Sorry these updates have been relatively irregular; I've been busy. I'll try to get the next one up faster. And I know this one relies heavily on dialogue, but I hope it's okay. Enjoy!

Abbie's mother picked her up from school that day. Abbie took a deep breath and remembered the resolution she'd made earlier – to make an effort. She climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over to give her mother a kiss. "Hey, Mom. How was work?"

Her mother looked absolutely shocked. "It was good," she stammered, then glanced at Abbie. "Is something wrong?"

Abbie shrugged. "No. I just wanted to tell you I love you. I don't tell you enough."

"Right . . ." Mrs. Carmichael was still staring at Abbie as if she'd gone crazy. "Are you okay?"

Abbie nodded, buckling her seatbelt. "Yeah."

Her mother smiled and reached out to run a hand through Abbie's long, dark hair. "How was school, honey?"

"Good." Then she remembered what Dr. McKenna had said about responsiveness. "Um, we have to write persuasive comparative essays for English. What do you think I should write about?"

Mrs. Carmichael beamed at her daughter, and then Abbie felt bad, because she realized how much this meant to her mother and it was so easy. It actually took less effort to be nice than it took to be mean. "What are your choices?"

Abbie shrugged. "Anything comparative, like which is harder, being a girl or a boy? But I think I want to do something more sophisticated than that. I might as well get extra marks where I can."

Her mother nodded. "Do you want to do some kind of heavy social issue or something slightly more simple?"

"The more complex, the better, I guess."

"You could do something on capital punishment, whether you feel it's appropriate or inappropriate," suggested Mrs. Carmichael, smiling slightly. "We all know you have a strong opinion about that."

Abbie smiled too. "That's a good idea."

Her mother cocked her head and turned to look at Abbie. "You know, sometimes I don't understand you."

"What do you mean?" asked Abbie, although she was pretty sure she understood.

Mrs. Carmichael shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. "I just – you – are you sure you're okay?"

Abbie rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to go home and string myself up in my closet or OD and those stupid sedatives Dr. Picard gave me. Don't worry, Mom."

"Ah, this is the familiar Abbie Carmichael."

Abbie smiled in spite of herself. Then she thought of the advice she'd given Alex earlier, and then the advice Alex had given her. "Mom, I want to tell you something, but I want you to promise me that you won't do anything about it unless I ask you to." Her mother looked a bit uncertain, and Abbie rushed on, "I want to talk to you. I want to trust you, but I need you to promise me that first."

Although she still looked a bit reluctant, Mrs. Carmichael nodded. "You can tell me anything, Abbie."

She knew that wasn't true, but she was going to take a chance anyway. She hoped it wouldn't backfire. Taking a deep breath, she said, "It's Damien."

"What about him?"

Abbie waited a beat, then just said it bluntly. "He followed me here. He's in all of my classes and he won't leave me alone. And now he's become infatuated with Alex and I'm scared he'll hurt her."

Her mother regarded her with concern. "How long has he been here for?"

Abbie forced herself to meet her mother's eyes. "A week."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Abbie sighed. "I thought I could handle it. I still think I can. Alex and I are going to talk to the principal tomorrow about him harassing us. There's a difference between being a rat and protecting yourself, so it's fine. I just wanted to tell you – just in case."

Mrs. Carmichael still looked worried, but she nodded slowly. "Thanks for telling me, Abbie. I could talk to –"

"No, Mom. I can handle it."

Her mother sighed. "All right. But if you get in over your head, you can always come to me."

Abbie nodded. "I know."

The next morning, Abbie met Alex in the foyer before school. "We have a meeting with Mr. De Silva in ten minutes," Alex informed her.

Abbie raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

Alex's deep blue eyes twinkled. "The Cabot name has a lot of pull."

Abbie nodded, accepting this. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Let's go."

They sat down on two of the uncomfortable chairs in the main office and waited. About ten minutes later, Mr. De Silva came out of his office and scanned the area, his eyes finally resting on Alex. He gave her a smile. "You must be Alex." He held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Abbie raised her eyebrows, but Alex seemed to be used to this treatment because she said coolly, "This is my friend Abbie."

He gave Abbie a brief nod, then turned back to Alex. "Come on in."

Alex beckoned for Abbie to follow her, but Abbie knew her presence would be neither useful nor welcomed, and she shook her head. It's okay, she mouthed when she saw the look of confusion on Alex's face.

Alex shrugged almost imperceptibly and followed the principal into his office.

Abbie was actually surprised to find that she wasn't angry, but relieved. She hadn't really wanted to be the one to tell Mr. De Silva about him anyway. She plopped back down on a chair and waited.

One of the secretaries peered at Abbie over her glasses. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Abbie nodded curtly. "Yeah, here."

