Okay, I LOVE this chapter. I love all my chapters. Time to review my reviewers.

Galateagirl- Yep, her mom's pregnant, and Danny's not as big of a jerk-face as you might think. Ooops, gave something away. Sorry.

Raven of the Night676- Yeah, hopefully this story is interesting. It doesn't bother me that I don't have many reviewers like it would for most people. I write for the joy of writing and this story is my favorite story to write. So I'll update it until it's done, no matter how many reviews I get. :)

I just realized that in all of my stories I make Danny look like a jerk. Haha, that's funny. Anyway, I need to sort some stuff out. The Thanksgiving thing that happened and when danny came over, did not happen this year in the story. It was a couple of years ago, because it's still the beginning of the school year for Sam right now.

Something that's been bugging me and I just have to tell someone, is that Jazz reminds me of a mini Spectra. I mean think about it. They both want to become physcoliogists, or however you spell it, and they both have red hair. Freaky. Okay, enough blabbering. On with the story.

Enjoy peoples...


Chapter Three

"Playing" Hard to Get (Not)

"We can try to be someone different and impress people, but all we're really doing is trying to cover up the awful truth."


Sam's POV

"I can't believe that he did that. I just can't believe it. How could he do something like that? I mean, he's supposed to be my friend, right? But then how do I explain the sudden change of our relationship?"

"Right Sam," Mr. Swift woke me up from my train of thought. Since I didn't know what he had just said, I just stood there on the auditorium stage, looking like a total idiot in front of my whole Drama class. Which normally wouldn't have bothered me, but under sudden circumstances, I couldn't help but feel stupid.

"What?" I finally asked. Mr. Swift sighed.

"Most of the cast doesn't really believe me when I told them that Robert Manson was your uncle. Could you please inform them that I'm not a liar, and that I'm telling the truth?"

"Yeah, like someone I know." I muttered under my breath, but Mr. Swift must have seen my lips moving.

"What was that?" He asked, "Please inform them that I'm not lying Samantha."

For a second I considered telling everybody that he had been lying. Nobody EVER calls me Samantha, not even a teacher.

But then I thought about the letter I had already sent to my uncle. I couldn't say that he was lying, especially if my uncle agreed to come into town to help with the play.

"It's true, my uncle is Robert Manson." I admitted shyly. In the audience people muttered to each other that I was lying, but then the director hushed them all up.

"Let's start with Act two, scene one." The director called for everyone in the second act to get into place. I quickly ran behind the curtains. This was the scene where I fell madly in love with David or Gregor when I find him singing to a bird in the forest and we make plans to "hang out" sometime.

Sandy was supposed to have blonde hair, which I didn't have, and David was supposed to have black hair, which he didn't have. The director had to make opposite changes in the play for both of our parts to work out. I hoped that the writer of the play didn't sue us for making changes to their work; but then again the writer of the play probably didn't have an uncle who was a famous director. I was still worried though. If something did happen to Gregor, the night of the performance, then Danny would have to fill in, and he certainly didn't have blonde hair. I don't why the director chose Gregor over Danny, as much as I despised him right now, he did pull off a better audition than Gregor. For one thing, Gregor can't sing as half as good as Danny, not that I was noticing I just…

"And action." Mr. Swift yelled from behind the curtains to Gregor.

Gregor walked onto the stage and sat down on top of log, which was actually a stool painted to look like a log.

"It's okay," He said soothingly to the fake bird that was placed on his right, He picked it up which he wasn't supposed to do until I walked behind him on the stage. "Gregor will sing you a…" He didn't get any farther than that until Mr. Swift broke in.

"YOUR NAME IS NOT GREGOR! IT'S DAVID!" He screamed. I felt a little sorry for Gregor, I mean it really is hard to get used to a new name when you've had the same one since you were BORN!

"Take it from where you messed up before." Mr. Swift said, "and action!"

"David will sing you a song, and it will…." He stumbled trying to find the right words.

"Make you feel better!" I whispered from behind the curtains.

"What?" He asked and he turned to face me.

"Your next line." I whispered back, a little bit louder than the last time.

"Oh right," He said. Then he turned back to the audience. "And it will make you feel better."

