A/N: Max is back!

Max: Hooray for me! What did I miss?

Iggy: Pretty much everything. As you can see, seven of her stories are complete. And I was shunned from Aya notes! And it's her birthday.

Fang: No, not shunned. Neglected.

Max: (pats Iggy's head) Poor Ig. Here. Eat some bacon. And Aya, Happy Birthday.

Me: Aw, thanks. Where's my present?

Chapter 4

Max POV

For the last ten days, I felt like I was a walking time bomb.

My brain was ready to burst and any more names can kill me.

I think I know how Einstein felt. I totally agree with you, dude.

So anyway, I managed to remember only half of the total number of the students in these schools. Still, managing to remember half is still an achievement, right?

And in between those days, I also did my school work. (Yes, homeworks and such.)

During Day five, Tess got a cold. And I learned more about the student council. Aya is the editor-in-chief of the school paper and in charge of three other clubs. Brigid and Lissa are in charge of the Theatre and Drama Club. J.J., well, she's in Band and is the lead guitarist of Scintillate - the school's rock band. Tess is the school's couselor. You'd think it would be an adult's job.

The day Tess got the cold, she asked me a favor. She wanted me to be the substitute counselor.

Look, I'm not good with heart-to-heart conversations. Especially with another person in the same sex. It's just. . . weird. For me, it is.

I was gonna turn her down, but I didn't have the heart since she was sick. I should have said no - the hell with feelings getting hurt.

So, I spent my entire afternoon listening to 124 girls pour their emotions out until the walls were reeking with love and hate and sorrow and remorse. And tears.

It was like watching the Young and the Restless over and over again. And over again.

I didn't know normal girls could cry that much! Oh, the horror just by thinking about it!

One girl really stood out. She's in seventh grade and her name - sorry, alias - is Pretty Jane. Was she born without an imagination?

Anyway, Pretty told me that her best friend has been acting weird since she - Pretty - was saved from drowning by her. Apparently Pretty went to the school pool and tried to learn how to swim. It went downfill from there.

Pretty told me that her best friend wanted to spend more time together. And sometimes, she would catch her best friend staring weirdly at her. Her best friend - Dare Lillian (She has a bigger imagination than Pretty. Way to go!) - would move so close to her until they were inches away.

Tell me that does not freak you out.

So after Pretty left the office, I researched Dare Lillian.

I asked Aya who she was and some other important data.

"Why do you want to know about her, anyway?" Aya asked me while she was stacking some papers.

I played with the Newton balls on her desk. "I'm just intrigued." J.J. brought in some sodas and I took a can of Pepsi.

I chugged it while Aya clicked her pen. "Well, Dare Lillian is thirteen and in seventh grade."

I waved a hand. "Already knew that. Tell me something I don't know."

Aya shrugged. "Well, she's from Rome and just moved here in San Francisco three years ago," My eyebrows rose. "Exchange student. Anyway, her favorite subjects are Science and Art. Her grades in Science are impeccable. Her drawings can blow you away. Apparently, she has a fetish for bombs." Aya dropped the pen and stamped the paper.

A fetish for bombs? Totally weird. "So what exactly happened when Pretty drowned?"

"How should I know?" Brigid and Lissa came in arguing about jeggings. I just ignored them and frowned at Aya.

"You know everything! Can't you at least tell me?" I rose my voice about Lissa's protesting. Lissa and Brigid both shut up.

Aya shook her head. "Can't. Too busy. Gotta finish these papers by Friday." I urged her to tell me more, but she completely ignored me.

I stomped out of that room and isolated myself in our room.

What happened?

I have to know.

You can say it became an obsession.

Call it whatever you want. But this is something that really intrigued me.

So for the next four days, I studied Dare Lillian's every move. Like Pretty said, Dare was so close to her. Dare would have her arm around Pretty's shoulders. Dare would be holding hands with Pretty. Dare would not let go of Pretty when they hug even though it was time to let go.

Dare is a pretty girl. Long curly blonde hair and azure-colored eyes that you can see them from miles away because they're so bright. And she's a three inches taller than Pretty. (Pretty's 5'3".) She's the typical American girl.

But she has a fetish for bombs! That is not typical.

This afternoon, I'm studying Dare and Pretty work on their Pre-Al homework here in the library. As for me, I randomly took a book from the references shelf and opened it in a random page. I pretended to read the History of the Encyclopedia while looking at them.

I peek from the corner of the page and see Dare's right hand inch closer to Pretty's. Hmm. . .

I flip the page and continue looking.

Dare's eyes flash from Pretty's paper to her lips. OK. . .

Pretty puts down her pencil and smiles at Dare. Dare faintly smiles back.

I hear Pretty ask Dare what's wrong. Dare stammers by answering that she didn't understood the questions. I doubt Pretty noticed that she stammered.

So, Pretty patiently shows Dare how to work the problems. Dare nods, but I know her mind is not on Math. Naughty, naughty girl.

Then, they start talking about Pretty's crush on this boy. Dare's eyes turn dark from jealously. Pretty frowns and tells Dare that the guy she's crushing on is a total a-hole. Somehow, Dare looks relieved. Pretty keeps on going how men are douchebags and are so superficial. I totally agree.

Dare is startled by the opinion and leaps out of the chair.

"Men are not douchebags! Some men are kind and caring!" Girls startle because of her loud voice. I arch a brow since her voice sounds deeper. Like a boy's. She clears her throat and sits back down. She refuses to meet Pretty's gray eyes and I see some faint pink coloring on Dare's cheeks.

I snap the book shut and put it back to the shelf. I rise out of my chair and push it back to the table. I walk towards Dare and Pretty's table.

"Hi, girls," I smile sweetly at the two of them. I fix my eyes at Dare. "Your voice was quite loud."

Pretty smiles at me. "That was kinda embarrassing. And I already told Dare that I didn't mean it. But she won't look at me!"

I think I know why, Pretty. "She's just embarrassed. You might want to give her some space." Pretty nods and leaves the table. She looks back and glances at Dare. Dare still has her face hidden.

Pretty leaves and I grin. I lean closer to Dare's ear and whisper. "Let's have a talk. In my room."

Dare looks up at me and nods. She gathers her things and I take her head. We exit the library and walk to my room.

Once there, I tell Dare to sit on the couch. Dare gently lays her things beside her and she adjusts her skirt.

I take a stool and settle it in front of Dare. I turn it around so my chest is facing the back of the stool.

Dare's eyes wanders around the room.

I turn serious.

"Dare. Look at me." Dare meets my gaze.

"Is there something wrong?" She asks softly.

Instead of answering, I twist on my seat and fling my legs on one side. My left arm rests on top of the seat and I look hard at her.

"Tell me. Why would a Larenston student disguise himself as a girl and attend the school just across the street?"

Dare stiffens.

A/N: Hooray for Italians!

Fang: Why?

Me: For pasta. Duh. I just love spaghetti and can't get enough of it.

Max: Totally agree. God, I missed your mom's spaghetti.

Iggy: I didn't.

Me: Of course. RnR?