So, part two was much harder to finish than I expected. I hope you guys like it. I feel like some of it is a bit weird, but I'm blaming that on trying to channel 14-year-old Bade in all their glory. I hadn't originally planned to end it where I did, but I didn't want to stretch it too far. I hope you guys liked my foray into ~original ideas. I do hope to do more...

Thanks again for all the wonderful feedback, you have all been so encouraging and positive!

Disclaimer: Victorious and any recognizable material does not belong to me. Call it a creative loan.

When they got to the beach she headed straight for the sand. He followed, sitting down next to her. Their boots kind of matched, he noticed. She tapped her finger against her nearly empty coffee cup; they'd spent most of the bus ride there just drinking, unsure what to say to each other.

"So you wanna be an actor." She broke the silence, but it wasn't a question. Merely a fact.

"Yup," he nodded. This was good. They both went to Hollywood Arts, they obviously had something in common. Lets starts there.

"Why?"

Beck raised his eyebrows at her, not sure how to answer that. People didn't usually ask "why?" when he said he wanted to be an actor. And somehow, he didn't think any old answer would slide with Jade West.

She looked at him, "People are going to ask when you're famous. May as well practise now."

He tried to hide a tiny pleased smile, "You think I'm gonna be famous?"

She didn't say anything; instead she just drained the rest of her coffee cup and put it down in front of her, pushing it into the sand so it wouldn't topple over.

"Why do you wanna be an actress?" He asked.

"Who says I do?" She turned to him, her eyes challenging him.

"You go to Hollywood Arts."

She shrugged, "A lot of kids go to Hollywood Arts."

He said nothing, but he watched her. Slowly, she sighed and her shoulders relaxed a little.

"Acting's cool. And singing. But, I want to write stuff. Direct, produce... I don't know. It's stupid, but I think it's not about creating things but more about discovering them-"

"It's not stupid." He nudged her shoulder with his gently, well aware that this was probably the most open she'd been with anyone from school.

She looked at him again, and this time it was like a gate had been opened. Well, one gate out of a hundred. But opened nonetheless. Her mouth curved into the smallest of smiles, but it reached her eyes.

"You never answered my question," she says, breaking the silence. It was a comfortable silence, and to be perfectly honest he was more preoccupied by sneaking stares at her profile and the idea of touching her shoulder. He'd never been this nervous to touch a girl's shoulder before. But then again, girls he'd been interested in before could never really physically harm him.

"Hmm?" he asks, pretending to focus on view of the water. Her breathing was somewhat in time with the waves.

"Why do you want to be an actor?"

The question causes him to turn his head, curious. She was more persistent than he'd thought. He wondered whether this was her test, whether his motivation at Hollywood Arts really meant that much to her. He knew she was dedicated and passionate, maybe she didn't want to be with someone who wasn't...

"Basically," he started, trying to pick his words carefully. "I mean, apart from the fact that I like it. I also think acting gives you this opportunity to show off different parts of yourself. Even if you're playing something totally different, you still give yourself to the role, you know? I guess I like exploring that." He added a shrug at the end, trying to convey that he hadn't thought about this too hard.

She stared at him, slowly raising an eyebrow. He had no idea what she was thinking; she looked like she was both unimpressed and amused.

"What?" he asked.

"You're one of those," she says. She eyed him up and down quickly before turning her gaze back to the sand.

"One of what?" His heart dropped, maybe he had read it all wrong. Maybe he should've just pretended he didn't care about it at all.

"You call acting "art" and all that pretentious chizz." Her fingers form quotation marks in the air.

At this his eyes widen. He had no idea what kind of impression he'd been making on her, but 'pretentious' wasn't what he was expecting. He was actually a little bit hurt. "You think I'm pretentious?"

At this she definitely looked amused. Maybe she just enjoyed messing with people's confidence. He wouldn't put it past her. "What's your favourite film?" She asked, her eyes staring straight into his. A challenge.

"On The Waterfront -"

"Ding ding ding." She said, smirking and turning away to face the water once again. He stared at her for a moment, his mind trying to work out how she could insult him and turn him on at the same time. At this point he honestly had no idea whether she was even interested still, or just trying to amuse herself to get through the date.

He took a deep breath (though he tried to be subtle) and said the first thing he could think of, "Look who's talking, Miss Discovery."

