A/N: My apologies. Death of a friend… oh and also I realize that I was mistaken with the spelling of Tricia. All further chapters shall now contain the proper spelling. And, people who have been dying to know why Jude's parents never showed… You will be very pleased with this chapter. :-) Onward, oh mighty readers! ROAR

The 5 had split off into the different directions of their houses, all heavily in thought of the party that was no more than an hour away. The first to arrive home was Nikki.

She stepped out the shower and set the blow dryer on max, drying her short, purple hair within a matter of minutes. She walked out the bathroom in nothing but undergarments and socks and darted into her room. Nikki slipped a pair of black, torn cargos over a red pair of underwear that read, "Bite Me" on the ass. She rustled through her drawers, searching for a matching shirt. She threw two of them on her un-made bed. Nikki's chocolate eyes darted back and forth between the two. One was a dark gray shirt that read, in black script, "Do I Look Like A Fucking People Person?" The other one was a black shirt with white script that said, "Like You Have The Balls To Steal My Purse." She rubbed her chin puzzlingly; it was a touch choice. Her watch beeped to inform her to hurry her ass up. She grabbed "people person" and threw it over her head. With a quick glance in the mirror at her hair she burst through her door and down the stairs, throwing on her black Vans and heading towards the Garcia residence.

Jen wasn't even ready and already dealing with rowdy party guests. She ran out in a towel and caught a falling lamp.

"Watch it you clumsy moron!" She yelled at a football holding jock.

He scanned her body and began to giggle giddily.

"What!" Jen snapped.

"You're the clumsy one. You can't even hold a towel to your body." He snickered.

She stared down and screamed in horror. Her chest was free for all to see, but thankfully the jock was the only one in range. She brought the towel up and ran to her room, slamming the door angrily. Jen threw her curtains closed and locked the door, letting her towel drop to the floor. She pulled open a drawer and slipped on black, bikini cut underwear that matched her black bra. Jen them moved to her closet, gliding the different shirts down the bar until her eyes fell upon a deep red tank with the black script "Born To Board" across the chest. Jen pulled it off the hangar and slipped it over her head. The fit was a bit snug, but manageable. It also showed off her bust. She moved in front of her mirror and brushed out her hair, pulling it back behind her head in a simple ponytail. She moved back to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer to rummage through pants. Disappointed with what she found, Jen moved back to the closet to try skirts. Her search ended quickly with a knee length, loose skirt that matched in colour with the tank. She pulled it up her legs happily. Jen slipped her bare feet into a pair of black flip-flops and trotted down the stairs, avoiding eye contact with the clumsy jock.

Jonesy was doing quite a lot to prepare for the party. He fumed with his drawers, searching for a nice outfit. He stood in red, silk boxers, trying desperately to get the right threads. He decided that shaving would give his brain some time to think. He shuffled with the crap littered on his dresser until he picked up a razor. He grabbed the shaving cream and lathered his face. He found a water bottle that he could use to rinse the blades. Jonesy popped off the cap and moved the razor on his face. After several minutes he dabbed his face with a cloth. Jonesy picked up the stick of Right Guard off his floor and glided it under his arms several times. He threw it back onto the floor and grabbed the Axe spray lying on his dresser. Jonesy pushed down on it and sprayed it on his bare chest. He then went back to his search. Jonesy's onyx eyes set upon a pair of deep blue jeans. He picked them up out of the drawer and slipped them onto his legs. He felt a breeze where the pants should have been covering on his back. Jonesy rubbed a hand back there; only a small bit of his silkies were showing. He just shrugged and searched desperately for a shirt. Activity was growing downstairs and he had to be there since it was his party.

"Fuck it."

He slammed his drawer shut and slipped on a pair of red sneakers that waited for him at his door. He jogged down the stairs and began to mingle with the growing and rowdy crowd.

Wyatt was in his room, groaning at his mirror. He was very nervous about tonight. Aside from birthdays, this was his first party. He sat at the foot of his bed in his music note boxers with his shoulders hunched and his thumbs twiddling. Wyatt didn't want to disappoint Jonesy, because he was supposed to perform at the party. He sighed deeply and slipped on a white long-sleeve shirt. He pulled a black short-sleeve over top; which had a red music note on the back. A smaller version of the logo was on the right side of his chest. Wyatt pulled out his favourite pair of pants from the drawer. He slipped on the long cargos and smiled a little bit. He took a black elastic and tied his long hair back. Wyatt picked up his lucky jacket and rubbed it lightly. It had become extremely worn over the years and wearing it would destroy it. Wyatt still liked to rub it for good luck. He put it onto his bed gently and swung his guitar over his shoulder. He slipped on a pair of white sneakers and headed towards his mirror again. He picked up a bottle of Tag and sprayed it on his torso. His smile widened as he exited his room and walked out the front door.

Caitlin was not at home. She was in the bushes outside of Tricia's window. She glared at her, watching her go through her closet. Caitlin grew tired of waiting and threw a heavy rock at the window. The pane of glass shattered loudly, and Tricia jumped. She turned her head to see Caitlin leaping through the remnants of the window.

"You… fucking… bitch." Caitlin whispered.

Tricia picked up the rock that was used to destroy her window. She threw it at Caitlin, who was lucky enough to duck out of the way before the stone collided with her head. Caitlin lunged at her, tackling Tricia to the floor. Tricia grabbed Caitlin by the throat and dug her nails into her flesh. Caitlin could feel blood trickle down her neck and she snarled. She took a large shard of glass and stabbed at Tricia's wrists. Tricia screamed and pulled her hands back.

"I thought you'd be used to the feeling of a sharp object hitting your wrists, you depressed whore." Caitlin snorted.

"How DARE you!" Tricia yelled.

Tricia pulled a pistol out of her drawer. Caitlin gasped as Tricia pointed it at her.

"I'm about to blow you away Lemon Head." She cackled.

Caitlin threw the shard of glass at Tricia hard. It impaled her chest. Tricia screamed in horror and pain. She dropped the gun and clutched at her chest. Caitlin moved quickly and picked up the pistol. She pointed it at the weakened Tricia. Tricia's eyes filled with tears as Caitlin put more and more pressure on the trigger. It was close to firing.

"Cait… please… no…." She whimpered.

Caitlin lowered the gun slightly. "Damnit. I could never kill you… I couldn't even kill a fly."

Tricia took advantage of Caitlin and threw a shard at her head. It skimmed by, and Caitlin felt the blood flow. She panicked, and without thinking, pulled the trigger on the gun. The sound echoed in Caitlin's ears. Caitlin dropped the pistol and stood in shock. Tricia was motionless. She shook her shoulder in an effort to wake her up. Nothing. Caitlin put an ear to Tricia's throat. She did not hear breathing. Caitlin squealed in panic and dived out the window. She ran off the property and into the night, leaving Tricia's dead body in the middle of her floor.

Jude turned his head to see a fire truck whiz past with its sirens blaring. It was a familiar site in Edmonton, so he thought nothing of it. A police car followed closely behind it. Jude cocked an eyebrow as it slowed and stopped on the corner where his house was. His eyes widened in fear as he picked up speed. His nostrils were filled with the nauseating stench of smoke and water. He skidded around the corner and stared at his house. Smoke lifted off the rubble as firemen picked apart the wood and brick. Jude's eyes welled up with tears as he stared at the black mess that was his home. There was a crowd of people outside the house, jaws gaping and tears streaking down their faces. He joined them and heard tidbits of discussion amongst the shocked onlookers.

"They say the husband started the fire…"

"I heard it was a lit cigarette left on a bed…"

"No. It was the oven malfunctioning…"

"Whatever it was… the outcome certainly isn't pretty…"

"I heard they had a son…"

"The poor boy…"

Jude cried louder and pushed past the crowd, breaking the yellow tape that surrounded his property. An officer saw this and ran after him, catching his shoulder and gripping it tightly.

"Young man, stay the hell away from there!" He boomed.

"Why the hell should I! It's my goddamn house! Where are my parents! Are they ok!" He screamed in an answer.

The officer's grip softened, as did his eyes. He wrapped his whole arm around Jude's shaking shoulders. Jude's head fell into his chest as his sobs were muffled by the man's uniform.

"You must be Jude then…?" He asked quietly.

"Yes! Now, take me to my fucking parents!" Jude yelled.

"Jude, I think you should sit down…" The officer whispered.

Jude plopped down onto the lawn and bowed his head. "They're dead…"

The officer sighed deeply. "Heh… you made my job easier. I'm so sorry Jude. But, your mother's last words… I think you'll be happy to hear them."

Jude's head rose slightly in interest. "What?"

"Tell my Jude that I loved him with all my heart, and that I'm sorry we couldn't make it to his grad… I'm so proud of him." The officer whispered.

Jude bit his bottom lip and buried his face into his hands, letting his sobs echo. The officer could feel tears well up in his eyes as well. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He patted Jude on the shoulder and left him to cry.

A/N: Despite it being shorter than I like, I think I did one hell of a good job. R&R.