Hey guys. Since this is chapter 20 (technically, if you count the prolouge as a chapter), we wanted to go a little big because the twentieth chapter is sort of big for this story. It shows how long his sotry and going, so we want to add some of the stuff you guys have been asking for.

I try my best to respond to the readers and reviewer who think their is something I'm missing or have ideas they want to give me. I got this one from a 'Guest' and this how I'm responding to it:

So one reviewer said that they should use their bionics in a chapter. That kind of why I had the mission part of the last chapter. Christine doesn't know about their powers and neither do the rest of their friends. So it would throw the plot completely off course if they just blurted out they were bionic to everyone. This story goes at it's own pace and they do still have their bionics, but I'm not going to just have them use their powers in every other chapter because this is really just about Christine and Chase, and how their friends are helping them with their secret romance.

I hope that cleared things up for everyone who was a little confused. :)

No One's Pov

"I don't see why they're so upset about this!" Donald cried in exasperation, tossing his hands up in the air while standing in the kitchen as Tasha came into the room.

She shook her head in disbelief. "They're teenagers in love, Donald," she tsked. "Not controlled robots."

"I don't think of them like that," he protested, the fight in his voice fading inch by inch. "But that girl can't be trusted!"

Tasha sighed and grabbed a pot and pan, set on perparing dinner. "Christine is harmless." The woman made sure to put great emphisas on the girl's name. "You even said so yourself that she had to one of the sweetest girls in the high school."

Donald crossed his arms, refusing to admit she was right. "Her dad isn't!" he hollered childishly. "We're talking about the daughter to my biggest enemy here! His evil is coursing through her DNA—infesting her brain cells."

Tasha raised an eyebrow. "And stupidity courses through yours," she mocked, twisting various knobs on the stove. "You may be the world's greatest genius and create a million new eletronics for the world a day, but you know absolutely nothing about teenage love."

"Not true," he protested again, feeling offended. "And it's not like anyone needs 'teen love' anyway. I've raised three perfectly fine kids without it."

"But don't you think they would've been better with it?" Tasha asked finally. "I mean, think about how clueless they are to practically everything involving a teenager's normal day. These guys go on missions and are pressured with saving the world; having a girlfriend or boyfriend would be great for them."

Donald's posture sagged, leaving his facial feature weary, like he'd age a couple years in a short matter of seconds. "I never said they couldn't date," he pointed out bitterly. "They just can't date the blood of my arch rivals."

Tasha gave him a hard stare. "Tell me," she said finally. "Do you really—and I mean honest to God truth, Donald—think that innocent, sweet girl is up to anything? Even if you and her father have been battling for so many years?"

He stubbornly looked away, avoiding eye contact. "I don't want them seeing each other," his disagreed firmly. "And that is final."

His wife sighed in defeat, her expression morphing into one of disappointment. "Fine," she sighed. "What you say."

Then Donald sulked off to the lab, set on blissfully ignoring the gnawing guilt carving into his chest. Working made it easy to push feelings to the side; he'd take logic over emotions any day.

Chase watched Donald leave the kitchen quietly, counting five heartbeats until he decided it was same to come out of his hiding spot.

"I know you're there," Tasha called out to him, focused on breaking the noodles and pouring them into the pot.

"How'd you know I was there?" Chase asked sheepishly, going over his plan positive he couldn't have gotten caught.

Tasha pointed to his corner with her free hand. "Saw your shadow," she responded, sliding the sauce jar near him. "Punishment: your helping with dinner." She laughed at her form of a punishment, know Chase really didn't care whether or not he was involved with cooking dinner.

"Fine," Chase shrugged, shaking a thick river of dark red sauce into the pan. "And you have to give me more advice."

Tasha turned and raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Is it wrong if I don't trust my girlfriend?"

She paused, unsure of what to say. "It's not a good thing when it comes to relationships," Tasha said slowly, "If that's what you meant."

Chase groaned, tossing his back and stirring absentmindedly. "I trust her, I just don't trust the pretty boy she hangs out with."

Tasha laughed at his confession. "Ah, the case of the Little Green Monster."

He shook his head in disagreement. "I'm not jealous," he exclaimed stubbornly. "...That much..."

She shook her head and gestured to the pack of meat as she talked. "Every teenager in a relationship go through this. There are going to be guys giveing Chrisitne's some looks; she's not bad looking."

Chas snorted, staring down at the bubbling sauce in frustration. "I know that," he grumbled, stirring it and getting slightly out of hand. Then he looked up, face morphed into an expression of annoyance. "Why can't Davenport see I'm happy with Christine? For world famous scientists—they're both acting like giant idiots."

Tasha sighed, leaving her station in front of the noodles to set the table. "Part of being a scientist is sticking to their claim, and their claim is that they are both horrible people," she suggesed thoughtfully. "Don't worry, they'll have to ome around eventually."

Chase didn't let up with his expression. "Yeah, right."

Christine's Pov

"Oh my God," Rachel said in awe, her jaw dropped to the floor as she stared down at the picture in my hand. "They look exactly alike—it's freaky."

