilgrims up.

Alicia grabbed a few wooden planks and hay from the houses and set them around Rose's feet. Then, she shoved a large wad of paper in Rose's mouth, because, as she explained later, 'fuck, the screaming was driving me up the wall!' Curly had taken off his costume and was busily setting fire to another one of the Pilgrim houses, and soon was joined by Alicia.

In a way, Tim was proud of his siblings. They had enough of being treated like shit for being poor, and now they did something about it. The whole ordeal was most likely Angela's idea. She was the brains, cunning and sly, and Alicia was the brawn, strong and iron-willed. Together they made a great team. And, for a moment, he forgot all about Dally and Vietnam. He was glad he came, as he sat and felt a strong sense of satisfaction that the Socs got what was coming to them.

In the midst of all the chaos and fire, Angela stood, watching with a smug smile on her face. Slowly, she turned and looked at Rose. Her eyes lit up and she walked forward. From her shoe, she pulled out a switchblade and made a sweeping gesture to Rose's head. Of course, they didn't scalp Rose. Angela cut the girl's long, golden hair close to her head, but she didn't really scalp her.

After that, Ms. Narwin never wanted to have her class re-enact the first Thanksgiving. For that matter, she was never going to let her class re-enact anything. She didn't do anything while Alicia and Angela completely destroyed the play. All she did was sit and watch in shock and fascination. Then she got up and went away, wanting someone to make her a very stiff drink.

When the fire died down, the three youngest Shepards disappeared. Soon, Tim and Cassie left. Cassie had tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks as they climbed into Tim's truck, and she continued to laugh, even as they drove down the street to her house. "That was pretty good, wasn't it, Tim? Aren't you glad you went?"

"Uh, yeah. Cassie, I just wanted to tell you… sorry."

Cassie cocked her head. "For what? You came with me."

"No… I mean… for last night, ya know? I used you. And I'm sorry."

Cassie laughed again. "Tim, you didn't use me. I did that to help you get over Dallas. It was, in reality, my fault."

"What?"

She sighed. "Tim, I wanted to help you. So, I slept with you. You were a fucking wreck." They were in her driveway. "Bye," she said, and she kissed his cheek as she jumped out of the car and ran up her stairs.

Tim closed his eyes as she walked away, and inhaled deeply. "Enough," he said as he pulled away. "Enough now."

Angela was in the shower. She had been in for at least an hour, and the water was getting cold. Not caring, she poured a large amount of vanilla-scented shampoo on her hand as she washed her hair for the thousandth time. She had a date in an hour and a half, and she wanted to look her best.

Shutting the water off, she wrapped a towel around her, and another around her hair and she walked out of the bathroom. Waiting outside the door was Curly, and he looked about ready to piss his pants. She smirked at him and said, "all yours." She spent the next hour in her room, putting on her makeup and changing her outfit at least a dozen times. When she was finally ready, she looked stunning and she knew it.

When she walked down the stairs to wait for Bryon to pick her up, she saw Tim sitting on the couch, and she frowned slightly. He was being unusually quiet, and was actually sitting and watching Breakfast at Tiffany's with Alicia instead of yelling at her to "turn that shit off!" He had been quiet and looked tired since ever since he got his notice. Curly had left somewhere, and Angela seriously hoped that she wouldn't run into him on her date. Curly really knew how to kill a moment.

She sat next to Alicia for a while, when she heard a car horn honk. "Gotta go!" She said, and sprinted out the door, leaving Alicia and Tim alone.

"Tim? You okay?" Alicia asked, timidly.

He snapped out of his reverie. "Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem really quiet lately."

"So?" He barked at her. "Since when do you care how I am?"

"I care because I'm fucking your sister and you've just been really weird lately. I care because I'm worried about you. You're not even bitching about me watching this movie. I know that you hate Audrey Hepburn." Then, with a softer edge to her voice, she asked again, "what's wrong?"

"I'm not telling you; now leave me the fuck alone!" He shouted.

Alicia almost smiled, but restrained herself. "Temper, Timmy, temper. You really need to chill the hell out." Tim shot her a death-glare, but that seemed to provoke her. She sat closer. "Is it something about Dally? C'mon, you can tell me."

Then he hit her. Hard. Clutching her burning arm, she swung her fist and cracked him on the face. "Bastard!" She shouted. Tim only laughed. Infuriated, Alicia stalked out of the room, more determined than ever to find out what was wrong with Tim.

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