The secretary raised her eyebrows but didn't comment any further.

Abbie kicked the chair legs for a moment, then stilled her feet when she realized what she was doing. She wasn't going to start this again.

Alex came out about twenty minutes later, a grim smile on her face. "He won't be bothering us anymore," she said calmly.

Abbie followed her toward their first period class. "Do you want to tell me how you managed that?"

Alex shrugged. "Not particularly."

Abbie raised her eyebrows. "Okay then."

They sat down in their seats and surprisingly – or maybe not so surprisingly – he didn't show up throughout class. He didn't show up during second period and they didn't see him at lunch.

Alex rolled her eyes when Abbie commented on this. "Ye of little faith. I told you he wouldn't be bothering us again – ever."

"Suspended?"

Alex couldn't quite suppress her smirk. "Expelled."

"Impressive."

Alex shrugged. "Not really."

"You're not telling me that the Cabot name made that happen too?"

"Well, I might have threatened to go to the school board . . . and the media . . . and the police."

"Right."

"I would have."

"I know." Abbie hesitated. "Thank you, Alex."

Alex smiled. "No problem."

They sat down at their usual table in the cafeteria, where Elliot and Olivia were already waiting, having a heavy-duty makeout session.

Abbie averted her eyes. "Whoa. Get a room or something."

They broke apart, a bit sheepishly, and Olivia ran a hand through her hair. "Hey."

Jack and Trevor appeared a moment later and sat down next to Elliot. "Hey, where's stalker-boy?" asked Trevor.

Alex shot him a dirty look. "Shut up, Trevor."

"Hey!" He looked insulted. "I was just kidding."

"Sometimes I wonder if your IQ is larger than your shoe size," commented Alex, rolling her eyes. "I know your level of social tact isn't."

Even he knew better than to get into a verbal spar with Alex. She could argue circles around him in her sleep, and they all knew better than to try to match her in that area.

"To answer your question, 'stalker-boy' was expelled. He ain't never coming back." She couldn't quite manage to suppress her self-satisfied smirk.

Olivia fell off her chair and narrowly avoided hitting her head on the cafeteria table.

Alex stared at her, holding out her hand to help Olivia up. "What?"

Olivia ignored Alex's outstretched hand and got to her feet. "Who are you and what did you do to the real Alex Cabot?"

"She got made dead." Alex grinned at the look on Olivia's face and adjusted her glasses.

Olivia glanced around the table and said in a stage whisper, "I think I just heard Alex Cabot use a double negative. Am I paracusiating or did that really just happen?"

Alex scrunched up her face. "What on Earth is paracusiating?"

Olivia heaved a theatrical gasp. "Now I know you're not the real Alex Cabot. Do I actually know a word that you don't?"

Alex looked amused. "Okay, o brilliant one. Define it."

"Paracusia. Auditory hallucination."

She looked so proud of herself that Alex laughed. "You can't just add random letters to make it into a verb."

Olivia pouted. "Why not?"

"The rules of English grammar just don't work that way."

Olivia raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. You win." Gingerly, she sat back down on her chair. "Truce."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Sure."

"Anyway," she said, changing the subject. "Do you know which of your thirty-seven ballroom gowns you're going to be wearing to the spring dance?"

Alex looked down her nose at Olivia. "Twelve, to be exact. And to answer your question, none of the above."

"Surprise me," said Abbie dryly. "What are you wearing?"

Alex smirked. "A new dress."

Trevor looked disappointed. "Why don't you wear your red dress? It's sexy."

Alex rolled her eyes and Olivia gave Alex her patented lopsided grin. "Which red dress?"

Alex sighed. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

"You know, if you sent half of your wardrobe to impoverished African children, you could clothe an entire village," commented Olivia. Before Alex could say anything, she turned to Abbie and asked, "What are you wearing?"

Abbie shrugged. "I'm not going."

"How come?"

She tried to pretend she didn't care, but she couldn't quite keep the longing from her voice as she answered, "I don't have anyone to go with."

"Hey, can we join in on this conversation?" cut in Elliot.

"All right. Do you have anything meaningful to contribute to our discussion?" Alex fired back. "Aside from basketball statistics or whatever it is you like to talk about."

He took it personally. "Hey!"

She smirked. "That's what I thought."

"Okay, fine. So how did you manage to get rid of stalker-boy?"

Alex glanced at Abbie, whose face was set. She turned back to Elliot. "We're not going to talk about him."

"Ah, so decisive. What do you want to talk about?"

"You know what? Let's not talk. Let's just sit in silence for a few peaceful moments."

Elliot quirked an eyebrow. "I'll believe it when I see it." He turned to Trevor and held out his hand. "Ten bucks your girlfriend can't keep her mouth shut for ten minutes."

