It's been what, a month? But as said before things have been really busy lately, plus with me stuck in a rut on this story it took me a while to get things sorted out. Tell me what you guys think, and I'll update as soon as I have time.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Powerpuff Girls in any way, shape or manner as the rights belong to Craig McCracken.

Chapter 13

A Tango Between Rivals

After the bell rang for fifth period, (Kimberly Tanaka) looked up at Bubbles expectantly. The question was simple enough, and yet the blonde couldn't stop staring at her with such a dubious expression.

-Bubbles-

"Brook? Are you there?" After she waved her arms at me I looked back at Kim to see her arms crossed expectantly for an answer."So can you come to the mall?"

I stammered for an excuse. "B-But you guys don't even like me!"

"Of course we like you!" Kim cried with a bright smile. "Otherwise you wouldn't be on the team silly!"

I was about to mumble something about why I really joined, but then I thought about what Blossom would say.

Are you insane!? Then I remembered she hates skipping school.

But this could be a really good chance for you to bond with the team! It couldn't hurt.. too much. "Can I bring someone?"

Bella turned back two us with a forced grin. "Sure! Why not." Like it or not Becky had to come. It's the only way I could breathe easier around them.

"Okay, when do we go?"

"Veronica's is having a huge sale and I wanna get there first before anyone else." She turned back at me with a cocked eyebrow. "You don't have anything to do for your next class, right?"

Sure chem. Isn't my strongest class, but with Boomer as my partner it might be better keeping my distance for a while. "Nope. Let's go!" Hopefully Blossom won't notice me gone.

-Blossom-

-Next Period-

I expected student council to be a bit bigger, but it still gave me chills knowing I could finally make a difference in the town and knew that it was worth abandoning a few minutes of Pre-Cal.

Looking up I noticed the Council's president was in my debate team. Diane Simmons was someone that looked sharp, keen, and sometimes unapproachable. Pressing her lips, she took in a deep breath before making the announcement.

"Okay guys. Before we begin I'd like to introduce Brianne Underhill as one of our newest members!" she sent a bright smile in my direction as everyone clapped enthusiastically over my arrival. "From her records I think she'll be a great addition to Student Council. Now as we all know the Spring Formal for underclassmen will be exactly two months after Prom. Next week we'll start working on some themes for Prom…and how we're even going to find any of the money for that."

As I got my stuff for class I could see Diana cheerfully walking towards me. "Hey there! Hope you're enjoying SGA so far."

I can't imagine how happy she must be to have someone join considering how small they are. "Oh yeah, in fact this is probably my favorite group so far! I just feel like when I involve myself like this I'm making a difference in people's lives and it feels amazing." I wanted to stop talking but I kept blabbering like some idiot as I scrambled for my sheets. "I can't thank you enough for–ow!" A sharp pain prickled my finger and a tiny trickle of blood slipped to the floor.

"I'm guessing you're not very pain tolerant." I looked back up to see Diane casting me a sympathetic look. "Paper cut. Don't worry I get them all the time. You okay?"

"Yeah," I mumbled distantly, still in shock from the cut. "I just.. really don't like seeing blood."

"If you go to the nurse you can get some Vaseline and a band-aid; she's pretty nice. I'll get you a new copy of the form."

As she walked away I turned back to my finger feeling confused. Indestructible skin doesn't tear from something as small as a paper cut.

Then I turned my wrist over and examined the watch Gladys gave us, wondering if it was doing more than just monitoring.

-Meanwhile on Interstate 10-

Townsville reporter Sandra Stewart fidgeted impatiently at the red light as though with every tap of her finger she's be that much closer to the checkpoint to drop off not only her daughter, but the awkward situation she deals with every week just to give her to Seth.

"Your signal."

Sandra instinctively plastered a fake smile and turned to the soft voice next to her. "What was that?"

"Your signal light. You need to turn it on." Becky mumbled, her eyes still glued to the windshield.

"Oh, thank you dear." But she didn't know if whether or not the girl said that to break the silence or if she's trying to boost her chances at getting a car.

After another five minutes of the uncomfortable silence Sandra sighed to herself. It's not to say she didn't love her daughter; God forbid anything happen to her! But it was like the girl had built a steel electrocuted wall around herself the minute she and Seth announced their divorce. For years she's tried to get Becky involved in anything to fill the gap.

But she just makes things so difficult. "How's school?"

"Good."

"Anything going on lately…? How's the club?"

"Great." Becky looked down at her bitten fingernails. "We're almost done with the yearbook."

Sandra gave her an authentic smile for the first time from pride. "I figure you guys would be wrapping up! Did I tell you I was a part of Journalism at your age?" And had twice as many friends?

Becky raised her eyebrows in mock surprise as she pretended to be involved with her phone. "Yep…how could I forget?" Even though you told me this seven times already.

