"Get out of there!" Original Cindy exclaimed, pulling the covers off of Max. Max shook her head 'no' and burrowed deeper into the sheets. "You're getting out today," Cindy told her. "You're getting out..." she pulled the second layer of comforter off, "you're going to school, then, you're going to meet-and-greet with Jonas Cale..." she ripped a top sheet off, finally getting closer to getting to Max, "then you're going to cheer and win a lot of trophies and call Logan and tell him what he's missing out on."

Max groaned. "Logan."

Original Cindy groaned. She picked up the last five layers of blankets and pulled them off revealing Max (in the same pajamas that she'd gone to sleep in seven days ago), curled up in her bed. "You can't live off of Baby Ruth candy bars forever, Max," she said to her.

"Watch me." Sometimes, Max had to admit, being the adopted daughter of the principal of her school did have its advantages. Like when she wasn't feeling up to facing the general population and stayed in bed for a week.

"What about regionals?" OC asked.

"We're the reigning champs. We're guaranteed a full-ride anyways."

"What about school?"

"Unimportant in the long run. Two words, Cindy: trust fund."

"What about Logan?"

"Can't stand the look he's going to give me."

"What about going out to a movie?"

Max looked up at Cindy questioningly. "What movie?"

"Something romantic-comedy-ish," Original Cindy wrinkled her nose. "Where the heteros prevail in the end." Max nodded weakly.

"That sounds good," she decided.

"Great. So get out of bed and get dressed." Cindy went to the door and screamed, "Alec! Take Max to a movie! I've got a project to do for Economics!"

Max paled. "No!"

It wasn't that Max felt necessarily sinful or anything. Not for kissing Alec, no. Firstly, she wasn't remotely Christian or Catholic or Zen or whatever the hell religion believed in kissing sins.

She did feel a little guilty, though. Even if it was to make sure that Mia's dad thought that Mia wasn't being "compromised". What would Logan say? He, she knew, would never do such a thing. He would have found another way out - she should have found another way out!

"Well, well, well," Normal greeted from his desk. "If it isn't Miss Walks-In-A-Week-Late-For-Her-Shift-And-Didn't-Even-Get-A-Signature-On-Her-Last-Run! Welcome back!" he said sarcastically. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Max stopped on her way to the sitting area.

"Yeah. Am I getting benefits?" she asked bitterly.

"How many times have I told you people?" Normal demanded, ignoring her question. "Get a signature on every run! If you don't get a signature, you don't get pay!"

"Here you go, mon," Herbal Thought said, handing in a clipboard. Normal skimmed it.

"And here is one shining example!" he announced. "'Robert Marley' - see how it's written right on the signature line like it's supposed to be? That's what I'm talking about! Now get back to work! Bip-bip-bip!" he handed Max a clipboard. "Go back to your last run and get the signature."

"My last run? That was, like, ages ago!" Max complained.

"And if you'd come in on the next day, it would have only been a day ago," Normal said condescendingly. "Go! Bip! Bip!"

"I'm getting sick and tired of those 'bips'," Max muttered under her breath as she grabbed her bicycle and pedaled out to the address.

By the time Max had ridden all the way out to the address on the clipboard, she'd already switched around the situation in her head.

Alec was the bad guy for not knowing who Gerhardt Bronck was, obviously. He was the one who kissed her to save his own ass. It wasn't her fault. It couldn't be her fault. His fault. All his fault.

Max rung the buzzer and the gate to the huge (giant! humongus! incredibly large!) house clicked open. She went through, leaving her bike at the gate, and knocked on the door. It was answered by a maid (the house was so huge, it had to have maids; this one's work description was probably made up of "open the door" and she still made more than Max!)

"May I help you?" the maid asked.

"Yeah, I delivered a package here a few weeks ago and I forgot to get a signature," Max said, handing her the clipboard. The maid nodded.