Trevor shook it. "I have faith in her. You're on."

Alex crossed her arms over her chest. "Hey!"

Elliot grinned and winked at Trevor. "You lose. Ten bucks, please."

"Hey, no fair!" protested Trevor. "You hadn't said go yet."

"I don't want to be your lucrative scheme," snapped Alex. "And my silence is worth more than ten dollars."

"Of course," agreed Elliot. "What were we thinking?"

Alex scowled and turned to Jack, who'd been silent throughout this whole verbal joust. "How much do you think my silence is worth?"

Jack shrugged. "Priceless."

"See, that is a good answer," crowed Alex. "Trevor, watch and learn." She grinned at Jack. "If I dump him, will you get with me?"

He thought about it for a moment. "No."

Alex stared at him and Abbie got the distinct impression that no wasn't a word Alex Cabot was used to hearing. "What do you mean, no?"

He smiled good-naturedly. "I don't date blondes."

Alex smirked. "I defy every blonde stereotype in existence, so I think we're good."

"It isn't particularly attractive to hit on a boy when you're already in a relationship," said Jack mildly.

Alex raised her eyebrows, but didn't say a word.

"Hey, Alex, I think you've met your match!" teased Olivia. "Are you speechless?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I'm just not even going to dignify that with a response. Have you ever seen me speechless before?"

"I have," cut in Abbie.

Alex shot her an icy glare. "That doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"Extenuating circumstances."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Stop it with the legal-speak."

"The actual word is legalese," Alex corrected her.

Olivia tsk-tsked. "Sometimes you are nothing short of obnoxious."

"I think incorrigible is the word you're looking for."

Olivia shrugged. "That too. Who says there's a limit on how many negative adjectives I can use to describe you?"

"Remind me again why we're friends," said Alex dryly.

"Because I'm irresistible," answered Olivia with a crooked grin.

"Elliot certainly thinks so. But why are we friends?"

Olivia thought about it. "Hmm. That's a good question."

"I ask a lot of good questions."

"Oh, we know," cut in Trevor, raising an eyebrow.

"We weren't talking to you," Olivia told him.

"Well, it's certainly not for your charm," Alex said mildly. "Or your grace. Or your tact."

Olivia smiled sweetly and gave Alex a hug. "You don't have to have a reason for loving me."

Alex nodded her agreement. "Who can explain it? Who can tell you why? Fools give you reasons; wise men never try."

Olivia frowned. "I have a feeling that's not entirely original."

Alex shrugged. "I guess not. Hammerstein. Good ear."

"Impressive," commented Abbie. "I would have thought you would only be able to quote politicians or something."

Alex looked down her nose at Abbie. "I can quote anyone when I want to. Being the nerd I am, I've read whole books of quotes."

"When the dictionary got too boring," added Olivia.

Alex threw her head back and sighed. "And you call me incorrigible!"

"Actually, you called yourself incorrigible," commented Olivia.

"No, I said that was probably the word you were looking for. I can't help your ineloquence."

Olivia groaned. "I forgot rule number one: never start an argument with Alex Cabot unless you want your ass kicked into the next week."

"True, true," agreed Alex.

"Anyway, back to the subject at hand."

"What was the subject at hand?"

"Dance dresses," Olivia reminded her.

"You need to give me a segue sometimes, Liv."

Olivia sighed. "I'm guessing you're waiting for me to ask you what a segue is. Not asking."

"I'll take the bait," volunteered Elliot. "What's a segue?"

"It's a smooth transition from one topic to another," answered Jack before Alex could open her mouth. She gave him a dirty look, which made him smirk. "You're not the only one with an extensive vocabulary."

Alex folded her arms over her chest. "Or so I'm told."

"Anyways, the dress," repeated Olivia.

"We're going shopping on Saturday. Do you want to come?"

"Sure. Kate won't mind – I'll text her."

"You can come too, Abbie," offered Alex.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't have anyone to go with."

"That might change."

"Pigs might fly, too. The last boyfriend – the only boyfriend – I've had was Damien and look how that turned out."

"Bad luck isn't necessarily a deterrent to potential boyfriends," commented Alex.

"But why shouldn't I have some more of it?"

Alex cocked her head. "Do you consider yourself a realistic pessimist or a pessimistic realist?"

"The latter," replied Abbie seriously. "What's the difference?"

Alex sighed. "Do you really want an answer?"

"No," interrupted Olivia. "We don't." She turned to Abbie. "We'll meet at Alex's on Saturday. You, too."

Abbie sighed, conceding. She had no chance against both of them. "Fine."

And that night, for the first night in months, she slept like a baby.

Review for chapter fifteen!