Life to the Fullest

by ryurei-chan

If life was fair, then what would it be worth living? Maybe the Simpson kids and their companions will understand seven years into the future. Constructive criticism appreciated.

9. Resist

Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons characters; only Katrina, Audrina, Tomas, and Rodney.

I accept constructive criticism. c:

~•~•~•~

Peeking around a corner while students rushed by was not how Jessica Lovejoy planned to spend her Wednesday afternoon at school. As soon as class ended, she gathered her books and raced to her locker, packing away whatever she didn't need and slammed it shut before running down to the first floor. When she woke up today, she had a mission in mind: find Bart Simpson and talk to him.

The Simpson boy was avoiding her like the plague and it was starting to work on her nerves.

He wouldn't even look in her direction for more than a few seconds and hid behind poles and ducked into empty classrooms in order to not even be in the same area as her. Talk about desperate. To her delight, she found out through eavesdropping that he left a few minutes later than some of the students due to his last class being on the far end of the fourth floor. This time, she was going to lie in wait for Bart and corner him, once and for all.

After a few minutes passed of teens walking by, some even giving her strange looks for her suspicious position, a mop of spiky blond hair came out of the stairwell. Jessica grinned to herself in satisfaction.

'Got you, Bart.'

Straightening up, she ran down the hall to call out to the other before he walked out of the double doors. "Bart! Wait!" Jessica could practically see his shoulders tense up from behind at the sound of her voice, stopping in his tracks. Catching up, she stood behind his tall frame, clearing her throat. "I need to talk to you…"

"Listen, I don't want to-"

Before he could finish his protest, the raven-haired girl grabbed his forearm, noting the muscle formed underneath the yellow skin. "I don't care about what you don't want, Bart Simpson. You're acting like a child and while I can understand why you're avoiding me, I think the least you can do is face me and we can discuss this like the adults we are."

Bart had half a mind to tell this girl to shove it, especially at the childish remark. However, she did have a point. He promised himself that he was going to be more mature and responsible now. He was tired of running and hiding, the least he could do is hear what she has to say, get off what's on his chest and then go about his day.

Sighing in exasperation, he turned towards her and motioned her to follow him into the stairwell he emerged from. Nodding at him, Jessica released his forearm and walked behind him into the far end of the stairwell, hiding under the steps so no one could disrupt their conversation. "Alright Lovejoy, talk." Taking a deep breath, Jessica looked him straight into his blue eyes.

"Okay…obviously, I'm back now. I know it's been a long time and we didn't leave on the best terms…but I wanted to say I'm sorry for how I acted back then. What I did was evil…it wasn't even a prank, it was just horrible." Biting her lip, she looked down for a second before speaking again. "You just saw me as a crush and I took advantage of that for my own gain. I just…" Realizing that she was rambling, she looked back into the other's eyes. "I just hope you can forgive me for what I did to you all those years ago. Pushing you down that giant hill, making you pull the fire alarm, framing you for the collection plate theft…I'm sorry, Bart."

The next few seconds were tense with silence from both parties as the minister's daughter waited for the Simpson boy to respond to her apology. What came out of his mouth next shook her down to her core.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me, Lovejoy?"

"Wh-What? Excuse me?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bart folded his arms over his chest. "So you do all those things to me and expect your little apology to make up for it? Did you really think I'd bend over backwards and say 'oh Jessica, you're so thoughtful! Jessica, you've turned into an angel and renounced your sinful ways!' Do you think I'm freaking stupid?"

Jessica couldn't believe this. She wasn't naive, she didn't expect things to go smoothly, oh no. But to have him basically mock her apology and question her integrity, that was going way too far. "Bart, what the hell? I'm practically pouring my heart out to you, what more do you want?!" Her fists clenched as her green eyes narrowed. "Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? The only time I ever do that is when I have to go to church and pretend that I'm praying to whatever phony God is up there, I'm not doing that for you!"