"You never know when a hobby will turn into a lifelong career." She declared proudly, unaware of the phone alert. Becky immediately turned back to her phone trying to keep herself from looking as desperate as she felt.

-Brooke-

::Hey Becky! :-D You busy?::

The student cast a small glance in her mother's direction before turning back to the phone screen.

-Facing one of the most awkward conversations in my life… but no not really.-

::^_^ Great! Let's go shopping!::

Becky was crestfallen. Of all the times she would've loved to go shopping and Brook had to call on that weekend, one spent with nothing but homework, a guitar, and some cheap Chinese takeout. Nonetheless, it's an option she would've taken over her mother's in a heartbeat.

I'm sorry Brooke, but we just left the city early for my dad's place in Indio so he can be at work on time.

It was a while before Brooke texted back. Now she has no one to keep her company, and Becky would hate for her to stay home because of her.

Another alert came from her phone. ::Oh it's okay! I can always ask someone else.::

Becky reread the words, wondering if it was the truth. -Really?-

::Don't worry about it! Bye!::

"Was that Brooklynn?" Without waiting for Becky to answer, her mother looked back at the windowsill absentmindedy. "She seems like a nice girl."

Becky nodded her head forlornly, wondering if her friend's reassurances were all just a front to keep her from worrying. I just hope she's okay.

-Bubbles-

I closed the phone feeling like I just got rejected. Of course Becky had to go to see her dad, she said she goes there every weekend! If I called sooner, maybe I wouldn't have to go to the mall alone with two strangers.

"Where're we going now?" I asked Kim.

"Joanne's place. She told her mom she wasn't feeling well so she could stay home."

By the time Bella turned right brownstone apartments lined up next to the sidewalks before we parked beside one of them.

"Does she know I'm coming?"

"Umm.. she will!" Kim seemed unsure but tried to look hopeful, making me feel worse.

Once Bella honked her horn Joanne a came out of a dark red brick apartment in green sweats, but before she waved at the car her happy expression fell when she saw me.

"Well?" Bella asked impatiently. Her and Joanne had a brief stare down before Joanne finally grabbed her purse.

"All right, let's go!" As the car drove off to the mall I still felt a little confused, so I turned to Kim since she was right next to me now.

"If you don't mind me asking, why is Joanne planning this? Yeah people skip all the time, but I never really took her for the type."

I stole another glance at Joanne and thought about how pretty she looked with long black corkscrew curls and honey brown toned skin. Instead of snickering with Bella like I see in cheerleading, she kept her eyes on the window as we drove past all the buildings, as if her mind was far away from here and had better things to worry about.

She seems… sensible.

"Since you asked –and you didn't hear it from me!–" Kim scooted closed to me and spoke in a low whisper. "Joanne just got dumped by her boyfriend and probably wants some payback."

"By going shopping?"

"With the money she got from pawning his purity ring," Kim stole yet another glance at the captain. "and knowing her this is probably just the beginning." But just by looking at her it didn't seem like she'd do something so petty though, but then again I have been wrong before about people.

"My word of advice to you would be to stay at least 3 feet away from her, and we might make it out of this place limbs intact."

We? MY heart warmed at the thought of being included in the group, even if it was from avoiding another teammate. Maybe the mall won't be so bad.

-Buttercup-

Of all the thing I could be doing I had to be stuck taking anger management classes. Whoever came up with this torture should be shot.

As if on cue Mr. Lee turned to me and gave me a bright smile before opening the Chamber to Hell. "Ms. Underhill, glad to see you again."

"Don't push it." I muttered and went downstairs. At least I get some time to myself.

But instead of seeing my usual weights there were two seats with a small table between them. I turned back to Mr. Lee for an answer and he responded back with another one of his stupid grins.

"Today instead of focusing on venting your anger let's focus on why you have it in the first place." He went over to sit on one of the chairs and leaned forward."Any ideas?"

"Maybe it's from the Asian prick that won't mind his own business." I retorted.

"Bree there's no need for you to resist help. That's all that this is; help so that we can provide a better outlet for you, and later on perhaps even a solution."

This dude just doesn't get it. "What makes you think I need help? I lashed out on a spoiled bitch, I hardly think that's a reason for 'help.'"

"There's always an excuse." Someone called out. When I turned around i saw Mitch came from the hall with a crooked grin. "Trust me you'll find billions in here."

I sent him an icy glare. "And who invited you into our conversation?"

"I'm sorry I didn't know I had to be invited." He snorted from against the wall.

"And he doesn't." Mr. Lee nodded approvingly in his direction. "Mitch speaks from experience from his own dilemmas."

I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows at the comment. "Like becoming the future dropout of West Coast?"

I tried not to snicker at his dark expression. "Got some balls talking about that when you almost got expelled."

