A/N: Taking a different approach with this chapter and alternate POV's from time to time, because now Mimi, Roger, Maureen, and Mark won't be all in the same place at the same time. Hope you like! Other notes: Ridgemont High homeroom starts at 7:45 AM. I am also, for once, showing what happens in New York before Rhode Island! Gasp! Shock! Chapter 9 is dedicated to Rave, who graduated yesterday, and who I will sorely miss when she leaves. I'm sorry this chapter is so late. Kudos bars go to my fabulous reviewers, even the negative ones, because a review is a review! (Hands Rave, Jello, Renthead, IshouldTellYou, cordyangel, Total RENTHEAD, wolfonline, lukeandloreleilvr, Roger Davis' Muse, and An Anonymous Soul kudos bars)
An Anonymous Soul: Freshman year, my friends went out trick-or-treating as Teen Girl Squad. I (Miranda) was The Ugly One. Tara was So-and-So. (We didn't have a Cheerleader, and What's Her Face was Sir Not Appearing in this Fanfic, aka Alexandra).Thanks for all of your support guys. REVIEW!

Chapter Nine: OMG! Condom!

New York, that night

"...and that's what happened when I landed face first in the mud after nearly colliding with Lacey Lockhart during soccer practice yesterday," Christine finished.

"Well Christine, your random story was just long enough to pass the time, because now we're already at the loft!" Collins announced.

"That's good. Sorry Christine, but I don't know if I can hear another one of your stories, Christine- especially if it's about that bitch Lacey," Miranda remarked.

"Why do you guys hate that girl so much again?" Collins asked as they walked up the stairs to the loft.

"Well, let's see- she's a complete bitch, she went with Tedd Determan to homecoming when she knew that Miranda was planning to ask him, and she didn't have to anyway because she was still going out with that kid from Fairfield," Tara explained.

"Come on, guys. Lacey said it was an accident. I'm not that mad at her," Christine said.

"Well, if we were actually in our own bodies right now, I would go right over to her house and punch her in the face for what she did to you!" Tara shouted.

"...you know, speaking of that, let's check on how the TV is doing," Collins said as he opened the door to the loft. "Don't worry, I won't go near it. I just want to see if we can get the SciFi channel- I hear they're having a marathon of Mystery Science Theater 3000!"

(A/N: In my universe, MST3K was never cancelled. Plus, depending on how many years post-Rent this actually is, it actually might have still been on the air!)

"Um, Collins, shouldn't you be worried more about getting us back home than a stupid TV show?" Christine asked. Everyone gasped.

"MST3K IS NOT A STUPID TV SHOW!" Miranda shouted. Everyone stared at her. "Well, someone needed to say it."

"Fine then. I was unaware that I made some kind of capital offense by denouncing a TV show. Anyway, if you guys want to watch your TV show, I think I should be the one to try to fix the TV," Christine suggested.

"But then you'll get switched... ah, I see what you're thinking," Collins said. "You think that you'll get switched back if you try to fix the TV!"

"Once again, Christine continues to show more rationality than any of us. It's a win/win situation. If she switches back, so can all of us, and if she doesn't, the TV will still be fixed and we can all watch MST3K. Yay!" Miranda exclaimed.

"Thanks for the encouragement. Now, if only there wasn't so much dust back here behind the TV, maybe I could see what's wrong with the wires."

"Sorry about all that shit behind there. Ever since Joanne moved to California to be part of that big law firm and stopped cleaning around here, this place has gotten messier," Collins explained.

"Wait, who's Joanne?" Miranda asked.

"Maureen's ex-girlfriend. They broke up after Joanne's company transferred her to a law firm in California. Neither of them could do the long distance thing, and after Maureen started going back to Mark for a little while, she and Joanne broke it off," Collins said nonchalantly. Miranda stared at him.

"Wait, you mean she was a lesbian?" Miranda asked. "I mean, I'm fine with that, it's not like I'm homophobic or anything, it's just...wow."

"At least you're not a guy," Tara said reassuringly.

"True. Christine, how are you doing with that TV?" Miranda asked.

"It's a bit harder than I thought. There's so much stuff back here...OMG! A condom!" Christine exclaimed. Everyone in the room burst out laughing.

"This week's sign of the apocalypse: Christine uses txt tlk in everyday speech, AND comes as close to a condom as she'll ever be!" Miranda said sarcastically.

"Hey! Stop thatt! I'd like to see you try to make any sense of this!" Christine challenged.

"Ok, fine, I was just trying to get some humor out of this situation," Miranda said. "Normally it's Tara who's trying to do that, but currently she's too concerned with how she's going to survive in a scrawny Jewish boy's body for however long it takes us to get out of here..." Tara threw a random pillow at Miranda.