As she snapped back at him, Bart barked out a humorless laugh and pointed a finger at her face. "You see, that's your problem. You make it seem like you're sorry and concerned about how I feel but you only think about yourself. That's how it's always been and that's how it's always going to be, Jessica." Adjusting his backpack on his shoulders, the blonde gave her another glare before turning and speaking over his shoulder. "Maybe you should spend more time in church on your knees, God knows you of all people need it. Have a nice day." With that last insult, Bart made his way towards the double doors, pushing them open with a little more force than necessary.

Left alone with the silence of the stairwell, Jessica absorbed the whirlwind that took place just now. A familiar anger twisted its way into her heart as her face screwed up with rage, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. Cursing out the Simpson boy in her head, she walked to the double doors and pushed it open with even more force, desperate to leave this place lest she do something she might regret. Students still straggled around the back lot, waiting for friends or hanging out with each other. They didn't pay attention to the fuming girl as she stormed down the steps and started walking towards the streets to head home. Her mission was a failure and now she was scrambling to pick up the pieces through her humiliation and rage.

'If that's how you want to play, Bart Simpson, I'll make sure you accept my apology, one way or another.'

~•~•~•~

Folding a basket of fresh laundry, Marge sat on the couch in the family room as the TV droned on in the background. The nightly news was on, filled with the usual chatter by Kent Brockman. A murder. Upcoming election. School budget cuts. Another murder. Kwik-E-Mart got robbed again.

Usually the blue-haired woman had company but everyone was busy doing one thing or another tonight. Bart was at work, having rushed there after coming home in a somewhat foul mood. Lisa was upstairs working on her homework and reading one of her books for AP English. Maggie had finished her work earlier in the day and chose to spend the rest of her night playing Roblox in her room. Marge grumbled to herself as she folded one of her son's many band tees.

At least Homer should be home any minute now.

Remembering the invite by Ned for the buffet dinner this Saturday, Marge smiled a little at the thought. It had been ages since her and Homer were able to go out with friends and she was looking forward to the upcoming event. Years ago, her husband would have rather been caught dead than voluntarily hang out with the religious neighbor; now he made an effort to get along and she couldn't be prouder of him for changing his mind. Their kids weren't little anymore so they didn't have to worry about babysitters unless Bart and Lisa were unable to watch Maggie. She knew how teenagers loved to go out on the weekends.

"Breaking news folks, an update on the escaped convict from Springfield Penitentiary has been made public by the Springfield Police Department. We go to Chief of Police Wiggum, live in front of the department."

'An escaped convict? That doesn't sound good…' Looking up from her laundry for a second, Marge eyed the television as Chief Wiggum's rotund form filled the screen, backed up by his two men, Eddie and Lou.

'Chief, has there been any progress made on the escaped prisoner?'

'Chief, have you found the whereabouts of this convict?'

'Chief, is this escapee related to the recent Kwik-E-Mart robbing?'

Chief Wiggum raised a hand up to halt the questions as he scrambled to answer the ones that were shouted at him first. 'One, yes, we have made progress on finding the prisoner. Two, we found a major clue as to his whereabouts and what he was up to until recently. Third, no, for once, this is not related to the Kwik-E-Mart robbery.'

Lou leaned in and whispered to Wiggum, presumably on what facts to present to the public and what to hold back. Clearing his throat, the chief began speaking again. 'We have been asking multiple civilians around town to report any suspicious activities or sightings of Crowley. While many of those claims turned out to be false, one of them has been looked over and determined to be related to our case. Um…' Turning to Lou, he whispered, loud enough to be heard through the mic. 'Lou, do you, uh…remember what that claim was?'

Sighing, Lou nodded and motioned for the chief to step back and let him take over the conference, adjusting the mic to reach to his level. 'A civilian who wishes to remain anonymous reported spotting a man who resembled Crowley at the Gulp 'n' Blow yesterday at around 11 PM. They testified that the man came out of the restaurant after purchasing dinner and drove off in a red 2003 Ford Mustang, license plate RGW-4357. This plate matches that of the civilian who was carjacked last month, his own description matching that of Crowley as well.'

An uproar of questions continued again from the reporters until Lou pointed out at a younger man in a tan suit and fedora to match.

'Sergeant, where is Crowley located at this time?'