"Almost. I can count the number of times you've been in school on one hand and when I do see you you're either smoking a joint or already hammered out of your mind by then!" I snapped angrily.

"You know I've seen a lot of fights in school -some of them caused by me-, but I don't think I ever saw someone capable of launching teenage girls ten feet across a lunch table."

I clenched my jaw stubbornly. "Your point?"

The smirk all but disappeared from his face. "You can make a list of all the problems I got sweetheart, but the best part about it is that I couldn't give a damn. 'Least I have the balls to admit to 'em. What's your excuse?"

Someone with a knife against my back to keep it secret. Suddenly my head snapped to the sound of gunshots ringing from the right hallway. Before I ran towards the sound, Mr. Lee put his arm in front of me while Mitch walked over to the door.

"Luckily for you you're not the only one in here that uses denial." He mumbled.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I followed him to the end of the hallway to where a door stood with a small window and music blasting from the walls. By the time I looked through the window I felt my skin turn cold.

"Jasper Robinson has a distinctive method of unleashing her negative emotions, target practice in particular." Mr. Lee added from behind.

Mitch narrowed his eyes like he was trying to get a better view. "She kinda looks like that girl from Resident Evil. Pretty hot."

Apparently I was the only person that saw something wrong with the situation. "Isn't Ginger a little young to use guns like that?"

"It's not like she's gonna shoot up the Gym."

"But she's my age!"

"Jasper isn't a very confrontational person." Lee added. "In fact she happens to be more passive aggressive."

I just stared at him, thinking of all the times I spoke with this girl. Passive Aggressive My Ass!

"When it gets to be too much for her she focuses all that negative energy into a controlled outlet, which for her case is the target. In fact, she has much more skill in controlling her anger than others in here."

"Beats throwing people over tables…" Mitch muttered before leaving the hallway. I followed them, but all I could think about was how crazy this guy must be. "So… you don't mind that you could be training America's Next Top Assassin in there?"

"Frankly it's none of you damn business anyway!" I didn't even notice the music turned off and saw Ginger coming out of the hallway with a pair of Radians shooting glasses glaring right in my direction.

"I think I have the right to know if someone has a freaking pistol in here!" I countered.

"It shoots bebes moron! You already make my life in school a living hell, I don't need the same thing here!"

"That's funny since you came to me when you needed help! You scare off so many people that you can't even find one person that gives a danm about you? That's pretty pathetic!"

"This coming from the girl who can't last a day without starting shit with half the school? I don't know where the hell you came from sweetheart, but cocky bitches like you are at least smart enough to keep their mouths shut."

"Why don't you do us all a favor and just go away, it's not like anyone's gonna miss some worthless piece of crap!"

"Oh", she widened her eyes in mock surprise "didn't Princess said the same thing to your sister?"

I grabbed her by the collar and shoved her against the wall while she clawed at my grip. "Yeah except you'll have a lot worse than soup on you face!" But by the time I was ready to let go of her, she kicked me square in the gut and shoved me to the floor knocking the air out of my lungs, leaving me in shock.

What the fuck…?

Ginger looked down at me from behind Mitch's arm and smirked in my direction. "Aww, did I hit kitten too hard?"

Blood rushed towards my face as I charged towards her before Mr. Lee grabbed a hold of my t-shirt and yanked me back.

"Enough!" He looked back to the other two in shock, like he's never seen her act that way. "Is this some sort of rivalry?"

"It's a lot more than a competition, sensei." She grumbled.

I let out a growl from behind Mr. Lee. "Oh trust me there's no competition with you."

"Wanna prove it then?"

"I'm begging to!" Before I could break away from his grip, Mr. Lee dragged the two of us into the nearest private workout room and locked the door behind him. Not like it'd make any difference to me, or at least it shouldn't.

And Ginger shouldn't have been able to shove me like that. Something was definitely wrong, but I'd have to deal with it later. Our trainer looked at the two of us with another one of his obnoxious smiles to start up another one of his speeches.

"Now ladies, it's obvious there are some strong feelings in this room, however this is something that can be solved right now depending on your willingness to resolve the conflict. The best way to resolve a conflict between two parties is through compromise. The only way to compromise is through communication. Now is there anything you girls would like to say to each other?"

For a long time none of us said anything, and by the look on Mr. Lee's face he wouldn't leave us alone until one of us said something. So you might as well have fun with it.

Mr. Lee saw my hand raised and responded with an even brighter smile while Ginger gave me a suspicious look. "Yes Bree, is there something you'd like to speak on?"

"Do the curtains match the drapes?"

"Fuck you!"

Mr. Lee stared at the two of us for a long time while we glared at each other. But eventually with a deep sigh he stood up and turned for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Ginger demanded.

"Can't you get fired?"

