So I made this chapter a little longer then I would have liked because I'm going to be out of town for ten days starting next Tuesday, and I won't be able to update (or actually write the next chapter) during that time. I hope you guys don't mind. :)

And now, I apologize in advance, not just for not being able to update for about two weeks, but for…well, you'll find out. I have a feeling that I might not be getting some good reviews after this chapter… :::::barricades door:::::

Enjoy! (Hopefully)

Whatever preparation they might have had of simply knowing that more families were joining their town, nothing could have prepared them for the dreadful damage their high school had gone through because of a population rise.

"Oh, my God," Leslie said.

Jess agreed with her silently. They were both standing in front of Lark Creek High, looking at the entrance in horror.

Groups of people who looked like gang members were moving around the courtyard and shoving people out of their way; there were several people fighting each other on the ground all around the campus. Some of the freshmen were getting books knocked out of their hands. Girls who looked as though they had never heard of a dress code were talking loudly, manicured hands holding cell phones to their ears, and some of them were yelling cuss words at each other across other people's heads. There were couples making out in front of their friends, against the walls, on the ground, everywhere; there were even two girls kissing. Some people were on their own while others were crowded together with their friends; near the gates on the right side of the school a group of guys stood smoking cigarettes; a couple of students who looked either drunk or stoned were wandering around talking to themselves. And there were way, way more students then there had been last year.

"I'm going home," Jess said, actually reaching for the truck keys, but Leslie grabbed his wrist.

"We can't skip school."

"We can't survive school," Jess said incredulously. "There is no way I am—"

"Hey, sweetheart, I need some sugar," slurred someone whose breath reeked of alcohol, who had come up from behind them. "Can you give me some, pretty?" he said before either of them could react, putting his hands on Leslie's waist.

Jess seized him by the shoulders and Leslie gave a cry of surprise, smacking his hands hard. "Get away from me," she snapped and Jess shoved him toward the school.

"Ass," he shouted after the drunken guy as he shuffled away, chattering to himself about honey. "See, Leslie? That guy has 'rapist' written all over him! And there will be more where he came from!"

"It was just one guy," Leslie said, though her eyes were wide with alarm. "Besides…you wouldn't have to worry about him."

"You would."

"Well, I'm not." But Leslie still looked shaken. "We're going to go down there. And we're not turning back."

Jess snorted. "You're crazy."

"That's what everyone says, right?" Leslie said cheerfully. "Come on, Jess. We're not going into war."

"Sure freaking feels like it."

"Jess!" Now Leslie was looking at him somewhat desperately. "We can do this. Nothing crushes us."

Jess grinned halfheartedly. They stood there for a moment longer while people—some looking terrified—hurried past them into the courtyard. Then Jess let out a sigh.

"Well, you're right," he said eventually. "Ready?"

Leslie nodded. "Yeah."

"If I don't survive, tell the Terabithians that they have been good subjects."

"Will do, your royal chicken-ness," muttered Leslie, rolling her eyes. Jess smiled a real smile now and put a grateful hand on her shoulder.

"Okay," he said. "Ready?"

"Yes, Jess."

"Here we go, then," he said, and they both took a deep breath, then they walked into the courtyard.

It was a nightmare. Jess was lost in a blur of noise and motion and when he finally made it to the inside of the school, he was sure decades had passed from the time he had first been sucked into the mess to the time he had been spat out of it. People were pushing behind him, slowing down in front of him, closing in on both sides, separating him from Leslie and leaving him completely on his own. He got shoved down once and out of instinct he picked himself back up as quickly as he fell. He could smell beer, cigarette smoke, other people's sweat; he felt as though he was being smothered.

In the hall the instant he saw Leslie again he seized her wrist and held on, refusing to lose her again, as they fought like warriors to get under cover.

"Holy crap," were his first words when they had found air to breathe in the hallways. Leslie grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the administration office. Times like these were the times Jess could never be grateful enough that she had always been stronger.

"Let's get our schedules," she said. She looked as though she had been struck by something very heavy. She could have been; anything could have happened in the stampede. "Maybe we can request getting all our classes together."

"Yeah, okay," gasped Jess as they hurried through the halls. "Maybe we can get body guards, too."

