I'm sorry it's taken me so ridiculously long to update, but I've been so busy with school etc. And unfortunately, despite the length of time it's taken me to write it, this is both a pretty short and pretty crappy chapter. Just look at it as a filler. I can't get away with not writing about the aftermath, but I don't particularly want to.

Okay, review replies, very long, skip if you want…unless you reviewed.

Littlemissbad: Thank you for your review! You're always so prompt! You really motivate me to carry on with this, because I'm usually so bad at carrying stuff on.

TaylorxxTwihard: I'm majoring in Classics. And I know what you mean about finding the time! I get emails telling me someone's updated a story and think 'Oh, I'll just read it later' and later turns into several weeks later!

Le Demarreur du Feu: Your review made me smile so much! And I know, I am being hard on Phoebe!

Lydi Gomistan: I should have put that in the summary, it is AU. They didn't know each other when they were kids in this, and they aren't witches in this, but you can believe Grams is if you want to, because I do keep making references to witchcraft in connection to her.

Xcgirl3: Thank you for reviewing and I'm sorry I didn't update sooner!

Bad Reputation

After the nightmare that was homecoming, I am not looking forward to school this morning, but being at home with Phoebe and Grams is so much worse. I haven't spoken to Phoebe all weekend, not that she's even tried to speak to me, or, you know, maybe apologize. Poor Piper keeps trying to get us to talk to one another, but it's just not happening. Phoebe went too far this time.

"You could have given Phoebe a ride too," Piper says reproachfully from the passenger seat, and I shoot her a look.

"Piper, until she apologizes, I'm not even going to look at her, let alone talk to her."

Piper shakes her head next to me, but I'm only being honest. I couldn't hate Phoebe more right now.

"So Friday didn't really go to plan," Andy whispers to me in AP U.S History.

"No, not quite" I whisper back sarcastically. Phoebe's probably already screwed things up so there's not much point in being nice. Mrs. Brixton looks up and frowns at me for talking, and I jab my pen angrily into the open page of my notebook on which all I've scrawled so far is the day, Monday, and try to concentrate.

Which doesn't work.

"Prue?" I jump and look up, feeling my face go red.

"Sorry?" I say faintly. Mrs. Brixton is standing a few feet from my desk looking at me expectantly. Everyone is looking at me, so she must have said my name a good few times.

Mrs. Brixton clicks her tongue impatiently. "See me after class," she says.

I don't make any notes for the rest of the class. I mean, what's the point?

At the end I pack up my stuff along with everyone else, hoping that Mrs. Brixton will forget, but she doesn't, indicating that I should wait until everyone else leaves.

"How are things, Prue?" She asks, sitting on the edge of her desk and crossing her arms as the last few stragglers leave.

"Great," I say enthusiastically, my automatic response to that question no matter who asks it.

"And how is Phoebe, after homecoming?" Does the whole world know about my sister being a slut?

"Oh, um, she's…she's fine." At least I assume she is, it's not like we've spoken recently.

"Good, good…You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to, Prue, then I'm always-"

"Oh, thanks, I know," I cut in, mortified.

"Right. Well." She stands up and smiles at me. "You'd better go and have lunch."

"I can't believe your sister, Prue!" Carrie crows, and she must be stupid if she thinks I can't see the delight all over her face at showing me up in front of everyone at our lunch table.

"Behaving like that at homecoming, and a freshman too! I mean, who does she think she is?" Carrie gives me a sly look here, perhaps to see how I'm taking it, or perhaps because that last comment was really directed at me.

"It wasn't any worse than how you were behaving," I shoot back. "Just because you're a few years older it makes it okay?" I'm not trying to defend Phoebe for her sake, more for my own, as selfish as that sounds. Carrie gapes, and everyone else at the lunch table has fallen silent too, no doubt to enjoy the fight they're hoping will happen.

"I'm not saying Phoebe's behavior was appropriate, but it's not like you weren't a complete slut in freshman year too."

For several seconds Carrie looks absolutely stunned, but then her face fills with fury.

"Thanks for reminding me why I didn't vote for you as homecoming queen," Carrie sneers, grabbing her tray and standing up.

