Thanks for the amazing reviews again! And in case you have already noticed, I haven't made Gabriella as sugary sweet as I've made her in the past, but I just wanted to experiment with this one. And if you find yourself hating her and questioning her motives sometimes, well, the other characters are probably going to be doing that, too. :)

Chapter 2

Taking a bite out of her toasted Cookies and Creme Poptart, Gabriella roams through the house, not caring if her aunt will scold her later for leaving crumbs everywhere.

She is quite pleased at herself for having finished buying all her necessary school supplies this morning, a full twenty-four hours before the first day of school, instead of coming empty-handed the morning of and stealing off her fellow classmates. She finds it hilarious how careless others can be sometimes, leaving their pencil teetering on the edge of their desk or forgetting to close their locker all the way so it never actually locks. And, even funnier, there are some who are so precautious they jam their whole bag with enough notebooks that they never notice if one or two are missing at the end of the day.

But for some reason, probably because this is her last year of high school -- perhaps the last time she will ever set foot in an educational facility again -- she'd felt the need to make it memorable. That's why she has a book bag slumped over in a corner of her room, near some partially unpacked boxes, holding a packet of blue pens, a binder, and a two-pocket folder with pictures of prancing puppies on the front.

Licking the tips of her fingers, she searches her mind for something that will entertain her for a while. Seeing Giselle's closed door, she smiles, always enjoying the chance to play with other people, especially her cousin.

She lays a hand on the cool doorknob, twisting but not pushing it just yet. "You better be decent in there," she calls.

"Wait! Don't -- "

"Hey, cousin," chimes Gabriella upon entering the perfectly organized and put together bedroom. She smirks. "'Sup, Gizzy?"

The only acknowledgement Giselle gives Gabriella is when she rolls her eyes at the nickname. She otherwise ignores her because she's heard the worst way to get rid of someone who's pestering you is to egg them on.

Gabriella begins wandering around the room, while Giselle, lying on her stomach and reading a magazine on her bed, continues pretending to be unaware of her presence. Giselle has her iPod plugged into speakers and 'Cry' by Mandy Moore is playing softly.

"You've been moping around for a week," Gabriella complains.

Giselle flips a page and studies tips on the proper way to apply mascara.

"Is it a boy? A new one already? Oh, Gizzy, we've just moved here. But it is a boy, right? Don't answer that. I already know. It's always a boy. One that has swept you off your feet and then subsequently thrown you over his shoulder without ever looking back. A pity, but c'est la vie." Gabriella chuckles. "It does usually take you quite a while to get back on your oversized, Cinderella's-stepsister feet of yours, but you manage. So don't fret, darling. The future is bright."

Giselle groans. "Are you done yet?"

"Only if you are."

"Go away."

"You need support right now."

"You don't know how to be supportive."

"I'll never learn if I don't try."

"Stop spewing out these formulated replies that make you sound genuinely caring!" Giselle snaps.

"What if I am really turning over a new leaf? You could be shutting me down during my initial attempt at an act of kindness, which is supposed to be my first step in becoming a better person." Gabriella puts a hand on her chest. "A better cousin."

Giselle sighs, "All right. I need to vent a little, anyway, and you have ears."

Walking over to the bed, Gabriella perches herself on its edge. "Go on."

"Remember the carnival we were at last week? You were face painting, and I was drawing, and, well, there was a boy who I offered to draw for free. He had the most gorgeous pair of sparkling blue eyes I'd ever seen. They were like oceans."

It took months, nay, years for Gabriella to learn how to control her laughter when her childish cousin said pathetic things like these.

"I spoke with him, even flirted a bit, while I drew and tried sticking my tongue out in that cute way that endears guys. Then when I was done, I wrote my number on the back, hoping he liked me enough to call, but he never did." Dumbfounded, Giselle continues, "Maybe I should have given a hint that something was on the other side, in case he didn't see it."

Having been extremely bored for the entire morning, hearing this story instantly made Gabriella's day a whole lot better. A snort escapes before she knows it.

Her cousin frowns. "Are you laughing at me?"

Giselle's incredulity is the key to opening up a floodgate of comments she'd held back. "I wouldn't be surprised if he threw it out. Even when tracing a template your drawings are crap."

"I bet you scared him off with your tantrum, and he thinks we're both crazy." Giselle muffles a groan with her pillow. "Thanks a lot, cousin."

"He's probably just prefers real artists."

"Don't insult me. This is all your fault! I thought I read all the signs right. I was almost certain he was in to me."

"Hey, genius, have you ever considered that fact that he might already have a girlfriend? And that you can't read other people?" Gabriella stands up and makes her way across the floor.

"I'm still blaming this on you." Giselle presses her palms against her closed eyes in a dramatic demonstration of her defeat and her hopelessness. "You drive everyone away."

"I'll leave you to grow up now. You have a lot of work to do before starting college, and I don't think you'll befriend anyone with an attitude of a tween." Rolling her eyes, Gabriella sighs and turns so her back faces Giselle, ready to exit the room. Before leaving, she shoots one last question over her shoulder. "By the way, have you seen my wig?"

"You mean this one?" Giselle slyly smiles while pulling out a tangled blue bird's nest from under her bed.

Rage wraps around her heart and squeezes until she feels it's about to burst. "You stole from me?"

"I'm doing you a favour," she explains. "Looking like a psycho isn't going to help you at your new school."

Lunging for the fake hair, Gabriella yells, "Give it back!"

But in the blink of an eye, Giselle rolls away and swiftly grabs a pair of scissors that Gabriella hadn't noticed before. "As your older cousin, it's my duty to help you. Plus, I bet this was part of the reason why that boy didn't want to call me back. At the beginning of your squabble with his friend, I tried to make it seem like I didn't know you, but you made me step in. Now he's associated me with a blue-haired witch that tortures little children."

In horror, she watches as bits of blue float towards the floor like feathers until her wig is no more. "You'll regret that." Gabriella makes a show of dragging her eyes from the blades of the scissors to Giselle's fleshy, olive-toned neck. "My dad is a prisoner on death row, don't you remember? He's taught me everything he kn -- "

Giselle puts her hands on her hips. "Jesus, Gabriella, you have a messed up sense of humour." Even after years of living with her cousin, she still doesn't understand her. The two would often clash as Gabriella enjoyed tormenting anyone who was close enough to hear her voice. Giselle's own mother eventually gave up trying to settle the arguments after a while.

Gabriella giggles and then leaves, slinking into the hallway. For as long as she can remember, they've taken turns trying to piss the other off. It'd started when Giselle had accidentally spilled orange soda on Gabriella's white shirt one day when they were in junior high, and the next day, Gabriella had shoved Giselle into a mud pit. Sometimes the revenge was intentional. Other times, it just happened, although neither girl had gone as far as to endanger a life except when Giselle's hamster had steered its plastic hamster ball a little too close to the edge of the stairs, and Gabriella had no intention of helping it. Thankfully, the older cousin had rushed there in time to stop the creature's bumpy decent to its death.

Giselle walks over to close her door and shouts, "Freak!" to her cousin's retreating figure.

Gabriella, however, isn't listening, but is instead wondering how far she will go this time. Several plans swim in her head, but she doesn't feel pressured to come up with anything anytime soon, so she decides to wait for an opportunity to arrive. The best revenge, she's learned, is the kind that will come right to you, practically crawling on to your lap with you having put no effort into finding it at all.