James The Lesser Presents His Version of the Daria Gender Flip Based off of Not So Different.

Not So Different Is a Story by The Other J-D. I read it and enjoyed it but had my own ideas for how the end of season four-Rest of Series could go. I asked permission and he granted it so I am going to do my own version of the show starting at S4 E12 Fire! His story is really good and I hope those who haven't given it a chance does! It will mostly be the same but a few variations thrown in for my ideas.I don't know exactly how to do an idea like this so this will be done by trial and error.

School's Out For Summer

School was packing up for summer.

Helen Morgendorffer was still working hard on her big case.

Jake Morgendorffer was still working hard for Le Grand Hotel.

And neither of them had noticed that Sonny had no plans to work hard over the summer. Or, indeed, to work at all. For the first time he could remember, his mother had not lined up a tedious summer activity for him. No music lessons, no summer camp—Sonny suppressed a shudder at the recollection of Camp Grizzly—no nothing.

Of course, if he started dating, it might possibly mean hard work figuring out the whole 'more than friends' thing, and feelings and stuff, but … he put that whole subject firmly out of his head. He definitely didn't want it there while he was trying to smooth things down with Jane.

She hadn't laughed or snorted or even smirked at one thing he'd said since Tom had broken up with her and they had talked. He started to raise his hand to scratch behind his ear and then dropped it. Hadn't he just decided to put the whole business out of his head? He did it again, more firmly still, and concentrated on Jane. She was walking just a step ahead of him. She'd been doing that a lot lately. He didn't try to catch up and get back in step with her, because if he did that she'd just speed up the minimum required to make sure she still stayed one step ahead of him. That was a contest he could never win.

He tried for a wisecrack instead, suggesting that he was finding out what it felt like to be a Lane. Jane's first response was in kind.

'That can't be, since it's only afternoon and you're already out of bed.'

Encouraged, Sonny went on to explain that with the absence of parental involvement in his life, he was turning into Jane.

'Well, that would make us siblings. That would stop any thoughts of...'

Okay, thought Sonny, this is now officially not going well. Aloud, he said, 'That would be a way to end the problem, wouldn't it?'

Jane looked over her shoulder at him and grimaced, then shook her head, before announcing that, unlike him, she did have summer plans. She'd been accepted into a two-month program at an artists' colony run by somebody who used to be in a commune with her mother, and she'd be painting and sculpting her heart out.

Sonny had enough trouble sounding enthusiastic on the rare occasions when he actually was enthusiastic. He couldn't make his congratulations sound sincere. He'd got the point at once: for two months Jane would be away from Lawndale and away from him. She wouldn't even respond to his endeavors to extract information about the location of the artists' colony. She just told Sonny that with her away he'd have that much more time for his 'budding social life'.

Now it was Sonny's turn to grimace. She'd been like this ever since the whole thing with Stacy had started. He'd have thought, in the circumstances, that a friend could cut a friend just a little bit of slack. Especially since there was nothing there. She just wanted some one with a brain to explain the movie she wanted to see.


It was weird enough for Sonny when Stacy did come over.

Jake opens the door and sees Stacy. "Quinn, your friend is here!"

Stacy smiles. "Actually, I'm here to see Sonny. We're seeing an artsy film thingy."

"Sonny? That's my boy! Sonny, your," Sonny comes down the stairs cutting him off.

"Not a date, just a friend." He moves past his dad and leaves the house with Stacy.

Jake watches the two walk out to Stacy's car. "That's my boy!" Ignoring what Sonny had said about it not being a date Jake goes back inside the house.

Sonny was surprised to hear Quinn was getting a tutor. He was almost as surprised at getting invited to Jodie's end of school party. He wasn't going to go until he heard Quinn would be there. "Any chance to embarrass her is a chance I can't pass up."

He tried to get Jane to go but she said she would be busy getting ready for her trip to the art commune.

He is talking with Jodie when he hears some one call out to him. He turns around and sees Stacy. "Hey."

"I didn't think you'd come to this."

He looks around and sees the rest of the Fashion Club surrounded by their admirers. "Any chance to embarrass my sister."

Stacy smiles at him. "She really is but she shouldn't be. You're a lot cooler than you let on."

"Cool is not a word that describes me."

"Ok, wrong word. Gah, I should get a tutor like Quinn so I can know the right words."

Sonny sees an opportunity. His mother would eventually realize it was summer and try and rope him in to some project. If he made one of his own that he agreed to then maybe... "I could tutor you. If you wanted."

"Really? How much? I heard your mom is paying Quinn's tutor and,"

Sonny stops her. "For free. Just provide soda and pizza when I need it."

"Ok, great! Thanks! You're the best." Stacy turns and goes back to her group.

Sonny's mother couldn't stay ignorant of the approach of the school's summer vacation forever. No matter how much he hoped she would.

She wanted to know what Sonny was doing for summer. Sonny had foreseen this moment and had his answer ready. "I'm tutoring." Naturally his mother wanted to know exactly what it was.

'I'm sorry', Sonny said as he looked over at Quinn, 'but the confidentiality agreement I signed with the government prevents me from revealing that. I've already said too much.'

'Sonny, I'm serious. I'm not going to let you sit around the house all summer.'

'Fine. I'll lie around the house all summer. When I'm not tutoring.'

"Who?"

"I can't say."

"Why?"

"Mom, I swear, I agreed to tutor some one."

Helen glares. "I don't think hanging out at your friend Jane's all day counts as tutoring." Sonny doesn't respond. "You'll have to work that in around working at the OK To Cry Corral."

"What?! Mom, seriously,"

"I am serious. I'm not letting you waste away the summer. You're helping that strange man Timothy and getting out of the house."

"You signed me up with out asking or telling me?"

"I know you have no real plans. Now you do."

"I do have real plans. Plans I was going to start on tonight."

"Hanging out with your friend is not a plan."

"She's not a friend she's,"

Helen's eyes go a little wide. "She? And not Jane who I know you consider a friend? Sonny, do I need to ask,"

"No." Sonny gets up from the table and leaves.

He goes upstairs and gets on the phone to call Stacy. "Hello?"

"Hi, Stacy?"

"Sonny! Are we still working on the book stuff tonight?"

"Um, if you want. I might not have as much time over the summer since I'll be stuck at the Ok To Cry Corral as a counselor."

"Oh, that thing Mr. O'Neil wanted volunteers for?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who else volunteered?"

"I doubt any one would."

"Oh. Well, they might need a female influence if it is just you and Mr. O'Neil. Maybe I should volunteer!" Sonny mumbles about getting away from the other Fashion Fiends. He didn't mumble enough. "Exactly!" He hears her giggle.

"I didn't mean for you to hear that."

"That's ok. And if we have time on the bus or whatever we can work on studying and stuff! Look at the bright side of life."

"I, I guess. I want to start on math, do you have your own calculator?"

"I do."

"Ok, I'll be over around six."

"Ok! See you then!" They hang up.

"Look on the bright side of life? Why not the bright side of death? Just before you draw your terminal breath." He shakes his head as he tries to prepare himself for the upcoming tutoring.


Sonny's summer was almost there as he walked the halls on the very last day of school, which was also the very last day he'd have the chance to talk with Jane before her summer plans kicked in. When he put it to her, she purported to be ready to talk—but not about 'the dating thing'.

'If you're still upset about it, we should deal with it now', Sonny said. 'Especially since we won't be seeing each other all summer.'

'You don't get it, do you? I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to think about it. Now let it freaking go, okay?'

