Disclaimer: Shakespeare owns some. Disney owns some. In my opinion, Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles own some. I only own the OCs.

Author's Note: Thanks to all my reviewers. Sorry for the wait, but Chapter Six should be out soon. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!

"Good mornin', good mornin'! It's great to stay up late, good mornin', good mornin' to you!" The light flickered on in Ashlee's bedroom and the baritone voice ceased its early morning serenade. "I didn't want to wake you up, but I remembered witnessing a huge show of hysterics sometime last month when I let you sleep through school."

She peered up at her brother from under the crook of her elbow. "It's a good thing you remembered," she croaked, "I can't always be missing school."

"Your voice seems to have stayed asleep," Patrick teased. "Anyway, I brought home some overpriced pastries for breakfast and Dave's offered to drive you to school today. He should be here in about fifteen minutes."

Untangling her legs from the sheets, Ashlee swung her feet to the floor. "You work too much," she grunted. "Now go on, I have to make myself presentable."

Patrick remained where he was. "I'm not leaving until you say, 'I'm up!' three times in a row and turn around in a circle while patting your head and rubbing your stomach."

Ashlee rolled her eyes, "Seriously Pat, I'm up."

"Don't think you can escape our tradition that easily, Ash, because you can't. Now, on your feet!"

With a sleepy groan, Ashlee levered herself up and began the process of proving her alertness. She had actually been the one to invent the game back when Patrick had been an exhausted thirteen-year-old who would have preferred to sleep the entire day away. Satisfied that she was properly awake, her brother left the room, calling back over his shoulder, "Fourteen minutes, Ash."

As soon as he was gone, Ashlee sat back down on her bed. The previous day had been trying but she had allowed herself to wallow in it and that was not a good thing. She'd made Patrick concerned and she'd also lied to him. Today she was going to find the silver lining in everything. Normal Ashlee was back. It didn't matter that Cameron would never speak to her again because he was afraid for his life. At least she had met him and was able to help him out with Bianca. Today was going to be a fabulous day, which meant she needed to be on time this morning. Crossing to her dresser, Ashlee chose a cheery outfit of jeans and a yellow and pink top. Then slipping on her converse, she grabbed her backpack and hurried to the kitchen.

"God, that shirt is very bright," Patrick commented from behind the newspaper he was reading.

Ashlee smirked, "How can you even see what I'm wearing?"

Her brother didn't reply, but he folded down the newspaper and set it beside him on the counter. Ashlee came and stood next to him. "You said you had pastries?"

"Yep, I swiped a few poppyseed muffins and an apple fritter or two."

"Poppyseed muffin, please."

Patrick turned to the opposite counter and grabbed a small paper bag from where it rested next to the refrigerator. Extracting the desired muffin, he deposited it in his sister's outstretched hand. "Are you feeling any better today?" he asked as he selected an apple fritter from the bag for himself.

Ashlee took a big bite of her muffin and spoke around it. "I am much better now, thank you. Sorry for being so testy yesterday. It was just a bad day."

"No details necessary, that is, unless you want to talk about it," Patrick interjected quickly, "Everyone is entitled to a few days of absolute bitchiness."

Punching her brother lightly on the arm, she deliberately changed the subject. "How's Cabin Fever treating you?"

"You see, Ash, it's hard to succumb to Cabin Fever when I spend the first three hours of my morning in a freezing cold coffee shop making skim lattes for overachieving office employees. I get home and relish that I don't have to suffer though a long boring day at school. Then I make myself a delicious lunch (unlike the shit I have to eat in the cafeteria) and I do some homework and watch The Godfather and sing along with the radio. Oh, and I check in on Grandpa every now and then. Cabin Fever. Yeah, it sucks."

"You don't have to rub your freedom in, asshole," Ashlee said as she leaned over to peer out the window. "Dave's here. I'd better go before he gets pissed."

Patrick laughed. "Have a good day at school, sweetie."

"Okay, Mum," Ashlee replied.

"Pay attention and learn a lot."

She didn't answer, instead slipping out the door to escape his sarcasm. "Hey Dave," she said as she climbed up into the cab of his rusty red pickup.