"Mr. Berrisford's in his office. I'll be right back." She hurried away down the hall, giving Max time to look around the interior of the (really big) house. Sometimes when it came right down to it, nosiness surpassed courtesy. Besides, the maid wouldn't be back for at least ten minutes judging by the size of the house.

She stepped inside of the house, admiring the floor (wood - and waxed to perfection), the cieling (with a chandelier hanging down from it) the wood panelling on the wall, and the portrait at the end of the hall. Two parents and a kid - as usual in this type of home.

800,000 square foot house - two parents, one kid and a whole lot of domestic help (and maybe a pony, too). Max wondered if this was Mia's summer residence or something and they just rented it out to people during the year. The girl in the portrait was brunette, afterall.

Her cell phone rang. This was just great. She was roaming, and she sure wasn't going to waste any of her anytime minutes for a call that wasn't even out of her service provider in the first place.

Max clicked the "ignore" button and ran back down the hallway to the door as the maid's footsteps echoed in the house.

"Here you go," the maid said, handing her the clipboard.

"Thanks. You wouldn't happen to have a phone, would you?" Max asked.

"Sure. It's in the parlor down that hall," the maid told her, pointing to the right. Max smiled.

"Thanks again."

The living room (okay, parlor) was about the size of the entire downstairs of Max's house, filled with decadent expensive Italian-looking furniture like leather sofas, a marble coffee table, and in one corner a small table with a telephone on it.

"Great!" Max travelled across the room and picked up the phone. She dialed Original Cindy's phone number and waited as the line connected.

"Max!"

"Alec, what the hell are you - why the hell - why didn't you call on your number?" Max demanded. "I would have known not to pick up!" there was a pause on the other line.

"Sorry," he said in a low voice. Low voices (from Max's previous experience, anyways) usually indicated one of two things - sadness or lust. Max hoped to God it was the former.

"Stop it!" Max said. "You're not allowed to do that!"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel sorry and guilty and - just stop it!" Max sighed. Bad aura in - oooh, grr! She meant 'bad aura OUT; good aura IN'. It was a yoga-Chinese-feng-shui sorta thing. Jondy taught her it. "What'd you call me for?"

"You have to - " there was the sound of yelling in the background. "Get back home now."

"I can't, genius, I'm working," Max hissed. "It's that thing that you do when you're not filthy stinkin' rich and spoiled with six cars -"

"Five, and - " a crash. "Really, you have to get back."

"What's going on?" Max asked.

"Y-Y-Your parents," Alec whispered fearfully. "They've gone insane."

"So, what's new?" Max said sarcastically.

"They found Sketchy smoking some of his back-up stash with some girl."

"What girl?"

"I don't know! Some girl!"

"What girl?"

"Max, I only have memory enough to keep track of the last three girls I've do - dated. What makes you think I can really remember Sketchy's conquests?" Alec asked. "Linda or Lisa or something like that," he said as a pathetic attempt to remember.

"Lydia?" Max asked.

"Uh..."

"Blonde? Blue eyes? Built like a smaller Zack?"

"Yeah, that's the one!" Alec said.

"Dammit!" Max swore. "What's happening now?"

"Uh..." there was another pause. "Lydia and Renfro are sort of grappling on the floor... Sketchy's just sprayed them down with Febreeze to try to get them to stop... now Renfro's top's all wet and you can see her - "

"Alec!" Max yelled. "God, enough with the details. Is Cindy there?"

"She's trying to pull Lydia off of Renfro. That Lydia-chick's got some guns for a sophomore, though." Maybe Cindy wasn't a match for such a psychotic tenth-grader.

"I'll be there as soon as possible," Max promised. "There's mace in my room under my pillow - use it in case Lydia goes towards the knives and tell Sketchy to call the cops."

"Mace - pillow - knives - cops - got it!" Alec repeated in a rush. "Hurry, bye."

"Bye, Alec."

A/N: Like I said, Sketchy + trouble OTP.

Review if you want to find out what happens to Sketchy next chapter! If I get more than three reviews by five, then I'll post the next chapter today.