A/N: Still not doing regular updates. But since I've seen a bit of a spike in my hits recently, I felt happy enough to put up the next chapter. Also, seeing that my ideas for my remaining chapters are set in stone I feel safe to put this up. This chapter is a combination of multiple chapters since I felt each chapter was really, really short... so you'll be getting a little bit of Fletcher, Olive and Chyna in this one as a result.

Chapter 4

The next day started off pretty much like any other school day for Fletcher. He got up for school after three snooze buttons. The shower at home was cold, like Alaska cold – because the plumbing was on the fritz again. He spent about ten minutes hunting for his Pop Tarts only to realize it was already in his bag – and his dad's 1987 Cherry Red Volkswagon just wouldn't stop making its cha-chugging noise all the way to school.

All that, was pretty normal fare in the day of the life of one Fletcher Quimby.

However, what wasn't so normal was that Janice Takahashi, his girlfriend, had been MIA all morning. Well, not all morning – he did catch a glimpse of her the one time before free period. She'd caught eyes with him, then burst around the corner like a skittish deer, leaving him in the middle of the hallway confused.

All free period, he tried sending her texts:

What's up? Text me back – Fletcher.

Hadn't seen you all morning. Text me back – Fletcher

You're acting really weird. Please, please text me back. –Fletcher

He'd sent her several more similar messages, with no reply.

This all was pretty strange to him –

For as long as he'd been going out with Janice, she'd always been prompt with her text replies. She would even text him back right before starting a swim meet, when she wasn't supposed to.

Focus on the task at hand, she was always told.

So naturally, he arrived at one conclusion –

She was definitely avoiding him. The only question now, was why.

By the end of free period, he checked his inbox one more time –

Still no reply.

He resolved to seek her out right after free period, and confront her no matter what.

Fletcher found Janice easily enough. Right after free period, he'd marched straight to her locker on the 2nd floor – where he knew she'd be to get her books for English. She was in the middle of grabbing the book from her locker when he spotted her.

She looked completely spooked when they met eyes. She hurriedly zipped her bag closed and scurried off in the other direction, away from where English class was supposed to be –

Fletcher took off in a jog to head her off, before running smack dab into a very tall and wide upperclassman in a bad looking button-down and glasses. The impact smarted so much but he managed to ignore it -

He rushed off again, and managed to block Janice from turning the corner. He knocked into three girls in the process, one of whom fell off her feet -

"Ok, ok ok. What's going on here?" He asked, once he finally cornered Janice.

He studied Janice's face. Gone was that cool, composed façade she'd always trotted around school. She looked very nervous, and she couldn't really look at his face –

"Are you all right?" Were the first words he'd thought to say.

"I-I'm fine," Janice said. "Why wouldn't I be?" She looked so pink in the face. She made to go around him –

Fletcher simply side - stepped, easily blocking her way again.

"No. No you're not. You've been avoiding me all morning, which you never do, and you didn't answer my texts, which you never do. Something's up. Can you please tell me? You know me, I tend to overthink things, a lot. If you don't tell me soon, I'm going to wrack my head until I make up a scenario that makes sense. For example, maybe you want to tell me that you're going to move away – or that you suddenly hate my guts, and found another guy that you like better than you liked me – wait, is it Angus?" Fletcher was absolutely horrified at the idea.

Janice's response was completely unexpected. Her almond shaped eyes widened in complete disbelief – and her tan face darkened as she burst into spazzing fits of laughter.

Janice's mirth was contagious. Soon he found himself relaxing. He wanted to laugh as well-

"I'm completely wrong, am I? Way off base."

Janice nodded, her face still bubbling in hardly concealed amusement.

"So I didn't do anything – you're not mad at me at all?"

Janice shook her head.

"And you still very much, really like me?"

Janice nodded once more, this time breaking out into a wide smile.

"And you're not moving away?"

Janice's smiled remained firmly in place. "Yes!"

"Well, ok then! So whatever it is you need to tell me, it can't be that bad!" He said, smiling.

Janice at this point, looked very much like herself again – confident, composed. She smirked at him, with mischievous eyes, "Yes, I suppose not."

"So tell me then! I can't take it!" He complained like a five year old.

Janice laughed. "Ok, ok. Remember that swim meet I have in New York coming up?"