Then Leah, the pianist for the musical numbers, started to play a very soft song on the piano. I thought that Gregor would've at least memorized his song that he sang by himself, I mean it had only been two weeks since we started the play, and I had already memorized half of my lines, and all the lines in the songs that I sang. But I was wrong.

"If only the woods could…whisper, yeah whisper, the song that I singed, for my listener, and I wish that…I could hold a feather, I we were named Heather, no that's not it." He sang jumbling up his lines. I smacked my hand on my forehead, and brought it down my face. It wouldn't have been so bad if, you guessed it, Danny hadn't of been sitting in the front row of the auditorium seats, and was laughing his head off. Then Mr. Swift stopped Leah from playing, and walked as far as he could over to Danny from the stage.

"Do you find something that amuses you, Mr. Fenton?" He asked.

"Yeah, Gregor doesn't know his lines." Danny replied.

"And if you think that it's so funny why don't you take a crack at it?" Mr. Swift asked Danny. "Please come and amuse us with your talent." Mr. Swift motioned for Danny to come up on stage, and Danny reluctantly walked up the stairs to the stage. He took Gregor's spot on the log/stool and waited for his cue.

"Dead man walking, well sitting now." I told myself and smiled.

Leah started playing and Danny sang on his cue.

If only the woods could whisper

The song that I sing for my listener

The wish on a single bird feather

Of hopes that we could be together

But now…I know, that we

Weren't really meant to be

Ooohh

I would paint the skies the darkest blue

I would wash away the evil too

If only I could be with you..today

I would hold you

And love you

I would sing to you

And tell you

Ooohh

I would wipe up the sunset and put it in a jar

I would capture the moon

And buy you a car

If only I could be with you, my shining star

Ooohh, Yeah

I would hold you

And love you

I would sing to you

And tell you..that

Your eyes remind me

Of the sunshine

You're sense of humor

Is always on my mind

And even though relationships take time

I love you

I love you

Can't say it enough

I love you

I love you

Relationships are tough

Ooohh

I love you

I love you

Ooohh yeah…

"Wow, and who we're you supposed to be singing for?" I said my line as I walked onto the stage. Danny looked startled, his character, and he quickly picked up the bird, like he was supposed to.

I was trying not to cry, or even laugh and I just wanted to give Danny a big hug right then and there and tell him that I wasn't mad at him, but I knew that I would regret doing that later. The truth was that Danny really was the better singer. When he sang, it was like everything just faded away, and it was only you and his voice that existed. It was a peaceful and nice feeling. I mean…at least to me it was. I don't know about you, but…why do I suddenly feel different about him? Do you think maybe I…

"I SAID THAT I WAS JUST SINGING TO THIS BIRD HERE!" Danny screamed at me, aware of me not thinking about the play. He quickly awakened me from my feelings, and I put my mind back into saying my lines.

"You're here telling this bird that you love her?" I asked him suspiciously, also supposed to be my character.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean." Danny struggled to find the right words. That was also his character.

"So who's the lucky girl?" I asked, sitting down onto a log/stool beside him.

"I never said that I liked anybody." He defended himself, still in character.

"But you never said that it was the bird that you were singing to." I replied on the offense.

"Well, so what if I wasn't singing to the bird. Songwriter's are allowed to sing which ever songs they please." He said confidently.

"Yeah, but I saw you at the café and you didn't look like much of a songwriter to me," It was true. At least in the play it was. My character had seen his character with his "gang" of friends at the café not more than six scenes ago and he didn't really look like a songwriter, more like an I'm-gonna-beat-you-up-if-you-say-anything-bad-about-me-punk kinda person.

"Well, my singing career is one of those low profile things." He said it like I was supposed to understand that it wasn't cool.

"Oh, so it's not cool around here right?" My character asked, supposed to be kinda miffed at him. But I also kept wondering why the director didn't stop this scene from continuing on. I mean, I didn't want him to stop the scene, but ya can't blame a girl from wondering these things ya know?

"Well, it's not the most popular thing to do, but people still sing. I would never be caught dead singing in public…" Danny's character realized how my face was in disappointment, and quickly changed his idea. "But, I mean, it would be very popular if someone like you started a new trend."

"Really," I asked, "Why?"

