Thank you to all my readers, and their patience, and the reviews. I really appreciate it! Much love.

DICLAIMER: Roses are red, voilets are blue, I don't own, so you can't sue! HA! Whatcha gon' do, gov? lol Sorry, once again, I couldn't help it.

Tootie decided to spend her Saturday going shopping for a prom dress in the mall. So far, her efforts had been fruitless."Three hours, two floors, and 13 stores, and none of them have anything good!" She shook her head. In the previous years, when she'd spend hours daydreaming about her own future prom, everywhere she looked, there were prom dresses. Now, it was her turn, and for some reason, suddenly, none of the dresses looked half as gorgeous as they used to. She entered the food court, purchased a hot pretzel and sat down.

She was about to bite in, when a flash of pale pink caught her eye. Tootie looked up. Much to her surprise, she saw Trixie and Veronica. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but couldn't help wondering if they were talking about the prom queen situation. Trixie was looking at her, arms crossed and an upset look on her face. Veronica looked slightly nervous, as if trying to persuade Trixie of something. Tootie wondered if she was pleading with Trixie not to be mad at her.

She shook her head. What did she care? She had her own agenda: finding a dress for the prom, which she was attending with Timmy. Timmy Turner. The object of her affection ever since she was eight. Ten whole years. And after a century of persistance, it finally paid off.

A grin grew on her face as she thought of how she nearly kissed Timmy on her doorstep the other day. She wondered if he had liked almost being kissed. Or hated not being kissed. Either one would suit her fine. But she doubted it. He doesn't like me romantically. Just as a friend. We're only going to prom as friends. She took a huge bite of pretzel, trying not to focus on that aspect. Instead, she tried to focus on how he'd look in a tux.

Her heart skipped a beat as that image entered her head. She could just see him looking so smooth in his tuxedo, a corsage in one hand, flowers in the other. His wonderfully blue eyes would be widened in amazment as he saw her in her dress. He'd hold her in his arms as they danced all night. And maybe...just maybe, she'd attempt a kiss on the cheek and get to feel his wonderful skin against her lips for the first time since she was ten. But this time, unlike when she was younger, he wouldn't mind the kiiss. This time, she'd kiss his cheek in a more controlled manner, opposite of the barrage of kisses she used to give him.

She broke herself free of her daydreams and threw away the rest of her pretzel. Suddenly, she felt excited, too much so to eat. She made her way towards the escalator, a newfound determination bubbling in her spirit as she made a mental promise: She'd find the perfect dress. Perfect in her mind, and perfect in his too. As she entered another store, she added another promise: By the end of the night, she may not have won him over, but at the least, she wanted a kiss.

It'd been one day, and already, Veronica was hungry. "Can't I eat just one slushie? Only one?" Veronica held a tight grip on the red slushie in her hand.

"No!" Trixie scoffed , "Think of all the other things in it! You want to get fatter?"

Veronica hesitated, and shook her head. "Didn't think so." Trixie smirked. "This is for your own good. A little week's worth of fasting never did anyone any harm." She smacked the slushie out of the blonde's hands, and it fell to the floor. Beronica stared down at it, and her stomach twisted in hunger.

This isn't fasting. she thought bitterly, It's anorexia. She's turning me into an anorexic. But it's only for a week. She's right, there's no harm in that. So what if I'm hungry. I'm 18. I can tough it out. She argued with herself before following Trixie out of the mall ignoring the complaints of her stomach.

Two days later

Tootie returned to the mall again. Quite a few stores had gotten some new stock, and she wanted to see if she could find anything. She walked into "Dresses for every occasion except for funerals, because they're too sad" and looked through the selection of dresses. Her hand made contact with something soft. Curious, she pulled it off of the rack. Slowly, her expression changed from serious to nearly giddy.

Perfect.

The next day...

Veronica sighed as she sat down in the cafeteria with Trixie. She was so hungry that it was unbelievable. And just her luck, Trixie had brought steak for lunch that day. She stared hungrily at it while Trixie placed delicate bite-sized pieces into her mouth.

She groaned. "Trixie, I give up. I'm hungry. I'm going to buy lunch."

"No!" Trixie grabbed her wrist just as she stood up. "Think of how much smaller your butt will be. Won't that make you happier?"

"No." a flash of annoyance shot through her, "It'll make me hungrier."

"But you've made it through three days!"

"Yeah. So I think I deserve some food." Veronica turned to move, but Trixie tightened her grip on her wrist. She smiled up at her, her eyes narrowed. There was a hint of poison in her voice as she spoke. "I've tolerated you for the last few days, and I didn't do it for nothing--"

"What?" Veronica felt as if she'd been hit in the stomach. "What do you mean you've tolerated me? I thought you were helping me because you're my best friend!" But then, the thought that she'd been pushing into the back of her mind finally came into the light: Trixie wasn't doing it for her because they were friends...because they weren't friends. And she hadn't been helping. "But you haven't even been helping me! You've been hurting me!"