They did end up having two classes together; gym, right before lunch, and English, the last period of the day. Before they knew it, the first bell was ringing, and the halls were transforming into the turmoil that reminded Jess of the mass evacuations he saw on TV, where cities had to fight each other tooth and nail to get out of town before hurricanes hit, only in this scenario everyone was squashed together in a smaller environment.

"Good luck," he heard Leslie say then she was gone, swept away from him by the crowd, and Jess was suddenly lost in all of it, one tough looking face replaced by one layered in makeup, one baggy shirt replaced by an extremely tight one. He tried looked ahead but blonde hair, brown hair, black hair, red hair, even bright pink hair blocked his way; the Florissant lights above him seemed unreal, everything was ridiculously confusing. Then somehow Jess was able to get his arms in front of him long enough to read his homeroom class off his schedule, then he fought the other students brutally to get out of the first building and into the one that held his class.

The second bell was ringing as he and several others ran into the classroom. His teacher, a stern-looking woman wearing way too much lipstick, glared at them from the front of the room. Those who had gotten there on time broke up their conversations, primly turned their heads, and stared at them, as though required by law to gaze unblinkingly at those who dared cross the threshold five seconds late.

"Well, those of you who are tardy, it is the first day back, so I will let this slide," said the woman in the front. "But from now on, I would prefer it if you all tried to be on time."

Jess slid into an empty seat and silently prayed that Leslie had made it safely to her first class.

He sunk into a stupor as his teacher preached on and on about how sophomore year was a big year, and she would need them to pay extra attention in their classes, and blah, blah, blah, and she needed everyone to bring in the blah she was passing out now, and blah, blah, blah, and if someone walked in that smelled like blah, blah, she would not be very blah, and blah, blah, blah….

Jess eagerly jumped out of his seat when the bell shook him out of his coma-like state. He shoved the forms his teacher had given him into his backpack, took out his schedule again, and braced himself before going into the halls again.

"This is ridiculous," he heard someone mutter behind him. "There weren't as many people as there was last year…."

By the time he got to third period, Jess had received enough homework and paperwork that if he chose to put each assignment and form side by side the paper probably could have stretched out for miles. Last year when the school was somewhat under control this would have worried him, but now Jess wasn't anxious about homework. Instead he concerned himself with seeking out the person who could be the biggest threat to him on school campus. As he got out of his second class he found that biggest threat, or rather, threats: four or five guys who were strutting down the middle of the hall, and judging by the other people that were skirting around them, they had been doing damage to new students that day. The guys were all dressed in black, and their leader had a lip ring, and Jess felt it wholly necessary to listen to his instinct that told him to stay away. By the time he got to the gym, he felt like an old pro avoiding them while at the same time he escaped the hallway mobs.

By third period he had also been sought out and flirted with by at least three of the girls who hadn't glanced at him twice last year, and by another five who were new to the school. And every single one of them had been in full makeup and despicable clothes; in fact, most of the girls he had seen in the halls and in his classes were like that. So it was a glorious relief when he walked inside the gym and saw Leslie, his Leslie, the one girl he knew who would never try to be like anyone else, waving him over to where she was sitting in the bleachers. Happily he climbed his way up the stands, collapsing next to her and throwing his backpack down on the bench below him.

"You're alive," Leslie told him, smiling.

"I am," Jess answered. Just being close to her in the midst of the battlefield they called school warmed him through with comfort. "I see you haven't been abducted."

"I know you're disappointed."

Jess let out a chuckle, which turned almost instantly into a groan as a girl—Rachel—from his second period science class, waved and blew a kiss at him, her friends giggling next to her. "So tell me, how many people have looked you up and down today?"

"Aw, has the king found suitors?" Leslie asked sweetly and Jess snorted. "Do the lovely maidens beseech your hand?"

"Lovely?" Jess said, disgusted. "Every one of those girls down there is far from being lovely."

Leslie laughed at him. "So you judge on looks, huh?"

"I do not."

"Then what's the matter with Rachel, Jess?"

"What's the matter with her?" Jess said in horror.

"Come on, Jess, I was kidding."

"She's cruel," Jess went on. "She talks about everyone behind their backs. Even her friends. I heard her spreading a rumor to practically my whole Spanish class about that brunette she's sitting with…that one, right there? She was saying that her friend slept with like six guys over the summer and one of them was Rachel's boyfriend."

Leslie's smile faded. "Point made."

"You know what, though? I bet that rumor is true. Her friend looks like a prostitute."

