Disclaimer: Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

A/N: Whenever I'm working on a longer story, short story ideas inevitably pop into my head. This story is written in a different style, told from Brooke's POV, and fills in some scenes I left out of All the King's Men. But this is still mostly about Rosie and Carter as you shall see. If you are wondering what happened to All the King's Men, I promise you I am still working on it. Meanwhile, please comment on this and encourage me as I sort out my writer's block.

Chapter 3

I wasn't the only one thinking about what Rosie had done by nominating Carter.

Chelsea fumed about all the attention it had caused. As much as Chelsea tried to pass it off as a hilarious joke, I could tell that underneath it all, she was suddenly worried.

The buzz around school was about how cool it was for Carter's cousin to do something so bold, especially with Chelsea as an opponent.

Not many people dared go up against Chelsea. It had been that way since the very beginning.

Well, the beginning of third grade. That's when the Barnes family moved to town and their daughter entered our lives.

Back then, I still talked to Carter. She sat behind me. Our gym teacher Miss Taylor always made us sit in quads arranged by first name alphabetically. Bull was in our class too, but Bull isn't really his name (his real name started with an F) and Miss Taylor went strictly by what was written on the chart.

Since he was a super athlete, Miss Taylor often called Donny up the front of class to demonstrate.

Naturally, Carter followed Brooke. Donny was in our quad too, sitting behind Carter. He'd make faces when the teacher wasn't looking or clown around with Bull who sat in the next quad over. Since he was a super athlete, Miss Taylor often called Donny up to the front of class to demonstrate whatever we might be learning that day.

Carter and I often fell into conversations when Miss Taylor wasn't making us run laps or play dodge ball.

But Chelsea put a stop to our conversations. When she joined our class, Donny got bumped from our quad (much to Carter's dismay) and I got to know Chelsea better.

We became partners during for one of Miss Taylor's endless practice exercises and Chelsea asked me, "Why do you talk with her?"

"Who?" I frowned until I realized Chelsea was nodding in a particular direction. "You mean Carter? Why wouldn't I talk with her?"

"Have you seen what she wears?"

"Clothes," I replied, clueless.

"I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that, would you?"

"Oh," I said with realization. "Uh, yeah," I gulped. "Uh, me neither." I had always prided myself on my ability to get along with people, it was one of the reasons I was so well-liked in school. And I quickly learned that Chelsea liked it when people agreed with her. And she had a subtle way of making her opinion sound like it was the right one. Although Chelsea was the new girl a lot of people seemed to like her. Her first day of school, she had handed out coupons for free frozen yogurt.

When Chelsea spoke, other students paid attention. Whether they agreed with what she had to say or not.

And I wasn't an exception.

"Where is she from?"

"Carter lives by the lake."

Chelsea's eyebrows flew upwards. "Her family is rich enough to own lakefront property?"

I shrugged. "Most everybody in Lake Monroe lives on the lake. But her dad runs a shop."

Chelsea's curiosity only grew. "What kind of shop?"

"Um." The dark piercing gaze of interrogation made me nervous. "It's for catching fish. Like worms and stuff."

Chelsea gave me an approving nod at this bit of information and her lips curled into a weird grin. "Bait. I see. So we won't talk with that loser. We don't want her bad fashion sense to rub off on us. We have standards. You, on the other hand, have wonderful taste. Love the hair." For a fleeting moment, I considered her words. I liked talking with Carter. But I also didn't wish to upset Chelsea.

Chelsea made it sound as if we were a part of an important club and I liked that feeling. But if I disagreed with her about Carter, would that make me a loser too?

Basically she gave me a choice. Be popular or be friends with Carter. I chose to be popular. So what? Sue me.

"Yeah, standards," I echoed while sweeping one hand through my hair. It had always been my particular pride. Chelsea grinned at me and changed the subject as if we had just been discussing the weather and not ousting someone from our juvenile social circle.

I didn't talk with Carter for the rest of class. Carter cast a questioning glance in my direction several times, because we usually chatted so much, but I ignored any remarks Carter made and her puzzlement grew.

The bell rang and Carter caught up with me before I could leave. "Hey, Brooke, you're pretty quiet. Is something wrong?"

I felt Chelsea's eyes on me as my lips settled into a thin line. I replied loudly, so everybody else nearby could hear. "Yes. You."

Several boys guffawed loudly at my words and Carter's face crumpled into a look of hurt and confusion. She took a small step backward like I had pushed her.

Chelsea stepped up beside me, her hand formed an L-shape, and she mouthed the corresponding word in Carter's direction.

I joined in as Chelsea laughed mercilessly.

Carter's eyes darkened before she turned around and ran out the door. Over the next few days that look haunted me, but I pushed it away. My popularity had begun to rocket and the demands of friendship with Chelsea kept me too busy to think about what I had done.

I had reached the point of no return.

But today I found myself musing over the ancient past as I watched Rosie and Carter walk through the doors of Lake Monroe's teen hangout spot.

Just like in the cafeteria, guys were almost tripping over themselves to get Rosie's attention. Ed even laced up Rosie's bowling shoes. As popular as Chelsea and I were, nobody ever did anything like that for us. I pointed this out to Chelsea and she stuck out her unlaced shoe in front of two freshmen who were wandering by. "They do now," Chelsea said and I copied her actions.

The two boys only gave us odd looks.

"Your shoe's untied."

"Don't trip."

And they kept on walking.

Epic fail.

But that wasn't the end of it.

Rosie bowled like a pro, blowing the rest of us away until everyone in the alley was ignoring their own games to watch Rosie and applaud her next strike.

Even Chelsea had to admit it, Rosie definitely was no loser. "She could become princess. She could win it all!"

"She is getting really popular," I agreed.

Watching the reaction of Rosie's captivated audience, Chelsea became frantic. "The vote's on Monday. We can't let her get more popular than we are! There's only one thing to do in a situation like this."

Chelsea dashed across the alley, pushing her way through the crowd, until she had reached Rosie. "Ro! You are such a natural," Chelsea cooed. "Will you show us how to bowl like that?"

Rosie gave Chelsea a big smile at the compliment and stepped from her bowling lane. "Of course! But my name is Rosie."

Once Chelsea sets her mind on something, it is very hard to change it. "Ro is our nickname for you."

There's a saying that goes, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. The smile on Rosie's face made me wish that I could believe Chelsea's words. Because having Rosie as a friend would be pretty cool. "We give all our friends nicknames," I added as I walked up, putting Rosie in between Chelsea and I as we continued forward. If Rosie was going to be hanging out with us, the sooner she learned Chelsea's rules the better. I pointed to Chelsea. "She's Chels."

Chelsea pointed back at me. "And she's Brookie. And you're Ro. You're one of us now."