Sonny tried at least to get her to let him buy her a good-luck pizza before her departure for her big art adventure, but she just rejected him again. As he watched her go, he thought to himself, Well, I hope I never see you when you are mad at me about any thing. Then he remembered that he had, and just what that was like.


Not wanting her to leave on a bad note, Sonny goes to Casa Lane after school and knocks on the door.

When the door opens he isn't surprised to see Trent. "Oh, hey Sonny."

"Hi Trent, is Jane home?"

"Sure, but she's been upset since breaking up with Tom."

"I figured."

"You hurt her too."

Sonny can't look him in the eyes. "I know but... I don't date. At least, I've never thought about it."

"That's not it. Even if you don't date you should have been there for her. A friend would have been there."

"I didn't do anything on purpose. I didn't know what Tom was going to say. I don't want to deal with him or their relationship or dating.

"But you do deal with your friend."

Sonny feels the guilt trip coming. "Can I talk with her? See if I can't be there for her now?"

Trent moves to the side and lets Sonny in.

Jane says to come in and he does. She is sitting on her bed eating raw cookie dough looking at a canvas covered in red paint. Behind the red paint was a woman Sonny recognized. "Lightbody?"

"I was doing a painting of her as a sort of book cover if you ever decided to print your stories."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. I was upset and angry at every one.

"I should have talked with you. About Tom and the, other thing."

"And let me berate you and scream and yell? I wasn't fit for human consumption."

"Cannibals would agree. Too lean and stringy." He sees a smile on her face. "I still should have come over."

"And blow off your date with Stacy?"

"It wasn't a date. I was trying to explain to her the symbolism of the women in the movie smoking while the men only ate junk and fast food."

Jane gives him a quizzical look. "Huh?"

"Women pollute with poison that is hip and cool while men consume some thing not poisonous but considered disgusting."

"Sounds... Like some thing you, or Tom, would enjoy."

"It was ok. Having to try and explain other parts got annoying but I was surprised to see Stacy trying. To think, one of the Fashion Fiends only wants a brain."

"You?"

"I meant..." He sees the look on her face. "Ha. Look, Jane, I'm sorry I blew you off. I'm here now if you want to talk?"

She takes a bite out of her cookie dough. "I don't know. I might say some thing that you don't like."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"That would make things awkward between us."

Sonny only stares in response.

"Now might be the best chance, like you said, since I am going to the art commune this summer."

"It sounds like it is right up your alley."

"I hope so." She looks at the painting she ruined. "Well, while I'm gone, you can hang out more with your new friend."

"I'll try explaining to her what the different shapes on the cereal box represent."

She points at him with the cookie dough. "Seriously, you need more than one friend. I need more than one friend. Maybe I can make new ones at this retreat."

"Are you sure you want me to hang out with her?"

"If she is just a friend..." She looks for a reaction on his face but as normal he gives none. "If we are still friends, or more. Remember what I said during the blizzard that almost killed us? About the road trip and you had that stain on your ass?" He nods. "It was a joke, mostly. I was checking out your ass since you were wearing some thing different that actually showed you had one."

Sonny feels uncomfortable immediately. "Jane, please, stop."

"See? I told you it would make you uncomfortable."

"I know you did. You're my friend and I know we've talked about it recently," Jane cuts him off.

"Really? Never going to date? What about college? After college? Ten years from now?"

Sonny starts to get mad at her reaction.

"If I did lose my mind I sure as hell wouldn't date you! You know too much about me and when we broke up it would ruin our friendship."

"You say when like it is impossible to end any other way."

"Do I look like the type of person to marry any one? Why would any one want to? I'm a sarcastic asshat who pushes every one away and rejects them before they reject me."

"I didn't reject you and you didn't push me away."

With his back turned to Jane he couldn't see the hurt look on her face. "You're the exception that proves the rule."

"Look, ok, I get your hesitation against dating any one but maybe we could be different? You think I know too much about you, well, you know too much about me too. Being my friend let me share stuff with you I would never share with any one else. We could still be friends but maybe... More? Ease in to things."

He sighs heavily. "Maybe."

"I'm not saying jump in to bed together but maybe, hold hands? Start slow."

He turns back around to face her. "Look, Jane, I don't get it. How could any one like me? I'm not even sure why you do half the time. Dating is just beyond my scope of understanding."

"Stacy likes you enough to go see that film with you."

"She needed some one with an IQ higher than that of a frog we dissected last year. I'm probably the only one she knows like that."

"Sonny, damn it, why do you have to be so hard headed?"

"So when people beat me up my brain stays protected."

"You haven't been beaten up in weeks."

"I've been smart enough to avoid them."

"Sonny, I'm trying to be serious. You are my best friend and if we went beyond that I wouldn't be upset. Again, not saying rush in to things but maybe? If it gets too weird then we act like it was just an experiment for school or some thing and leave it at that."

"I'll... Think about it. Like we said we would before."

"Well, after this Friday I'll be at the retreat for two months. I know you like to overthink things but two months is more than enough time even for you to think."

"Fine, one week, two months, deadline after that." The two stare at each other in uncomfortable silence before Sonny leaves.

Helen had become used to her son saying that he 'didn't date'. That he didn't "need friends". It wasn't the most important thing. He needed to make more contact with the outside world: once he'd done that, she'd always felt, he'd be better prepared to go further and actually date somebody, and there was still time for that.

So although it was a relief to find that there was a specific reason why he hadn't been interested in dating, which perhaps partly explained his almost relentlessly isolationist attitude, it didn't at all change her view that he needed more outlets. She hadn't changed that view when he had almost miraculously developed his friendship with Jane Lane. She knew it was an important friendship, and she was glad for Sonny, but it seemed to reinforce his isolationism more than not.

And he certainly shouldn't be spending the whole of the school vacation sleeping in until one in the afternoon every day, and not emerging from his seclusion until the evening.

So when Sonny's teacher Timothy O'Neill rang the house looking for counselors for his summer day camp, she had no hesitation giving him Sonny's name, despite her general reservations about the man. He hesitated. Of course he'd rather have had Quinn. Pretty much everybody would rather have Quinn than Sonny. Helen, knowing both of them intimately and feeling parental responsibility for the way they turned out, did not herself share the feeling, but she understood it. But she had already decided that since Quinn had unexpectedly suggested the idea of a tutor, she was not going to let anything else get in the way of that.

If O'Neill couldn't get Quinn, she suspected, he would still rather not have Sonny. Sonny was probably right about the connection between him and that Barch woman, with her vendetta against Sonny.

He protested again about being locked up with that man O'Neill and 'a busload of whiny kids'. He still claimed he was tutoring some one but wouldn't give the name.

As he continued to protest she put her foot down. 'Sonny', she said, 'you need to be more tolerant. You know what they say. "Judge and be judged." '

'And I judge myself unfit for human contact.'

'That's exactly what you will be if you don't start engaging with the rest of us. You keep hiding your real face behind that anti-social mask and one day the mask will be your face. I'm not letting that happen. You're working at that camp.'

As she left the room she heard behind her his flat-voiced protest continue: 'What about my feelings? What about my rights?' and then, as she shut the door, 'What about my bribe?'

No bribe this time, Sonny, she thought. I'm not paying you to grow up. Despite everything, I think you're finally ready to do it for your own sake.

It wasn't exactly the best feeling she'd ever had. But they'd both made their beds, and now they both had to lie in them.


On the bus to Mr O'Neill's 'Okay to Cry Corral' (Sonny's teeth stung every time he thought of the name), Sonny would have thought that Mr DeMartino wanted to be there even less than he did. He just wasn't sure that was possible. Maybe DeMartino was less skilled at concealing it. That thought, as well as the children surrounding him, reminded Sonny of his own experiences of elementary and middle schools. He had acute memories even without the extensive notes he still kept on file.