"Well, for one thing you're smart, fun, cool, pretty…" He stopped himself from going any further, and my character blushed, but for a second I thought that he was truly meaning those things. I wonder why I thought that? I need to stop worrying about other stuff when I'm performing on stage.

"Anyway, do you think that you would want to meet me at the café tomorrow at let's say oh, six o' clock." Danny's character asked a little nervously.

"Well, okay, but only because you want me to prove that singing is cool." My character said. Danny got up and walked almost behind the curtains, and then waved to me, and I waved back at him. After he was supposed to be gone, I sighed a long sigh, and then walked off the stage in the opposite direction.


When I walked through the front door to my house everything changed, at least that's when I remember that it did. No, Danny was still the understudy, despite the awesome performance that he did. All Gregor had to do was to forget some more of his lines, and then Danny would be the understudy, although I wondered why Mr. Swift was so set on having Gregor being my opposite and nobody else.

But one question that kept popping through my head during practice was, how can you be mad at someone and then turn around the next day and not want to be mad at them anymore?

Anyway, I walked father into my house and saw Tiffany sitting on our living room couch. I opened my mouth in shock. Usually Tiffany never came over to my house unless there was an emergency.

Tiffany had smooth and silky blonde hair that stopped below her shoulders. She was wearing a white tank top with a tight pink shirt over top of it. Definitely something that my mother would say was "too revealing". She was also wearing a blue skirt that stopped just below her knees, and pink high heels. If I had just seen Tiffany for the first time, I would've said that she looked about sixteen, but from knowing her for about eight years, I knew that she was only thirteen and in seventh grade.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her, but before she could answer my Aunt Margret walked into the room.

"I just finished putting all of your boxes in your new room and I need you to go put everything away." She told Tiffany, and then noticed me standing in the living room too. I didn't notice her looking at me. All I thought about was "new room?"

"Honey, I just said hi." My aunt told me, waking me from my thoughts. That happened a lot lately.

"Oh, hi Margret," I replied. Unlike most aunts' and uncles' Margret and Robert wanted me to call them by their first names, instead of Aunt Margret, and Uncle Robert. They said that it was too non-respectful to the Adult/Kid relationship and that we should all be treated equally. Margret, Robert and I also didn't like the normal greeting hug, when people meet each other, so we came up with a super cool secret handshake routine.

Tiffany walked out of the room, she always knew when her mother was going to ask her to leave, and she didn't even know the handshake. Only Margret, Robert, and I knew about it. So after she left, Margret and I did the "handshake" and then we both sat down on the couch while I studied Margret's latest outfit.

Margret is only 38. She was 27 when she had Tiffany, and is still cool. She had black hair that was extremely curly. Her hair stopped at the top of her shoulders and it was in a kind of a bob look, because it was SO curly. She was wearing a black tank top, with a dark red, long sleeved shirt over top of it. She was also wearing a short red skirt, and black stockings that looked liked my purple ones. And to top it all off she was wearing black combat boots just like mine. I always thought that Margret was the splitting image of me. Not to mention that Robert and her were Goth's and also Ultra Recyclo Vegetarians also like me. Tiffany was definitely not a Goth, and she LOVED to eat hamburgers, something that I would NEVER do.

Tiffany and I always joked around about us being born into the wrong families. It was obvious that she was the perfect storybook princess that my parent's had always wanted, and that I was the Goth, kick butt, Ultra Recyclo Vegetarian daughter that Margret and Robert had always wanted, kind of ironic, no?

I finally mustered up enough courage to ask my aunt why she was here, and more importantly WHY SHE WAS MOVING INTO OUR HOUSE.

"So, what brings you over here?" I asked Margret.

"Someone let it slip that Tiffany was Robert's daughter and we had to leave before the press showed up on our doorstep." Margret said sadly.

"Why come here, I mean why not go farther away?" I asked.

"Because that's what everybody will expect us to do. Tiffany's not going back to regular school for awhile, and besides, nobody knows that you're Robert's niece, right?" Margret smiled, as I flinched.

"Well, see my best friend kinda…"

"I hope you don't mean that boy that came over to our house for thanksgiving that one year. He was so nice. I couldn't believe that he would ever let it slip that you were related to Robert." Margret interrupted.

"He did let it slip. Everybody in my whole school knows that he's my uncle, and it's all thanks to him." I said angrily.