Her head snapped to him, and he was sure if she was offended or surprised that he'd even said anything. The only thing he could think of was to try and lighten the mood.

"Seriously though, have you seen it? It's an amazing film!" He said quickly, eyes focused on his hands which were gripping his knees tightly.

She laughed, just a chuckle at first, but it slowly became louder. Not hysterical, just enough to show she was amused. He looked at her and for the first time she grinned at him instead of smirked.

It was all a test. Really. Jade had been asked out a lot, but never really had a boyfriend. Mostly because she couldn't get through a couple of hours without hating whoever had asked her out. They either tried too hard to impress her, or didn't try hard enough (thinking that's what would impress her), or tried too hard to act older than they were, or cooler.

And it's almost painful how bad 14 year old boys are at having a conversation.

He was nervous, she could tell by the way his eyes widened every time she spoke. As if he was freaking out over giving the right answer. But for some reason, it didn't annoy her as much. Maybe because he tried so hard to hide it, without trying to look like he didn't care. Maybe because for some reason, whenever she spoke she felt like he actually understood her.

She suggested the beach because there are almost no distractions. No fussy waiters, or crowds. Besides, if it all went south she could hop on a bus and get home in 20 minutes.

But they'd been talking for a couple of hours already; it was already after five pm. And somehow, nothing had gone particularly wrong. He seemed to take her sarcastic comments in stride, often replying with equal measure. Their music tastes overlapped more than she'd expected. He leaned closer to her when he spoke, but hadn't yet tried to be overly touchy. He never held her gaze for too long, looking away to the water as though to give her some space. She took these moments to sneak looks at his profile, and push away the smile that was creeping up on her lips.

The air started to get a little colder, and she realized that she hadn't actually told her mother she was going somewhere after school.

"I should probably go home." She stood up from the sand, picking up her empty coffee cup and her school bag. With one hand she brushed off the sand from the seat and legs of her black pants. He quickly followed suit, looking a little disappointed.

Just as she was about to start walking, he stopped her.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked, his eyes looked nervous and her heart dropped a little. He was going to ruin everything with a stupid question. Why did guys feel the need to ask? Was she that hard to read?

"What?" She asked, the annoyance in her voice obviously shook him because he took a moment before he spoke again.

"If I picked you up tomorrow morning, with coffee, would you go out with me again?"

The question surprised her; her head shot up to look at him. His hands were shoved in his pocket, his eyes focused on his boots.

"You don't know where I live," she says, her voice lighter. He really wasn't at all what she expected.

His eyes met hers, a lopsided grin on his face. "I was kind of planning on dropping you home tonight."

"Presumptive too," she said as she raised an eyebrow. His grin seemed to grow at this.

"So?"

"If you get the coffee right. Maybe," she replied. Somewhere in the back of her head she reminded herself that the more she saw him, the faster he was going to disappoint her. He chuckled lightly, nodding and taking a hand out of his pocket to run in through his dark hair.

They continued walking towards the main road, her mind was already thinking what her mother might've made for dinner. Beck was walking next to her, but always half a step behind. He was letting her lead, she realized, even their direction.

"Jade, wait," he said suddenly as he put his hand on her shoulder and she whipped around to look at him. He wasn't visibly hurt, and she put a hand on her hip, about to get annoyed again but she didn't even get a chance to say anything.

He smiled at her for a moment, and his hand moved from her shoulder to her wrist as he stepped closer. Then, without saying anything, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. For a second she froze but quickly recovered and responded in kind. The kiss was soft and gentle and he definitely knew what he was doing. When he slowly pulled away, she kept her eyes closed wanting to savour the moment, her lips still tingling. Her lips had never tingled before. His hand lingered on her wrist, his thumb gently tracing lines onto her skin. When she finally looked up at him, he was smiling. Not like he was particularly pleased with himself, but more like he was seeing something beautiful. She blushed a little, before smiling back.

"I just really wanted to do that," he admitted, letting go of her wrist finally.

She nodded wordlessly and pulled her phone out of her pocket. He watched her, a questioning look in his eyes.

"I need to call my mom if I'm not going to be home for dinner," she explained and he grinned, nodding. He turned away, giving her some space to talk. As the phone rang, she watched him shove his hands into his pockets again and rock back on his heels.

"Sweetie?" her mom's voice said.

"Hey Mom," she started and she was pretty sure her smile could be heard through the phone.