"I own the place. Furthermore your guardians told me to take whatever measures necessary for improvement. Unless the two of you start taking this class seriously, you'll be looking at jail!"

We exchanged dubious looks before turning back to him. "So?"

The instructor knit his eyebrows together, clearly running low on patience. "Here are some water bottles. If I don't see any progress between the two of you girls, you'll be staying in this room until tomorrow morning."

"What if I need to use the bathroom?!" But the only response he gave was by locking the door shut with me and this maniac.

-Butch-

"BLAYKE!" Mr. Dupris knocked on the door to the training room and held out his hand as a warning time "Five minutes!"

Not much left to do anyway, so I finished with jump ropes to help with nerves. By now the adrenaline's rushing through my body, ready for another win, or maybe just another chance to do someone in.

By the time I was in the mirror I could see how much sweat's slid off my face and how it dropped from my chin. I didn't put on some extra gel, and now my hair's just flopping around my face like a wet mop, making me feel irritated. The hair's annoying as fuck and it distracts me from the opponent.

"You should keep your hair like that… I like it."

As I stared in the mirror I felt a strange sense of remorse coming back to me, and for a moment I left the training room, this place, or the city altogether. The sound coming from upstairs disappeared, the training room blurred away and it was just me and the mirror, calling me back to something from the past. I stopped using the jump rope to the point of where I had to drop it and just stared at that stranger in the mirror.

…

She glanced up at me with a criticizing look. But I refused to look and just went back to making some mac and cheese.

"Why's your hair so spiked up?" she asked "You look like some kid off of Dragonball!"

I rolled my eyes at her. "It's a faux hawk, and why're you askin me all these damn questions!?"

"Because you never answer them!" she snapped back.

"Just did!"

"Did not!"

"DID TOO!"

"NOT!"

"Well fuck you!" I shouted.

"At least I can answer YOUR question!"

Bullshit, I snorted. But just as I was about to give her a snarky reply, she was right in front of me and my heart stopped beating for a minute. She had that same critical look, but mixed with curiosity, almost amusement even.

"I ask all these 'damn questions' because I think what you doing to yourself is mentally retarded.

I narrowed my eyes at her, unsure if she was actually saying those words to me.

"Such as your hair. It smells like living shit, so change it." Amy took the pot of water from the stove and poured it right on top of my head as cheap pasta poured onto the floor. The spiked hair I spent so much time on was slipping from the sides of my face with the smell of hair gel burning through my nose while she smirked at me.

"And that's how you answer a question, genius." She left after that and I had to clean up the place, but with all the time my mind spent on her, I felt enraged, annoyed, frustrated, but for once curious of her. Gradually the corner of my mouth curled into a grin that I haven't noticed in years, and for once…

I felt alive.

The mirror cracked into pieces under my fist as sudden anger boiled through my veins. My arms started shaking the more I tried to erase her from my mind, and for a while it was all I could do to keep myself from yelling out in anger. Why did she have to die? Why did they blame me? Why was everything so fucking unfair?

"Blayke!" Mr. Dupris ran to where I was and looked at my fist for any cuts before I took it away.

"I'm fine. Just hit it on accident. Got a hairpin? I can't see shit with my hair like this." You're done with her. Move on. She's not important.

The minute I stepped in the blazing white lights were all on me as the crowd roared my name. Out of all the sports I played, nothing beats something like this. No team, no drama, just me myself and I.

Looking over the crowd –or what little of it that I can see from the lights– I see a few regulars. The drunks, the juicers, and then front row in the middle of all of them was my number one fan. Wavy light brown hair highlighted to a neon red with black edges and with bright turquoise eyes. Sasha was probably the smallest person here, but she never got missed.

::WELCOME ONE AND ALL! Here to challenge the victor is a man weighing in at 142 pounds of sheer muscle and vigor, feast your eyes on the courageous competitor: HERMANN "SPIDERMONKEY" WILLIS!::

Hermann? Looking up at the floor there was a scrawny guy getting up against the boos and jeers with a long pale face and droopy dark brown eyes. This won't last long.

::And he comes for yet another chance for victory! Weighing in at 161 pounds, he's the ruthless… the brutal… the REIGNING CHAMPION for TWO YEARS… BLAYKE "THE ROGUE" JONES!::

Walking towards the floor the crowd started cheering again until I first made eye contact with Hermann. His eyes looked like two black holes, never leaving me out of their sight.

::Aah, you could just feel the heat from these two competitors! This is gonna be a great match folks!::

The ref came with the rules. "Here are the rules! When you got him pinned, you get a point. First person to get two wins out of three rounds wins the competition! Any questions?" After a brief silence in agreement, he motioned with his arms to explain the next set of rules against the loud roar surrounding us. "Punches, kicks, and holds are all you get, nothing else! I want this clean and I want it fair. Got it? On my mark…"

RRRIIINNNG! Before the bell even rang I charged towards Spidermonkey aiming straight for his skull, but he did a quick dive to my right and tried a tackle to my side. It would've worked if I was human, but unfortunately for the poor bastard I'm not.