"Of course. You wouldn't stop talking about it for a whole week."

"Yes. Well – how would you like to go with me?"

Fletcher was completely taken by surprise. "Um – yea – sure! I'd just need to ask my parents first." He found himself answering. "That was what this morning was about?"

Janice nodded, looking a little guilty for the trouble she'd caused.

"I don't get it. Why avoid me instead of just coming out and ask?" Fletcher was genuinely curious.

"I – it's nothing."

Fletcher took Janice by the hands. He rubbed the back of it with his thumbs. "C'mon. It's me you're talking to."

"Promise not to laugh at me?"

"Have you ever known me to laugh at you when you're being serious?" He asked honestly.

Janice shook her head no.

"Ok – so…"

He encouraged her to go on.

"I was really nervous, ok? You're this first boy I really, really liked and to ask you to go on a trip with me is a really big deal. I uhh, promised myself that the next time I saw you, I was going to ask you. But then when I saw you this morning I had cold feet and I wanted to back out, or at least take a time out. At least, until I gathered enough nerves to ask you without looking like an idiot - "

Fletcher broke his promise; he couldn't help but laugh –

Janice's uncharacteristically bashful face grew stern. "Hey! You promised not to laugh!"

Fletcher stopped laughing, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – it's just, you're normally this super confident girl. Knowing that I can actually make you feel nervous – well, I think it's kinda cool."

Janice playfully slapped him on the arm. "Don't get too used to it, Romeo."

"Finally, a moment of peace and quiet!"

"I agree," Olive said. She closed her eyes as she slumped down on a recliner at the Ant Farm. She turned her head to find Chyna prone on the extra – long futon right behind her, dead to the world - not moving even a little bit. Her long, dark hair obscured her face; Olive giggled, she had this perfect image of Chyna drooling behind all that hair.

It was free period – and the second to last of the day. Olive and Chyna had figured that they were due a little rest before heading to Math class. Olive took about a minute to take a breath and relax before she whipped out her math book from her back pack –

"Chyna's sleeping again?" A voice asked.

Olive looked up from her math book to find Angus smiling at her, sitting at his customary seat by the computer.

"Oh hey, Angus!" She beamed at him.

"Hey," was all Angus said in return back, before he spun on his chair and went to work on his computer.

Olive's smile slipped off her face. She felt a little annoyed. Just – hey? That was all he had to say? No - how's your day been? What you been up to? Just – hey?

Olive narrowed her eyes as she focused on Angus, who himself looked really focused on – whatever it was he was doing.

Olive closed her book up and put it in her bag. Just what was so interesting in that computer anyway, that he had to go straight to work on it? He'd always taken the time to talk to her, even for a few minutes, just to see how the other's day has been. And lately, usually their talks ran much longer than that. At least until the last few weeks anyway –

She walked up and over to his computer, standing right over his shoulder. "What you got going on over there?" Olive asked curiously.

Angus startled her – he'd sprung straight up, from out his chair, whirled - and stared her down, his wide frame completely blocking the computer. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" He barked.

Olive was a little taken back by the hostility. "I – " Olive was shocked into silence.

"I'm working on something here. It's my private business. What were you doing peeking over my shoulder?" He asked again, the volume on his voice lower this time, but still very much harsh.

"I – I'm sorry Angus. I was just curious," she said. "You looked so busy – "

"It's because I am busy," Angus said, his tone no less unfriendly.

"Right. I'm sorry. It's just that you haven't been talking to me much lately, and just now I'd said hi, and all you did was say – hey, and that was it, and you looked so much more interested in what you were doing on the computer, than in having a talk with me - " Olive stopped herself. She realized how she was making herself sound like -

She looked to Angus, whose face was decidedly softer now, less cross. "I'm sorry, Olive – "

Wait, what? He was apologizing to her?

" – I didn't mean to get up in your face. But what I'm doing right now, is not something I want to share."

That stung. Usually Angus was happy to share lots of things with her.

"I'm going to go now," he said, in his quietest voice yet. He turned around slowly, his wide back completely preventing her from seeing any of the screen contents. He shut off the computer, and left.

Olive was so stunned that she couldn't think to say anything. She just watched him leave.