He nodded his hello to her and flipped off Patrick, who was now standing on the porch. Dave had never been one for a lot of words. Ashlee settled back into the stiff canvas covered seat and blew a kiss at her brother, watching as he made a huge show of jumping out of the way so it would miss him. Rolling her eyes, she buckled up and pulled out her unfinished homework from the night before. She flipped through her Chem work growing more disheartened by the moment. As they halted at the stop sign at the end of the Verona's street, Dave leaned over and removed the papers from her hands. Glancing at them for no more than a second, he rolled down his window and proceeded to dump the remainder of his morning tea over them. Ashlee let out a gasp of horror.

"Calm down," Dave said, pulling the wet mess back inside the truck. "Put these over the heat vent on the dash. They'll dry before we get to school."

She took the dripping wad from his sticky fingers and attempted to smooth the chemistry problems over the slats in the dashboard as Dave accelerated through the intersection. "Why the hell did you do that?"

Not bothering to turn his lidded gaze from the road to her face, Dave shrugged. "You kept making disturbing groans."

"So you destroyed my homework?"

"Yes, I did."

"Salaud!"

That gained her a look. "If you ever want to learn more creative French insults, let me know."

"Well, do you mind telling me how I'm supposed to pass this off?" Ashlee demanded, gesturing to the quickly drying homework.

"Say it was an accident, or better yet, say Patrick did it on purpose because you aggravated him."

"I'm not dragging Pat into this, Dave!"

His face remained as impassive as ever as he navigated the streets with a sense of care that did not match his Mohawk and tattoos. "It was just a suggestion."

Ashlee let out an excessively loud and obnoxious groan and banged her head back into the seat. To his credit, Dave didn't make any sign of annoyance, merely checking his blind spot before moving into the left turn lane. She repeated the groan. Still nothing. "You're a terrible person, David Scurvy."

Unable to get another word out of the taciturn male, Ashlee turned her attention to her US History assignment. "Don't even think about desecrating this textbook," she warned before delving into the reading that was due First Period. Before she had even finished the first five pages, the pickup was pulling into the Padua High parking lot. "Damn," she muttered, "I need to learn Patrick's speed reading trick."

Dave drove up next to the main entrance and let Ashlee out so she wouldn't have to walk all the way from the far corner of the senior lot where his designated spot resided. As she turned to grab her bag and the barely damp, though thoroughly stained beyond legibility, chemistry papers she grinned at her brother's best friend. "Thanks, by the way, I really didn't want to do that homework. Really."

The edge of his mouth rose slightly in the barest hint of a smile. "Anytime."

Slamming the door of the truck, Ashlee looked up at the looming entrance before her. She was on time. She was well rested. And most importantly, she determined to find the silver lining in everything. Today was going to be a good day.

"Alright, and pass your quizzes up to the front. As long as you did today's reading on the Reconstruction period, you have nothing to worry about," Mr. Hayes announced, a trace of satisfaction.

Ashlee set her pencil down and stared at her cramped penmanship that covered her quiz. She had done a decent job, though the last couple questions had come from the section of her reading that she hadn't finished. It was solid B work. With one final look at the thin stapled pile of papers, Ashlee handed them forward to Frankie Schuler who occupied the chair in front of her.

"Make sure you read through the end of Chapter 6 before Friday! You will be glad you did, ladies and gentleman. Hint. Hint."

Jotting down Mr. Hayes's not-so-subtle announcement of another pop quiz, Ashlee also made a mental note to study ahead of time for this one. Not that she would. It didn't matter how many resolutions she made to put more effort into her classes, she always managed to procrastinate and put off doing any real work for school. Grades were really not a big concern of hers. Patrick, on the other hand, did care and somehow managed to maintain a very high GPA despite his reputation. The rumor around school was that teachers passed him and graded him well because they were terrified he'd come after them during the night if they didn't. Ashlee knew the truth, which was that Patrick studied hard and did his homework, however he had sworn her to secrecy so that he could keep up his bad-boy persona. The scary scholar, that what he was, while she was the more artistic one. Or maybe the artistic-only one, as Pat had an artistic side as well as his studious one. Her favorite class was her Art elective, which luckily happened to be her next class. With a slight skip in her step, Ashlee made her way from the history classroom towards the Art rooms a few halls over.