"Hurting?" Trixie stood up indignantly, "Fasting is perfectly normal!"

"Yeah, you're right. Fasting is perfectly normal. But that wasn't fasting that you had me doing, Trixie."

"Then what the hell do you think it--"

"It was ANOREXIA, Trixie!" Veronica shouted angrily. Everyone in the cafeteria stopped talking almost instantly. Hundreds of pairs of eyes immediately shifted in their direction and stared. Veronica didn't care. Right now, she was angry. "Yeah, that's right, Trix. I yelled at you. And you know what? I don't care."

Trixie scowled and crossed her arms. Veronica scowled back. Something was happening to her. All of the emotions that she had ignored for so long were tumbling forward like water from a broken dam. Trixie wasn't her friend. She couldn't even remember her name half the time. She was self centered, spoiled, arrogant, and snobby. If Veronica died tomorrow, she had a feeling Trixie wouldn't even notice. She felt all the insults that had been hurled, all the forgotten birthdays, and one way favors backing up. It was as if someone had shaken a soda bottle. All of her emotions were welling up in her mouth. So she opened it.

"You know what? All you care about it yourself! We're supposed to be best friends. But so far, I've been the only one putting everything into this friendship. You don't even care."

"Of course I care!" Trixie quickly said, "I care about you. That's why I tried to help you. But fine. If you want to get food, then go ahead. It's not like getting a smaller butt will help you win prom queen. It's not like you had a shot with that, anyway."

"This isn't about prom queen, Trixie! It's about you! You're the one who's been causing all the problems! And you've been making me feel like it's my fault! You walk all over me, and you get all the fame for it! And you sleep around with all the guys, and make it seem like I was the wild one when I've never done everything!"

"Hey, it's not my fault that you're easy--" Trixie smirked.

That was it. Veronica was done hearing the one who she thought was her best friend insult her. And she certainly wasn't going to let her lie to her face. She'd had enough.

What happened in the next instant made them realize that Francis, the former bully, was a minor threat compared to Veronica. She lunged for the girl, and slammed her into the wall. Trixie instantly started fighting back, and they toppled to the floor. Veronica straddled her and pulled at her hair before raising her hand to slap her in the face. But then she stopped herself. What was she doing? She couldn't just slap her. She balled her hand. Punching was much more effective. The two of them were now fighting as violently as they came. They were both bleeding in a matter of a minute. Trixie landed a fist to her stomach, and Veronica returned the favor by punching her in the nose. They both continued brawling until finally, one of the lunch ladies pulled Veronica off of Trixie. When she was on her feet, Chad leapt up and held out his arm, to prevent her from trying to hit Trixie again. But he didn't have to worry about that.

She stared down at Trixie. The school's most beautiful girl was sitting up on the floor. She had a cut on her lip, her nose was dripping blood, and the area around her left eye was the palest of blues. Her arms had a few cuts where Veronica had scratched her, and her shirt was ripped. She knew that she erself looked no better. Her lip was bleeding, and judging by the tenderness of her cheek, she probably had a big cut. But she didn't care. It was over.

"You know what? You can be prom queen. I quit." She balled her fists and turned on her heels to go to the nurse. She was done pushing away her common sense for popularity's sake.

"But wait!" Chad called after her. Obviously, he didn't know how to address her. He probably thinks that if he calls me Veronica, I'll flip out. she thought bitterly. But she'd taken a year of therapy to get over the identity crisis when she was eleven. But Chad didn't know that. A feeling of shame nearly knocked her to the ground as she remembered how desperately whe wanted to be the evil b-tch in front of her. And another feeling of shame swept through her as she realized how gullible she was, that this whole thing was her fault. She pretended that they were her friends. But she knew they weren't. She pretended that they cared about her. But she knew they didn't. And she pretended that they knew her as a person. But she knew they didn't. Chad didn't know her. Trixie didn't know her. Only Tad knew her. But he was gone. None of them knew her.

Finally, Chad called out tentatively, "Wait, Trixie."

And to everyone's shock, a year of therapy went down the drain as she said old words in a new context. She turned around to face him, her face 20 shades of pink and red as a wave of fury that nobody could ever imagine ran through her. Shaking with anger, she screamed "Don't call me that! I'm Veronica! VERONICA!!! DON'T YOU EVER CALL ME TRIXIE AGAIN! I'M NOT TRIXIE! I -- AM-- VERONICA! MY NAME IS AND WILL ALWAYS BE VERONICA!!!!!"