Monday morning. Birds buzzing, bees singing, sun shining, homeless people drinking. Hair poofing. Mascara bleeding. Bebe dying. I rolled out of my cozy, soft, delicious bed into the freezing air. My room is so frigging cold…the shower will be a lot warmer.

It was only 7:00. I had time to wash, dry and straighten my hair, and in the mean time, put on makeup and clothes. I trudged down the hall, almost tripping over my mother, on her way back to bed with coffee and newspapers.

"Hello, Mum," I mumbled.

"Good morning, Bebe dear, I made you a bit of coffee and toast, if you like, and heated up the flat iron for you."

Wow!!

I clipped my hair up and steamed myself in the shower, making sure to smell extra-nice in case of Craig bumpage, and dressed quickly in a grey-and-white Hollister sweater and jeans. Put yourself through the paces, Bebe, I thought, mascara, liner, foundation, deodorant, Be Sexy body spray, clean ears, straighten hair. Straighten hair. Great. Have egg-on-toast and orange juice. Prepare Hot-Pocket and coke for lunch. Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Put clothes on, Bebe, you'll freeze. Get jacket. Whoops! Brush teeth with Scope for maximum freshness. Get jacket, get bookbag, and get completed math homework. Get out of the house. Get to bus stop. Plug into iPod. Hello, Wendy.

"Hi, Bebe, are you totally flipping excited?" Wendy shouted in my ear.

"No," I said, cutting my eyes to her. She was wearing a purple Aeropostale hoodie and yellow skinny jeans, tucked into boots. "Why should I be?"

"BECAUSE TODAY WE FIND OUT OUR ROLES IN GREASE!" Oh my god, that's right!!

"OH MY GOD!" We did stereo squealing and leaping.

"Who do you wanna be cast as?" I asked breathlessly.

"Who do you think? Sandy Olsen, durr." Of course. Who wouldn't?

"Oh my god, me too," I agreed. "But I'm fine with a smaller role. Like one of the Pink Ladies, or—or Betty Rizzo! Now that's a role. Lots of drama. And she gets pregnant with Kenickie! God, what if Craig plays Kenickie—I'd get to make out with him! And then we'd do it! But not really," I added, blushing.

"Bebe, darling, do you really think there will be sex in a seventh grader's school musical?"

"N-no," I said in a small voice, "but maybe—maybe there'll be a kiss scene."

"I think Stan has a good chance of being Danny Zuko. I saw Mr. Garrison looking at him."

"That's because Mr. Garrison was checking out his ass." I love being blunt and honest.

We continued to chatter away for awhile. Wendy had gotten a thermal lip-gloss over the weekend.

"Thermal lipgloss," I repeated, impressed. "Because Stan's mouth isn't warm enough for you in these chilly Colorado mountains."

The bus arrived, and we climbed on, still chatty and giggly. The ride to school seemed to take forever, but it finally dragged into view, and the bus vomited out its riders.

A massive group of kids had already crowded around the corkboard at the office, including Butters, Kyle, Stan, Rebecca, and Lola Palmer.

"Bebe, guess what! I-I'm a "stand-in"! What's that?"

"It means you suck, Butters, you little queer," said Kenny, who looked high and elated. "Good job, Bebe, and Wendy, by the way." He smiled, flashing his gorgeous blue eyes. I love Kenny. "Come see the sheet."

Excited, we elbowed Pip out of the way and went to look at the casting sheet. It looked like this:

Sandy Olsen--------------- Bebe Stevens

Danny Zuko---------------- Kenny McCormick

Betty Rizzo------------------ Rebecca Tucker

Frenchy---------------------- Wendy Testaburger

And so on. I felt like every internal organ had fallen out of my belly button and onto the floor. Lola Palmer was Marty in the Pink Ladies and everyone who tried out had gotten a role—even Butters, who was an understudy and a dancer. But more importantly, I had been cast as Sandy Olsen.

"KENNY!" I shrieked, dropping my bag and throwing my arms around him. He felt so strong…and warm…and he smelled great. I hugged him tighter. Stop it, Bebe, you whore. I let go of Kenny and beamed at him.

"Wow, Bebe, I wish you'd hug me like that more often," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

I swept the list with my eyes and found the sexy name Craig Tucker, playing second-in-command T-Bird Kenickie. Speaking of, he was coming through the crowd, and high-fived me.

"Wow, Bebe, congrats," he said calmly. I blushed red and managed a wide smile in my lightheadedness. I offered him a stick of gum. Craig pulled it out of the packet and slowly folded it into his mouth, then closed his cool blue eyes like the bubblemint taste was orgasmic. My mind roiled as I thought of him kissing Kenny McCormick. How hot would that be?

Something about Craig Tucker made my brain do weird things.

I stumbled off as the bell rang signaling the start of classes. We had not seen Rebecca all morning, and had missed the chance to congratulate her on her role. As Wendy and me walked, we chattered away giddily. Suddenly, the backs of my knees were whacked into and I dropped my books…

"BEBE! WENDY!" screamed Rebecca, shattering my eardrums. "I'M BETTY FRICKING RIZZO! AND WENDY IS FRICKING FRENCHY! AND BEBE IS FLIPPIN' SANDY OLSEN!"

"We KNOW!" we chimed in unison. "Congrats, by the way, Rebs, for making your role," I added, hugging her.

"Thanks. But honestly… Sandy Olsen… and opposite my Kenny…" she sighed.

"She won't entrance him, Rebecca, no worries," Wendy assured the redhead, glaring sideways at me. I crossed my arms and shrugged. Kenny was no match for the Sex Goddy charms of the delicious Craig Tucker…I was almost sure of it. Almost.

(a/n: whew. It's just past ten on Thursday night and I am asleep in this chair. anyway, chappie 4 is finally up! R&R please.)