Due to an unannounced 25-cent price raise in the cafeteria, Kat and Mandela were boycotting lunch, so Ashlee sat by herself at the small table. Her sketchbook lay on the table in front of her with a half finished design adorning the open page. The drawing, once completed, was going to be transferred onto a large canvas and turned into her midterm piece for her Art elective. Taking a bite from her tuna fish and tomato sandwich, Ashlee reached into her schoolbag and withdrew a handful of colored pencils. As she began adding highlights of color to the black and white sketch, she overheard a particularly sleazy voice drifting through the rest of the chaos of lunch period.

"Damn Kevin, I am so going to tap that thing, Daddy or no daddy."

Looking backwards over her shoulder, Ashlee was greeted by the sight of Joey Donner and his posse sneering at something, most likely someone, across the cafeteria. Rolling her eyes, she swiveled around to see who was unfortunate enough to be Donner's newest target. Bianca Stratford. Go figure. The guy seriously needed to get a hobby other than banging all the girls in school. Besides, since Bianca had become popular at the beginning of sophomore year a few months back, no one had succeeded in even getting close to her. According to common gossip, as well as snippets of information Ashlee had gleaned from various lunches with Kat, Mr. Stratford was a tad over-protective and had indeed installed a no-dating policy – much to Bianca's chagrin.

"Just look at that tight little booty, boys."

Ugh, she was going to be sick. Gazing distastefully at the remainder of her sandwich, Ashlee shoved her sketchbook and pencils back into her bag and rose from the table. Tossing her leftover lunch into a nearby wastebin, she headed for the cafeteria exit. Once out of hearing range of Donner's disgusting and chauvinistic comments, Ashlee made for her lockers to get her Chemistry book. Entering her locker combination, Ashlee suddenly heard a loud exclamation in her ear.

"She called me! She called me, Ashlee!"

Long arms encircled her waist and spun her around. Gasping in surprise, Ashlee brought her hands up, planted them on her unknown assailants chest, and shoved him backwards. With a thud, Cameron landed on his butt, a glowing smile still plastered across his face.

"Cameron?" Ashlee asked, shocked. Here was the guy that she wasn't supposed to see ever again, and he seemed excited to talk to her!

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Ashlee, but I'm just so excited," he said, scrambling to his feet. "I know it's only tutoring and it's only two hours a week, but it's a start. I also know that the odds are against me and that I'm acting like a complete lunatic, but I don't care. Michael says that she'll never give me the time of day and that her father is more of a nutcase than I am, but he also thinks you're scary as hell, so he doesn't quite have all of his marbles left either, if you ask me."

As Cameron paused, solely to take a huge breath, Ashlee cut in quickly, "Calm down, Cameron, you're ranting. Umm, I take it that Bianca called about French tutoring? When is the first session?"

If it was possible for him to smile any wider, he did. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow right after school. Oh god, what should I wear? How should I act? What should I do?"

As awkward as the situation was, Ashlee couldn't help but chuckle a little. "I would suggest wearing clothes, acting calm, and tutoring her in French."

Cameron's smile vanished and his eyes grew large, "But I don't speak French, remember?"

"I thought you were going to learn the basics."

"I only have one day!" He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Shit. This won't be pretty. She'll walk out on me as soon as we start and she realizes that I can't speak a word of French. Then she'll never even look at me again."

Ashlee rolled her eyes. "Again, calm down, Cameron. It'll be fine. Bianca's French is atrocious. With a few hours of studying tonight and perhaps a French film or two – to familiarize yourself with the accent and all – you'll be great come tomorrow. Really, no sweat."

"No sweat?!" His panicked expression was comical.

"Need I remind you that this whole French tutor thing was your brilliant idea, Mr. Genius?"

He sighed. "I know I'm acting like a complete and utter idiot right now. I just feel like she's the one, you know? I can't really explain why or how I feel this way, I just do. And I didn't actually expect her to call me last night, but she did. And now I don't know what to do. I want to be near her, to get to know her, but I don't think I'll be able to pull this off."

Inwardly, Ashlee groaned. Next he was going to ask her to help him learn French. He was going to try to suck her further into this mess that she wanted none of. Except she did want some of it. He was so sweet and clueless and Bianca really didn't deserve him. However, he wanted Bianca. "What are you doing after school today, Cameron?"

"I was going to go to the library to get French books with Michael. Would you like to come? Oh my god, could help me with my French?!" The loopy grin was back.