Grabbing him by the waist I slammed him into the ground with a loud smack. The crowd's screeching, like bloodthirsty vultures at the sight of prey. I'm coming in for the kill.

No time to spare. I sat on top of him and threw my fists wherever I saw white.

…her face was white. Porcelain. Almost angelic; she was my fallen angel…

I could even feel his jaw breaking under my knuckles. The blood, the cracking bones, it felt invigorating.

…his blood's staining my knuckles…

"I SAID STOP!" The ref yanked me from behind and gave me a bewildered look before he started the next round.

People look at me like I'm a monster…

At this point I can hear the audience again. They're shrieking in agony, dying for more blood.

Get used to it, because I am one.

The lights… they won't stop glaring at me. My eyes feel like they're on fire from the porcelain light, fueling the adrenalin.

Am I in Heaven or Hell?

"ROUND TWO!" Spidermonkey's back. A little bruised up from before but still looked just as determined as he did before the game.

"Fight!" Can't pull off another charge like before, so I step carefully. He does too so we look like mirrors of each other in a dance. This dude's eyes were locked with mine through the entire time. He wanted the belt, and he'd be willing to kill for it.

The crowd's going silent, but you could just feel how annoyed they were getting. Gotta put on a show soon. I neared towards the opponent slightly, just enough before he noticed, the next second I swung my fist. He swerved away. I swung my left fist and he dodged again, barely scraping my skin.

"Little bastard!" I grabbed him into a double under-hook as he screeched angrily. His fists kept thrashing at me to let go, but I made sure the grip was strong. The crowd's screaming my name…

This guy's a freak!

Get away from us!

I'm losing my grip. Spidermonkey ripped himself away with an uppercut coming straight towards my forehead in a flash, the same place she hit from before.

Blood's gushing out from the side of my head and I instinctively try to block it with my glove. Shit…! He must've saw it before the fight and took advantage of the bruise like a chink in armor. Little weasle's gonna pay for that.

The second I looked up he was already on the other side of the ring, fists up and ready for the next attack, bouncing on the balls of his feet to make a quick dodge when he needed it. Spidermonkey; the name suited him.

I stood still for two more seconds before rushing forward, swinging my leg to his side. My shin rammed through his chest with a loud smack! as two of his ribs snapped underneath my weight. This is it; no one gets up after a hit like that.

But he was still there. No, he there holding my leg in place with both arms as his chest quivered from pain. He was ready to heave a mouthful of blood, but Spidermonkey just dug his nails in deeper for a better grip and drove me back with my leg until I was on the floor.

Instead of hitting me, he took me in for the chokehold to the rear as I grappled with his arms trying to break free. The lights keep glaring at me as I thrash like a caged animal.

Suddenly I'm back at the abandoned playground. Nobody's there except for her. Even with dirt caking her face and blonde hair twisted, she still had that same smirk brighten her face.

Thanks for sticking up for me back there. I really appreciate it.

I'm officially losing it.

"STOP!" I'm back and the crowd's cheering again, for who I don't know anymore. Spidermonkey's pacing even more now, he thinks he has a chance.

"ON MY MARK!" I take off my robe. Shit's getting serious now. I can't even hear the crowds. I don't see the lights glaring. There's no Amy. There're no rich parents here to blame you for their shit. Not a green puff in sight. Just Spidermonkey, a kid that's about to get his ass given to him. You can take him; you can take him easy.

RRIIINNG! We walk slowly around the ring, watching each other for one mistake, one slip up in this dance.

His legs. I could trip him if he wasn't so steady. In two freaking seconds this guy changes from a hyperactive animal into a complete trance. Calm, focused, hell-bent for the win.

For a split second, I thought his eyes were lime green.

And then I slipped.

Spidermonkey switched right back into hyperactive mode and rushed towards me, never missing a step. He's too fast, I tried dodging but he tripped me from below, nailing me to the floor. With his fist set he swung but I caught it, fighting with him for control. His brown eyes turned into two black holes, sucking me in like he was fighting for his life.

The crowd was back and wilder than I've ever heard it. Looking at the lights was pure agony as it burned through my eyes. I turned to my right and there she was. Green eyes, porcelain face and that golden smirk.

And she was laughing at me.

Then the ref's voice fazed back into my conscious. "7…8…9…"

I threw him back against the floor and started pummeling him, ready to finish the job. One hit… two… four…. Spidermonkey's hitting me back with all he's got, cause that's all he has left in this match. In a way I feel like we've been dealt the same shitty hand, and we're giving all we've got to fight it back before it takes us down with it.

