Thanks for all the lovely reviews. And if you are a fan of reading more than just this story from me, I have some writing news.

Three new one-shots: Mr. Young, Kickin' It, and Pair of Kings. I'm debating whether or not to focus on another Bree/Chase story.

And also, the deadline for FL is by the week of Halloween. And the official date of Long Live (sequel) is by the middle of November (second or third week, depending on when I finish FL). Just thought you should know.

Christine's Pov

I loved Rachel to death, but she was absolutely horrible at making the first move. Or, at least that's what I've heard from Sammie and Ashley. Even Trina thought so. So naturally, it was only my duty as her best friend to help her with her "situation" with Adam.

"Are you one hundred percent positive that she like-likes Adam, though?" Bree asked, staring at me with raised eyebrows and crossed arms. Clearly, she didn't find it possible for Adam to be appealing once girls got past his looks.

Wasn't that just grand?

I nodded. "Positive. Have you seen the goo-goo eyes she's been giving him lately?"

"Sure, and I also saw a couple flocks of pigs fly by."

"Can you try and not be so negative about this?"

"Maybe if it was another guy; I mean, I already have one best friend dating one of my brothers. I don't need two!"

I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head at her. "You really need to let that go."

Bree mimicked me mockingly. "Not even on your wedding day, babe."

Ignoring her, I focused on my blank sheet of notebook paper in front of me instead of my pretzel. "Can you just help me? Pretty please?" I added pleadingly, looking at her with a begging expression. Fun Fact: Dad always said I was good at those (unfortunately, he would add.)

Bree sighed, and I mentally cheered as she caved. "Fine, but don't expect me to be so honky dory about double the make-out sessions I'll be surrounded by."

"Who says honky dory?"

"You just did."

I squint at her saying, "Touché, my friend, touché indeed."

After I finished this business with Rachel and Adam, I had got to get Bree a man.

I stood in front of Adam at the Davenports' house, clipboard in my hands as I stared him down sternly. This afternoon would be all business. And since everything with Adam is always a bit…slow, this was going to be a long afternoon.

"So remember, her favorite places to shop are anywhere that have heels, colorful dresses, and sell Twilight and Hunger Games merchandise," I concluded, giving Adam a look, "any questions?"

"Why does she like cows?" Adam asked curiously.

I groaned, my hands itching to go up to the top of my head and pull out my hair. "How and when did you get cows out of a single thing I just said?" I asked impatiently. "That's why I'd like to know."

Adam shrugged, saying, "This whole extra school work would be a lot more fun if it included cows." He shot up in his seat, eyes suddenly looking bright, "oh, or maybe a pig!"

I sighed. This was getting nowhere. I would have to question Rachel on her outlook on Adam. Despite his looks and undeniable pull of attraction, what was there once you looked past all that, a childish, farm animal loving lug nut?

"No offense, but why are you still here?" Chase asked, coming into the room with what looked like sneakers.

I furrowed my eyebrows, but shrugged and looked down at my clipboard. "Yeah, like that's every girlfriend's favorite response," I replied sarcastically, my heart only half in the teasing. I never realized how tiring it would be to tutor somebody on dating—especially when that somebody was Adam.

Chase laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist. I leaned into him, sighing. "This is hopeless," I whispered to him. Adam started playing with a throw pillow by punching it. "It's like teaching walls mathematics."

"Rachel could get better if she tried," Chase agreed, watching Adam with me, "if not better looking, at least someone with a higher GPA."

"Would he even know what GPA is?"

He shook his head, "Probably not."

As petty as it was to pick on Adam—with him sitting only a mere feet away—it helped calmed my nerves.

Along with the weight of getting two of my closest friends together (excluding the stress with finding about close friend a flirtationship with someone), Dad was counting on me to help with some stuff he couldn't do. Maria thought the perfect way to ruin my life would be to challenge Dad in court.

Like I said, wasn't that just grand?

Speaking of time…

"Oh crap!" I peeled myself away from Chase, scrambling to yank my phone out of my pocket. "What time is it?" I didn't want an answer.

"Shouldn't you know?" Adam asked clueless. "You have a phone?" Thanks for the obvious, Adam.

I cursed under my breath, running my hand through my hair and putting my phone away again. "I gotta go. I promised my dad I'd get some things done half an hour ago!" Quickly kissing Chase on the cheek and waving hurriedly to Adam, I rushed out the door.