"How do you know that it was him that blabbed?" Margret asked.

"Because he was the only one that knew," I answered.

"Not necessarily, if I remember correctly Tiffany told a couple of her older friends." Margret said.

"Like who?" I asked quickly.

"This one girl, she was very strange. She just recently had a decrease in her dad's income from his job and had to move to an apartment. That was the last that Tiffany had ever heard of her." Margret responded. Somehow that story seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on it.

"Do you know her name?" I asked.

"I don't remember her name, but maybe you could ask Tiffany." Margret told me. Just then we heard a scream coming from the direction Tiffany had gone. Margret and I got up and I followed her to Tiffany's new room, but she wasn't in there. Instead we found her by the front door, and asked her what was wrong. When she finally calmed down she answered.

"Daddy sent Sam a present and a card," and then she shoved a big box into my arms and shoved a card into my closed mouth. Then she ran to her room and shouted, "Daddy's coming to visit."

Margret took the card out of my mouth, and I gave her a thankful smile. Then I set the box down onto a nearby chair, and felt something moving in it, but instead of opening it right away I looked at Margret to see that my letter had been ripped open, by Tiffany, and was covered in saliva, once again, Tiffany's fault. Margret handed me the letter.

"I'm sorry about Tiffany opening the letter before you did." She said, "It was none of her business." She put on a black coat, and picked up her car keys, "And after you read the letter just tell me what this whole "visiting" thing is about. Okay, Sam." I nodded my head, worried about the letter, and then I snapped back into reality.

"Where are you going?" I asked Margret.

"I'm going to the hospital to pick up your mother…" Her voice faded off. I walked over to her and put on my serious face.

"What is the deal with my mother?" I asked trying not to sound worried. "Why is she in the hospital?" I tried not to cry.

"Nothing's wrong." Margret assured me, and then gave me a hug. She only did this when she was surely sure that I was really upset, and I appreciated it, despite my whole beliefs.

"But it seems like something is wrong with her." I looked up into Margret's eyes. She was crying too, and she was still hugging me.

"Everything's going to be okay. You don't need to worry about your mom right now, because she'll be alright, and the time will come when she will tell you what's happening." Margret said stroking my hair. "I'll be back soon, promise me you won't worry about it until I get back." I nodded my head. Margret let go of me, and walked through the front door, following a loud slam.

I opened my letter from my uncle. This is what he wrote.

Dear Sam,

I'm so p-roud of you for getting the female lead in the school play, even if it wasn't fair. I told Tiffany that she shouldn't go around telling people that I'm her father, and your uncle, but she doesn't listen to me anymore.

I would be happy to come and help you and the rest of the cast with their lines and performance, but it'll take me a few weeks before I can come down there. I'm definitely coming, but I'm working on a new movie right now, and the editing is almost done.

I'm kind of worried about the media getting around your town when I come down, but if it's true that everyone already knows that I'm your uncle then it shouldn't be a problem. Maybe it was a good thing that that person let it slip.

I really wish that I could be down there right now, but I can't, and I'm really sorry.

I don't think that's it's a plot to get me and Margret back together. You wouldn't joke around about something like this, even if you really wanted us to get back together. Good luck on your play until I get down there. I send you another card when I'm planning on coming down.

Oh, and by the way I sent you a present. By careful with it, it can be a little jumpy and it isn't house trained yet.

Your uncle,

Robert

The letter looked like it had been scribbled down quickly and I didn't get the things that he had said at the end. So I put the letter into a pocket in my skirt and walked over to the box. I slowly opened it, and when it was opened all the way a small brown hairy thing jumped out at me. I jumped sideways and it jumped down onto the ground. It took me a second to realize that the little brown hairy thing was a dog.

It looked SO cute and it was perfect for me. I looked at its neck and it had a black collar on. I leaned over and looked at the tag on its collar. It said:

Lilith Manson

Mom: Sam Manson

And it went on to describe my home information after that. I stood up and closed the box, suddenly feeling my right shoe getting damp. I looked down to my right and saw Lilith, my dog, peeing on my shoe like it was some kind of fire hydrant. I sighed.

I didn't know whether to take it as a bad omen, or that my dog hadn't gone to the bathroom since she had gotten into the box.