Stacy seemed happy about the experience. And had been right, no other girls had volunteered. She brought a history book with her so they could work on American history. Stuff they had been teaching since first grade seemed new and different to her.

With his own personal reflections on the history of America, it probably was. "All men, just men, white men, with money, are created equal. Every one else is second or third class or property."

"Huh?"

He was going to make a sarcastic comment but was supposed to be tutoring her so tried a real answer. "When they said all men are created equal, they only meant rich white men. Women couldn't vote, neither could blacks or other minorities. Blacks were property in most of the states at the time. Women wouldn't gain the right to vote until the early 20th century."

"Isn't that this century?" Sonny nods. "Wow."

O'Neill was leading his little victims in a bowdlerized version of 'This Old Man': 'With a nick-nack, gentle pat, give the dog a bone, This young person helps out at home.' When he tried to get the 'counselors' (Sonny, Stacy, and DeMartino) to sing a verse with him, he received a barren response.

The omens were no better when they arrived at the 'corral' (surely the appropriateness of the word was inadvertent on O'Neill's part). 'Uncle Timothy' (as he depressingly described himself—who'd want that in their family tree) introduced himself, and his plans for a journey together to a land of self-discovery where it was okay to laugh and okay to cry. Sonny wondered whether 'Uncle Timothy' would think it 'okay to cry' for somebody getting beaten up by a juvenile goon a head taller.

All he knew was that it never helped, which was why he wasn't crying at what he heard O'Neill say—not even when he invited Sonny, Stacy, and 'Uncle Anthony' to say a few words about their goals.

'My goal', Sonny said, 'is to avoid serious injury. I already know what it's like to get beaten up by a middle-school bully, so the experience would lack the charm of novelty.' He turned to DeMartino to signal him to have his say.

'I'm hoping to rediscover the joys and satisfactions of teaching, and the motives that led me to pursue such a thankless … I mean, rewarding profession in the first place. At least that's what my doctor says I need to do before I incur a cerebral haemorrhage!'

O'Neill assumed his accustomed posture for 'taken aback' and chuckled nervously. He explained that he'd been referring to goals for the campers.

DeMartino pulled out an index card and read from it. 'To help make this a pleasurable experience for all. Let's learn to love ourselves together.'

Sonny said, 'I don't want any of the campers to get beaten up either.'

Stacy stood up next. "I'm here to give the girls a role model!"

After a slight pause, O'Neill chuckled nervously again, and then divided them all into groups. Sonny went up to the table where his group was sitting and asked them whether they had anything to say before getting started. Some of them asked him personal questions about his appearance and demeanor—another experience without the charm of novelty. Instead of answering, he singled out a boy at the end who had folded his arms on the table and then buried his head in them—possibly some sort of kindred spirit.

'Um, how about you? Would you like to say anything?'

The boy raised his head, black-haired and bespectacled, as if the hinge in his neck needed oiling. When he spoke, his voice gave a similar impression.

'Is it fall yet?'


Jane's first introduction to the art colony had not been comfortable. She seemed to be the youngest person there—probably the only high-schooler there—and she had a feeling that the people she had met didn't take her seriously as a result. Or perhaps, although it wasn't what she wanted to be true, they were a bunch of posers who didn't take her seriously because she didn't know how to pose. She couldn't help wishing she could hear what Sonny would have said about them, although she pushed the thought away.

It didn't help that people seemed to be genuine about admiring Daniel Dotson, the guest artist and—as far as Jane could see—poser-in-chief. They even laughed at his jokes as he lectured them about a pathetic piece of conceptual art he had produced. When he asked them rhetorically about the thoughts that lay behind it, she couldn't stop herself from muttering some words to put in his mouth: 'I can't believe I'm getting away with this'. When somebody else in the audience (Paris, one of the women sharing Jane's cabin) responded to Dotson by shamelessly kissing up, calling him 'the greatest living artist of our time', Jane muttered another wisecrack about the lack of taste the woman was exhibiting. Sonny wasn't there to appreciate, but the young woman sitting next to Jane, who looked a little like Bif Naked, threw her a conspiratorial smirk. When another admirer asked Dotson where he got his inspiration, Jane's neighbor muttered, 'My alimony bills'. She and Jane shared a look of mutual understanding. They frowned in unison at the man's own response to the question about inspiration, a response which needed no comment beyond his own supposed-to-be-mock-modest conclusion: 'that's enough of the old windbag's ramblings for today'. Then, as the group broke up, the two of them exchanged introductions and Alison (that was her name) said, 'Our Mr. Dotson's really something, isn't he?'

'Well', said Jane, 'he certainly doesn't let substance get in the way of self-congratulatory yap.'

'At least we'll never have to worry about him intimidating us with his talent.'

Jane smiled, just a little, but for the first time since her arrival.


Stacy said to Sonny, 'Maybe you should get some of that for the little campers.' They were on the bus as they passed a billboard for ritalin control. It showed rats getting in to it with the tag line "Protect Your Pills, Buy Safety Lock Pill Box!"

Sonny gave the suggestion the consideration it deserved. 'Ritalin, or the rats?' he said.

Further discussion was forestalled by O'Neil trying to talk with them. "I'm so happy to have two young volunteers!"

Sonny mumbled about how he didn't volunteer but Stacy gave a more pleasant response. "I thought the girls could use some one. Can't let all the boys run around."

"That's the spirit! And to see some one so smart come and help out is great too, Sonny. I'm sure there are a few kids here who are just like you."

Miserable? Here against their will? Wishing you'd shut the hell up? Wishing they were back home in front of the television?


Sonny wanted to be put out of his suffering at the 'Okay To Cry Corral', but there the feeling was shared by everybody else bar two. O'Neill resisted the campers' clamor to swim in the lake, not despite the heat, but because of it, on the grounds of risking exposure to algal blooms. He insisted that they continued working on the construction of a craft project, encouraging them to attach sappy symbolic significance to the differently colored lanyards.

Stacy pouted about not being able to swim, "I wore my suit and every thing after I saw the lake." But she was still in a good mood overall.

A tragically ensnared DeMartino haplessly tried to follow O'Neill's example, but the only significant things he could think of to symbolism were failure, indignities, and frustration.

Sonny said, 'So continue threading the blue with the green until you've finished', adding, with a frankness born of indifference, 'or can't take the tedium any more.' Then he picked up his book and left them to it. Surprisingly, Link—the boy with the glasses, the one waiting for fall—was the first to get up and come over to him.

'Hey, Link', he said, 'need some help?'

'Nope. All done.' The boy dumped his finished product on the table in front of Sonny and slouched away. The thing looked like a rats' nest.


'It's been a lovely evening', Sonny lied to Stacy, 'but I think I'm ready to go home now.' It wasn't that he minded being with Stacy, but the library was closing.

Sonny had to give her directions to the library. The one place none of the other students would ever see them hanging out together. Stacy said she wouldn't mind but he could tell some thing was bothering her. "What else could it be but being worried about being seen with me?" So the library was the most logical place.

"You could come to my house. We're like, right in the middle of this chapter. War of 1812 is like the exact same thing as the first one but different. I didn't know they burnt the White House down."

"Partially. A freak storm hit and the rain put it out as a tornado scared the rest of the Canadians, not actually British, soldiers away."

"I never knew Canada ever attacked us either!"

"They were part of the British Empire at the time and we had also attacked them."

"Wow." Stacy looks at the book she had checked out. "Can we keep going?"

"Are you sure you want to risk me being seen at your house?"