He hit me in that same spot again for the fourth time and it's starting to bleed even worse.

Aww, Butchie gotta wittle boo-boo?

I hit even harder, enough to make him go into a coma. "Quit."

He keeps hitting, but they're slower now.

"Quit it."

I'm looking at the bloody, grotesque mess that's his face, but even then his arms swing feebly around me, desperately trying to make contact. Spidermonkey doesn't give up. He won't give up, fighting a fate that he never had a decision on. He never will.

"Why won't you just fucking quit already!?"But by the look in his eyes he was already gone. Barely breathing in fact.

The ref gave me a wary look, the same one those kids on the playground would give me before gently removing him from my hands and placing him onto the gurney. The lights turned off, and the crowd's leaving as the announcers congratulate me on a "Tremendous Achievement." Sasha's fighting through the guards in protest.

"Let me go! Look I'm a friend of the winner! Blayke tell them!"

I didn't care, plus I needed a ride. I motioned them away as Sasha leaped in front of me over how great the fight was. The uppercuts, chokeholds, the under-hook, I don't even pay that much attention to it.

"And the way you just nailed him first round… Genius!" But I guess that's why she's a favorite; none of the frilly bullshit. I looked back to the gurney as Spidermonkey's getting loaded onto the ambulance truck.

"Soo…" she lowered her voice and stepped a bit closer and fluttered her bright mascara. "You wanna ditch this place and come over to my house? Parents are gone for the weekend and I feel like you could use some R&R with your win tonight."

I look in her eyes to find nothing but turquoise, so I might as well get used to it. Beats cleaning up the house with Brick and Boomer anyway. I feel numb to everything this world offers me, but I never felt better.

"Let's ditch this place."

-Buttercup-

Are you shitting me...

It's 10:00, we haven't said a peep to each other, and I'm starting to panic because I might have to sleep in here. There has to be some law against this sort of punishment!

Ginger shifted in her seat for the tenth time tonight while her breathing just got louder. I stole a glance at her direction to see sweat covering her forehead and neck as she twitched her head around the room to find another exit.

Is she claustrophobic? When she noticed me staring at her, the fidgeting got replaced by a nasty glare. "I'm outta here." She growled "We've been here for three hours, I'm hot, I'm tired, and I'm about to beat the living shit out of you if you don't get your ass over here and help me!"

I flinched from her sudden comment, but looking around the room there's no way she was serious. "Got any ideas, genius?"

"The window." She pointed to the row of small windows on the upper right wall bring in the moonlight. "Since this place is underground, that thing's probably our best bet of reaching the surface . If I'm able to reach it I can unscrew the bolts and get us out to the sidewalk."

"And how're you gonna unscrew the bolts?"

"I'll improvise!" she snapped. "Have any better ideas?"

"And why should I trust you? When you reach the window I'll be good as dead when Jet Li figures out what's going on!"

"Indoor Speakers, remember? All we have to do is blast some loud music and he'll think we're working out together. Oh and here." She tossed a small bebe gun in my direction. "Collateral. If I leave you behind, I'd be leaving my best gun."

What's there to lose? "Let's get this over with." After barring the door with whatever we had around the room, I was getting ready to play a random song on my playlist. Staind came up until she snatched the wire connecting to the speakers.

"Uh, no." The redhead held up her own iPod. "Dubstep. Bass blocks out any sort of vibrations coming from our voices or the window. Common sense."

I rolled my eyes and crouched to the floor to give her a leg up onto my shoulders. "Whatever, just get on!"

"What the hell are you doing I don't wanna fall!" she protested.

"Well you better take your chances because there's no way you can reach the window on my back! Common sense."

Mr. Lee sat reading the Art of War as he waited to hear results from the girls. It wasn't like he had asked them for something very difficult, but in the next ten minutes he knew he had to concede and let them out, knowing fully well how bad that would look to the parents of the students.

Then the teacher snapped up from his book to the sound of loud music coming from the private room and the sound of arguing.

"…move your foot!…"

"…I'm trying! …when was the last time you washed your hair?…"

"…When was the last time you tried Weight Watchers, fat ass!…"

"I swear to God if you drop me…"

"Don't tempt me." I grumbled. This is supposed to be a piece of cake! Since when were humans so heavy?

"You see anything?" I looked up for any progress on out prison break to see her pull out a Bobby pin to unlock the window. THIS is her idea of improvising?

"You're using a goddamn BOBBY PIN?!" I screeched just as the music stopped.

There came an urgent knock on the door. "Jasper? Bree? What's going on in there?"

I paled at the sound of his voice. "Shit…" We are now Officially Screwed. "Hurry up!"

"It's your big mouth that got us in this mess!"