'Unfortunately, our team is still working to uncover his exact whereabouts. We have reason to believe that he is holed up in a hideout that is off the grid.'

Eddie tapped Lou on the shoulder before whispering in his ear, low enough to only be heard by the sergeant. 'Officer Eddie has informed me that fliers have been distributed throughout Springfield listing details of our convict. Please notify the police if you or anyone you know spots or has information regarding Crowley. We are holding a $50,000 reward in conjunction with Springfield Penitentiary for his capture.' Lou's face grew more serious as he addressed everyone watching this conference.

'We emphasize that no one attempt to be a vigilante and approach Crowley. He is a violent and unstable man who will most likely be armed. Again, do not approach Crowley. Contact the police immediately and keep a safe distance from him. This meeting is over. Thank you.'

Stepping away from the podium, the chatter of the reporters continued as the three officers walked back into the station.

The live feed ended as Kent's aging face came back onto the screen.

'Thank you for watching this conference, folks. We will continue to keep you all updated with any new info on the escaped prisoner.'

Marge frowned as her eyes stayed glued to the TV, her hands in autopilot as they continued folding clothes. This sounded like serious business. The local police being unable to find criminals in a timely manner was nothing new; what concerned her was the high reward and warnings for civilians to stay safe. Another thing that bugged her was the name of the convict. She figured that he had been discussed so often that they stuck with using his last name instead of his full name. But…it sounded so familiar and she couldn't put her finger on it…

'Crowley…Crowley…darn, where have I heard that name before?'

'Before we end our nightly news, we have received details to share with the public on identifying the prisoner .'

Once Kent finished speaking, two pictures with text popped up in two columns on the screen.

At the sight of the prisoner's face, Marge gasped loudly and dropped a pair of Maggie's shorts.

That rugged yet handsome face. Slicked back dark brown hair. An aloof expression amplified by cold, brown eyes. The same eyes that looked into her own as he promised that he didn't burn down the school mural.

Jack Crowley was the name listed underneath the picture.

The blue-haired woman was in too much shock to even read the next column that listed the picture and details of the car stolen by him. Resting her head in her hands, she looked down, seeing nothing but the green fabric covering her legs.

Jack had been an inmate at the Waterville State Prison where they held an annual prison rodeo. Homer had participated and injured his back, landing him in the infirmary where Jack was housed as well. Marge caught sight of one of the paintings hanging in the infirmary and was surprised to learn that the convict had painted it. Feeling empathetic at the talent that was locked behind bars, the Simpson woman decided to hold a painting class in order to give Jack a chance to show his skills. Thoroughly impressed, Marge fought to have him approved for parole at his next hearing; what she didn't expect was that he would have to be in her custody.

Once he moved in, Marge helped him get a job at Springfield Elementary to paint them a new mural. Sadly, Skinner and Jack had constantly butted heads during the process, Skinner hating Jack's edgier style while Jack loathed Skinner's childish style. Not wanting to mess up his second (or third chance, he had slipped to Marge at one point), the convict sucked it up and followed Skinner's instructions, much to the disapproval of everyone who was present at the mural reveal. The principal refused to take blame and passed it onto Jack, enraging him. Soon enough, the mural caught fire, revealing the work that Jack had painted first, winning back the crowd. With Jack nowhere to be seen, Marge searched for him and found him hiding in the playground. Assuming the worst, she figured that he set the fire but to her surprise, he gripped her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

"Marge, look in my eyes. I swear to you, I did not do it."

She was a fool to believe that smooth voice. She risked her own integrity to distract the police so he could escape; instead, he took the opportunity to torch Skinner's car, maniacal laughter ringing into the smoke-filled air. Once he was arrested and in the back of the police cruiser, Marge let him have it as he had the nerve to lie to her face again. As the car drove away, Marge hoped that would be the last time she would ever see the convict's face again.

Oh, how wrong she was.

"Marge, I'm home!"

Jumping at the sound of Homer's voice ringing from the front door, Marge straightened up and picked up the shorts she had dropped on the floor. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she managed to paint a smile on her face as her husband stepped into the room.