"It's fine! You're my tutor and camp buddy."

Sonny had never been a camp buddy. Even after years of going to summer camp. "Ok, I guess. To leave off in the middle of the battle of Lake Erie would leave me on edge too." He rolls his eyes as they leave.

Alison had persuaded Jane, against Jane's better judgement, to leave her room for one meal so that she could mingle with her 'fellow artists'. Alison insisted that they'd warm up to Jane if given a chance.

Jane inquired whether they were conversing across parallel dimensions.

Alison said, 'I'll bet you dinner I'm right.'

'You're on, sucker.'

Alison took Jane to a table with Paris, another woman from Jane's cabin called Jet, and a man Jane didn't recognize. The others made no objection when Alison and Jane sat down with them. Alison asked them for their opinion of the colony.

Jet found it 'freeing'.

Paris praised Daniel Dotson for his brilliance in describing one of her works as 'a stroke of inspiration'.

The man at the table took the opportunity to make an unnecessary remark about the other kinds of strokes Paris and Dotson had explored together, and capped it by saying, 'Oh, well, I suppose genius does have its prerogatives.

Jane expressed a moderate skepticism about the applicability of the term 'genius' to Daniel Dotson.

'No offense, Jane', lied Paris, 'but aren't you still in high school? How much can you know about art at this point?'

'Excuse me?' said Jane, and thought of Sonny.

Alison rose to Jane's defence, pointing out that she'd been accepted to the program on the basis of a portfolio of work just like everybody else. Paris apologized more or less graciously, but then she gathered up her tablemates to make their farewells and leave.

'Gee, that was fun. But in the future', Jane said to Alison, 'let's save time and just roll around on gravel.'

'Sorry about that. I guess I owe you one.'

What guessing? 'You owe me dinner.'


As Sonny goes in to Stacy's room he finds several books he's read in her room. "Oh my god! Don't tell any one else. I was trying to read them since like, smart people do, and I understood some of them. The Fashion Club would kick me out if they knew!"

"Why do you care? None of them seem to like you very much." Sonny tries to bite his tongue but knew it was too late. Stacy wasn't Jane. They were two totally different people. One could handle the truth, the other probably couldn't.

"They do, in their own way."

"What way is that?" She can't answer. "If you didn't spend so much time with them maybe you wouldn't need a tutor. Maybe you wouldn't feel so stupid or fat or what ever else they fill your mind up with because they don't actually like you. I hate to tell you this but I know Sandi uses you as a floormat, Tiffany probably doesn't realize you're a member half the time, and my sister... I've never heard her say one nice thing about you. Ever." Stacy gets tears in her eyes and has the look of being crushed. A look he recognized from when he was younger and didn't have the years of practice at looking bored by every thing around him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"You mean you shouldn't have said the truth." She starts to cry and Sonny is super uncomfortable.

"Uh, there there." He pats her on the shoulder.

She hugs him and cries more. "You might be the first friend to ever actually be a friend."

"Uh... Sure."

She pulls away like she had been shocked. "My make up! I'll be right back." She runs out of the room to fix it.

When she comes back Sonny is flipping through a book she had. She sees the cover and comments. "Um, Poe seemed really depressed. It made me feel like, um, me."

"That is actually very insightful. You have a brain Stacy. I get the Fashion Club frowns on that but you are a lot smarter than you let on. I'm not saying quit the club but maybe spend less time with them?

"Spend more time with you? Even if you mess up my makeup."

"I guess. Pizza?"

"Pizza! With cheese. I haven't had cheese on a pizza in forever!" Sonny is feeling uncomfortable and grabs the history book. "Back to tutoring?"

"Ok!"

If Sonny had been a nicer person, he would have gone to the trouble of getting more ear defenders for Mr DeMartino and Stacy. His own pair worked perfectly, so he had no idea what songs O'Neill was now leading on the bus, but he could see from DeMartino's expression that they weren't getting any less horrifying.

Things weren't getting any less horrifying when they got to the corral, either, where the cattle were developing more signs of cabin fever. Swimming already vetoed on account of algal blooms, now hiking was added to the proscribed list on account of poison ivy and ticks in the woods. There was no sign of such prospects scaring the children, but of course that made no difference to O'Neill.

(Sonny himself had no fond memories of outdoor activities from Camp Grizzly, but then, he had no fond memories of indoor activities from Camp Grizzly either.)

Reluctantly, the children continued the painting assignment they'd been given as a means of exploring the 'child within'. Only in the strange convolutions of the mind of 'Uncle Timothy' could it make sense to speak of a 'child within' when the subject actually was a child.

DeMartino had stopped to examine the work of Josh, whom Sonny had marked down at first sight as an ugly customer. He'd known more than enough Joshes over the years—of course with that type, as far as Sonny was concerned, one was more than enough. In answer to DeMartino's question, Josh explained that he'd painted a football player because football players, everybody knew, were winners.

'I see', said DeMartino, his inflamed eyeball doing a rumba. 'Obviously, your definition of a winner is a degenerate slacker with pigskin for brains, an unshakable desire to sleep through class, and a lifetime goal of excelling at arm noise contests while never, ever doing any honest work of any kind! Is that right?'

For once the truth of a hoary chestnut was seen: DeMartino stood up to the bully and the bully ran away. In tears, no less. Of course, that was no evidence the same technique would have been effective if employed by somebody the size Josh would choose to pick on.

O'Neill and DeMartino lacked the insight to realize this was the best thing that could have happened to Josh, and initially both were alarmed.

'I'm no good at working with young people!' DeMartino said. 'Why, oh, why did I ever think I could?'

The children, unlike the adults, were well aware of who was the worst bully at camp, and spontaneously began cheering for 'Uncle Anthony', who was so overwhelmed he could barely thank them.

Although Sonny had been interested to observe all this from the corner of his eye, he was still more concerned with Link, whose 'child within' had painted a dark figure crouched in the rain by a leafless tree. It was good art, though. It reminded him of Jane. Maybe she would have known what to say to Link.

Sonny kept brooding intermittently about Link for the rest of the day. That evening in his room his thoughts had him repeatedly looking up from his book and losing his place, so the phone call from Stacy was no real interruption. But Sonny wasn't in the mood to tutor that night. He couldn't even be bothered coming up with a good excuse.

Stacy offered to come round with soup and goldfish crackers, 'or real goldfish, if you prefer', but Sonny turned him down.

Stacy dropped the light tone of voice. She was worried that things were not right with Sonny.

'I'm fine. I just don't want to get any one else sick. Why I avoided sitting next to you on the bus." That and after what happened in your room... "I'm sure I'll feel better in a day or two." When they hung up he was still thinking about Link.

Link reminded him of himself. Had Link learned yet how to deal with bullies? Did he wrap himself up in charts and figures like Sonny did? Or would he turn in to a bully himself?

Although Sonny wasn't sure what to do about Link, O'Neill was. Sure but, inevitably, wrong. He had noticed, unsurprisingly, that Link wasn't enjoying himself, and had fixed on a course of action: have a one-to-one chat with Link and make things worse. Sonny didn't believe anybody could feel better after a one-to-one chat with 'Uncle Timothy'. Not even Ms Barch? No, not even Barch. They probably didn't spend their time together chatting. He shuddered.

He still wasn't sure what to do about the situation when Link came out of O'Neill's office making headlong for the exit from the corral, but he headed to intercept him anyway, leaving his other charges to keep up the 'good work'. 'Hey', he said, feeling almost as ineffectual as O'Neill, 'everything okay?'

At least he got a reaction. Link was still steaming. Perhaps he'd even told O'Neill off, not that that ever did any good.