True, and if I stay here any longer, I wasn't gonna get out of these classes until I was packing for college, if I'm still alive until then.

"It's open!" She leaped off of my shoulders to crawl out the window, forcing me to the floor while she was just about to make her escape.

"Hello? Can't leave without your favorite toy!"

She looked back down at me with a smug grin. "Hell yeah I can! Got four more at home just like it. Have fun with Jet Li!"

I gaped at her in disbelief. That Bitch!

"Briony Underhill and Jasper Robinson," Gladys called me Briony? She's gonna pay for that later."I'm going to count to three, if this door isn't opened by then I'll open it myself to prepare you two for what going to happen in the next 6 hours."

"Six Hours!?" He can't be serious!

"One…" I flung myself into the air to get to the window but could only make it five feet. I froze in horror at my luck. I CAN'T EVEN FLY?

"Two…"

After trying every move I slumped against the wall in defeat. I wouldn't hear the end of this with the Professor.

Suddenly a black jacket hung from the open window with the sleeve going just beyond my reach.

"Grab it moron–!"

"THREE!" The weight shelf flew off the busted door and Mr. Lee marched into the room only to find an open window and bebe gun left from the two fugitives.

Oddly enough the trainer chuckled to himself in warm delight. It wasn't the way he planned it to be, but at least they did something together.

-Buttercup-

We ran for God knows how long, passing whatever seemed to resemble the gym or Mr. Lee. By the time Ginger stopped in front of me, I didn't even know where I was anymore.

"I think–I think we're good here–" she gasped, leaning onto an apartment building as if she'd drop without it.

"Thank God!" I groaned. Looking back from where we came from, it didn't look like Mr. Lee would even try to get us back with it being this late. I looked back at her for a while and she met my gaze with suspicion.

"What?" she demanded.

"Why'd you come back for me?"

Her face flushed into a bright red and I tried to force back snickers to hear her answer. "Because that gun cost me 30 bucks, and why don't you be grateful instead of asking all these damn questions!"

"Well I hope you're not expecting me to have it, because it's with Jet Li by now!" I snapped and veered off to the direction we came from.

"Plus…" Lucky for me my hearing was still there and I turned back to see her looking down on the sidewalk guiltily. "What I said was... uncalled for. My bad."

It seemed like an eternity before I spoke up again. "Where the hell are we?"

"The other side of Townsville. Near my flat actually." She mumbled sitting by the curb. Looking around this side of Townsville looked like a whole new city. The apartment buildings weren't nearly as tall as the skyscrapers downtown but instead were dark and worn with grime, trash lying on the floors of the buildings and the streets lined with cracks and broken glass everywhere.

It looks like a dump. "Never been on this side before."

The redhead let out a dark chuckle. "That's what I'd expect comin from you."

I felt my voice harden from the comment. "What are you implying?"

"It means you've got a silver spoon up yer ass."

I glared at her in protest, ready to come up with a witty remark, ready to protest my place, but seeing things in her eyes and where she comes from, the girl living in downtown Townsville would seem to have a silver spoon up her ass. "You don't know anything about me." I murmured, thinking back to how many times I said the same thing about Princess.

"Don't need to. Your sister looks like she came off this year's Gucci catalog." She snorted. Thinking back to her outfit on Friday we both busted into giggles at that, surprising me a bit. "But she's not like that. Bubbles couldn't harm a fly."

"Who?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Her nickname." I felt so comfortable around this girl I almost forgot about the alias. Hopefully she didn't notice anything.

We both looked as the few cars that drove past us as if in no rush to get home, the people trudging by like they do through life. It's amazing how I can relate to these people more than I do with the one's on my own street.

I gazed at her for a while like I was seeing a whole different person. Someone human for once. She didn't have those annoying freckles like Princess, but her face was actually light olive, so I had to come up with a new nickname. Instinctively I sat by the curb with her, but she didn't notice a thing and took out a pack of cigarettes.

"And this, is where all the Ghosts live." She muttered bitterly.

For some reason I felt a twang of disappointment when she took a cigarette from the box but pushed it off quick. "I didn't know you were superstitious!"

"Not like that stupid." She smirked, but her eyes still looked bitter glowering at the streets. "Our mayor does such a nice job of parading our town he thinks it's okay to forget about the people in the dirt who could actually use the money he bribes off."

I remember the first time I came here. Looking at this place showed everything as a clear lie from Gladys or from whoever told her to say that, I couldn't know. Deciding to keep Gladys out of our secrets was probably the best decision we've made so far since coming here.

"So they call us Ghosts." She concluded taking a long drag of smoke before sneering at me. "Didn't your mom ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

"Didn't yours ever tell you smoking causes wrinkles?" I retorted.

The redhead almost flinched at the blunt comment, but she started to laugh again. "Never really had one, so I wouldn't know."