"Oh, would you shut up for once! This isn't Comedy Central. Just because you got the best deal out of all of us doesn't mean that you can act like you have all the answers!" Tara shouted.

"I have all the answers? Why aren't you saying that about Christine? She's the one who usually does, anyway!" Miranda yelled.

"Why does everyone say that about me, anyway?" Christine asked, a little softer than Miranda and Tara's yells.

"Um, let's see: perfect attendance five years running, captain of the soccer team, highest average in the eighth grade, 100 on Mr. Babbit's insanely hard test, which I failed..." Miranda listed.

"So? I don't even know how to fix this TV!"

"That's ok! You're clearly the master of arcane knowledge among all of us- excluding Collins, but he probably doesn't want to touch the TV because he thinks he'll end up in Rhode Island. Who cares if you've never fixed a TV before? It's a win/win situation, like I said before. The only thing better than a win/win situation is a win/win/win situation, where I also win because I've overseen a successful TV rewiring! What could possibly go wrong?" Miranda innocently asked. Christine stared at her.

"Um, Miranda, haven't you noticed that whenever you say 'what could possibly go wrong' or something of that nature, the worst thing that could possibly happen at that time happens?" Christine asked her.

"No. You're just being paranoid, Christine. Lighten up for once!" Miranda suggested. Suddenly the lights in the loft flickered on and off, and then became dark.

"The power blows," Collins announced.

"Christine! What did you do!" Tara exclaimed.

"I don't know. I'm guessing that the ominous-looking big red wire that I unplugged from the TV was important somehow," Christine admitted.

"Um, duh. Everyone knows that when you pull an ominous-looking big red wire from a TV, the power goes off," Miranda explained.

"Miranda, I highly doubt that's true. If it was, then the power would come back on when I plugged the wire back in," Christine said.

"Well, why don't you plug it back in already?" Miranda said.

"I will, I just have to find it- " Christine said, but was then interrupted by a shrill beeping noise.

"AZT break," Collins said, reaching for Mimi's beeper. "Christine and Steve, there's something I have to tell you..."

RhodeIsland, the next morning (Thursday)

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEEEEEEEEP!

Mimi's head felt as it had been run over by two dump trucks, and then consecutively pounded on by a jackhammer, a sledgehammer, and a regular hammer. Being woken up by an infernal beeping noise at an unreasonable hour did nothing to help that matter. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the fluorescent green glow of the numbers of a nearby digital clock. 6:00 AM.

"6:00 AM! Am I in hell?" Mimi thought. She slowly gazed at her unfamiliar surroundings, remembering the events of the day before. "No, just Rhode Island." Mimi determined that the beeping noise was coming from the digital clock. She hit the snooze button and drifted back to sleep.

---------------------------------------

Lauren woke up to the blaring of WCCM radio at 6:30 AM. Forgetting about the events of the day before, she went to wake up Miranda, who was sleeping in a separate bed beside her in the room that she and Miranda shared.

"Miranda! Wake up!" Lauren said, hitting Maureen with a pillow.

"Wha? It's early! Why are you waking me up?" Maureen asked, confused. Then she remembered.

"Oh shit. I'm still...shit! I thought that once we all went to sleep, we would switch back," Maureen commented.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that too...that, or that I was dreaming the entire thing. Guess not. Oh well, we better get ready for school. If I'm late again, I'm up for my third suspension this month!" Lauren said.

"Wait. You mean you're just going to go on like nothing happened while I'm still confused?"

"Yes. Like I said, I'm pushing for my third suspension here. Normally I just push snooze on my alarm and don't wake up until 7:30."

"Man, how I wish you had done that today. And three suspensions is nothing. You don't know how many times I was caught for displaying 'obscene public displays of affection' with the entire drama department at Hicksville High."

"Exactly. You've already been through high school. You can do it again. Now, I have to get into the shower." Lauren slammed the bedroom door shut.

Maureen stood in the middle of the bedroom for several minutes, pondering her situation. She could go back to sleep, but after being woken up by Lauren, she suddenly wasn't as tired. She could dutifully get dressed and ready for school, but what fun was there in that? She thought about what Lauren said to her.

"You've already been through high school. You can do it again."

Maureen got an idea. If she really got to do this whole high school thing over again, she should make it worth her while. Do all the things that she never got to do before, which wasn't much, considering all the times she had been caught kissing/fucking Jamie Handelman (and, later, his twin sister, Erica) in the janitor's closet, the chemical fumes from the various cleaning products sending them both into a state of delirium. Hell, if she could survive high school then, she might as well have some fun this time around. How hard could it be?

-------------------

Mark awoke to a sea of pink. The walls were painted pink. Posters of Clueless and Bring it On graced the walls. It took Mark's eyes some time to adjust to the unfamiliar color scheme of the room.