Olive slumped down on her seat. Did she do something wrong?

It was right then that she heard Chyna stirring. "Hey, Olive. How long was I out?"

"Um – maybe ten minutes?"

Chyna slowly got up from her futon. She rolled her sleeves up. "Cool, that means I have time to start on my math homework! What chapter are we on again?" She whipped her books out, then paused –

"Olive, are you ok?"

Olive nodded slowly. "Yea – I am."

Chyna raised a single eyebrow at her, but before the singer could say another word, the phone rang –

Chyna picked up the phone. "Oh hey, Haru – what's up? Uh – huh. Yep."

Chyna fell silent for a second –

"Really? I thought – we agreed – well, of course I am! It's just – isn't it a little soon? Yes – I assure you, I am ready. You'll talk to my dad? Uh huh, yea, I'll see you then! Ok, bye."

Chyna hung up.

Olive had been listening. The tone in Chyna's voice had intrigued her. For the moment, her confusion with Angus was put in the back of her mind –

"Was that Haru Toriyami?" Olive asked.

"Yep." China still looked very much shell – shocked from the phone conversation: "He wants me to go to New York next week. For a concert – "

No way –

" – I said yes. As if I had a choice really – hello, contract." Chyna gave a dry laugh.

"You don't look very happy," Olive observed.

Chyna looked thoughtful. "I guess I am. It just feels a little soon. When I signed with Nooby Records, Haru was giving me all this talk about how he was going to take his time with me … you know, let me cut my record at my own pace. He promised me that he was going to push the tours and all that promotional stuff all the way back to July, after I was done with school. Now he calls to say that I gotta to be ready to open up a show next week, in the middle of the school year. In New York! I dunno if I'm ready for this."

Olive thought about it. "Weren't you the one who always said, that it was impossible to be 100 percent ready for anything?"

Chyna gave a slow nod. "Yea … I did."

Olive sighed, and then laid a hand on her friend's slumping shoulder. "Chyna, for as long as I've known you, you'd never shied away from the spotlight. It took only a week at Webster High, for you to steal the lead role in the school play – as an 11 year old! So why shy away now?"

Chyna said nothing. Her dark eyes stayed fixed at Olive's feet.

Olive bent down and gently used her hand to raise her friend's chin –

Olive looked straight into her friend's eye: "When I started here at the Ant Farm, I was scared to death of high school. But then you came along and showed me there was nothing to be afraid of. I think it's time that I return the favor – so here I am, telling you right now – that you can do this. I'll be there right behind you, and so will Fletcher, and so will A-Angus."

Chyna's grin slowly unfurled –

"You really mean that?"

"Of course! If I'm lying, then my name's not Olive Daphne Doyle!"

An idea seemed to take light in Chyna's head –

"Ok. I know it might be asking a lot – since it'll be in the middle of the school week, and my show's all the way in New York – "

Olive already knew what Chyna was going to ask, "I'll be there! I promise."

"Really?"

"Of course I will!" Olive exclaimed. "What kind of friend do you take me for?"

Chyna smiled from ear to ear – before Olive knew it, her friend was crushing her in a huge hug. She heard Chyna squeal –

Now she was squealing too: "New York! I can't believe it!"

"I know!" Chyna exclaimed.

Olive pulled away from her hug. "So who are you opening for?"

"Well – I can't remember all the names – but Haru mentioned Charice, Willow Smith, Taylor Swift, the Shake It Up dancers, Sonny Munroe, Nicki Starr – "

"Oh my god! Are you talking about The 25 Starrs under 25 concert? Headlining Nicki Starr?"

"That's the one!" Chyna grinned.

"Wow, that's definitely a big concert. That's going to be at Madison Square Garden!"

"Yep."

"Unbelievable. Do you know what the seating capacity is in that place, Chyna? 20,000 people!"

Chyna's normally dark complexion turned ashen. "Twenty – twenty thousand people?"

"Yep. Madison Square Garden seats 18,200 for hockey games, 19,763 for basketball games, and 20,000 center stage for concerts."

"Twenty – twenty thousand people…"

"Yep! So when are you going to tell Fletcher?"

Chyna snapped out of daze, and her shell – shocked eyes glimmered now, "Right! Of course, I got to go tell Fletcher!"