'How can you stand this place?'

Sonny processed the question rapidly. 'I didn't know I did.'

Link gave the smart remark no response but a contemptuous stare.

Sonny said, 'I'm here under duress as much as you. I may be a guard instead of a prisoner, but I can't cut short your sentence—or my own. All I can do is give you a pass out on compassionate grounds. Want to go for a walk?'

'Outside? That would be dangerous.'

'Not as dangerous as keeping you in the same building as "Uncle Timothy" any longer without a break. A one-to-one chat with him is grounds for a compassionate pass for anybody. And I'll be with you. But there'll be no more talking. We'll go for two completely separate silent solitary walks, only in the same place.'

He opened the door and cocked his head at Link, who silently accepted his offer by walking out and looking back for Sonny to follow him.

Despite this sign of possible progress, Sonny still felt unsettled about the whole Link situation, although when they returned from their walk 'Uncle Timothy' gave them a highly anxious look (which was just gorgeous). And Sonny still felt unsettled about Stacy.

Jane was right, he needed more than one friend. Was Stacy really going to be that one new friend? She was smarter than she ever let on but that didn't mean much when she never let on at all. After he stupidly decided to be honest with her and she cried and hugged him he felt uncomfortable about being around her.

He also was curious as to why she suddenly decided to need tutoring or started caring about art films and bettering herself. He might have asked before but after what happened in her room...


Alison had settled her bet with Jane without quibble, and after the dinner she'd bought for the two of them they'd gone back to Alison's cabin to look at some of her art. Jane could see it was good, too, no matter what the galleries thought.

They were having a good enough time that when Jane wanted to call it a night Alison pressed her to stay. But Jane was exhausted and started to leave.

Alison took Jane's arm and held her back. She suggested that given the amount of wine Jane had drunk she really ought to lie down.

'No, really, I'm fine', Jane said, and she really was—until Alison put her other arm around her and said, 'I promise not to kick you out of bed in the morning. Well, unless you're snoring.'

Jane violently shrugged off Alison's arms and stepped back. 'Oh, what now!' she said. 'Am I jinxed or something?'

Alison was taken aback by the force of this reaction, and Jane felt a little embarrassed. Up till now Alison had been nothing but nice to her, and it wasn't fair to get angry for what could be no more than an honest mistake, still less for events in Jane's past that Alison had nothing to do with. She tried to get her cool back and keep it, but she also stood her ground. The problem was the calm conviction with which Alison carried on as if she knew more about Jane's sexuality than Jane herself did. This might be the first time that Jane herself had been propositioned by somebody of the same sex, but it wasn't exactly the first time she'd had to deal with the whole issue personally. But the more Jane insisted that she knew she was exclusively heterosexual, the more Alison challenged her. She seemed to think it meant something that Jane had let a bisexual buy her dinner and then gone back to her bedroom with her.

'I didn't know you were bi', Jane said. 'And the dinner thing was settling a bet.'

'Sure … settling a bet. I'm sorry, baby, but I never hit on straight chicks.'

It was the 'baby' that did it.

'Right', said Jane, 'I'm a baby. I don't have the experience to know myself. Do you want to hear about my experience? Do you want to hear how I know myself? I've dated a guy all year. A guy, because I'm only interested in guys, because I'm straight. And you know how we broke up? He went behind my back with my best friend telling my best friend that he was going to break up with me. My friend, my best friend, didn't tell me. I get blindsided by it all. It made me look back and admit that the guy I had dated for a year was just a taller richer version of my best friend. After all this I tell him, my best friend, how I felt, and we decide to think about it. Then he starts seeing another girl! He says she is just a friend, not even that, but what the hell? So I run to this art colony where every one sucks ass but you and then you, you, gah!"

Alison took a step back and raised her palms towards Jane. 'I'm sorry', she said, looking into Jane's eyes, and then dropped her gaze.

'Yeah, well, you should be. And maybe some other people should be as well.' Jane shut the door firmly behind her and started jogging back towards her own cabin, her fists carving the air and her feet gouging the ground.


O'Neill had everybody sitting in a circle so that he could ask them to hold hands and visualize 'trust'. The children still wanted to go outside, and when O'Neill wouldn't consider it, they appealed to 'Uncle Anthony' to intervene. He made a valiant effort, but with no greater success than theirs. At that precise moment, an alarm beeped to remind O'Neill to take his echinacea. As he left the room for it, he again asked them to hold hands.

When DeMartino followed this instruction, his hands acquired from his neighbors' a coating of peanut butter. The dam burst. Ranting in fury, he rose to his full height, grasped the nearest heavy object—which happened to be a washbasin—ripped it free, and hurled it through a large plate-glass window. 'I'm going on a hike!' he shouted, and climbed to freedom, followed by an eager procession of cheering campers.

"Wait!" Stacy didn't want to leave the kids with DeMartino as he didn't seem to be in the best of minds.

Only Link was left behind with Sonny.

'Come on', Sonny said to him. 'Even I'll admit that was mildly amusing.'

'Whatever.'

Sonny looked at Link and remembered when he was about the same age.

'Sixth grade was the worst year for me', he said. 'I remember one week when I got beaten up eleven times. That's only talking about the actual physical violence, though. There's also hiding my glasses or my backpack, breaking my things or just stealing them, spoiling my food, tying my shoelaces together, phony messages from teachers about errands to run and other tricks like that … add it all together and third grade was the worst year. It got less every year after that. And the actual beatings got fewer every year after sixth grade. In fact, the last time was nine months ago, which still pretty much amazes me.'

'And now your life is one big bowl of cherries.'

'No, it still pretty much sucks a lot of the time. But school pretty much sucks for everybody.'

Link pulled a face. 'And did your mother throw your father out for being a jerk and then marry an even bigger jerk? And do your parents pay other people to deal with you because they're too busy "listening to their souls"?'

'No', Sonny said. 'My parents are still together, which I suppose I should be grateful for. Although if they did split up, maybe I'd get to live with one of them and my sister would go with the other. Do you have a sister who's the most popular girl in the school and doesn't want anybody to know you're related because it might harm her status?'

Link shook his head.

'Did you ever get beaten up eleven times in one week?'

Link made no response. Then he pointed and said, 'What's the book you're reading?'

Sonny picked it up and held it out to Link. 'Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka. You might like Kafka. What sort of things do you read?'

At that precise moment, O'Neill came back into the room. 'Oh!' he said. 'A little one-on-one session! That's … uh … of course it's good to "rap", right? But … not that I want to suggest anything in any way improper, or disrespect anybody's rights, but'—and here he paused again and laughed nervously—'maybe, Sonny, we should be thinking how our behaviour might be seen and interpreted by other people, people who have their own perspective, which we have to respect, even if some might consider it not as broad-minded …'

Before O'Neill could ramble on any further, three strangers came into the room, strangers impressive for their formal attire and severe demeanor, which immediately discouraged continuation of previous conversations.

To O'Neill's complete and final discomposure, they were Federal agents come to arrest him.

When they'd completed the necessary legal routine, two of them took O'Neill outside. The third and apparently most senior lingered to address Sonny.

'Jacob Morgendorffer, Junior?' he said.

'Yes, but everybody calls me Sonny.'

'Well, Sonny, thanks again for your tip-off. We picked up the Barch woman this morning as well, and we think we've got all the evidence we need against both of them, but we'll be in touch to let you know. In the meantime, about this day camp—is there a responsible adult to take charge?'

'There's an adult', Sonny said. 'Mr Anthony DeMartino, he's a history teacher at Lawndale High. He took all the other kids out on a hike just before you got here.'