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." Mark thought. He slowly gazed at his new surroundings and looked into a full-length mirror across from the bed that he had fallen asleep in the night before after Mel's party. Even though Mark knew that he had switched bodies with a girl, he was still extremely shocked at what he saw in the mirror: a teenaged girl with long strawberry-blonde hair that hung past her shoulders, with perfectly manicured fingernails and gold stud earrings in each ear. He looked over to the hot pink clock hanging on the wall. 6:45 AM. Why, exactly, had he woken up that early? He didn't know. He didn't care. Maybe if he fell back to sleep, this whole thing would right itself. He sunk his head deep into the pillow and closed his eyes.

----------------

"Stephen Alfred Brooks! You haul yourself out of bed this instant, young man! You certainly have some explaining to do!"

Roger was confused. After he had been directed to his house, he wasn't allowed to go to Mel's party because he had a chess club match. Having never played a game of chess in his life, Roger did what he often did when he was a teenager: spewed a set of choice words at his "mother," ran out of the house, and made his way to the nearest bar. One thing he hadn't been counting on, though, was Steve not having a fake ID, as Roger did when he was a teenager. Angry, Roger stormed out of the bar, and, finding not much else to do, returned to his "house," where he was immediately subjecting to a harsher talking-to than his own mother had ever given him when he was a teen. He tuned himself out through all of the "what's gotten into you" and "unacceptable behaviors" and "wait until your father gets home" and "you're acting just like your brother," right up until the "go straight up to bed!" all while trying to figure out how to get back in his own body.

After the final word was uttered by his "mother," Roger slowly trudged up a long set of stairs, his mind still working more tirelessly than it had in ages, when he suddenly heard a thumping bass line, searing vocals, and the rhythms of guitar and percussion filled his ears. He followed the music until he came to a door with a huge KEEP OUT sign on it. He pushed open the door, ignoring the sign and found a bedroom painted entirely in black, with posters of The Who and The Clash lining the walls. Two beds sat on either side of the room, which was a pigsty.

An unmatched blue sock draped over a lampshade. A guitar case was sticking out from under one of the beds at an odd angle. A skateboard leaned against a bureau. A white bath towel was slung over an open closet door, which had more clutter pouring out of it. On the bedside table sat a leaning tower of CD's, with The Who's Who's Next at the top. To top it all off, a wastebasket full to the brim with books sat next to the bed. Roger was shocked. For once, someone's room was messier than his in New York! He would have to tell Mark about this...where was Mark, anyway? Roger hadn't seen him since they tried to fix the TV in New York. Suddenly, Roger's thoughts were interrupted when a tall teenage boy, who was singing along with the Rolling Stones while trying to get a discolored stain out of the carpet, began to speak.

"Hey, little bro! How many times do I have to tell you to read the sign and leave me alone? Mom wants my room clean before Nick comes home this weekend."

"Uh..." Roger said, confused. He had no idea what to say.

"What, is my music too loud for you or something? Do you have to study? Would you rather I play Mozart? Stop bugging me," the boy said mockingly.

"No, I like the music. Do you have Sticky Fingers with you? I haven't heard "Brown Sugar" in ages," Roger requested. The teenager, who Roger deduced to be his "brother," looked amazed.

"Wait, you want to listen to one of my CD's? Willingly? Steve, is this really you?"

Roger chuckled. If only he knew how true his words were...

/flashback

Roger quickly drifted out of that memory when his "mother's" voice grew more urgent. He trudged downstairs, looking at the black watch that was still wrapped around his wrist. 6:50 on the dot. He groaned. On a normal day, he wouldn't have woken up until 9 at the earliest. But, he reminded himself, this definitely was not a normal day.

---------

"Sweetie? Are you sick? You're never late, so I thought something was up. Unless you're about to die, I would suggest that you not stay home. You wouldn't want to ruin your perfect attendance award chances! After all, you have won it for the past 5 years running. Now, you have Mathletes after school, remember. Also, when did you get home last night? You told me you were going to Melanie's party, but you didn't say when you would get back. Ah, well, I'm sure it was at a reasonable hour. I didn't hear anything. Come on, sweetie, get up. You don't want to be late. It's already 7!"

Mimi was speechless. She had barely processed what her "mother" had said, as she was still extremely tired. Mathletes? Perfect attendance? She slowly opened her eyes. Her bedroom was full of framed awards and certificates. Perfect attendance. First place at the 25th Annual Ridgemont County Spelling Bee. MVP of the soccer team. Highest average in the eighth grade. Mimi seriously considered going back to bed, but couldn't, because her "mother" was standing over her bed, waiting for her to get up. Mimi sighed. "This will all be over soon." she thought. "I hope."