Chyna whirled and took off – ready to leave the Ant Farm, but slipped on the carpet. She sprawled awkwardly, in a tangle with the carpet facing Angus's computer desk.

"I've got to talk to Skidmore about the school insurance policy." Chyna deadpanned.

Olive started to laugh, but then she caught sight of Angus's computer desk.

Angus…

Olive's laugh died in her throat.

Fletcher had a hard time focusing in science class. He kept fidgeting in his seat, and Mr. Lombardi's lecture completely whizzed over his head. He'd completely tuned out his teacher's animated rants on the concept of work, energy and power. The only thing that mattered was the little project he was working on in his notepad –

It had started out with a single line, but now he had an oval face, straight hair, and almond shaped, warm eyes – and it had stayed like that for 40 minutes. Usually he was quick to draw what he wanted … in this case it was a drawing of Janice.

After she had surprised him with an invitation to New York, he felt that a beautiful drawing of her was in order, but he kept messing it up somehow.

The eyes were all wrong, his mind kept telling him. It wasn't supposed to be almond shaped and light brown.

"Dude. Dude… dude!" Someone kept saying, but it hardly mattered, he needed to finish this project, even if it was going to kill him -

Fletcher's desk shook. The rattle messed up his concentration, and he made a stray, errant mark that cut across the face.

"Hey!" Fletcher said, annoyed. "I was working on something."

Angus's face focused into view. "Dude, class was over like a billion years ago."

Fletcher looked around. Yep. Angus was right. The science classroom was completely empty. "Right – I knew that."

"So what's that you're working on?" Angus took hold of Fletcher's note pad –

"Hey! I'm still working on that!" Fletcher said, indignant. He sprang out of his seat to grab the pad, but Angus, who was much taller, only had to raise his hands high to put the pad out of reach.

"Gimme that back! Gimme back!"

"Hmm," Angus said, completely ignoring Fletcher. He studied Fletcher's drawing of Janice, "I see you've moved on from drawing Chyna – "

"What about Chyna?" A voice called.

Fletcher took advantage of the momentary distraction – and snatched his note pad back from Angus. He glared at his bigger friend, then turned to Chyna, and laughed, "Oh, we weren't talking about you – we were discussing current events – and how China's currency is now on par with the US dollar." Fletcher looked to Angus for back up, but Angus only shrugged and said, "Yea – what he said."

"Riiight," Chyna said, eyeing both her friends warily.

"Anyway, guys…forget about that. I came here to tell you guys something – it's really big news. I'm going to New York – next week – and I'm going to open a show at Madison Square Garden!" She exclaimed.

Fletcher was stunned. "Did you say – New York? Next week?"

"Yep! And I want you guys to be there! Please please say you'll be there. I need my friends to be there to support me for my first real concert." Chyna's eyes sought Fletcher's. Suddenly Fletcher had déjà vu, multiple ones in fact – of large, mesmerizing dark eyes looking into his like they were now – like back at the boardwalk in the summertime, or even their "night out" last Friday –

"Fletcher. Fletcher. Hello?"

Fletcher shook himself from his daze. "Right! Of course I'll be there, Chyna."

"Great!" Chyna's nose crinkled when she smiled. "What about you, Angus?"

"I don't know," Angus said honestly. "I'm probably going to be busy. Here at school and all."

Chyna nodded understandingly, then turned to Fletcher. "So you're really coming right? You better not flake." Chyna was warning in a kidding tone, but Fletcher had the feeling she really wasn't kidding.

"When you say your concert was?" He asked.

"I didn't – and it's the 14th."

"That's great! Perfect, actually. I'm actually going to be in New York from the 10th through the 14th. I'll be there, with Janice. She has this swim meet, I think the day of your concert - "

He noticed the dropped smile on Chyna's face –

"What time's her swim meet?" She asked.

"I dunno, but I'm sure it's sometime in the morning."

"Oh, that's perfect then. My concert's at night." Chyna's excitement was back, but only for only a second. She sounded subdued when she asked, quietly, "So. You're going on vacation with Janice?"

Fletcher nodded. " – Well anyway," he continued awkwardly, "I promise, no matter what happens, I'll be there."