"God, Jess," Leslie said, looking at him with amused eyes. "Did you have a rough morning or something?"

Jess laughed. It felt good to laugh at that moment. "Or something."

"Seriously? Come on, how many girls have come up to you?"

"About eight," he shrugged. Leslie chortled. "Well, okay then, how about you?"

"Well, if girls started coming up to me I'd be a little freaked out," Leslie told him, smiling, and Jess rolled his eyes.

"You know what I meant. How many guys have come up to you?"

"I lost count after thirteen," Leslie said easily. Jess looked at her incredulously.

"Don't say it," she said as he opened his mouth. "It's crazy, I know."

"You win," Jess said. "Hey, we should start a contest. Whoever gets hit on or stared at the most by the end of every day wins."

Leslie burst into laughter. "Wins what?" she asked, as the P.E. coach started walking across the gym floor to them.

"Erm…whoever wins gets to drive home that day?" Jess suggested. Then he smiled. "And the loser of the week washes PT."

"That's not too much to do."

"In the bathtub. All by themselves."

Leslie hesitated. Washing PT in a bathtub was torture. Whenever they did wash PT in the bathtub, one of them would usually have to get in the water with the dog and hold him down while the other worked around the arms and hands of the person in the bathtub, scrubbing grime off PT's coat. By the end of the process both of them were equally soaked, despite who had actually been holding onto PT.

"Sounds like that would be hard to do."

"If you don't want to do it, it's okay. I know how much you hate contests and dares and stuff like that."

That got her. Leslie turned to him with her eyes sparkling. She lived for challenges. "Well you better start kissing up to those girls," she told him, nodding to Rachel and her friends. "'Cause I'm winning."

"Done."

"And I have no intension of getting two baths on Saturday."

"You're on."

"Okay, class, listen up!" screamed the coach from the front. His voice was like a shotgun going off in a riot; all it seemed to do was excite people even more. Finally after attempting to get everyone to quiet down for about a minute, he tugged at his throat and pulled out a whistle from under his shirt. He gave two short blasts on it; the whistle pierced the air and everyone abruptly shut up.

"That's better," the coach grunted, putting the whistle back under his shirt. "Now, today is the first day of school, and—"

"No, really?" someone's voice rang out, and everyone laughed. Jess expected the coach to yell again, but instead he chuckled along with the group.

"Sorry, I forgot you lot aren't kindergarteners," he said. "What are you, tenth grade?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good. Then I'll treat you like sophomores," the coach said earnestly. He made a big deal about switching his smile to a stern frown, then said, "Now, I want everyone here to call me Coach. None of that 'Mister' crap, okay?"

Everyone, including Jess, was starting to think that this teacher wouldn't be so bad, and they were actually being quiet. Coach nodded appreciatively and said, "Good. Now I can actually hear myself talk. So, anyway. Welcome to gym class. I'm sure everyone is very excited to be here, and I'm sure you're all dying to go to the locker rooms and change into sweaty old gym clothes—" There was a ripple of amused chortles as well as some disgusted murmurs, "—but unfortunately we won't start changing out until next week. But you all are going to be here on time every day, understood? By this time in a couple of weeks you'll all be waiting at your numbers fully dressed when I come out."

"Do we have to shower?" asked an overweight girl in a baggy shirt and pigtails. The group of girls up front who had giggled at Jess giggled again now, this time at her. Beside him, Leslie made a little cluck of her tongue in sympathy.

"You don't have to," Coach said kindly. "But it is recommended. And we're going to be doing some fun sports!" he said with fresh enthusiasm, addressing the whole group now. "You'll all be sweaty and gasping for breath every day when you all arrive back in the locker rooms. Now, before the pig at the front desk calls me up—" Everyone laughed; they hated the evil secretary, "—let me do attendance. Let's see…" He got out his clipboard. "Who's the lucky guy who will be first…? Jess Aarons! Where are you?"

"Here," Jess said, raising a hand. Coach pointed the pencil at him and announced, "Congratulations! First of third period."

"I," Jess said seriously, "am very honored." The girls in front giggled again, batting their eyelashes in his direction. Jess looked to Leslie for approval; she chuckled quietly, whether at him or the girls, Jess couldn't tell. Coach beamed at him and went back to his checklist.

"Kert Adamson?"

"Yo."

"Daniel Bertford?"

"Dan."

"Leslie Burke?"