"Welcome home, Homie. How was your day?"

Shrugging, Homer sat down on the couch, careful not to disturb the pile of folded clothes between them. "Ah, the usual. Nuclear power plant stuff, you know?" Looking at his wife's face, his own twisted in concern. "Marge, you alright? You look a little pale…"

Nodding quickly, Marge waved her hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah! I just…realized that the electric bill is due before the night is over!"

Letting out a 'd'oh', Homer slapped his forehead before rubbing it. "Damn, I knew I should have paid it off this morning before I left! I'll take care-"

"No!" Stopping her husband before he could get up, she quickly pushed him back down onto the red couch as she stood up. "Homie, you've had a long day, let me go take care of it right now." Seeing that the confused look was still on Homer's face, Marge leant down and kissed his forehead. "Really, let me go do it right now. You work so hard, just sit back and relax, okay?"

"Okay…thanks honey."

Giving a loving smile to her husband and getting one in return, Marge exited the family room with a little more speed than usual. Walking into the kitchen, she let out the breath she had been holding, shoulders sagging as the gravity of Jack's escape weighed on her. Marge walked to the sink and stared out the window. The gray bricks of Waterville State Prison stood out to her like a sore thumb, high on the green hills of Springfield. She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white as she tried to still her trembling fingers.

Why was she so nervous? It wasn't like Jack was going to come after her and her family; he was probably just sick of prison life and decided to take matters into his own hands, however unethical they may be. Who knows, Jack Crowley might just be multiple towns over, trying to start a new life under a new name. Maybe he realized how bad he screwed up and decided to turn a new leaf, becoming the painter that he was meant to be!

But it didn't matter how carried away Marge got as she made excuses in her head for the rest of the night; while she slept, dreams of Jack and his cackling permeated in her mind.

~•~•~•~

'Before we end our nightly news, we have received details on-'

Cutting off the TV, Jack grumbled under his breath at just how incompetent the local police force was. Not that he wanted to be captured, his mission wasn't complete yet. But time was drawing near and he couldn't risk dragging out his plan any longer, lest he end up back in prison and headed for the electric chair.

Standing up from the recliner, he walked down to the basement to a work bench littered with photos and maps. On the wall above it was a cork board with miscellaneous pictures and sticky notes, courtesy of the convict. To his luck, the elderly couple whose house he was hiding out in consisted of a conspiracy theorist husband and a wife who was too doped up on Xanax to give a damn about his shenanigans.

It was a pity that he had to take care of the old coot, he had put up one hell of a fight but was no match for someone half his age and twice his muscle mass. The wife was none the wiser due to her inebriated state; while dragging out a large garbage bag, she turned to Jack with a dazed look and asked who he was; it was a miracle he could understand her slurring words. Putting on a dazzling smile, he reminded her that she was his grandson Trevor and that his mother had asked her to spend some time to take care of his grandparents. Whether she believed him or didn't care, the old woman nodded slowly before staring at her TV again.

Luckily the couple didn't have friends or frequent visitors to their house, the only ones who visited were the Meals on Wheels delivery boys. They dropped off the dinners on the front porch before speeding off in their van, not seeing the new guest picking them up before slamming the door. Thankfully the old woman didn't require assistance to feed herself, so long as it didn't require her near a stove, leaving Jack to his own devices.

Looking at his board, he took in the various images. The biggest was of the Simpson house while smaller ones listed a photo or two of Homer and the kids, leaving the house for work or school. What stood out in this collage were the multiple photos of Marge herself. The tower of blue hair stood out in each photo despite the different activities the woman was performing. Walking out her front door. Sitting in her red station wagon. Kissing her husband goodbye. Tending to their garden. Whatever move she made, Jack made sure to capture it on film.

Jack picked up the pad of sticky notes and began scribbling the next steps of his plan. He had decided when to pay his 'old friend' a visit; Saturday night was the perfect time. Most likely Marge would be home, whether by herself or with family, it didn't matter to him. All he cared about was getting to the cyan-haired woman. If someone wanted to get in his way, he wouldn't hesitate to erase them from the picture.