The sky had gotten darker than it had been after school. Gray clouds rolling with only brief white patchy clouds left. Rain seemed to be setting in, the dark puffs near exploding. Just great walking weather is my only thought on all this; I had no time to complain or I'd be later than I was.

"Crap, crap, triple crap," I muttered angrily, marching down aisle after aisle and grabbing the things I needed from the shelves and into my basket. You can only imagine how many angry moms were staring me down in the line as I continued chewing myself out for getting off schedule. Rem might kill me—Dad would show no mercy if he didn't, and the whole 'Maria' chizz was making everything worse.

One would think seeing my mom would've been the happiest moment of my life. When I was ten or eleven, that's what I thought too: daydreaming of grocery shopping and teasing Dad behind his back (maybe even to his face sometimes).

By the time I got home, the wind had gotten heavy enough to freeze my bones to the point of numbness, only thawed by my bitterness at this week. Sure, I got my boyfriend back and one of my best friends was my best friend again. And hey, I found a penny on the sidewalk yesterday—nothing ever stayed good for too long. Trust me.

"Would you just chill?" Rachel snorted from the other line. I glared at the phone. My fingers shaking, I ran them through my hair—frizzy and knotted, thanks Mother Nature—and started putting things into their respectful places. "Mom's got this."

I sighed, knowing she was right. But after spending (most of) my entire life "chilling" on a lot of things, I wasn't good with these situations. My family never had to deal with them and freaking out seemed fine to me.

"Whatever," I mumbled, "I just want this over with." And crawl into my bed, planning how to set you up with the love of your life, I added on silently, itching for my notebook to think of some more missions that could possibly work. Since Rachel was my go-to gal for everything I did, I only had five (six if you count how desperate I was to half-include Leo on this) people to help. This was all new match-made-in-heaven territory for me.

And to think I'll have to go through all of this with Bree and her to-be-hubby. I mentally groaned at the thought, slamming my head onto the counter. With all my buzzing thoughts, I hardly even notice the dull pain throbbing a second after. I don't bother to lift my head.

"I see someone's in a mood," a voice teased lightly as they whirred closer.

I sighed and didn't look up at Rem to know she was there. I probably should've since I knew that Rem hated conversing with people and having them look anywhere but at her. "I'm just tired, that's all. This is all new to me." And to her, too, but I bet she knew that as well as I did.

"I understand that," Rem hummed in agreement, "your father isn't doing much better, if that helps."

It really didn't but I didn't tell her that because Rem knew that. Rem knew a lot of things. If I was doing so terrible, I could only imagine how horrible my Dad was doing.

In a way, I couldn't even do that either. Dad hadn't come out of his office—lab, whichever—at least when I was around.

Times like these it sucked when looking like my mother. Dad closed off and never let me in, all because of what she did to him—what she's doing to us.

Dinner I fend for myself as El would say whenever she had to cook herself instead of someone else doing it. Chef's creation: Easy mac and a cut up hot dog—yum.

I ate in my room and left my bowl on my bedside table, not able to focus on my homework. Not able to look at the three sheets of French verbs and History notes unless I was fascinated in exploding. I considered the idea; exploding meant not being here and dealing with all this. But leaving this mess would me leaving Dad behind to pick up the pieces and even the cruelest person on this Earth wouldn't think of doing that to a man that stressed.

Unless that cruelest person in the world was Maria.

When I was little, my Dad used to tell me a bunch of stories about opera witches sucking the life out of the weak and used. "Once she'd squeeze all the life out of them, there was nothing left to take," he'd say every time he ended a different witch story. Back then I had no idea what he had been referring to (even with I was little I knew his little tales had truth to them), but it became clearer once I figured out my mother abandoned us—her family, her only daughter (to my knowledge)—for what, fame and a name? Couldn't she have both? Or was she really selfish enough to think that being rich was better than a happy family she threw away the chance of having?

Only one answer came to mind: Unbelievable.

I'm just about to drag my body to my dresser and throw on some clothes when my phone bleated at my desk. Groaning, I trudged over and grimaced at the ID.

I didn't want to speak with him. Not now, not ever. I knew I couldn't avoid the subject forever (celebrities always found a way to get what they want—always), but right now was not the time to be bringing it up.

I couldn't deal with Hunter right now.

Sighing, I press ignore and flop back onto the bed.

Was being a teenager with only one parent supposed to be this depressing?

Okay, so this is like half the amount of a chapter I would usually write, but if I want to make it to 31 chapters, they're going to be shorter than usual.

Review and tell me if you know what the story ending will be. Or if you don't, review anyway. :D