Here went nothing. "Yeah sure, but I warn you, my French is quite possibly worse than Bianca's."

Cameron launched himself at her, his wiry arms enveloping her in another hug, and Ashlee knew that she would help this boy get whatever he wanted, anything to make him happy.

"Are you kidding? I'm not going in there to meet his little sister!"

"Michael, geez, she's not the least bit scary…or dangerous, for that matter. Now come on, she's going to help me with my French!"

Ashlee waited inside the tiny café that sat next to the local library, ignoring the last bit of her small tea. Apparently Cameron hadn't told Michael of her addition to the gang until just now, and to say that Michael was less than thrilled was a severe understatement. Operation Woo Bianca Via French Lessons was off to a rocky beginning and if the boys didn't hurry up, Patrick was going to have a conniption fit. She had called home from the payphone at school to tell him that she'd be a few hours later than usual because she had to meet up with some classmates for a group project. That was before Cameron had to postpone the meeting by a half hour in order to have a mandatory second check-in with Ms. Perky to make sure he was doing alright at Padua High. Then Michael was ten minutes late meeting them at the library. Now this.

"If he kills us because of this, I'm going to kill you!"

"That makes absolutely no sense, Michael. Seriously, it'll be okay. Ashlee's cool."

"Yeah, she's cool and calculating, right down to when she slits our throats!"

"What the hell, Michael. Don't be ridiculous! She's not going to slit your throat. She's a normal, really really nice, girl and she can probably hear you since you can't seem to keep your voice down."

"Oh shit."

"Chill, man. Come on, we've been waiting for you for a while."

The two of them entered the café and Michael gulped nervously. Ashlee stood and stepped towards them. "Hi, you must be Michael. I'm Ashlee," she said, offering her hand.

Michael swallowed hard again. "Umm, I'd rather not touch you, just to be safe. Your brother is –"

"—not here," Ashlee cut in, offering her hand again. How Patrick instilled this much terror in their fellow classmates was beyond her.

With a glance of desperation at Cameron, Michael accepted the handshake, snatching his hand back as soon as possible. "Hi," he muttered.

Cameron looked highly amused. "See, I told you she didn't bite."

The next hour and a half was spent amongst the bookshelves of the library and in one of the group study rooms that was supposedly soundproof. It turned out to be not as soundproof as advertised; one of the librarians knocked on the door a few times to tell the three of them to keep the noise down. Cameron kept oscillating between feeling confident about the French he was learning and feeling depressed about how little he knew. Michael attempted to be brave in the face of what he thought was huge danger. He playacted Bianca so Cameron would have someone to practice with, while Ashlee fought to maintain her frustration at the boys' antics.

"Cameron, stop cracking your knuckles. It shows your nerves and is generally just plain annoying."

The knuckle cracking ceased as the culprit turned to look at her. "Why couldn't Bianca need tutoring in German. Ich spreche Deutsch! Ich je parle Francais nicht!"

"Je ne parle pas francais, Cameron."

"Whatever! I can't speak French! I just can't!"

Ashlee shook her head. "Say it in French. Do it."

"I can't," Cameron whined.

"Dude," Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest, "I can even say it in French. Je ne parle pas francais."

Cameron glared. "Dude, not helpful."

"Come on, Cameron, do you want to do this or not. I have other things I could be doing with my time if you are just going to give up on this," Ashlee said. "As it is, I need to leave soon or else my brother is going to send out a search party for me."

"I'm sorry, Ashlee. I know I'm being an ass about everything, and I really do appreciate your help. And I do want to go through with this. Bianca is worth it. So, without further ado, je ne parle pas francais. Or should I say, je parle francais. I do speak French."

"Bravo," Michael drawled, closing the giant English to French dictionary that lay on the table before him. "Cameron, my man, I'm with Ashlee on this one: any more French today and my head is going to explode."

Cameron nodded. "Alright. Help me carry all of these books up to the checkout counter and I'll leave off studying till I get home tonight."

Together, the three of them lugged the large books up to the librarian's desk and then out to Cameron's car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Michael," Cameron said as he closed his trunk. "I'm going to run Ashlee home now and then I'm going to learn French the rest of the night."