I huffed. "They look nothing alike!" I disagreed in vain, knowing that the resemblence between Chase and the picture in my hand was very freaky.

Last night I'd been searching through a box I'd forgotten to unpack and foudn that it was a bunch of old pictures of my old friends and me in Austrailia. Billions of picture were in my room of my friends and me now (not to mention the dozens of pictures Chase and I snuck in on our secret dates tucked safely under my matress) that I'd shoved the Austrailia ones in the box to the box of closet to hibernate. And when I was showing it to Rachel at school today, she started freaking out how it looked exactly like Chase. (I'm not saying she's wrong, but I wasn't going to tell her she's right either.)

Rachel rolled her eyes and snatched the picture from my hands and held it closer to her face. "No wonder you're dating Chase," she laughed. "He's an exact replica of your ex."

I made a face at her. "Are you kidding? They're nothing alike."

"Oh really?" Rachel challenged, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. "What could possibly be different between the two?"

"For one thing," I started, "Neville is Austrailian. Another is that he's an acting prodigy."

She snapped her fingers, turning to me with wide eyes. "So that's where I've seen him! Isn't he on the host on that show Tasmanian Neville? On the Discovery Channel?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes, casting them down to the picture. "Oh please—that dude is afraid of any huge animal with sharp teeth and could make a boomerang to save his life. Oddly enough, my cousin can and she is two years younger than him!"

Just as Rachel was about to respond, Bree and Janelle came up to us with a cheerful, "Hey guys."

"Look at this picture," Rachel demanded as she shoved it in their faces. "Doesn't Chrisitne's boyfriend from Austrailia look like Chase's long lost twin?"

Bree gasped. Janelle grabbed the picture as the two gawked at it. "Dear God," she exclaimed way too dramatically. I loved my friends to death, but sometimes, like this moment, they took things too seriously. "They look exactly alike."

"Except for the fact Chase has never owned a get-up like that in his life," Bree added, critcally eyeing Neville's outdoor survival get-up he'd bee wearing when I took that picture of him.

"Wait—when were you in Austrailia?" Janelle flipped the picture over, scanning closely for a date. "Before you moved to our fair city?"

The rest of us gave her a look. "Did you just say 'fair city'?" Bree laughed.

Janelle shrugged. "Yeah...don't judge."

We raised our hands in defense. "Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Now, do you want to hear the story or not." At their eager head nods and furious gestures for me to get on with it, I just sighed. "Nothing to tell. Dad had shipped us from Flordia to Austrailia for a brief animal project and we stayed for a couple months. I made some friends and got a boyfriend—" I pointed to the picture Bree was now holding—"and Neville let his show go that big head of his. So we broke up before dad moved us here."

Rachel looked at me. "You do know that you just implied your boyfriend has a huge head, right?"

I glared playfully and bumped her off the bench.

Chase's Pov

I was bored out of my mind. Despite the fact Janelle, Rachel, and Sammie (or Sam as us guys called her) came over and we've all been having a horror movie marathon, I wanted something more fun to do. "Rach," I hissed, tapping her shoulder.

"Whaa?" she responded, her mouth full of popcorn.

"Is her dad home?"

"Noh. Wom'b be few tee houws."

"Good. Leaving now."

I jumped off the couch and left, happy that Davenport had decided to take Tasha out to beg for forgiveness or something like that.

Two dogs barked at me twice on the way there, one nearly succedding in jumping the fence to get. (I think I had all rights to be afraid of a pitbull baring it's teeth at me.) And one very rebellious squirrel thought it would've been hilarious to throw a couple acorns at me as I passed his tree.

Suffice to say, I wasn't at my best when I arrived at Chrisitne's house.

My irritated mood wasn't lifted when I heard a loud thump of numerous things falling soon followed by happy laughter. My curiosity peeking, I open the door, happy it was unlocked.

Oh my God.

Christine looked up at me with wide eyes—like a kid who got caught writing on the walls and knew the punishment was going to be severe.

"This is soooo a misunderstanding!" she squeaked awkwardly, standing from crawling offf Callan's chest. He stared up at me to, torn between defending himself or Christine first. "Callan and have an assignment due and—we were—busy with...—Lois and Clarke!"

I stared at her, unsure of what to even think. She was telling the truth, that I knew for sure. Christine may squeak under pressure, but when's she caught lying, her voice raised five octaves higher than normal.

"Nothing happened," Callan insisted, standing himself. He pointed to the open textbooks and loose papers scattered messily on the coffee table, couch, and floor. Nice to know they were actually working rather than making out.

"Whatever," I muttered finally, briskly turning to the door. "I'll see you later."

So, I left you with a cliffie. Kind of. I hoped that filled your wishes of some jealousy and anger issues. Did you see how I added Billy Unger's part from an A.N.T Farm episode? I was in a Unger mood, so we added it in because we love him.

And before I forget, please check out my stories on Wattpad, because I haven't been getting many comments. (None really.) My author name is SilentWriter4Ever.

Review, my lovelies and keep an eye for the next chapter! :)