Second to last chapter! Who else is excited?

I'm also excited for many other reasons. Like for one, I just downloaded two new Taylor Swift singles. That can make anyone happy, but day in general has been a good day.

You know that feeling you get when you're letting something go, but you still have plenty of ideas for it? That's how I feel about FL (ending next week). But I think we'll find a way to jam all my idea for it into the sequel somehow.

Christine's Pov

The first thing that popped into my head was, "dude, what happened to your clothes?"

Bree shrugged, reaching up to tighten her ponytail. "Tasha's behind on laundry. I'm wearing Adam's shirt, Chase's pants"—she leaned closer, raising her eyebrows—"and you don't even want to know whose underwear I have on."

"Lemme guess, Leo's?"

She looked at me. "How did you know?"

I pointed at her waistband. "I saw the Spiderman logo on the waistband."

Bree shrugged again. "It was that kind of day, you know?"

"Not really."

"Rhetorical question, dude."

I sighed, checking my phone. "It's ten to; I gotta go."

Bree and I said our good-byes and I logged off of Skype, dragging my body to my closet. What do you wear when you go to court and your enemy is your mother? Or just to court in general? I was just going to be in the benches supporting Dad, maybe speaking as a witness. Rachel would be there too, her mom volunteering as Dad's lawyer—free of charge.

Groaning in frustration, I grabbed my white V-neck, gray blazer, and navy blue skinny jeans with my old ballet flats I haven't pulled out in forever. It was a miracle they still fit because I don't think my favorite combat boots would make much of a professional impression on the judge and jury.

My stomach, growling, I hurried downstairs and shined an apple on my sleeve before taking a huge bite. I winced—too mushy for my liking, but I finished it anyway. Throwing the core away and gulping down a large glass of apple juice anxiously, I sat on the couch, foot tapping impatiently the entire time. I've never been much of a waiter, especially with something so serious like this.

Dad was taking too long. I heard him fumbling with different stuff in his office. He messed with things when he was nervous like I became an organized freak when suffering from too much anxiety—he's where I get it from.

Rem wasn't in sight, which was weird. I think it might've been that week in the year where Dad shut her off, setting her with fresh batteries and wiring. I knew it was helping Rem and making her more fit for helping out and being there, but I really needed her right now; the whole "battery set-up" could've waited a day later.

I checked my phone again. 2:45. We're going to be late. Dad was tinkering with whatever, knowing just as well as I did that he was delaying seeing her again. I couldn't blame him; I was hoping to avoid her at all costs too.

But If I had to face her too, so did he.

I was happy that Rachel had decided for the whole blazer look too. I didn't feel so out of place and small. Dad seemed especially fidgety, messing with his tie and playing with the cuffs on his suit constantly. But I had to admit, he cleaned up nice.

The first cut is the deepest.

Lately, that song played on replay in my head. In a way, it always made me think about my parents. The first cut when she ditched us for fame. Dad never tried to love again. But I couldn't say that his luck was cursed, because despite moving around place to place, we had a system going. And we were happy.

This whole court thing was a bit pathetic on Maria's part; just another cut she wanted inflect on Dad's life because it was okay again. But several cuts would never be as deep as the first one.

Rachel slid into place beside me and gave me hand a squeeze. "How you holding up?" she whispered, the judge proceeding to talk.

Maria was a pitiful sight to see—all fake tears and pre-written sob stories on how "he jerked me out of her life" when I doubted the people even knew how big a lair she was. That's another thing: it sucks how celebrities can switch in and out of acting mode while leaving their lame opponents in the dust.

Everything sounded so fuzzy and unreal as I stared ahead. I never let go of Rachel's hand. I feared that if I did, I would unravel at a dangerously fast pace. Her mother continued to talk, defending to the end. As much as I appreciated their efforts, we were admittedly losing fast.

It's hard to say you're fearless without it sounding like bragging unless someone agrees with you. I should know because I tried to many times on several occasions to prove so without anyone's support on the subject. But at that moment, walking up to state my sayings as a witness, I was terrified and didn't even try to hide it.

I needed Chase. I wanted him to kiss me, hold me, distract from all the bad things happening around me, exploding like it was a hurricane and I was placed in the eye of the storm, watching all my surroundings be wrecked on their peaceful state. But he wasn't here despite my endless begging efforts with Davenport to let him skip training just this once. It was miracle that he even let me come. A huge part of me was dreading that he did; the smaller annoying-but-right part of me knew it was time to put on a brave face.

I really hated that part of me right now.

Rachel gave me a smile and thumbs up from her seat, meeting my eyes and sensing my panic. Dad looked no better than I did as he messed with his tie and suit. Maria looked at us in triumph; our nervousness is defeat in her eyes. It sickened me to think I ever came from someone as cruel as her.

Playing victim; claiming to do what was "best" for her "daughter"; sickened me like nothing before. Something surged through my veins-my advanced anger was picking up and I didn't want to stop it. So I didn't. Maria had no idea what I could do-I wasn't about to warn her either.

I'm gone. Or at least that's what I remember happening. Along with learning about my increased emotions toward certain things I already had slightly more sensitive feelings in many situations. I started saying a lot of stuff too calmly, staring straight ahead with my jaw set and anger coursing fiercely through me.

I didn't show it. I sat there, all clenched jaw, white fists in my lap, and daggers sent right at Maria. I still thought of the opera witches with their smug icy looks and sour, heartless attitudes. Keeping my thoughts focused on that—anger coming from my imagination of flying green witches screeching as they flew around the opera theatre. They used to give me nightmares; it's sad I just now realized that the main character was a real life nightmare.

"You were amazing!" Rachel cheered outside the court house. She was smiling—I guess that meant we won. I'm not ashamed to admit I kind of buzzed out the rest of what happened after I was dismissed from the witness stand. Everything went by in a dreamlike state.

I smiled slightly. "Thanks, it was nothing."

She frowned, stepping closer and smacking her hand against my forehead. "You okay, solider? Shouldn't you be a bit more excited about this? I mean, you defeated your worst enemy—a lot of people would kill for that feeling." Rachel winked, bumping our hips together when she added, "literally."

"Haha," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Very funny." Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and yawned. "Did I look zoned out to you up there?"

Rachel nodded like she had been thinking about it all along but didn't know how to flat out question me about it without sounding blunt. "Yeah; why were you zoned out again?"

I shrugged, kicking at an ant hill. "You guess is as good as mine." That was a lie—the truth at the same time. I knew why I was so mad, but I didn't know why. I could've spent all these years being as mad, angered, and frustrated as I wanted to but didn't. But today, I did. So really, Rachel's guess was as good as mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked as Rachel took out her phone and started typing away, smiling as she did so.

"Well," she began, snapping her phone shut, "we can't just stay her bored while the adults mingle; we're going to celebrate!"

This is so short I don't even know what to say. The epilogue (next chapter) will be even shorter. But please review and tell me what you thought about Maria and the whole court fiasco and everything.

P.S. Can anyone tell me where I got the idea of Bree wearing the boys' clothes from? You'll get a shout out if you guess right.