I stand up too. "Don't worry, I'm leaving," I mutter, walking off.

Why did Phoebe have to come to this school? Why couldn't she have been born just a year later? Then we would have missed each other completely. Until she came here, nobody even knew I had a sister at this school. Piper doesn't exactly draw attention to herself after all. And now, now Phoebe's ruined everything. Not just the impression of my seemingly near-perfect life I give everyone, but Andy too.

After the lousy day, I don't think it could get much worse, but the greeting I get from Grams when I get home suggests otherwise.

"Prue!" Grams literally screeches from the sunroom.

"Yeah?" I call back, reluctant to actually face her.

"In here!" She replies, and I grudgingly drag myself into the sunroom to face here.

"What's wrong?" I ask as she looks up from her paper, smiling at her as sweetly as I can, although to be honest I don't have it perfected like Piper seems to.

Grams looks me up and down before looking directly at me. "How was Homecoming?"

"Um, fine," I answer warily. Perhaps someone called her and told her that Phoebe was there, and what she did. What if she's found out that I knew Phoebe was there? After all, this is just the kind of twisted thing she'd do, lull my into a false sense of security, making it look like we're having a perfectly normal and civil conversation before she attacks.

"Good," she says slowly. "And…this boy, the one you went with…"

"Andy," I supply.

"Yes, Andy," she says with some disdain. "I want to meet him. I'd like you to invite him over for dinner."

"No!" I blurt out in horror before I can stop myself.

Grams' eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "Why ever not?" She asks.

"Well…I…he…" I stare speechlessly, trying frantically to come up with some excuse.

"Are you ashamed of us?" Grams asks dryly.

"No…"

"Well then I don't see what the problem is."

"No, I…" I trail off. "It's just that…why do you want to meet him?"

"Can't I check the kind of people my granddaughter is hanging around with? Anyway, it was Phoebe's idea actually. She thought it would be nice for all of us." Phoebe?! I'll kill her. And since when has Grams listened to Phoebe anyway?

"But…well I suppose…"

"Good, that's settled then," Grams says, already returning to her newspaper. "Invite him around on Friday."

I leave the room, rather dazed at how she managed to trick me into that.

This is exactly why I never tell Grams about any boyfriends. She wants to meet them, and when she meets them, she makes it hell for them, interrogating them and generally wearing them down until they think that my family are complete psychos and break up with me. Of course, I am basing this on the first and last time I brought a boyfriend home, which was 8th grade. I should probably also add that he was my first boyfriend and I have not repeated that mistake since.

I stomp up the stairs nosily just to piss Grams off, and bump into Piper on the landing.

"What's up with you?" Piper asks, seeing my face.

"What do you think, Little Miss Perfect?" I snap at her.

Piper stares at me speechlessly as I storm past, heading straight for Phoebe's room. I throw her door open without knocking, and she jumps from the bed where she's painting her toenails.

"Crap! Prue! Look what you made me do! I smudged my nail polish now." She begins trying to wipe away the nail polish that went over the edges, and I walk right up to her and fold my arms in front of her. After several seconds she looks up.

"Yeah?" She snaps. "What do you want anyway?"

I glare at Phoebe. "You've ruined everything," I snap. "Grams wants Andy to come for dinner on Friday! Happy now?!"

Phoebe gives a derisive laugh.

"Not everything's about you, Prue. The world doesn't revolve around you, even if school does, and this house does. Your life's like some lame teen movie." Phoebe spits, her face livid. Why does she hate me so much? "It's all pointless and meaningless," she continues. "You think any of this matters after you graduate? Do you really think anybody's going to care that for four years you were some stupid cheerleader with a load of false friends?" Before I can throw something equally as hurtful back at her, she stalks off, leaving me standing there, alone again.

Massive struggle to write this. I had to force myself to! I refuse to give up on this! In future maybe I should have someone else write with me…that way someone can pick up the slack for me! I need to stop being so unreliable.

Song's by Joan Jett (oh yes, it is the song from the start of 10 Things I Hate about You).

I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving!