A/N: Thank God this chapter is over 1000 words...When they're under it like eats away at my soul even though my English teacher always says "it's quality, not quantity, that makes the writer" I don't think the quality is all that great. Therefore, quantity is all I have going for me. Oh yeah it's really early sorry if this and my review answers are garbled and unreadable...Oh review so I have more to respond to, please! The little purple button down there needs some love!

wdbydoglvr: Oh my God Grissom is totally the CSI pimp! He'll work with anybody! Except...hmm...Mia! Ew! I will forever have that disgusting image implanted in my brain. Yeah, Lady H is my fave out-of-lab character, too. Lady Heather's Box is my second favorite episode, yay for Grissom sex! And I can totally understand about review-ranting, I do it all the time...As you can see by this answer.

Silver Hair Fox: Well, K was really good so I'll never try to make you take a break again. Or maybe I will...Muahahahaha! Oh, I found the worst pic of George Eads, I just have to tell you about it, it was great! He played Evel in the movie "Evel Knievel" so he had like the sparkly bike suit and the gross '80s hair and stuff...It was pretty nasty. Kisses!

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"Turns out I'm not having a birthday party," Sara said glumly in homeroom that Thursday. It was two days until May first, and Mrs. Peterson was sick, so she couldn't decorate or bake for Sara's first birthday in their care.

"Don't worry, Sara, you can have it another time!" Nick's voice was cheerful. "My birthday's in June and once I couldn't have a party. I waited utnil October and put together a great party! It was a blast!"

Sara smiled a little. She could completely picture Nick throwing a party four months after his birthday. "Yeah, that sounds cool. Maybe in September I'll have a nice, quiet birthday." She stood up from the table and walked out of class to the bathroom. She had been looking at Mia (who'd snuck into Mrs. Wells' homeroom), her delicate fingers clasped gently in Warrick's strong hand. She noticed the perfect curves of her friend's body, then looked down at her own straight-as-a-board figure. She'd been filled with the desire to purge herself of the ugliness she felt residing underneath her skin, in her very soul.

Locking herself in a stall, she bent down and repeated the ritual that she had grown so accustomed to. She stood up and, after leaving the bathroom, drank quickly from the water fountain, trying to rid her mouth of the acidic taste of vomit. Turning a corner, she stopped suddenly at the boy standing in front of her.

"Hello, Conrad," she said curtly, looking anywhere but in his eyes.

"Hi, Sara," Ecklie said back, equally coldly. "How are things going with you?"

"Fine, thank you." She glared at him out of her big, brown eyes, even larger in her gaunt face.

"Well, I'll be going then," Ecklie said, stepping around her and turning the corner.

After he was out of sight, Sara collapsed against a locker. A thin film of sweat had developed on her forehead, and she wiped it off with one hand, exhaling deeply, hands shaking. She couldn't help but remember the Valentine's Day, what he'd tried to do. She wasn't sure what might have happened if Catherine, Nick and Greg hadn't shown up.

Conrad Ecklie. The name sent chills up her spine, and not the good kind. He was the reason she herself, her body, her everthing. She despised the fact that she let her first kiss be parceled off to such a creep. She was forever overflowing with the need to wash away every bad attribute, to be clean and good again. Unspoiled. She felt ugly, repulsive, like the only people who would like her wouldn't be real. She looked at her pure, beautiful friends and wanted to die.

Composing herself, she walked quickly back to homeroom and sat down next to Catherine, who knew not what dirty little secrets hid behind her friend's worn-out face.

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"So," Catherine said, as soon as Sara left to use the bathroom. "We can't let her miss her first birthday as our friend just because Mrs. Peterson is sick. We have to do something about it!"

"Yeah," Mia said, a little too enthusiastically. Mrs. Wells came gliding over.

"Excuse me, but I don't believe this is your class," she said mistily, looking pointedly at Mia.

"Whoops, guess they caught me," she said to Warrick, disentangling her fingers and walking out of the classroom. "Call me!" she mouthed at Catherine from the doorway.

"I think I can get Sam to let us use his guest house. After that, we just need someone to get Sara to come," Catherine said, turning back to the group with a determined glint in her eyes.

"My grams makes awsome food," Warrick said, happy to help. "I'll ask if she can make us a cake."

"Great!" Catherine said, continuing planning with the group. Sara's return interrupted them prematurely, but they all shared a knowing look that clearly said "I'll call you tonight."

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In French, Sara sat next to Heather, glad to know someone. "How's all the tranferring, catching up on stuff going?" she asked, trying not to gape at the amount of skin Heather's outfit was baring. She was in a short, plaid skirt with a black bustier and fishnets. Sara wanted to ask how she managed to pick outfits and do make-up in the morning and still arrive on-time, but that seemed rude.

Heather looked up from the French textbook. She was already nearly caught up with the class, she seemed to have a gift with languages. "It's alright," she said. "I'm glad to have met some nice people, at least." A smile played across her full lips, and she turned to face Sara, ignoring the teacher entirely. "Have you had a bad week? You look like you need a relaxing bath..."

Sara rolled her eyes inwardly, but put a cheery smile on for Heather. "It's been really stressful, I mean, I get my semester scores tomorrow, and I've been trying to plan my birthday party which has come crashing down around my ears."

Heather looked skeptical for a moment, but the look vanished and lights danced behind her eyes. "You really should treat yourself to a spa day, paint your nails, stick cucumbers over your eyes or read a book in the bath tub. I think it would do you some good. I like to say, 'Your body is a temple. Why don't you treat it like one?' You're very pretty, Sara, why not celebrate it?"

Sara sighed, wishing she could tell Heather exactly how she treated her body, but restrained herself. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind," she said, suddenly wanting to take a bath and paint her nails. "Maybe that's not such a dumb idea," she thought, smiling at Heather and turning back to Mr. Duval, who was conjugating verbs on the blackboard.

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"So, we're all meeting tomorrow after school to get the place ready?" Catherine asked. Everyone except Sara was in one giant phone conversation, starting with Cat using three-way calling to talk to Nick and Greg at the same time. They'd each three-wayed someone else, branching out until they had everyone together. Even Heather had joined in, saying she'd love to help set up.

"Yes." The word came, jumbled, from everyone at the same time.

"And what will we be telling Sara if she wants to hang out with us after school?" Cath was taking the birthday party seriously, wanting to surprise her friend and do the best job she could.

Everyone listed off their excuses at once, making all of the words inaudible. "Good. Talk to you at school!" Hanging up her phone, Catherine went back to her homework, absentmindedly doodling on a piece of paper and hoping that her plan would be a success.

Sara, meanwhile, had just leaned back in a steaming bath, a book on the radiator next to the tub in case she wanted to read, two cucumber slices over her eyes. "Heather really knows what she's talking about," she thought, sinking lower into the bubbles and smiling to herself.