He hated to admit it but the Simpson woman refused to escape his thoughts ever since he was thrown back into prison. The sheer sympathy and compassion she had shown him in that short amount of time blew his mind; not even his own parents gave him that much throughout his childhood. The disappointment she expressed the day he was taken away permeated like a rain cloud over his head as he was brought through a swift trial, sentencing him to twenty-five years. His cloud lingered as he was placed with his new cellmate, some punk with a shaved head and a body covered like a canvas in tattoos who talked shit the second the cell door closed. Jack just ignored the guy day after day, going about his business with the fog in his head. Then came the day where the punk found out through yard gossip what Jack was up to before he returned to prison life.

Feeling bold, his cellmate got in his face after dinner one night, taunting him about being 'soft' and 'playing with paint like a little girl' and 'getting caught like a dumbass'. However, the punk took it too far once he started talking about Marge. He sneered at the convict about how he spent all that time in a woman's house and couldn't even get any tail.

Jack couldn't remember what happened next in those few seconds. When he came to, there were three guards pinning him down to the concrete floor with one guard checking on the punk lying on the other side of the cell, unconscious and littered with blood and bruises. That little episode earned him some time in solitary confinement and a dangerous reputation in the prison.

It didn't matter. No one was allowed to speak of Marge like that.

As the years passed, his obsession grew greater and greater. She occupied his daily thoughts. She showed up in the paintings he made. She lingered in his dreams. In these dreams, she gave him her warm smiles and held her arms out, asking him to come back. She wanted to give him another chance, wanted to set that troubled soul of his free once more, wanted to give him more than a place to sleep. The dreams always ended the same though. Before he could reach out and touch her, she started melting into a puddle, resembling the oil paints he loved to work with.

One day, he couldn't take it anymore. He planned his escape and managed to sneak a metal spoon out of the kitchen one day, using the big brawl that was ensuing in the cafeteria as cover. Sneaking it back to his room, he used the utensil and spent days digging his tunnel, bit by bit. His new cellmate couldn't care less, he was too timid and didn't want to feel the man's wrath by snitching on him. Jack had been on good behavior in the last couple of years, shortening the amount of times guards came to check up on him. Using this to his advantage, he managed to get about 3/4ths through, sneaking in after hours to work until one September night. That night, he bid his cellmate a farewell as he disappeared into the tunnel one last time.

After digging for another hour or two, Jack Crowley became a free man once more. Now he could make his dreams a reality.

A thump and the sound of the TV cutting off upstairs brought Jack back to the present. Looking at the clock on the wall, he swore as he saw how late it was getting. He had to pick up some important supplies in the morning in order to prepare for Saturday night. A good night's sleep was needed for everything to go right.

Reaching out to one of the photos, Jack stroked Marge's smiling face with fondness.

'Marge, just you wait. I'll show you just what you've been missing.'

~•~•~•~

New Springfield High School's cafeteria was full of energy, students filing in for lunch after their long classes.

There were a few tables that weren't as full as the beginning of the year. The students that usually occupied them chose to venture outside for more edible food or to sneak home and never come back for the day. The Simpson teens and their friends were an exception to this, though.

Bart sat at the usual spot with the gang plus Donny. Lisa sat with her usual group of friends as well. Seeing as it was Thursday, both tables were discussing everyone's plans for the weekend. The teenagers were dying for some fun to break up the stress that was creeping up on them from school.

At the boys' table, each of them were giving ideas for what to do on the upcoming weekend. So far, none of them could agree on an idea.

"Why don't we go to the Googolplex? The Re-Deadening III: Revenge of Baby Button Eyes is still playing." Richard suggested this before taking a bite of his PB&J sandwich.

Nelson waved his hand at him in dismissal. "Man, I saw it last week, that movie was ass!" Lewis nodded in agreement. "Yeah, all the budget went towards the special effects. They couldn't even keep the original actors!"

Richard groaned in annoyance at his opposition. "Then why don't you suggest something, geniuses?"

Lewis tapped his fingers on the table in thought before snapping them in the air. "What about Barney's Bowlarama? I heard they're having 'Teens' Night' Saturday, anyone between 13-19 gets to bowl for half price." His suggestion was met with speculation until Bart sighed and shook his head.

"That sounds like an idea but the last time Milhouse and I went to that, the place was packed with freshmen. We waited for almost twenty minutes and left, no one was leaving their lanes."

Sighing as another plan was shot down, the boys kept thinking of suggestions to field. Donny however, having only a small bit of familiarity with the area, kept his comments to a minimum. He was settling in well with the group, it reminded him of how they got along back then before he had to leave Springfield. Although, Richard and Lewis were new faces to him and they took a bit of time to get a feel of the new kid, they quickly accepted him as one of the guys. He still had a ways to go to catch up with the rest of the group, not being able to talk to them too much outside of school. Donny's late arrival to NSHS led to a huge workload in order for him to catch up with his peers. His parents didn't expect straight A's from the boy but they wanted him to do his best and graduate come June.

A light bulb went off in his head. Setting his Powerade down, he called out to the boys. "Hey guys, I've got an idea."

Stopping their debate, the boys turned towards Donny, surprise etching their faces as he barely spoke since they sat down. "What's up, Donny?"

"I think we should chill at one of our houses and spend the night. Y'know, shoot the shit, play video games…besides, I want to see what kind of trouble I should expect from my new friends." As the idea sunk into their heads, Donny smirked as they all pondered.

Milhouse was the first to speak up. "Hey, that doesn't sound so bad…"

Lewis was next. "Yeah, when's the last time we all had a sleepover?"

Nelson rolled his eyes and pointed a thumb at Richard. "Not since Dick here was dating Ashley." The gray-haired boy glared at him before grumbling. "You could've just said July, asshat."

Before the two could start an argument, Bart jumped in. "Anyways…I think that could work out. Nice job, Donny!" The Simpson boy gave the dirty blonde a fist bump while grinning. "Any objections?" The rest of the guys shook their heads, satisfied with the suggestion. For the next few minutes, they talked about what movies and games to bring, what foods they were planning to eat and what time was best for the party to start. The next question that came up halted the excitement.

"Okay, now who's house are we staying at?" Donny's question was met with silence as they all realized they forgot to discuss an important part of the plan. The group looked at each other with uncertain looks as a few of them knew why the party couldn't be held at their house.

Richard's parents were going to be home all weekend and weren't a fan of the company he kept, surely they wouldn't allow the boys to spend the night. Lewis' family had moved into an apartment a couple of years ago and didn't have the space to accommodate everyone. Milhouse's parents took Saturday night as an opportunity to 'get reacquainted' and have done so for the past seven years. Nelson, well…that was never an option from the beginning. Donny would've been willing to hold the get-together at his house but his parents preferred to get to know his friends before they would let them spend the night; it was just too soon. This left Bart as he had to think of any reason why Homer or Marge would say no.

They informed the kids a couple of days ago that they planned to go out for dinner with Flanders and some of the parents from the church Saturday so he didn't have to worry about them constantly checking in. He had managed to gain their trust a while ago and let him invite a few friends over multiple times, so long as they cleaned up their mess and didn't cause any damage. He couldn't see why they wouldn't allow the sleepover.

"Alright, we can have it at my place. Let me just check in with the folks tonight and I'll text you guys if it's on or not."

With that confirmation, the boys whooped loudly in satisfaction, gaining the attention of a few nearby tables.

~•~•~•~

Heads turning at the surge of noise coming from behind, Lisa and her friends turned their head to see where the commotion was coming from. Seeing that Bart and his table were the cause of it, the blonde shook her head before turning back around in her seat. Some things never changed with her brother.

"Anyways, as I was saying…" Alex's voice piped up, continuing the conversation taking place before the interruption. "We need to get together and do something this weekend, ladies. It has been way too long since we've all hung out together!"

Nina nodded in agreement, popping a grape into her mouth and chewing. "Damn straight. If I have to spend another Saturday holed up in my house, I'm going to lose it! What are we doing, though?"

Sophie tapped her fork against the edge of her tray while thinking. "Just what can we do, though? The usual shopping trip, hit up a restaurant or movie and then split?"

Allison sighed and shook her head. "No offense girls but I think we should do something different this time around. I can only go into Forever 19 so many times…"

Alex nodded in agreement. "No, you've got a point Alli. We need to spice things up! Any suggestions?"

The girls sat there as they contemplated in silence, trying to think of what they haven't done yet. Becky broke the silence a few seconds later. "Maybe we can visit another town? Uh…how does Waverly Hills sound?"

The others winced and shook their heads at the suggestion, Lisa speaking up. "Becks, that doesn't sound like a good idea. I don't think any of us sans Alex have Waverly Hills money." The fashionista butted in soon after Lisa finished speaking. "Even so, the people there are such entitled snobs." Alex said this with venom, still sore about her last trip to the district in which she lost out on the last Louis bag to some trust fund brat who insisted that middle-class trash didn't deserve such a bag. She had a personal vendetta towards that whole area.

Pouting as her idea was shot down, Becky took a bite of her mac and cheese. "Well, there goes my contribution."

"Ooh, hold on, I have an idea!"

Nina was the one to speak up, catching the attention of her friends. With a cat-like grin, she gave her two cents. "Let's have a good, old-fashioned slumber party."

Immediately, the girls gave their answers in the form of squeals and compliments. Everyone pitched in with ideas of just what they planned to do at the party; painting nails, fixing their hair, watching movies, gorging on junk food and confessing what boys they had their eyes on. Before the group could get too wrapped up in the excitement, Lisa halted the discussion. "Ladies, ladies, let's back it up a little. Where are we having the slumber party?"

The rest of the girls looked at each other for a second before looking at the blonde with a mischievous smile, not missing a beat in their response. "Your place."

Lisa's jaw dropped as they put the spotlight on her. "What?! Wait a minute, why are you all agreeing to this? Did you plan this ahead of time? I call mutiny!"

Sophie chuckled at her reaction before reaching over and patting the Simpson girl on the shoulder. "Relax, Lise, it's not a mutiny! We just always seem to have the best time at your house versus ours." The rest of them nodded at her explanation as Alex joined in. "She's right, Lisa. There's just so much energy at your house, it's addictive."

While Lisa appreciated the compliments, she still was unsure about playing host. Her parents gave notice that they were going to be out Saturday night and Bart was scheduled to work early in the day, leaving her home to watch Maggie. Even if her little sister wasn't around, she wasn't at that age where her parents fully trusted her to be alone with her friends in the house. The babysitting incident from her youth still had lingering effects to this day. "Hmm, I don't know…"

Seeing that her best friend was still hesitating, Alex snapped her fingers. "Tell you what. Why don't we each pitch in with something for the party so all Lisa has to worry about is asking her parents for permission?" Each of the girls nodded at her solution.

Becky piped in. "I can bring the nail polish!"

Sophie joined also. "I can bring the hair products!"

Nina gave her voice. "I call dibs on bringing the music!"

Allison spoke up. "I've got the movies handled!"

Alex finished. "That leaves me with the food. I'll see if Winston can take us to the grocery store before the party, Lise. Looks like we just need your parents' blessing, hm?" The platinum blonde emphasized this with a wink.

Lisa had to give it to the girl; she knew how to work her way around a difficult situation. "Alright…I'll talk to my parents tonight about it. Just keep your phones on you so I can text you guys." The table erupted into cheers as their plan was coming to fruition, leaving a smile on Lisa's face as she was starting to feel the excitement as well.

This Saturday was going to be wild.

~•~•~•~

What's this? Another chapter so soon?

The next chapter may or may not be longer than it's previous ones, I'm hoping to start establishing some character traits and relationships ahead of time so this story can really get rolling. I was able to start this one immediately after I uploaded chapter 8 but I can't promise the same for chapter 10. I want it to be as thorough as possible before the drama really starts so it might take a few days before I upload again.

In the meantime, please leave reviews if you enjoyed or have any criticisms! Thank you!