"Present," Leslie said brightly. At her voice, Coach raised his eyes from his clipboard.

"First girl of third period! What a coincidence, right next to each other….Lizzy Combs?"

"Let's see, Mr. First," Leslie whispered to Jess as Coach moved on. "One, two, three, four, five, six—"

"Okay, so you might be driving home today," Jess muttered back. At least half of the class, mostly guys, was staring at her, some gazing openly, most trying hard to tear their eyes off her then looking back every few seconds. He noticed that the girls in the front bleachers were giving her death looks. "But those girls down there don't count for you."

"What, them?" Leslie smiled cheerfully and gave a little wave to Rachel, her prostitute friend, and the other girls surrounding them; their eyes narrowed down to slits and they huffily looked away, whispering ferociously. "I think I'm still winning."

"Yeah, right," Jess said, grinning, but he didn't kid himself. Even Coach was casting admiring glances toward Leslie.

After third period came lunch. Once they were out in the inner courtyard Jess automatically headed over toward the cafeteria, but Leslie held him back.

"Are you crazy?" she asked him. "We'd get killed in there."

Jess thought about the uproar in the hallways, thought about it being packed into a single room, then shuddered. "Good point."

"You brought a lunch, right?"

"Yeah."

Leslie looked intensely relieved. "Let's stay away from the lunchroom until we're used to all this."

"Sounds good," Jess said. They walked a little bit away from the gym then collapsed on a bench where there was no one around. They threw their backpacks at their feet and took out their food.

"This day," said Jess as he unwrapped a sandwich, "has officially sucked."

"It could have been worse," Leslie told him consolingly.

"How?"

"Lots of ways," Leslie said. She bit into an apple. "We could have been trampled. Someone could have shot at us. We could have teachers who belt us. Those guys walking around here all dressed in black could have beaten us up."

"You noticed them, too?" Jess asked, taking a sip of water.

"Who didn't notice them? That one guy had a lip ring."

"I know."

Jess saw five or six more people with lip rings by the time he arrived at seventh period. He was mentally and physically worn out from all the taunts he had received from old classmates and from all the girls who tried to talk to him, and again his only relief was that Leslie was with him; he got to the classroom first and saved a seat; when she did show up a minute or two before the bell Leslie looked as exhausted as he felt.

"Last period," she said, smiling wearily as she sat down next to him. Students were filing in the room, talking loudly. "And then today's over."

"Yeah. And only a hundred seventy-nine days left." He saw two of Rachel's friends wave at him and call out, "Hi, Jess," across the room. He nodded to show that he had heard them then turned back to Leslie.

"There's two more," he told her, smiling. "Am I still losing now?"

Leslie opened her mouth to respond, then she shut it abruptly. Jess frowned.

"What?" he asked, and she nodded to the door. Jess looked over. One of the guys dressed in black that he had been avoiding in the hallways had just walked into the classroom. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and a dark expression on his face, as though the world's mission was to make his life miserable.

"Oh, great, we've got part of the hardcore in our class," Jess snorted, turning back to Leslie. For some reason she had gone quiet.

"Er…Leslie?"

"That's Trent," she said softly. She scooted her chair back a little bit so that she was directly behind Jess. "He's in my math class. He…" Her voice faded, then she quickly brought it back. "Look at his eyes. He wouldn't stop staring at me. The whole period."

Jess looked at him again. Trent kicked aside a chair farthest from the teacher's desk, stumbled into it, then slammed his bag on the floor. He looked around the room in irritation. He saw Leslie.

"Doesn't talk much, does he?" muttered Jess as Trent fixed his eyes solely on her. His eyes were piercing, and even though Trent was staring past him Jess felt a shiver go down his spine. He scooted his chair back and glared at him. Trent blinked, then rapidly looked away.

"Okay, then. Is everyone here? This is sophomore English, seventh period. Everyone's in the right class now, right? Okay, so my name is Mr. Bell—"

"He acts like I'm not even here," Jess said angrily as Trent looked back toward them again. Jess turned to Leslie. "I bet he…Leslie?"

Leslie's eyes were wide. She kept glancing from Trent to the teacher and back, not rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, but looking, to Jess's astonishment, fearful.

"Leslie?" asked Jess quietly.

"I'm fine," Leslie told him. She attempted to smile as though it was nothing, and she quickly looked away from Trent and at Jess. "So, I…I guess this means I'm driving the truck home today, right?"

