I'm very, very, very sorry that it's been such a long time since my last update. I've been busy working on a couple of my other stories and actually living my life instead of spending all my time on fanfiction! (Yes, I do have a life – well an almost life?) My next updates might be sporadic because we're going to New York soon (which I'm soooo excited about and if I could I would spend all my time there stalking the SVU set, but I'm pretty sure my dad won't let me) and the day after we get back, school is starting. *sigh* Such is life.

Jack stopped Abbie in the hallway the next day. He looked nervous – uncharacteristically so, and that made Abbie nervous too.

Jack cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come to the spring dance with me."

Abbie winced. "I don't need a sympathy date, Jack. But thanks for asking."

"It's not a sympathy date. I want to go with you."

Abbie tried to gauge whether or not he was being genuine. "Really?"

"Why not?"

Abbie thought about it. Did she want to go with him? She did, but was she ready for a commitment? Or was she ready to give him the idea that she might be ready for a commitment? For her, going to a dance was a big deal. With some people, they could go with their best friends and it didn't mean anything, but to Abbie, it was a huge decision. Finally, she agreed. "Sure."

Jack grinned and took her hands in his. "Great." His enthusiasm was genuine, and she smiled back.

She was beaming as she plopped down in her seat in science class, beside Olivia, who raised her eyebrows. "What are you so happy about?"

"You need a reason to be sad. You don't need a reason to be happy." She smirked. "Louis Sachar. I can quote famous people too."

Olivia heaved a theatrical sigh. "Okay, spill."

"Jack asked me to the dance."

"No way!"

"Yup."

"That's awesome." Then something else occurred to Olivia. "So are you going?"

"Of course."

"You need a dress."

"Thanks for pointing that out, Einstein," said Abbie sarcastically. "I hadn't even thought about it."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "You never change, do you?"

"Not recently, no."

"You're incorrigible."

"Yes, Alex, I'm sure I am."

"Anyway, we'll go out and get dresses this weekend. You need someone with good taste."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I didn't mean me! I meant Alex."

"Anything that she likes, I'm sure neither of us would be able to afford."

Olivia sighed. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"With Alex, it isn't all about the money."

"I know. I don't – I mean, we aren't poor, but we don't have much here. We had a lot more in Texas."

Olivia gave her a wry smile. "Jealous?"

"Yes," admitted Abbie. "I'm surprised you're not."

Olivia shrugged. "We've known each other since kindergarten. I gave this kid a black eye for teasing her about being a nerd. She was smarter than everyone else and she didn't even try to hide it, which was probably stupid, but whatever. She read chapter books while we were learning our alphabet. We've been inseparable ever since."

Abbie smirked. "I guess opposites do attract."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Can I copy your homework?"

Abbie shrugged. "Sure, but it's probably all wrong. You could do it yourself – properly – in the same amount of time."

"Thanks, but no thanks. Mr. Prinze is going to come around checking homework and he's going to kill me when he realizes I don't have it done."

"Why didn't you do it?"

"We went out for Kate's birthday and didn't get home until late. I finished my English and my math, but I didn't quite get around to my science. Prioritizing, you know?"

Abbie handed over her science sheet. "Your Royal Highness."

Olivia smiled sweetly. "Thanks, Abbie."

On Saturday, Abbie had her mother drop her off at Alex's apartment. Mrs. Carmichael was glad that first of all, Abbie was going to the dance, and secondly, that she was actually spending the day with her friends.

Olivia was already there, lounging on Alex's bed as the blonde did her nails. "Are you done yet?" she griped.

Alex rolled her eyes and turned toward Abbie. "Hi, Abbie." She looked back at Olivia. "They won't be done for another fifteen minutes or so." As Olivia started to blow on them to speed up the process, Alex stopped her. "Don't blow on them! They won't dry properly."

Olivia made a face. "Hi, Abbie," she said. "I guess we're not going anywhere for fifteen minutes."

Abbie shrugged and perched on the side of the bed next to Alex. "Fine. Is your mom taking us, Alex?"

Alex shook her head. "She's at some charity gala with the Manhattan elite."

Abbie glanced at Olivia, tsk-tsking. "She does it herself!"

Olivia grinned and shrugged her shoulders, and Alex looked from one to the other and crossed her arms. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," said Abbie quickly. "Who's driving us, then?"

"Her driver," Olivia replied.

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Is your name Alex?"

Olivia thought about it, clearly trying to come up with something snarky, but she finally settled on, "No."

Abbie smirked. "Right." She sprawled out on her stomach and folded her hands behind her head, snickering at the look on Olivia's face as she waited for the nail polish to dry.

"So are we taking the BMW?" asked Olivia, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Alex looked down her nose at the brunette. "We don't have a BMW."

"Oh, right. You have a Lamborghini, a Mercedes-Benz . . . oh, am I missing something?"

"The stretch limousine," replied Alex with a grin. "My mom's out in it."

Olivia shrugged. "The Lamborghini works for me. Someday, I'm going to have one of my own."

"Someday, you're going to become a movie star," Alex told her. "And you're going to have a house in the Hamptons and your own yacht and private jet and whatever else it is you want."

"And someday you're going to be a diplomat or the president or something."

"Or the queen," added Abbie.

"Or the queen," agreed Alex.

"You'd be a good queen," commented Olivia. "You know, you're bossy and annoying as hell, but you are eloquent and very photogenic. Oh, and did I mention rich?"

Alex laughed.

"Can we go now?"

"No," said Alex. "Your nails aren't dry yet?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I never understand why you have such a fascination with doing my nails. Just do your own. Or Abbie's."

Abbie clasped her hands protectively behind her back. "You're not getting anywhere near my fingernails!"

"I never understand why neither of you like manicures," remarked Alex. "I love them."

