"So," Rhenda pushed as soon as I walked through the door. "How'd it go?" My mind flickered back to hanging upside-down on the swings, my underwear fully exposed.

"It was…an experience," I shrugged.

"Is that all?" Rhenda pressed. I thought for a minute, and then nodded.

"Pretty much."

"LIAR!" she shouted. She tackled me to the couch.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" I screamed indignantly. "What gives?!"

"I got Mr. Barrossa to trail you on your date…"

"WAIT A MINUTE!" I interrupted. "Date? Since when was hanging out with friends a 'date?'"

"Since 'hanging out' became 'hanging out with four humans of the opposite sex.' Don't cut me off like that," Rhenda huffed. "I had Mr. Barrossa trail you and he said that you got pretty cozy with one of the guys." My mind raced to try to find what in the world she was talking about. Suddenly, it hit me!

"OH!" I shouted. "No, no, no, no, no. I just got tangled up in the swing set trying to get the other boy out." Rhenda looked puzzled.

"Tangled in the swing?" she asked in disbelief. "I'm supposed to believe that?" I nodded.

"Yup."

"Pathetic, but…I guess it's good for now," Rhenda shrugged. She was just about to walk away from me when something else hit me.

"Rhenda Emilia Sullivan," I grumbled, "you had someone stalk me?" Rhenda slowly turned on her heel and grinned at me innocently.

"Not 'stalk,' my dear," she giggled nervously. "'Follow to make sure everything was shipshape.'"

"Same thing!" I exploded. "I swear, girl, you go overboard way too often." Even though I was mad, it was hard to stay that way when Rhenda was my opponent. We were soon laughing so hard I was choking on my own spit and she was holding her sides in joyful agony. When we had calmed down, Rhenda took a deep breath.

"So when are you going to see them again?" she asked nonchalantly.

"How am I supposed to know that?" I asked back.

"I dunno," Rhenda shrugged. "Didn't they ask you out again or something?"

"No," I sighed. "Though, I had such a fun time with them at the park, I sure wouldn't refuse to hang out again."

Just then, the phone rang. I made a quick grab for it before Rhenda could scoop it up for herself. After her little episode yesterday, I was determined to always keep the phone from her.

"Hello? Reggina Sullivan here."

"Hey, Reggina," Mike chirped. "How're you doin'?"

"Great!" I grinned. "How 'bout you?"

"Fine, fine," Mike shrugged. "Nothing much happening right now. I have Peter, Davy, and Micky doing the dishes, actually." There was a clatter in the background.

"Micky, you klutz!" I heard a familiar British accent panic in the background.

"Stop it!" Mike shouted. "I'm on the phone with Reggina." There was an awkward pause as Davy started to chuckle.

"Why don't you give the phone to Micky? I'm sure he would love to talk to Reggina!" Davy snorted. "Isn't that right, Micky?"

"You're being kind of mean lately, Davy," Peter pointed out. "Is there something wrong? Something you want to talk about?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Davy chortled. "I just figured…" Davy was awkwardly cut off by a scuffling sound. Davy shouted angrily.

"GUYS!" Mike shouted loudly. "I AM ON THE PHONE!"

"You sure have an interesting household, Mike," I giggled.

"Don't remind me," Mike grimaced.

"Hey," I thought out loud. "You invited me to hang out with you yesterday. Why don't you guys come and hang out at Barrossa's Bar today while I'm rehearsing?"

"Let me ask the boys," Mike grinned. "GUYS! STOP HAVING A MINI-WRESTLING CHAMPIONSHIP SO I CAN ASK YOU SOMETHING!" There was another big crash. But this was followed by silence. "Reggina asked if we want to come watch her rehearse today."

"Rehearse what?" Peter asked.

"Her act, you twit," Davy sulked. Obviously, he wasn't too happy about being cut off before.

"Oh," Peter shrugged. "Just asking. No need to get touchy."

"We'll be there," Mike sighed.

"Great," I grinned. "See you!"

(-)(-)(-)

"Is this really necessary?" I asked Mr. Barrossa as he fixed some lights on the stage. He looked at me, almost surprised I could ask such a question.

"Of course it's necessary, Redge!" he exclaimed. "You can't make progress without a bit of change!" He flipped a switch and green light covered the whole stage.

"But…why green?" I asked.

"Because. Green is a good color," Mr. Barrossa shrugged. I looked over at the table where the boys were sitting and cocked my head, giving them a Can-You-Believe-This-Guy look. They shrugged in unison.

"Whatever you say, boss," I shook my head. As I sang through my act, the green lights kept changing shades. It was very distracting and I could barely keep my mind focused on the music and lyrics. "OKAY, STOP THE MADNESS!" I shouted finally. The music came to a sour halt. The light kept changing.

"What's the matter, Redge?" Mr. Barrossa asked.

"I feel like I'm in a lava lamp," I grimaced. "Not to be a diva, but this is really distracting."

"You are totally right, Redge," Mr. Barrossa sighed after a long pause. "Take five. I'll fix it up." I waved in thanks before walking offstage to see the boys.

"So," I smiled, "how's it look from down here?"

"Simply astonishing," Mike grinned. He scooted a chair out for me and I sat down. Taking five was definitely one of my favorite activities at present. I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on the table. (This time I was wearing my rehearsal bell-bottom pants so there wasn't an underwear disaster.)

"Glad you thought so," I smirked. "I have to say, though…Green lights? Really, boss? Not to be rude, but isn't that a little overboard?" The boys chuckled in agreement.

"Better than red," Davy pointed out. "That'd be really distracting…for both you and the audience." I looked at him, still getting that feeling that he was undermining me. I dismissed it as being a figment of my wild imagination.

"What'd you think about it, Mick?" Mike asked, turning to Micky. Micky looked up from his glass of water. He looked startled, and that look quickly turned to panic. He bit his lip before grinning at me and nodding. "Can I talk to you for a sec?" Mike said, pulling Micky up from his seat. They walked off toward the bathroom.

"What's with them?" I asked.

"Nothing," Peter shrugged. "Micky's just being weird today."

"Ah," I nodded, not quite understanding it all.

"Redge!" Mr. Barrossa called. "Can we get you back onstage, please?"

"No problem," I grinned. Taking five always cleared my head and made me ready to get back to work. I climbed back up onstage and got ready to sing. I had just opened my mouth when a blast of green, orange, blue, purple, and pink light almost knocked me on my butt. "WHAT IN THE NAME…" I screamed. I covered my eyes.

"What's the matter, Redge?" Mr. Barrossa asked, hurrying down from the light booth to the house.

"What did you do to the lights?" I managed while trying to blink the colors from my memory.

"Change, baby," Mr. Barrossa shrugged. "Can't make progress without it. I've always said that, haven't I?"

"Yes," I agreed, "but that doesn't apply when lights practically knock you out!" As if they heard me, one of the giant stage lights came loose and fell toward the front of the stage. Luckily, no one got hurt. Mr. Barrossa yelped and Micky (who had now returned to the table with Mike) shrieked a little. "See?!" I shouted, pointing to the light. "A sign!"

"Okay! Okay!" Mr. Barrossa finally gave in. "I'll go back to your original lighting!"

"Thank you!" I shouted, annoyed.