New Chapter—how exciting! For you guys anyway, I'm feeling quite devious for reasons I can't give away…:)

Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews to the last chapter. I know we can make to one hundred for this. To all the silent readers: We serious will not bite your head off if you have something to say. If you like the chapter, tell us. If you want something specific to happen, let us know and we might fit it in somewhere (as long as it follows along with the plotline we have made out already).

And just in case any of you were wondering how long we're dragging this series out for, this is a three part story. The third part will only be a five-shot for reasons that will make sense after the sequel to this story (Long Live) is finished.

Christine's Pov

I'm used to being the center of attention. As conceited as I sound, it's true—every new person is no matter what the reason is. One reason might be that your new to the school entirely, another that you're just new to a class or club. So really, I was the center of all gossip for my first three weeks before it simmered into nothing. No big deal.

When walking in Chemistry, all conversation immediately stopped, accusing whispers and curious looks following as I settled into my seat—anyone who ever watched a teen drama movie would know these are signs of something being about you. I furrowed my eyebrows, opening up my notebook to a new page as I thought about what everybody could be bugging about—and why is would be me.

One possibility was that Rachel and Bree blabbed to everyone that Chase looked exactly like my old boyfriend from before I came here; everyone could know about the truce that happened between our families. Those two things alone could spike up more than a dozen of rumors.

Plenty of other reasons why made my suspicions worse. Everyone could know about the spies; the word about how Chase said 'the words' first could be another way to draw attention to our status (impossible since I haven't even told Rachel yet, but also likely since Bree was there).

"What's the deal?" I whispered to Callan, keeping an eye on the door for the teacher. Funny, they scold us for being late to class when they're more tardy than us at times—such irony.

Callan looked up, noticing the funny looks and catty gossip for what seemed to be the first time. "No idea," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't really paying attention."

Two pairs of laughter called out from the other end of the classroom. I looked just in time to see one of the many stupid jocks turning away from spying on Callan and I, snickering and messing around with one of his buddies.

"Idiots," I said to myself, keeping my voice low enough so that Callan didn't hear. He was a jock himself, and it was rude to call your friends' clique meat headed idiots even if that was you thought.

Another lesson from being at a dozen schools all my life.

Callan and I didn't talk again after that, but that didn't mean the gossip lessened. I nearly lunged to claw a group of girls' eyes out because I was sick and tired of them freaking eyeballing me!

Just when I was about to—screw worrying about getting suspended, those Barbies deserved it—when the teacher came it, a coffee stain on his tie and the paper in his hands clearly unorganized. He rambled off about being 'sorry for being late' and started scratching on the chalkboard. (Why the school still had those, no ideas.)

He was in the middle of telling about tomorrow's assignment when the piercing of the bell stopped him. His words of studying our textbooks lost as a wave of eager students leave.

"Later," Callan said over his shoulder to me. I just wave in response, feeling hurried as I rushed to my locker. I spun the dial quickly, switching my books in time to make it to lunch. I was about to slam my locker shut when a voice snap at me.

"Is it true?" Chase spun me around, our faces only inches apart. "And when were you planning on telling me about this?"

I narrowed my eyes in confusion, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. I've never seen this side of him before—so angry and frantic-at me. "What on earth are you talking about?" I asked, shutting my locker door and walking to the cafeteria. "Plan on telling you what?"

"Quit sparing my feelings," Chase retorted, face red and eyes full of disbelief and hurt as he looked at me. "I know what's going on between you and—and him!"

I stopped, pausing mid-step to look at him. Chase couldn't possibly mean…

"You think Callan and I have a thing?" I gawked, nearly dropping to the floor in laughter. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

Chase fumed down at my bent over figure. "Is that how you take our relationship? Is everything I—you, especially—put in to this all one big joke for you to laugh at in the end?"

I immediately froze, nearly falling to the ground in shock. As soon as I right myself, chase is staring at me with an unreadable expression. We're gathering a crowd now—the same crowd that started this mess in the first place I bet.

"That's why you're always hanging out with him, right?" Chase said, hurt displaying over his gorgeous feature and taking over his brown eyes. "Was I just something to keep you entertained? Did I mean anything at all for these past months?"

"Of course you did!" I spluttered in a rant, throwing my hands up. "I put all my work in trying to keep us together! You should know by how I stood up against my dad! The helpers who were involved in that knew it too!" I swept my arm to the ground, seeing familiar helping faces as they watched the show in concern. "Callan was one of those people, so why would he 'try to go after me'?"

Like the universe hated me, the blond jock walked up to us, pushing us a farther distance apart as if Chase would lay a hand on me. But I didn't want to be away from Chase; the only thing that would have satisfied me at that moment was kissing all the doubt and hurt out of him, ignoring all the rumors that people have been spreading.

"What's going here?" Callan asked, dripping with concern and puzzlement at the same time.