"You could have your own manicurist if you wanted one," said Olivia, rolling her eyes.

"But that would defeat the whole purpose," Alex explained patiently.

"What is the whole purpose?" asked Abbie.

Alex sighed. "Do you really want me to explain it to you?"

"She doesn't," said Olivia quickly. "I don't care if my nails are dry or not. I want to leave!"

Alex fixed her with a disapproving glare. "You just want to ride in the sports car."

"Yup," agreed Olivia unashamedly.

Alex rolled her eyes. "What if I told you we were walking?"

"Then I wouldn't want to come with you," said Olivia, shrugging unabashedly.

Alex shook her head. "You're something else."

Olivia smiled proudly. "I know."

Alex sighed. "Fine. You win. I'll go get James."

As Alex got off the bed and left, Olivia turned to Abbie with an almost star struck look in her eyes. "Did you hear that, Abbie? I won. Alex actually told me I won!"

Abbie laughed. "That's such a big deal to you, winning an argument with Alex?"

Olivia shrugged again. "I'm competitive by nature. So sue me."

"Put on your shoes," Alex ordered when she came back into her bedroom.

"Yes, ma'am," said Olivia, rolling her eyes as she complied, Abbie doing the same.+

They walked outside where the car was waiting, and Abbie had to admit, it was quite a beauty. It was a silver convertible and it looked powerful.

Alex climbed into the passenger seat and Abbie and Olivia climbed into the backseat. Alex told the driver where they wanted to go and they were off.

Abbie closed her eyes and folded her hands behind her head. "I could get used to this," she commented.

"Someday," agreed Olivia. "After I've made my third million, I'll invite you up to my mansion in the Hamptons and take you out on my eighty-foot yacht and drive you around in my Porsche convertible. I would invite Alex too, except she's used to that already so it won't mean anything to her."

"Hey! I heard that!" called Alex from the front seat, pretending to be offended. "I invite you up to my parents' yacht in the summer."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Only the social elite make the distinction between their money and their parents' money."

"True, true," agreed Alex good-naturedly.

They arrived at the mall and Alex told James she'd call him when they needed to be picked up. Abbie remembered her manners and said, "Thank you for the ride."

"Thanks, James," added Olivia, then hopped out of the car, turning and watching it drive away with a look of slight longing on her face.

"You want that car, don't you?" teased Alex.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Am I that obvious?" As they went inside, she added, "No Armani or whatever. Stick within our price range."

Alex shrugged. "You give me such a hard time about being an 'elitist,' but you actually make a bigger deal of it than I do."

Olivia shrugged, too. "I'm jealous," she said honestly.

Alex rolled her eyes. "I noticed."

They walked around the mall, going in and out of different stores, mostly just browsing, until Olivia commanded, "Stop."

Alex and Abbie stopped. "What?" asked Abbie.

Olivia pointed at a black halter dress in the window. "That's my dress."

Alex and Abbie exchanged glances. "Okay, go try it on."

Olivia found the right size for the dress and went into the changing room. She came out a moment later, modeling the dress for her friends. "Mine!" she said possessively.

"It's nice," Abbie told her.

"It flatters you," added Alex, smug at having used more colorful vocabulary than Abbie, who rolled her eyes.

"I'm getting it," decided Olivia, glancing from Alex to Olivia as if daring one of them to contradict her. Neither said a word.

They spent the next few hours shopping, and they all managed to find dresses and shoes to match. Alex said she would lend Olivia a necklace to wear with her dress, because she had more jewelry than anyone they knew.

When they got back to Alex's apartment, they modeled their dresses again, along with the shoes and jewelry they were going to wear. "Trevor's going to think you're beautiful," Olivia told Alex.

Alex smiled. "Elliot's going to think you're beautiful."

Olivia shrugged dismissively. "Elliot already thinks I'm beautiful." She smiled back. "I am beautiful."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "And so modest, too."

"I have many virtues," agreed Olivia.

"Patience isn't one of them," teased Abbie.

"Definitely not."

They admired themselves in the mirror for a few moments, then changed back into their street clothes and played Monopoly until Abbie's mother arrived to pick her up.

"'Bye, Liv. Thanks for taking us out, Alex," said Abbie politely, because she knew her mother was listening.

Mrs. Carmichael nodded approvingly. "Can I see your dress?"

"When we get home," replied Abbie, following her mother downstairs.

"When's the dance?"

"Friday," Abbie told her.

"Who are you going with?"

"Jack. Jack McCoy." Seeing her mother's confusion, she added, "You don't know him."

"Is he cute?"

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Honestly, sometimes you act more like a teenager than I do. But yes, he's cute."

Mrs. Carmichael smiled. "Well, I'm glad you're going."

"We're going to Alex's house first. Her driver's going to take us."

Abbie's mother raised an eyebrow. "Her driver?"

Abbie shrugged. "Didn't you see the size of their place? They have money."

Mrs. Carmichael chuckled lightly. "Must be nice."

"Uh huh," agreed Abbie.

When they got home, Abbie showed her mother her dress. It was a mixture between navy and violet, and it had spaghetti straps. "You look gorgeous," Mrs. Carmichael told her, kissing Abbie's forehead.

Abbie smiled. "Thanks, Mom." She wasn't used to being on such good terms with her mother. It was kind of . . . nice. Then she noticed her mother had tears in her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing. You just look so grown up."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Aren't you supposed to say that at my prom or my graduation or my wedding or something?"

Mrs. Carmichael smiled. "I can say it more than once."

"I'm excited about the dance," Abbie confessed.

"So? That's a good thing."

Abbie paused, realizing a second too late that she shouldn't voice her answer, that she shouldn't tell her mother that she hadn't been excited about anything in a very long time. So all she said was, "I know."

Review for chapter sixteen!