Chyna's smile was slow to show itself, but it was there. She came over to wrap him in a huge hug. She smelled like peaches, like usual -

"I'm so glad you're coming Fletcher."

Fletcher returned her hug in earnest.

"Anytime, Chyna."

It was the day of the flight, and an early Saturday morning in sleepy, San Francisco. Fletcher was up way before his normal waking hours. Drawer shelves snapped open and shut as Fletcher snatched shirts and shorts and threw them over his head.

He was making quite a racket – his older sisters kept shouting at him through the wall to keep the noise down. Fletcher kept apologizing profusely – he hadn't realized he was being so loud.

On top of his bed, were all the stuff he needed. They were laid out haphazardly across the sheets: his ID, his wallet, socks, ANT pad, drawing pads, clean shirts, his lucky PJ's, jackets, jeans –

He took his wallet and counted out the money he had. Yep, that should be enough to last him the 4 days.

He crammed everything unceremoniously into his luggage. He zipped the luggage closed – or at least, tried zipping it. The stupid thing was stuck. He opened the zipper again, and then tried closing it again. Still stuck. Then he realized, duh! One of the shirts he'd packed was sticking out right over here, no wonder it wouldn't close! He tucked the shirt in, and finally, the luggage was sealed.

Ok - so far, so good. Fletcher looked at his watch. He was making good time.

He scrambled out of his door with luggage in tow to find his dad standing at the doorway, with mail in his hand.

His father smiled at him. His sleepy eyes twinkled just a little bit: "Sorry about the late notice, son – I forgot that this came in the mail. You should read it before you go."

Fletcher took the mail from his dad. He eyed the return address of the mail. It was from the SAAC – San Francisco Authentic Art Convention –

"Oh wow. I've been waiting for a return letter for months!"

Fletcher tore open the envelope and whipped out the letter in seconds, looking only for a single word – acceptance. Three lines down, he'd found it. He was in!

"Dad, dad – I got in."

His father, who was looking about ready to sleep just a minute before, was considerably alert now, "Really?"

"Yes…yes! They liked my abstract painting of San Francisco."

Mr. Quimby wrapped his son in an airtight bearhug. "I'm happy for you, son! When's the big date?"

"Right. Lemme check – " Fletcher's grin slipped as he read the date.

His father didn't miss the change in expression. "Is there something wrong, Fletcher?"

"The date's on the 14th."

Mr. Quimby's face turned serious. "That – but you're going to be in New York."

"Well, I'm supposed to be."

Blue eyes furrowed in thought underneath a balding head. "This is quite the dilemma. So what do you want to do, son?"

Fletcher's heart flipped and flopped. He honestly didn't know. He took a moment to think -

New York, or San Francisco? Which was more important? He thought about his abstract painting – and how he spent about two days on it, painting his version of the San Francisco skyline. How he'd chosen weird colors for the backdrop, and how he'd depicted the Golden Gate Bridge and the shoreline in funny shapes –

It was a great painting, and he was proud of it. But he could always make more paintings, and get into other art shows.

But stuff like his best friend's first concert? How could he miss that?

The way was clear.

"I can tell – you're already leaning towards New York," his father said.

"It's not that I don't want to go, dad. I do – but I can't miss New York, dad. Chyna has this huge concert coming up, her first professional concert ever, and then Janice has this swim meet. They…both need me there, dad."

Mr. Quimby nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, it's your choice. I suppose there will be other art conventions." His father laughed. "You should probably go before your mother wakes up. If she finds out about this, she'd never let you leave."

Fletcher was relieved. His dad wasn't going to give him a hard time about this. Today wasn't the first time that Fletcher was thankful that his dad was so laid back. "You're awesome, dad."

Another chuckle from his father, "You must really like this Chyna girl."

"Um. I do. But not like that, dad. Janice's my girlfriend. Chyna's just my friend."

Mr. Quimby looked startled, apologetic, and intrigued all at once. "Oh, sorry, Fletcher! Honest mistake. It's just – I assumed – since you mentioned Chyna first – "

Fletcher laughed it off. "Doesn't matter, dad." He hugged his dad goodbye, and walked out. Fletcher's uncle was waiting for him in the front, ready to take him to the San Francisco airport. He couldn't help but think about what his dad had said the entire ride there.