THIS CHAPTER WAS RE-SUBMITTED BECAUSE I ADDED FIVE PARAGRAPHS ON TO THE END OF IT. Actually, those paragraphs fit better with chapter 10 (which I'm working on), but the way chapter 10 is going it's going to be about 6 pages on Word, instead of my usual three.

First of all, I am SO sorry that this took so long to get out. Please don't kill me!

Also, I lied. Again. This isn't the last chapter. I really thought it would be, but then I realized that if I kept going it would be REALLY long, and I have a weird phobia of long chapters. But I'm sorry that this is so short.

But you can still REVIEW anyway when you're done! (That includes, but is not limited to, people I know personally. Aka honeybear and shampster)

I don't own RENT.

During first period, I finally worked up the nerve to talk to Amy. But since class had already started, I figured it would be easier to write her a note. I got out a pen and a scrap piece of paper from my notebook, but ended up staring at the blank piece of paper for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, I began to write.

Amy-

First of all, I'm sorry that I lied to you about my parents. But I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me at all that they're gay, so if you're my friend, it shouldn't matter to you either. But I do think that you're a good person, so I'd still like to be friends with you. But if you can't accept my parents, that I can't accept you.

-Carlie

Before I had time to regret what I had just done, I tapped Amy on the shoulder (she sat in front of me), and carefully passed her the note without Mrs. Ralley seeing it. I could tell that Amy was surprised to be getting something from me, but she took the note anyway, slowly unfolded it, and read it.

Amy stared at the note for a moment with her mouth slightly open, as if she was surprised that I'd actually had the nerve to tell her that. Then slowly, I saw her get out a pen, turn the paper over, and begin to write her own message. I hadn't bargained on her writing back; I'd thought that she would wait until the end of class to talk to me. But after a few minutes, I saw her fold the paper back up and casually pass it back to be. Breathing heavily, I read her note.

It's okay. I probably would have done the same thing.

Was she serious? Was that all she was going to tell me? No 'I'm fine with your parents being who they are. I'd still like to be friends with you'? No 'Your parents are fags and so are you'? That was it? That was all she was going to say to me? Suddenly, I was mad again. Having Amy completely avoid the entire subject was almost worse than her being mean to me.

I considered writing back to Amy, but then I decided that I obviously wasn't going to get anywhere with her unless I talked to her face-to-face. With a sigh, I tried to pay attention in class, with the idea in mind that I would talk to Amy once school had ended.

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I had a very fun time in art class with Kathleen, although every time I looked over at Amy with her friends my stomach did its oh-so-familiar flip, reminding me of what I had to do once the school day was over.

After the last bell, I made my feet make their way over to Amy. For once, I didn't have to worry about missing my bus; Angel was picking me up so that the two of us could go shopping (she thought we needed to spend more time together).

Amy was standing in the center of her group of her usual giggly, ditzy friends. Taking a deep breath, I went over to her.

"Amy?" I asked her. She turned around and looked at me, looking surprised, but not at all mean. "Could I— uh, talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," she answered with a confused look on her face. We both took a few steps away from her group.

"Well………you read my note, right?" She slowly nodded. "Well, what you wrote back………I mean, it wasn't exactly very………" my voice trailed off.

"Sorry about that," Amy said to me hesitantly. "I wasn't exactly quite sure what to say………."

"Okay………" I answered. "It's just that—" I paused. "Do you want to come over my house on Friday?" Where had that come from? Now I sounded like I was hitting on her or something.

"What?" asked Amy.

"Not like that!" I said immediately. "It's just that— I said before that I'd like to be friends with you, but if that's the case then you need to accept my family, and honestly I think the only way you can do that is for you to actually meet them, so………"

"Sure," said Amy with a half confused, half slightly worried look on her face. "I mean— yeah. That's fine.

"Um, okay," I replied. "Great. So I'll………see you then?"

"Mm hmm," Amy answered with a slight nod.

"Okay," I told her. "So, see you later."

"Bye," Amy said to me. And with that, I walked outside, where I saw Angel waiting for me (in drag) in her car. I went over to the car and opened the door to the front seat.

"Hi honey," Angel said to me as I got in. She gave me a quick hug.

"Hey Angel," I replied. We started to drive out of the parking lot. "Umm, is it okay if I have a friend over on Friday night?

Angel thought for a second. "That's fine sweetie," she answered. "Who are you having? Kathleen?"

"Umm, no," I replied. "Actually, I invited Amy." Angel raised one eyebrow and gave me a skeptical look, but said nothing. "I know what you're thinking," I said to her quickly. "But I figure— I mean, she's an okay person, and I think that this is the only way to get through to her."

"Alright," Angel said to me. "If you want to."

"I'm sure," I said. "Just, Angel?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Umm………make sure you be yourself. Okay?"

Angel smiled. "That's fine," she answered.

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The next four days went by pretty fast. I had decided to invite Kathleen over on Friday as well. Amy had looked a little surprised when I had told her that Kathleen was coming too (which I had expected, considering the two of them weren't really friends), but she hadn't said anything. Then again, I had gotten the same reaction from Kathleen about Amy, but I figured they could get along. Besides, I had a feeling that Kathleen would get along very well with my dad.

On Friday afternoon at four o'clock, I was walking around the house nervously, twisting my hands together, and trying to convince myself that when Kathleen and Amy got to our house in an hour, everything was going to turn out all right. On my fifth trip through the kitchen, my dad finally asked me what I was doing.

"Nothing," I answered quickly. He raised one eyebrow and looked at me skeptically. "I'm just a little nervous," I said to him quietly. Angel, who had been distractedly drumming on the table, stopped and looked up at me. Neither of my parents said anything. "I know that I have nothing to me nervous over," I told them both. "I'm just— I'm just nothing," I muttered, realizing that I was now talking more to myself than either of my parents. "Everything is going to be fine." But then I resumed my pacing.

At quarter to five, my parents went out to get food. My dad had decided that he was going to grill soy burgers for everyone, which Angel and I had mixed feeling about (my dad had very varied success in cooking).

After my parents left, I continued walking around the room. When the doorbell rang, my stomach gave a brief jolt, and I walked slowly toward the front the door. With my palms sweating slightly, I opened it.