A/N: So, I know I promised review answers today, but I can't do them. Instead, I'd like to make a public apology to my dear friend, Nikki. I asked her for help on a chapter of my fanfiction, and I had these really weird and complex rules to follow. So when she gave me the chapter she'd written I kind of criticized it, and we got in a fight. This is my shameless confession. I'm incredibly sorry, Nikki, and I hope that we can just put this in the past and get on with our lives, because a good friendship is way too important to lose over something as dumb as this.

XoXoXoXoX

Catherine jumped as the bell sounded. It was the last day of school before Spring Break, a Friday in mid-April. They were all in homeroom, which had been last period that day. She stood quickly, running pell-mell with the rest of the group down over the blacktop and into the street, collapsing in a giggling heap of arms and legs on the lawn of an old lady who lived across from the school.

Sara was the first to disentangle herself, mostly from Greg's and Nick's arms, which had been wrapped around her waist. She stood up and addressed the group at large. "How are we going to celebrate our new-found freedom?" she asked.

To everyone's surprise, it was Jim who spoke up. "Let's get ice cream. On me."

Indeed, it was the perfect day for ice cream. A cool breeze fiddled with Sara's hair as she waiting for the rest of her friends to get up. Birds were singing, the sun was shining, and a few early flowers had burst into full bloom already. Seasonal tourists had already started flocking to Vegas's many casinos, taking pictures on street corners with guys dressed like Elvis and losing half their money in one night at the blackjack table.

As they walked along, no one spoke. They were migrating to an old-fashioned ice cream shop about ten blocks from McKinley high, a fifties-style diner with everything except the poodle skirts. As Jim walked, he thought about Natasha. Neither she, nor Archie and Mia were with the group, as they'd left straight after homeroom. "I hope she doesn't look for me," he thought worriedly. "I'll make it up to her later. We have all week to hang out, have fun, go see movies..."

His thoughts were interrupted by Catherine pushing open the door. Bells that hung on the inside of the door jangled at the gust of wind from outside, and he walked in after the rest of the group, choosing a seat at a booth in the back corner.

Once they had all ordered and gotten their various ice creams, Greg struck up a conversation. "Name everything you think of when you hear the word flannel."

Catherine was first to speak. "Fire, snow, grunge music, and lumberjacks," she said promptly, grinning proudly at her list of things.

Gil smiled at her. She was so spontaneous, that's what he loved about her. "No," he corrected himself. "I don't love it. I find it interesting. We're still just friends no matter how attractive she is, how adorable she looks when she's thinking, how her poems make me want to hold her tight and block out the world, reassure her..." Gil blushed and busied himself by thinking of flannel-y things.

"Harry Potter, trips to the hospital, and getting up at four in the morning to watch the sunrise," he blurted out.

After everyone had shared their increasingly radical things that flannel reminded them of, Jim got up to pay the bill. "Here," Catherine said, thrusting a crumpled five dollar bill at him. Bits of pocket lint were stuck all over it. He took it delicately and went up to pay.

XoXoXoXoX

After the group had disbanded on the street, Greg and Nick were walking together alone. Their houses were relatively close to one another, so they often found themselves walking home together.

About fifteen blocks from Nick's house, Greg started a conversation. "I wrote Sara this love letter, but I didn't have the balls to give it to her. Now I can't find it, which I guess is an omen or something."

Nick tried to look politely puzzled, but failed miserably. Greg rolled his eyes. "I know that you know that we both like Sara. We should just get that out in the open before we die of the tension."

Nick sighed. "You're probably right. We can't tell her, though." Greg shook his head vehemently.

"Of course not," he said. "I thought that was a given."

They walked a little in silence, until Greg spoke again. "I just told you because I think I've...Fallen for her. All the way, you know?"

Nick nodded. "Whatever you're feeling, it can't compare to me. Every time I see her I want to scream at the top of my lungs how much I love her. I want to write her poetry and throw waffles at her window late at night so she's the last thing I see before I sleep."

Greg's ears had turned a faint shade of pink. "What, you think just because I don't want to throw waffles at her window means I don't love her as much as you do. What's wrong with you?" Greg didn't fully expect an answer, but he got one anyway.

Nick's fist collided with the side of Greg's jaw, almost making him fall. He regained his balance and threw a fist into Nick's face. Almost immediately a yellowish purple bruise began to form around Nick's left eye. Ignoring it, he punched greg hard in the stomach and ran the rest of the way home, leaving his once best friend lying on the sidewalk, only mostly conscious, spitting blood out when he tasted it, coppery and metallic, in his mouth.

Nick slammed the door to his bedroom and turned the lock. He leaned against the door and slid down, sitting against it, his barrier to keep out the rest of the world. So many emotions coursed through his veins, crowding each other, bursting to get out, to take over his mind and get control over his descisions.

Pity, for himself. Love, for Sara. Spite against Greg. Sadness at losing his best friend. His mind was bursting with confusion, and he wondered what he could do to fix things. Nothing would be the same with Greg. He almost considered going back to help his fallen friend, to take him home and apologize, to forget about the whole thing.

"There's no way that'll ever happen," Nick said aloud. Unlocking his door, he made his way down the hall and knocked calmly on his sister, Danielle's door.

"Hey, Nicky, what's up?" she asked, turning off the loud sound of Cheap Trick when she saw he brother's face. "What happened to you? You got a pretty bad shiner shaping up. Good thing it's Spring Break. Now tell me what happened."

Nick slumped down on the floor, shutting the door as he did so. "I got in a fight."

"Well I can see that," Danielle said sarcastically. "I mean, what was it about?"

"Sara..." Nick said simply. Around the time of the Sleepy Hollow production, Nick had confided in his older sister about his feelings for Sara, and she'd provided good advice then, too. "Greg finally out and said that he liked her, and we got into this argument and I hit him. Then I left him on the sidewalk, I don't know if he's conscious."

"Wait here," she said quickly, pulling on a pair of beat-up, blue sneakers and hurrying out of the room.

She returned half an hour later, and found Nick in the same position as when she'd left. "I went to see him. He took a hell of a fall, but he'll be fine. He was still on the sidewalk, though. I think you got out better with your black eye."

Nick nodded thoughtfully. He looked up, concentrating on his sister. "What do I do? How am I going to fix things with him and still be able to try to get Sara?"
"Don't refer to her as an object, dear brother," Danielle said. "You want to win her over, but you also want to repair your friendship with Greg. It's an interesting dilemma, and I can only tell you this. Let me sleep on it, I'll get back to you."

In spite of himself, Nick smiled and rolled his eyes. "Alright. Thanks."

XoXoXoXoX

A/N: There. My fight chapter. I'll try to post more regularly but I'm taking tomorrow off. I'll be having a TON of homework. Literally. Like two-thousand pounds or whatever. So review me and I'll be happy.

Maddy