The weirdest thing started happening. I knew Chase to be well self-controlled—not the type of person you can get angry easily—annoyed, yes, but never as infuriated as I saw him at that moment.

At first, I thought he would just explode (with his tomato red face and heaving chest, who wouldn't expect that?). But Chase did worse than that, catching me—or everyone, I couldn't be sure—by surprise as he stood up straighter, looking more intimidating and beastly. His intelligent chocolate eyes seemed to dissolve, steely gray ones falling into place. I back away cautiously, trying to put more distance in between me and whoever this stranger was; this was so not the Chase I knew.

I heard a gasp, just barely tearing my eyes away and seeing Bree push her way to the front of the ground, eyeing this boy in front of me frantically, shifting her body weight as she contemplated the scene we were making nervously.

It couldn't have been a mere second or two that I looked away from both the boys in front of me (two seconds too many). A flash of blond blurred before me as Callan fell to the floor with a thud, groaning in pain as he held one hand to his cheek.

"God!" I shrieked, falling to my knees beside him and peeling his hand away from his cheek. Cringing, I took note of how noticeably flushed and red Callan's cheek looked compared to the other one. "This is awful," I added distantly, being careful to mind the swelling as I gingerly poked it. Suddenly, I snapped my glare to the huffing figure above me. My eyes glowered at him; this was not Chase—this was a beast in Chase's body.

Bree once mentioned something like this imagined on occasion, but assured me that it would never happen because of me, probably over me. But I never thought that it would be both. And that it would get so…violent.

What was his name —Spine? Splint, maybe? The name wasn't coming to me.

"Do something," Bree hissed to Adam, dragging him to her side and manically pointing to whoever this (seriously out of hand) dude was.

Adam looked to us, gasping dramatically. "Hey, Spike's back! Someone should do something about that."

So Spike was his name…

Bree groaned out in frustration, "Of course Spike is back you idiot! Now get in there and do something useful."

The two continued bickering back and forth, Bree going as far as trying to push Adam into the center of the circle that was made around us three. She didn't get much progress done; Adam was twice as big as her and with his bionic strength, he might as well been rooted to that spot with tree root growing into the floor.

Resisting the urge to do a well-deserved face palm, I lugged Callan to his feet. I struggle to keep him up, seeing as he was leaning most of his body weight on me. Making sure he couldn't hear, I leaned close to this Spike dude. "Whoever you are, back off," I hissed with all the venom I could muster. "Get Chase back and do whatever you do when you're not screwing with other people's lives."

He let out a loud rumble that sounded like a gravelly growl combined with a laugh. "There's no fun in that plan, babe," he disagreed cockily. Then Spike leaned back, staring at me, as if driving in my image with a disapproving frown. "There's apparently no fun in you either," he added as an afterthought with an undertone of disgust.

I continued to glower at him, though something churned in my stomach more agitatedly than with anger. I blinked several times, wondering if my eyes flashed different colors; from brown to red, from red to blue. From happy to angry; from angry to sadness. It's moments likes these when I hate having eyes that change on my mood—it made it twice as difficult to hide what I don't want people to see. That's why when I stood, facing Spike (my boyfriend's worst, most hideous side), I felt absolutely sure—terrified yet sure, a horrid combination for trying to look strong—that he knew my every weakness.

And he knew it too.

"What's that supposed to me?" I asked, staring right into his cold empty eyes. My lips pressed tightly together, willing myself not to solve the obvious answer laid out before me. I didn't want the answer; I didn't want an answer from somebody who had the power to change what me and Chase had when he didn't mean the answer.

Spike smirked coldly, leaning close enough to have his breath push against my cheeks. It sent an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. I tried not to squirm too much, Callan still propping himself against me. It was a struggle to keep both of us from falling to the floor. "I think you know, babe," Spike hissed venomously, right into my ear, before pulling back sharply and curling his lips cruelly at me. "It's over."

Two words.

That's all it took to send the world spinning and bile climbing up my throat. My vision blurred with tears welling up in my eyes. All I remembered was running off, head down as I collapsed into the nearest girl's bathroom, banging into the first stall I could stumble into. My hands gripped the toilet, the ends of my hair touch the bowl as I waited, testing to see if I could manage sobbing and vomiting at the same time.

Different footfalls came in just a mere minutes after, several frantic voices calling out to me. I might have responded, I might have not—I couldn't be sure with the painful pound between my eyes and my heart lurching into my throat, again and again and again. Someone, pulled my hair back while another of hands patted my back and rubbed my shoulder.

It's over.

Bree's Pov

I'm speechless. So is everyone else, staring at the spot Christine had last been. I wanted to race after her with Rachel, Janelle, and Sammie, but thought of it. Seeing me wouldn't be good for her at the moment—seeing anything that reminded her of Chase would not be good for Christine in general.