'That's good to know. I was ready to make any necessary arrangements with appropriate agencies, but if I can rely on this Mr DeMartino, I can get back to more important things. Only … do you know when he'll be back? There are often regulations about supervisory ratios for children in situations like this.'

'I think I know somebody who'd be more than happy to come and take Mr O'Neill's place. If it would set your mind at rest, would you like to wait just a few minutes while I make a phone call?'

The agent followed Sonny into the office and waited while he located the correct number and made the call.

'Ms Onepu?' Sonny paused for a moment to listen. 'Ms Onepu, this is Sonny Morgendorffer. There's a Federal agent here who'd like to talk to you about the welfare of some children.' He handed the receiver to the man.

As the telephone conversation continued—Sonny sensed Onepu's torrent of language was having a predictable effect on her interlocutor—Link got Sonny's attention, lowered his voice, and said, 'Did you just get "Uncle Timothy" arrested?'

'I think you can stop calling O'Neill "Uncle" in the circumstances. And you were here when he got arrested and saw for yourself', Sonny said flatly.

'And they said you tipped them off', Link hissed.

'All right', Sonny said. He looked round to make sure the Federal agent wasn't overhearing him. 'I bugged his phone. Can we please not talk about this? Don't make me beg, it would humiliate both of us.'

Link shook his head. 'Wow', was all he said.

The senior Federal agent, whose name Sonny had never got, finished his phone call at just that point, and made a welcome interruption.

'Your Ms Onepu will be here shortly. Is everything under control until then?'

Sonny nodded and the man silently shook his hand, returned his nod, and left. Sonny and Link went back out of the office into the activities room and sat down.

After a moment, Link asked Sonny to explain what O'Neill had been making such a fuss about just before they came to arrest him.

'Oh, that', Sonny said. 'He would have been worried about getting in trouble for letting me spend so much time alone with you. I'm not exactly the most popular, or nicest, or socially adept, or any thing that others would see as positive. Except for my brain.'

"Yet here you are."

"My mother volunteered me against my will."

"At least you got to hang out with your girlfriend."

Sonny sighs. "She's not my girlfriend. I'm tutoring her and that's it."

Link glares. "Don't think I'm stupid just because I'm a kid. I've seen the way she looks at you. The way you two sit on the bus."

"Just tutoring her." I think. Even I noticed... Link shrugs his shoulders and walks away.


Thinking she'd found a friend and then finding she hadn't made things even worse for Jane than they were to begin with. Maybe Daniel Dotson was no worse than before because of her disappointment, but she felt it more. She could feel it coming out in her paintings.

The colony was a small place, and inevitably she and Alison had to chance across each other again. They exchanged wary greetings.

'Look, I gotta be honest', Jane said. 'All that stuff I said to you … maybe you didn't deserve to be blamed for stuff you had nothing to do with.'

'Basically you were right, though', Alison said. 'I shouldn't have tried to tell you who you were. Maybe I was hoping a little too hard and saw something that wasn't there.'

'So you hit on a straight chick after all. I guess now you know what that's like.'

'First time for everything. Still want to be friends?'

Jane shrugged, and then nodded, but when Alison stepped forward to hug her, Jane stepped back. Alison dropped her arms and looked awkward.

Jane tried to change the subject by warning Alison of the approach of Daniel Dotson, who was just then coming towards them. but the way he and Alison spoke to each other made it look as if the meeting was expected, and the way he pinched her bottom before going to wait for her in his car sent an even clearer message.

Jane was incredulous, and reminded Alison of the damning things she'd said about Dotson before, but Alison only protested that all she was looking for was a little fun.

Jane suggested that the possibility of a few introductions to gallery owners might have been an additional attraction. She was starting to suspect how the art world really worked.

'God', said Alison, 'high school. It's all such a big deal with you guys. You take everything so seriously.' She walked away from Jane, this time for good.

Jane answered the empty air. 'Like people saying you give off gay vibes just because they're trying to get into your pants.'


The campers at the 'Okay To Cry Corral' were happy about the way 'Uncle Anthony' ran it after the removal of 'Uncle Timothy' (missed by nobody). DeMartino had been elevated by what was, candidly, little short of adulation: he had rediscovered the hunger to enlighten which had first made him want to be a teacher. Onepu had exhibited some of her usual anxieties about risks to the children, which had gained her no friends, but she had quickly been won over by DeMartino's new-found confidence and the unmistakable delight of the campers. And Sonny was not in the least surprised by the steadfast way Link cold-shouldered him up to the very last day.

Of course, it marked that summer was coming to an end. It meant Jane would eventually be home. He tried to keep that off his mind but was failing. Jane was his best friend. His only friend. Would he risk some thing that important because she, and he... He didn't think he could risk it. He liked Jane, a lot, as a friend. If they broke up and stopped being friends he'd be devastated.

To his relief (what? his what?), Quinn interrupted him, entering the room without even knocking—and even that didn't provoke him into a cutting remark. Her excuse was that she was returning a book to him, but like most of her excuses it wasn't much good—the book didn't come from him but from her tutor. As if Quinn would ever forget which male had given her something, even if only as a temporary loan. So what was the real reason Quinn had come into his room? Why, to open up a conversation about that very same tutor. Not the most skillful maneuver, but not too bad for a tyro.

Why would Quinn think Sonny's opinion of the man was worth having, though? Sonny had only met him briefly. Anybody who was persevering with tutoring Quinn must have an unusual ability to tolerate pain, that was all Sonny could say.

Quinn wanted to know whether Sonny thought the tutor was 'cute'.

'Quinn, what?' Sonny stood up. 'Why would you ask me that?'

"Stacy said you're gay so I thought you might think he was cute."

Sonny is taken aback. Did Stacy really think he was gay? Or was it a cover for them hanging out together? He'd have to ask her later. Until then... "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'd have the same tastes as some one like you."

Quinn seemed to be starting to get the point. Sonny went on to mention some of the other things, apart from appearance, that could contribute to a successful relationship, compatible qualities of character and personality.

Quinn interrupted. 'Like you?'

Sonny was irritated. He hadn't been talking himself, and he didn't want to talk about that. But Quinn insisted that he was dateable if he was gay.

'Quinn, this is what we've been talking about. Just because you and I are both attracted to boys doesn't mean we're attracted to the same ones or in the same way. Don't start telling me you know this stuff about me.'

'Gay or straight, Sonny, it's still dating, and that's been my major field of study for years.'

'Maybe', Sonny said. He scratched behind his ear. 'Why did Stacy tell you?'

'Sandi had to drag her brothers to the library and saw you two together. Sandi asked me and I didn't know why you two would be together. We asked Stacy and she said you were her gay BFF which is totally in fashion. I'm just glad Sandi didn't judge me about it. That would mean people could judge me by …' Quinn did a double-take. 'Got to go', she said, and left the room.

Sonny shook himself. He had to have somebody he could actually talk with. Not Stacy. He'd call her later. He picked up the phone and dialed.

As soon as Jane answered, he remembered how they'd parted and apologized for calling, but she sounded almost enthusiastic to hear him. Granted, enthusiasm came more naturally to her than to him, but still … He took the risk of asking her how things were going.

'Fine, fine, fine', she lied. 'Couldn't be better.'

'Sucks, huh?'

'Well, out of all the people here I did meet one who wasn't mind-numbingly pretentious, but she turned out to be a manipulative, opportunistic lech.'

The gender of the pronoun did not escape Sonny's attention. 'You're not kidding.'

'As much as I'd like to gain your sour perspective on the whole sordid incident, I don't think this is the way or the time to talk about it.'