OOO

Leslie drove the truck home that day.

By the time they got out of the parking lot, twenty minutes had passed from when the last bell rang and to when the crossing guard at the front waved them through the intersection. Jess and Leslie were silent as Leslie steered the truck around other cars, not staying close to the speed limit as Jess usually did, but flying over it. But she steered so carefully and braked so easily her speed didn't seem to matter.

Finally when they were about halfway home, Jess burst out angrily.

"Doesn't that bother you?" he asked. "He wouldn't stop staring. At all!"

"Really, Jess? I didn't know."

"He had no respect, no…I don't know, what he didn't have… God! He could have at least said something! Like, 'Hi, Leslie, I'm Trent. I've been gawking at you this whole day and I was wondering if you wanted to do—'"

Leslie cast glaring eyes at him, taking her eyes off the road completely, and Jess cowered down.

"…'do…uh…do…lunch.'"

Leslie looked back onto the road and turned on the blinker. "I can't imagine he'd be happy if I said no."

"I can't imagine he'd be happy if you said yes," muttered Jess. "He looks like he's never had a good day in his life."

"Just stop, Jess," Leslie said with a reassuring smile as she turned onto the dirt road. "Don't freak out; he'll…hey, the bulldozer's gone!"

It was. Jess was so used to it being there that its absence seemed odd. Nevertheless, it was good that everything was back to normal. He grinned.

"They must have taken it downtown."

"Phew," Leslie said, smiling for real now.

They pulled into Jess's driveway and Leslie parked the truck next to the house. Jess could hear Brenda yelling inside. She and Ellie commuted from their community college, and always found something to complain about by the time they got home.

"Let's go to Terabithia," Jess said suddenly and was happy to see Leslie nod eagerly. He wasn't in the mood to hear Brenda and Ellie whining.

They got out of the truck and, leaving their backpacks in the backseat, started running down the dirt road toward the forest. Today they needed Terabithia more then ever.

"Well, King Jess, we have survived our first day back," Leslie said as they entered the woods. "We can make it this year. It can't be too hard."

"Yeah, right," Jess said to her. But being away from school and about to enter their kingdom, Jess felt like he could believe her. Maybe they could survive the wild jungle their high school had transformed into.

"Like I said, it could have been worse," Leslie said.

Jess turned around and walked backwards so he could face her. "Like how?" he asked. "Oh, I know! Maybe you could have been stared at all seventh period—"

"Jess—"

"And speaking of class periods, every single teacher of ours couldn't have given us homework we could stack a foot high—"

"Jess," Leslie sighed. "We'll get through our homework, like we always do. Okay? And Trent's just some…some…"

"Freak," spat Jess, nearly tripping over a log. They were almost at the creek.

"No, he's…listen, he'll stop; I know he will."

"Are you sure?"

"Honestly, Jess. You'd think that—"

Suddenly she stopped talking. She stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes got wide.

"What?" Jess said, halting. She didn't answer. She was looking over Jess's shoulder with horror in her eyes. Jess turned around, and what he saw made his stomach turn over.

Their bridge was destroyed. The faithful, wondrous bridge that had served as their entrance to Terabithia for six years was completely destroyed. The tree that made the foundation was uprooted and down in the creek, parallel to the bank, and splinters of wood were scattered at the bottom of the water, gathered by rocks. Around the land where they walked onto the bridge, the bits of trees and lumber Jess had so carefully wielded together were broken apart. And the worst of all was that their sign "Nothing Crushes Us" was ripped in two, buried halfway in the mud and a stain of what looked like red spray paint down one of the pieces.

For minutes, hours, even days might have passed and Jess wouldn't have known, they stayed silent.

"Oh, my God," Leslie gasped finally, her voice high. Her chest was heaving, as though the ghastly sight was enough to stop her lungs from working properly. "Oh. My. God."

Jess himself was feeling rather dizzy. He stared at the remains of his bridge in astonishment, his mind spinning.

"Who could have done this?" Leslie said in a whisper after what seemed like a century had passed. She walked slowly toward the ruins, as though they were wild animals that could grab her at any second. "Who could have possibly…?"

Jess followed her. He picked up the pieces of the sign he had painted six years ago, heart thumping. "It's the Dark Master," he said, trying to make sense of it all. "I bet he—"

"No," Leslie whispered. They were both talking very softly. "It's something much, much worse then that."