"What was that?" I cried out loudly, punching whoever-in-the-same-body-as-my-brother in the shoulder. "You just ruined everything! Your first girlfriend, and you just dump her? I was this close to getting her to agree for me to be her maid of honor."

I couldn't tell if it was Spike or not (he didn't break my arm yet, so that was a good sign) but I angry at whoever it was. Because whoever just threw one of my best relationships—and there's too—down the drain just because they snapped with jealousy.

But my mind was telling me to look on the bright side: Maybe Chase could win her back.

Clamping my hand on his shoulder, I spun him around, his body no longer heaving and his eyes back to normal, darting around in alarm. "What just happened? And what do you mean dump her?"

Leo clapped sarcastically, adding an eye roll ass he scoffed, "Great job man, you ended your only relationship; you socked a jock in the jaw; and you've doomed yourself to permanent sadness for the rest of your high school years all before lunch. Just excellent."

Adam looked down at Leo in confusion. "Why are you clapping? That sounds awful."

Leo shook his head. "Don't strain yourself—you might pop a precious brain cell."

"I broke up Christine?" Chase squeaked out in horror, grabbing at his hair as he started pacing. The crowd had thinned, students eager to get to lunch and chat with their friends. But still seeing clumps of watching students, looking for some more drama—more ways to spread more rumors. I pulled him more to the side, near a set of lockers. "God, I'm a idiot," he kept muttering to himself, over and over again.

I would have corrected him if it hadn't been true.

"Technically, Spike is the idiot," Leo said thoughtfully, "But it's all the same." Suddenly his eyes widened in alarm, punching Chase in the shoulder. "Now thanks to you, Janelle gonna want nothing to do with me!" Huffing, he stormed off, dragging a confused and slightly dazed Adam behind him.

Chase sighed sadly as his face sagging as groaned, "What am I supposed to do now? Christine was the love of my life and my stupid bionic personality scared her away."

I just shrugged, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I've never been one for sympathy—especially toward Chase. He never needed it, and now that he did—he was turning both of us into a mess.

Whatever you do, you better do it. And quickly," I added, walking off.

And just when things were finally away from the drama.

Chase's Pov

At first things were abnormally blurry.

It took a second for the image to adjust, hazy and gauzy around the edges. But through it I see Christine—a slightly older, more beautiful Christine in a blinding white dress that dropped to the floor and skimmed her heels. Her hands gripped a lovely bouquet of pink and red roses; Christine hated pink.

She seemed to be looking right at me, smiling with gratitude and hope, eyes glimmering in happiness. But in another way, she was looking like through me, like how an actress looked directly at the camera and made it seem you were in the other person's shoes, staring right back at her.

But I had to be the person staring right back at her, beaming along as well as the priest read along to the book held. Both of us standing across from each other at the altar.

"Do you take Christine Annabelle Grant as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." I paused, mentally replaying the words just spoken in my head; they didn't sound right—fitting into my mouth wrong.

"And do you take Callan Louis Micheal as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Christine smiled, turning to the man in front of her that was no longer me. The image zoomed back, revealing Callan with his slicked back hair and tux as he stood there, all cocky and sure as he gazed at Christine.

I tried to protest; I tried screaming out and flailing my hands in the air, desperate to be noticed.

Just as Callan and Christine leaned in, lips nearly touching as her veil connected their faces, the horror show darkened, blackening to darkness as I fell, screaming all the way as I wriggled and squirmed. My body trapped together like being wrapped up in netting...

"...Jesus, just wake up already!"

I woke with start, my limbs trapped in my sheets as I laid out sprawled out on the floor. Sweat dripped down my face as I looked up at Bree and Leo. "What happened?"

Leo snorted. "What do you think genius? You had a scream fest in your sleep about how your doomed to be forever alone while Callan and Christine honeymoon."

"Way to be nice about it," Bree snapped, whacking his head. I noticed how her hair was sticking up and she more irritable that normal; she didn't like getting up early and this was no exception. Then she turned to me, hissing, "And nice way of keeping it down too. The only way we heard is because we don't snore loud enough to block our hearing."

"Thanks for the sympathy, Sis," I mumbled sarcastically, untangling myself and adjusting my body into a seated position on my bed. "And now I ruined the rest of my life with no way to fix and there's no way she's ever ever ever going to take me back—"

Something slapped me across the face, making painful contact with my cheek. "Snap out of it!" Leo cried, pulling his hand away.

"Thanks," I said, "I needed that."

Bree put her hands on her hips. "And it's not like your alone on this. You have us to help you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Leo protested with his hands up. "What makes you think I'm going to help repair his ruined love life?"

Bree raised her eyebrows. "Do you want Janelle back or not?"

Leo widened his eyes, turning to me with sudden enthusiasm. "How can I help?"

I know a lot of you were asking for some more Spike, so here it is! Do you think Christine and Chase are going to get back together? And should I have the next chapter in Christine or Rachel's Pov at the beginning?

Tell me in a lovely review, darlings.