"You're taking her home?" Michael face drained of color. He had grown more accustomed to Ashlee's presence throughout the time in the library, but this was apparently too much for him. "Dude, he'll see you! Do you have a death wish?"

"Wouldn't he be more upset if I just left her here to find her own way home?"

"Um," Ashlee said, "She is standing right here."

The boys shared matching sheepish expressions.

"Ahem, and She would like to go home now, if you don't mind."

That got them moving. Michael waved his farewells, casting an apprehensive glance over his shoulder at his new best friend. Cameron unlocked the car doors, opening Ashlee's side for her, before backing out of the nearly empty parking lot and following her directions towards her house. "Thanks again for the help," he said, "I know we just met yesterday and all, and I really appreciate everything you've done to help me with Bianca. You're a really kindhearted person."

Ashlee blushed slightly and fought down the simultaneous joy and sadness that rose inside of her at his words. He was so nice and so unavailable. "Anytime," she heard herself say.

For the remainder of the short drive, Ashlee drilled Cameron on his French. By the time they reached her street, he had an inkling of a proper French accent. As she climbed out of his car, assuring him that he didn't need to get out and open her door for her, she cast her chauffer a smile. "Thanks for the ride. And good luck with French practice tonight."

"Maybe I can catch you in the hall tomorrow before I meet with Bianca. You know, last minute good luck and all," he said, handing her out her schoolbag.

Ashlee's smile became a grin. "Maybe. See you tomorrow."

With a wave, Cameron drove off, leaving Ashlee watching after him a few seconds before heading into the house and a waiting Patrick. Opening the front door, she was greeted with the sight of Patrick hunched over a pile of textbooks. A used paper plate lay on the floor next to his chair, and the radio's cord was stretched so it could sit on the table. "You missed dinner," he said without looking up.

"I know. The project took a little longer but at least we made a decent start on it."

"I put a plate of food away for you. It's in the microwave."

"Thanks," she said just as her stomach grumbled loudly.

He glanced over, one eyebrow raised. "Well now."

She laughed. "I guess I had better go eat then."

"I guess you'd better."

"Then I'm going to take a quick nap."

Frowning, Patrick pushed back his chair and rose. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, the study group wore me out a bit though. I just need a tiny rest before I do my homework. Or before I don't do my homework. Whichever I feel like when I wake up."

"Food," he prompted.

"Microwave," she retorted.

"Butt."

"Hutt."

"Jerk"

"Uh – "

"I win," he announced. "Now go eat and then nap."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm in the mood for a cup of tea and a movie. How about you?"

Patrick looked up from a sheaf of papers that were covered in scary-looking equations and diagrams. "Tea and a movie sound great, but you'll have to give me another half and hour to finish these calculus problems, okay?"

"Sure," Ashlee said, stopping to peer over her brother's shoulder. "Shit, remind me never to take higher math. How can you stand that stuff?"

"It's not so bad, surprisingly. Not as fun as Biology, but then again, what is?"

Ashlee made a gagging sound and continued on her path to the kitchen. "I'll pop some popcorn and put the teakettle on. Any movie preference?"

Patrick's voice drifted in from where he sat at the living room coffee table. "No, you can pick, just as long as it's not some sappy romantic crap that you females are always watching."

"I do not appreciate all the members of my gender being clumped together in such a broad stereotype! We do not all watch romantic movies and for your information, While You Were Sleeping is neither 'sappy' nor 'crap'!" Setting the teakettle on the front burner of the stove, Ashlee opened the cupboard to find the box of popcorn.

"Is that the one you made me rent a few weeks ago, cause if it's the one I'm thinking of, it is most certainly sappy."

Ashlee smirked. "I notice you didn't call it crap."

No response.

"Hey Patrick, do you know where the box of popcorn went? I thought it was on the second to top shelf in the pantry cupboard."

"Top shelf, dishes cupboard. Now will you please let me finish this homework?"

"Found it," Ashlee said. "Sorry about the interruption."

"Raiders of the Lost Ark."

Ashlee set the timer on the microwave before responding. "What?"

"Let's watch Raiders of the Lost Ark. We haven't watched Indy in a while."

"Raiders it is, then. Now quit slacking off and do your bloody homework, Patrick!"

She smiled as his soft laughter wafted into the kitchen to join the cheerful popping of the popcorn.