"Like what?" Jess said in amazement.

"Like…like..." Leslie fell silent, obviously looking for a better description. Suddenly she gasped. "Like that!"

Jess turned to see where she was pointing, across the creek and slightly shadowed within the forest. For the first time in a long time he could see what Leslie was seeing without her having to point it out to him first.

It was the bulldozer.

Leslie charged downwards toward the creek; Jess threw down the sign and sprinted after her.

"Leslie!" he said loudly. "Be careful!"

"We can't get across," Leslie said helplessly. She was right. There was no way to get from one side of the creek to the other without swimming.

"Maybe the water's calmer downstream," Jess said, and he actually turned toward the direction where the water was going. But Leslie shook her head.

"We're going to have to swim anyway," she told him. Her voice was fearful. "Might as well go in here."

The water was almost as high as their heads, and it was freezing cold and in the early September chill, it numbed Jess over within seconds. They hurriedly tore through the plants on the other side and sprinted, dripping, toward the bulldozer. Jess put his hand on it. It was the same bulldozer that had been on the dirt road for the last two months.

"No," Leslie whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, Jess…you told me that they were tearing down forests back there." She pointed behind her, apparently not caring that she wasn't being specific.

"They were," Jess said in a hoarse tone. "For homes, for some real estate company, but, but…."

Suddenly his heart skipped several beats.

"They didn't say where they were making the clothing store," he finished quietly.

They were quiet. Leslie kept her eyes on the bulldozer, looking horror-struck.

"It might not be, you, know, around our tree house, or anything," said Jess, whose teeth were starting to chatter. He knew he was giving himself and Leslie false hope. "It could be—"

"The stronghold!" cried Leslie and suddenly she bolted, running into the forest as fast as her legs could carry her. Jess sprinted after her, both of them dripping water on the trees and their breath coming out of their mouths like steam.

Their tree house was still standing. But the trees around it were spray painted an ugly, hideous red color. There were blue markings all over the ground and the tree that the Squogres always leapt at them from, plus a couple of others, had orange tape around it. Wooden planks were sticking up out of the ground.

Leslie sat down on the earth. She was trembling and there were tears in her eyes.

"No," she whispered again. "No…no…they can't…."

Jess sat down next to her. He was shivering, too, though not as much from the cold…his heart was hammering and his mind seemed to be malfunctioning with fight. He tried to think of any other reason as to why the bulldozer would have crushed their bridge and spray painted the land that was Terabithia.

There is no other reason, the little voice inside of his mind said.

Jess sighed heavily. For some reason all he could think of was that there was one way to get rid of some of the awful feelings inside him.

"Leslie?" he said, turning his head so he was looking at her.

"Yeah?" Even her voice was shaky.

"I'm sorry I freaked out about Trent."

Leslie turned her head, too, blue-green eyes still full of a kind of horrified sadness. Suddenly they filled with tears. "I know," she said quietly. Jess softly brushed some of her wet hair away from her face, and she reached up and put her hand on Jess's. An understanding.

She didn't say anything. She didn't have to.

They sat there in silence, gazing at the tape and the paint and the wooden planks driven into the earth like stakes driven into a beating heart. Leslie laid her head on his shoulder and Jess absentmindedly traced her fingers with his, wondering whether or not their day could possibly get any worse.

So again, I am sorry for this chapter. I really am. But it must be written.

The high school "problems" that Jess and Leslie must undergo are not just made up, they are based on one of my old high school's experiences that I had for half of my freshman year, and the ordeals that the two will continue to go through—particularly Leslie—are mostly experiences that have happened to me. So I would really not rather hear any "High schools aren't really like that!" in your reviews, if you could be so kind. :D But as for any other irritations you might have, feel free to go on and on in your reviews as long as you'd like. (Just no flames, please!)

Speaking of going on and on, I will stop doing so now. Thank you very much again for reading this far and for taking the time to review (And also, all you anonymous reviewers to whom I can't respond to: stormyseas, Abby, Ali, and Sunburst, thank you, too! I appreciate you guys a lot. And stormyseas, don't be sorry for nitpicking! I'm glad you pointed out the "then" and "than" mistakes for me!). Hopefully I will see everyone again next chapter!

Okay. :::::Takes deep breath::::: Bring on the reviews!