"That makes two of us."

She looked pensive for a moment before shooting me another icy glare. "Why're you still here anyway? Get lost!"

"I think I already am. Since I was following you, I have absolutely no freaking clue where I am unless you care to enlighten me."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you can enjoy having a visitor for once!" I beamed sarcastically.

She let out a deep sigh before turning back to me. "Where do you live?"

"What?"

"Where. Is. Your Home."

"Uh, Town Central."

She let out a small snicker. "See what I mean? Silver spoon up your ass."

"Listen bitch–"

"–Calm your tits Paris Hilton." She motioned towards the road with came from. "Just keep walking till you hit Main Street. Turn right and you should find your way from there."

That'll give me some time for an excuse. I took off but not until turning back one last time at the girl. "Ginger!" She shot me a look from the name, but I didn't really care. "Thanks."

She rolled her eyes. "Listen moron, if you wanna thank me, then call me by my real name. It's Jasper." Turning back, she made her way home without another word. Despite everything she's done to me, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her.

'Townsville's better than ever!' I thought about all the stuff Gladys told us about Townsville's success, their accomplishments, how much better off they were without us.

Is this what she thought of as better?

Spencer Residency

Cole Spencer sat with his parents and Mitch for a dinner filled with delight and cheer. His parents looked happier than they've benn in almost seven months, but all he could notice was how weird his friend looked in the chair beside him, and how for so long he;s been used to the ominous presence residing in it for so long, as if that presence controlled the dinner table and all of its conversations.

But apparently tonight would be different. His father made sure of that. "So Mitch, how's the food?" he inquired heartily.

"It's great Mrs. Spencer!" Mitch elbowed his quiet friend in the ribs to get him to speak up a little more, hopefully adding something to the conversation that's been going on for 2 hours now. "She's like the next Paula Deen or something!"

"Without the scandal, I hope!" Mr. Spencer joked lovingly. Cole snorted to himself. If there was one thing his family was good at, it was putting up appearances.

When the conversation died down, Mr. Spencer turned to his son expectantly. "So how's school Cole?"

A long silence ensued as Cole busied himself with the pasta.

"Cole."

The mechanic looked up from his plate in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you talking to me?"

The atmosphere then changed into something all too familiar. The tense silence grew between the two as if a hostile fight for authority settled into the room as Mrs. Spencer and Mitch fidgeted nervously in their seats, eager for the silence to die down.

Cole eventually got up from the seat with a look of resignation. "Excuse me."

"No." Mr. Spencer said sternly, setting his fork down "Supper is on the table, so everyone sits to enjoy it."

"Supper." the boy scoffed. "It's dinner, and I'm perfectly fine eating it alone, like before."

Mr. Spencer's jaw clenched tightly as he stared at his estranged son. For a moment as Mrs. Spencer fidgeted with her napkin, she feared her husband might have had the last straw with putting up with their son's resentment.

"So if you'll excuse me, I'll do just that in the garage." Cole's expression softened upon turning to his friend "Nice seeing you Mitch." The last thing he wanted when he invited him over was for this to happen. In fact, all he really wanted was to hear a real conversation for once.

Instead he sat alone in the garage as Mitch made up an excuse to leave. Not like I can blame him, he thought to himself as he got ready to work on the black bruised Jeep sitting in his garage.

But right before he could start his work, Cole froze at the sight of something quite unnatural. "What the hell is that…?"

-Brick-

"C'mon Boomer I'm already done with the kitchen!"

"That place barely had two scratches on it, I'm trying to fix our entire floor!" he protested from the dusty wood. "It'd be easier if Butch was here…"

"Well he's not, so put a little more elbow grease into it!" Where the hell is that idiot? I turned on my phone to call him, but got an alert instead. "What the hell?"

"What?"

"Cole sent me a pic."

"But it's close to midnight. Why's so important about a picture?" Boomer stopped pulling off the broken planks and came over to the kitchen.

-Cole-

::Found this on your car… any ideas?::

It was blurry, but we saw an indent of an Egyptian eye inside a circle was left on the side of the jeep where I shoved the burglar. It had to have been a lot harder than a tattoo, almost like stone.

I put down the phone slowly trying to keep my composure, but on the inside I felt like a man just sent to the electric chair.

Boomer looked at me in alarm. "Brick what is it?"

"They didn't do it…" I murmured softly.

"Who, the girls?"

"None of them did this." How could I have been so stupid? None of them could have. I looked back at him gravelly. "We're not just dealing with one person here Boomer."

Now it's only a matter of time. "We dealing with a cult."

That ends this chapter! The name Mr. Dupris and the reference to Butch's flashback were inspired by some really great movies like Remember Me and The Million Dollar Baby.

So what do you guys think? Of the OC's development, relationships, the plot? R&R!