'In that case, what if I did something like, oh, I don't know, dropped by for a friendly chat?'

'Look, I don't really feel like any visitors right now. It's nothing personal.'

Sonny took a deep breath. 'Not even a visitor who can give you the exclusive inside dope on how the Feds busted Mr O'Neill?'

There was a brief silence at the other end of the line before Jane answered. 'Okay, now you're the one who's not kidding.' She gave a brief snort of suppressed amusement before continuing. 'Trent was going to drop by on his way to a gig. Maybe you can hitch a ride. They can always use an extra person to push.'

It was not in Sonny's nature to punch the air in triumph.

Hanging out with Trent was okay, too (the rest of Mystik Spiral spent most of the trip dozing in the back of the Tank, which was probably just as well). Not so okay, perhaps, was the bit where Trent's pulling a chocolate bar out of his back pocket caused the Tank to start driving on both sides of the highway at once but even that was still a more relaxing experience than it might have sounded because he was sitting next to Trent. And Trent was the one person he could really talk to about what had been happening between himself and Jane. It hardly mattered that Trent had few actual words to contribute to the conversation.

As Trent and him talked about Jane he says he wanted to be just friends still. "I'm not surprised. I'm very in tune with vibes and didn't get that vibe from you. Why I never worried about you hanging out with my sister alone."

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

"But you do have a new vibe."

"Uh, maybe." Sonny tells Trent about Stacy and how weird it is for him because he isn't sure what it is. He and Jane became friends almost instantly but he and Stacy felt different.

"She isn't like you. You don't click. But you still like her and she still likes you." After a short pause, Trent starts singing Betrayal.

'Yeah. Thanks, Trent.' He ignored Trent as they neared the colony.

They left the rest of Mystik Spiral sleeping in the Tank and walked towards the cabin where Jane was staying. Trent gave Sonny some more reassurance that Jane would agree with his decision.

Trent knocked on the door and Jane opened it. He was glad to see her.

The three of them exchanged greetings, then went inside. Jane showed them around the cabin and they chatted briefly. Then Trent excused himself to go and wake up his bandmates.

Sonny told Jane the whole O'Neill story. Jane told Sonny the whole Alison story. Sonny told Jane the whole Link story, mentioning how Link's art had reminded him of Jane. Jane showed Sonny some of her recent paintings.

'Some day the curators will look back on these and say they're from my "art colonies suck" period.'

'Yeah', said Sonny, 'this is the kind of stuff Link painted.'

'This Link situation is really bothering you.'

Sonny nodded. 'Unlikely as it sounds, I thought there was a moment where I might get through to him. He was impressed about the O'Neill bust. He thought I treated him like a kid, an idiot, because I didn't agree with him about, something."

"What was it?"

Sonny takes a deep breath. "About Stacy. I, I have been saying I was just tutoring her. But one time, when I was in her room, nothing happened it just, felt different. I didn't think I was lying at the time but...'

Jane shook her head. 'Did you?"

"I don't know. Jane, I know I still have a couple more weeks until the deadline but..."

"But you want to stay just friends." He nods. "I can understand. Our friendship is important. Do we really need to muddle it with kissing?" He shrugs his shoulders ignoring the tone of her voice. "Look, why don't we go to the Mystik Spiral gig? The music will remind you that you already knew how ugly life can get.'

The venue, when they got there, had a similar effect. As they stood around chatting while they waited for the performance to begin. She prodded him about Stacy. "I don't know. I really don't. It is weird."

Jane's response was to make it clear that Sonny shouldn't expect any sympathy from her, given the past history. From that point, their discussion entered into a labyrinth of conflicting interpretations of that past history.

Sonny was never able afterwards to reconstruct in his head just what the sequence of utterances was, but they disagreed about who had hurt whose feelings when by doing what, and about which actions had had what significance, until his head was spinning.

'I'm confused', he said. 'What are we fighting about here?'

'We're fighting about you, Sonny Morgendorffer, being dumb enough to think a boyfriend or girlfriend is worth screwing up a really good friendship for. A really important friendship.'

Sonny wasn't sure that was what had happened, not exactly—but maybe it was. He had done the wrong thing to start with, he knew that, and he had hurt Jane by doing so, he'd never denied it, and everything that happened after that—well, maybe he had been as dumb as Jane said. He was the one who had risked screwing up a really good friendship over a boyfriend when Jane had started going out with Tom. He sure couldn't say he was an expert on what had happened. And supposing it possible he had been that dumb—and it was possible—well, then …

'I'm sorry if I did that.' It was the least he could say. Was it enough? 'Um', he continued, 'I really missed you this summer.'

'Well, I really missed you too', said Jane. What Sonny had said had been enough. 'And I'm sorry about what happened with Link. That really sucks.'

'I'm sorry about what happened with Alison. That really sucks, too.' Especially, Sonny thought, on top of all that other stuff, but he decided it would be wiser not to say so. What they needed at this point was a distraction to change the subject—which providentially materialized in the form of Trent passing them on his way to the stage. They teamed up to tease him. It was good to be tandem again. Trent told them they were weird. That was good too.

When Trent had moved on, Jane asked Sonny to tell her what he had missed most about her. He told her that it was her 'damn aura'.

'My aura? When did you start talking like that? Are you trying to fill the gap that O'Neill's going to leave in our lives when he goes to the big house?'

'I don't know whether he'll end up actually doing time.' Sonny shrugged. 'But I guess he's not coming back to Lawndale High.'

'Yeah, it's strange to imagine.' Jane nodded thoughtfully. 'I almost feel like I'm going to miss him.'

'No you won't.'

'No, I won't.'

'But getting back to your question, I thought of you out here all summer, with your art and your humor, just being Jane Lane still, and I realized it's because you know exactly who you are, and that makes you exactly the role model that I needed this summer, when I was questioning everything I said and did.'

Jane grinned and nodded. 'You know, you're absolutely right about me.'

With a sudden electric rush, Sonny felt himself returning to normal. 'Shall I attempt further heights of ego-inflation?'

'Please do.'

Before he could, they were interrupted by a burst of feedback from the speakers, followed by Trent's voice saying, 'Hey. We're Mystik Spiral. And this one's for Sonny and Jane.'

Sonny wasn't thrilled by the idea of having a Mystik Spiral song dedicated to them. 'I hope it's not "I Will Survive" ', he said, with a fleeting glance at Jane.

'Oh, please make it "Wind Beneath My Wings" ', was Jane's response.

A moment later, the Mystik Spiral lyrics rolled over them, and although Sonny struggled to blot them out, he couldn't stop some of the words getting through: 'When [something something], when the bummers bum, we'll still be freakin' friends! When the whip comes down, [something something] freakin' friends! Freakin' friends! Freakin' friends! Till we come to bad ends, we're freakin' friends! Freakin' friends! [something something] …'

Sonny looked at Jane for a moment and caught her looking back at him. Truly, it was as Max the drummer had once said: 'You go up against the Spiral, they're going to take you down!'


Before the time had come for the Spiral's (and Sonny's) departure, the 'freakin' friends' had reached the point where Sonny and Jane shook hands. "Friends?"

"Friends." More importantly, Sonny could invite Jane to come back with them, and also not take it personally when Jane had what she herself admitted was some dumb notion of seeing the art colony program through to the end. 'Anyway', she pointed out, 'it's just another two weeks and then we'll be back at school!' She realized what she had said. 'Wait … what's my point?'

Sonny helped her out. 'That life sucks no matter what, so don't be fooled by location changes.'

'You really should write fortune cookies.'

They made their farewells, agreeing that Jane would call Sonny when she got back to Lawndale, and then Jane started back to her cabin only to stop and turn to say, 'Um, I don't believe I'm about to say this, but … you should give Stacy a shot. She's not a bad person. And you could use the recreation.'

'Um', said Sonny, feeling less bad about it because this time Jane had said it first, 'is this a final exam, just to see whether I'm still dumb enough to risk screwing up a really important friendship?'

'No. I don't play games like that.'

'Yeah, right.'

She gives him a look. "Glad to see you might finally join the human race after all."

"I don't race. Especially not against you. Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes. I had time to think and look at it with out you being thrown in my face. I dated a guy who was like you but not you. Heck, I was actually a little afraid you'd try and take him from me."

Sonny thinks of Stacy's story about him. He hadn't called and asked her about it yet. "You think I'm gay?" She shrugs her shoulders. "It would explain why I would never date you and why we are just friends. But I don't think so."

Jane smirks. "If I wanted to date you I'm sure I could have wriggled it out of you. But you're right. We're friends, just friends, and I wouldn't want to ruin that."

"Neither would I."

Jane made a cryptic gesture with one hand. 'I know I kind of said I was over it before, when actually I was still under it, but … you could give it some thought on the ride back. Talk with her, go slow, what ever. You don't date so don't look at it as dating. Look at it as hanging out with a girl who sees you as a boy and not just a friend. '

'I don't think so.'

'Or converse with the band.' Jane grinned. 'The choice is yours.'


The moment Sonny realized he was back to normal was when he was back in Lawndale, in his bedroom, reading, and Quinn made another uninvited unexplained entry. Without missing a beat, he told her that her sandals did not make her toes look fat.

Quinn wasn't back to normal, though. She took Sonny's remark as confirmation of something her tutor had said about her superficiality. Of course, it was true that Sonny's point had been that Quinn was shallow and superficial, but he'd been telling her that for about ten years and she'd never reacted the way she was reacting now. As far as Sonny could see, being shallow and superficial was just Quinn playing to her strengths. This time, though, Quinn seemed to be about to break down, just because some brainy egghead had told her that he only dated girls with 'depth'.

Sonny was puzzled. 'How did it even come up?'

Quinn didn't answer in words, but the evidence of seismic strain in her expression increased.

Sonny felt a blow from the clue stick. 'Oh, boy. You asked him out?'

Silent weeping.

Had Sonny had tears on his face, that day when Quinn found him on the couch and helped him out of it? He had no idea. Maybe he'd wept, maybe he hadn't.

'Quinn, I don't take back anything I've ever said to you about your shallowness, but it's not the whole truth about you. It's something you use, like Armor, or like a mask, so you can fit in, to protect yourself.'

'You mean, sort of like the way you keep people away to protect yourself by being really unfriendly and stuff?'

'Don't change the subject', Sonny said automatically, although he had to admit to himself that it wasn't a shallow or superficial thing to say. After a moment, he went on, 'You really liked him, huh?' Quinn nodded. 'Was it because of his looks?' Quinn pulled a face and shook her head. 'Well, then, if you could see past that—it means that mask you wear most of the time still isn't the face of the real Quinn.'

Quinn wiped away the tears. 'Thanks, Sonny.' She sniffed. 'Damn it, I even told him I liked him! I never do that!'

'Well, that wasn't a shallow or a superficial thing to do.' Sonny scratched behind his ear. 'Quinn, there was a boy at that stupid day camp I had to go to who was having a really rough time. His parents were jerks who didn't want to know him. I thought if maybe I could get talking with him it might help a little. And just when I thought I might be getting through to him, he decided he didn't want to know me at all.'

'Why?'

'Because...' He was about to mention the, whatever, between him and Stacy and stopped. "I'm gay."

'Oh.' Quinn winced.

'Sometimes people slap you in the face. But you have to keep reaching out to them. You have to give them a chance.'

Quinn sighed. 'I wish David had given me a chance.'

'The way I heard it, he did. Isn't that right? He was going to quit because you weren't paying attention to the tutoring, so you told him you'd apply yourself properly and he gave you another chance? And then you learned a bunch of stuff and found out you don't have to be a dummy if you don't want to.'

Quinn stood in silence digesting everything. Then she shook herself and looked at Sonny, noticing that he was watching her. 'Oh!' she said, 'I must look a mess! I have to go and clean up now.' She left the room hurriedly.

'How did I come up with all that crap?' Sonny said to the empty air. 'I have to be more careful about the people I listen to.'


Sonny called Stacy finally. "Sonny! How was the road trip?"

"Ok, I guess." He pauses for a second. "So, uh, you told Sandi and my sister I'm gay?"

"Oh, um, sorry. I panicked! I know you're ok and stuff but they don't and you helped me so much and I didn't mean to insult you or any thing but," Sonny cuts her off.

"It isn't an insult. It was quick thinking. If people think I'm gay and I'm your gay BFF then we can, um, hang out. Outside of the library or your house. If you wanted."

"I do." Stacy plays with her hair as they both sit in silence. "If you want to."

Sonny had thought and overthought it a thousand times. He had an answer finally. "I do."

Coming home from the first day of his senior year, he was sitting with the rest of his family for dinner. "Sonny, did you see the cute new sophomore? He transferred from like, Odenton or some thing. He is super hunky."

Helen tsks Quinn. "I don't think your brother would notice or care."

"Sure he would, he's gay."

Sonny drops his fork as his parents give him a look. He glares at Quinn for a second before waiting for his parent's response.

Helen simply says some thing along the lines of "Not a surprise. I'm happy you're accepting who you are."

Jake is all "That's my boy! Never afraid to say what he wants or be who he is!"

Sonny feels horrible because he has to explain to them what is going on.

He waits until after dinner and for Quinn to go up to her room before trying to set the record straight. "I'm not gay. Quinn's friend Stacy and I have been... Hanging out. I was tutoring her and didn't want Quinn or the rest of her fashion fiends to know. We still want to hang out even when not studying but since I, being the social pariah, must not be seen with her in public. Unless she has a good cover story. Like me being her gay BFF. I went with it since it would make it easier on her."

Jake is now happy to hear he has a girlfriend, "Ahem," sorry, a female friend that might be more. Helen apologizes for assuming he was gay. "Jane thought I was too. No big deal." He sees the looks on their faces. "I was surprised by the support you showed. I, if I was gay, I know you'd still love me."

"Of course we would Sonny! You're our kid!" Jake pats him on the arm.

Sonny is unsure of what else to say so he goes to the stairs and up the stairs.

Helen turns to Jake. "I guess I was wrong." She looks at the stairs. "I'm glad you didn't freak out."

"He's my son, I support him, no matter what." The two hold each other. "He's a great kid."

Helen leans her head on his shoulder. "He is. If only I could figure out what the hell went wrong with Quinn." She pulls away. "I, I can't believe I said that."

Jake smiles. "Said what?"

She smiles back and kisses him. "You're a great husband and father."

"I have a great wife to help me." They hold on to each other for a few more seconds before clearing the table.

Some dialogue from 'Through A Lens Darkly' by Glenn Eichler, 'Speedtrapped' by Sam Johnson and Chris Marcil, and 'Is It Fall Yet?' by Glenn Eichler and Peggy Nicoll

A/N Ok, a lot lot lot more to fix. But love the ending, Helen's "Oh Crap did I just say that?" Moment. Now that I have the majority of the things I wanted to do/write done... IDK if I will continue. I know a fanfic of a fanfic is different but I had these ideas and HAD to write them down. Again, The Other J-D was awesome enough to give me permission! Hope you enjoy his series, and this, and review if you have the time!