Disclaimer: It appears that no one's going to help me in this area.

Review even if you don't have an account. Or don't. I'm a document, not a cop. I would've uploaded this sooner, but fanfiction has trouble being smart. I was okay when it wouldn't let me see the stats, but not letting me upload? TOO FAR.

"Jade!" I latched on to her leg as she attempted to walk by.

"What?" she snarled at me.

I stood up and smoothed down my dress. "Where have you been, I've been looking for you all day!"

"I don't know, Cat," she replied sarcastically. "Maybe I was leaving you like I leave everyone else."

"Jade, I'm sorry that I said that," I said quietly.

"Oh, really?" she reached into her bag. "Because the random eighteen dollars I found in my locker wasn't enough?"

"Hey, those eighteen dollars are anything but random! They're worth like… Eighteen dollars!" I exclaimed.

I spent eighteen dollars on that gift.

"Whoop-dee-do. That still doesn't change the fact that you embarrassed me in front of…"

"Yourself?" I interrupted.

"YES!" she yelled and started to walk off again.

"No!" I threw myself on the floor and latched on to her ankle again.

"Cat, I swear to God…" she started, only to be interrupted by André.

"Hola, muchachas," he greeted, unlocking his locker with an intricate measure of notes.

He turned around and really took in the scene for the first time. "Why's there a Cat on the floor?" he questioned.

"Because maybe Cats like being on the floor!" momma snapped at him.

"They really don't," I added quietly.

Momma suddenly yanked me up from my elbow. I was extremely lucky I didn't bruise easily. I'm sure it would've been a problem at around this time.

"What do you want, Cat?" she yelled. "You already told me everything I didn't wanna know!"

"What's goin' on?" André asked.

Momma quickly stepped in. "Cat has decided that she knows everything," she said, finally releasing my arm.

"Cat? You mean this one right here?" André looked at me for a moment and then started laughing. "That's a good one," were his last words as he walked off.

That was hurtful.

Momma started to walk away. I ripped off my heels and ran in front of her. Once I was a reasonable amount ahead of her, I started walking backwards so we could talk face-to-face.

"Please go get hit by a bus," she said smoothly, continuing to walk forward.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you…" she looked at me and unofficially closed the topic. "Forget it."

"No…" I whined. "Why do you want me to get hit by a bus?"

"Because you think you know absolutely everything and the fact of the matter is you don't. You're the closest thing I have to a friend right now and you seem to want to blow that for me. You think you know everything about me and you don't. In fact, I don't think you even know my middle name," she said, finally stopping at her locker.

"Elizabeth," I answered.

"Lucky guess," she replied, opening the gray metal door.

"You are my best friend and I do know everything about you. Or at least more than you think," I corrected.

She slammed the locker shut. "What's my favorite color?"

"Black."

"What's my dream job?"

"Professional actor."

"What's my mom's name?"

"Hannah."

"What was the name of my stuffed dog when I was little? I only had it for two days and he was my best friend until my brother ran it through a shredder," she asked.

Oh come on, no fair! "I don' t know," I replied quietly.

"HA!" she pointed her finger at me, like all the other answers I got right were cancelled out by that one question.

I leaned over her shoulder and whispered into her ear. "I may not know what your stuffed dog's name used to be," I paused. "But I know who you love."

I finished and walked away, leaving the final parent self-conscious. Score for Cat.

I rounded the corner without looking back and walked outside to Festus's truck. I ordered his goat cheese pizza. He says that the goats were imported from Maine especially for us.

As I approached my usual table, I felt the back of my shirt being tugged on. I turned around and didn't see anything. I then felt the tugging again and looked down. It was a little girl. I knelt down to her level.

"Hi, sweetie, how'd you get over here?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, but didn't talk to me. Her brunette ponytail whipped as a gust of air blew through.

"Are you from the preschool next door?" I asked again.

It was probably true. They wander off the playground to here all the time.

She shook her head no.

"No?" Well, this was unusual. "What's your name, Hun?"

She crinkled her nose. "What's yours?" she snobbed at me.

I held out my hand in a pretend business-like manner. "I'm Cat, pleased to meet ya."

I withdrew my hand as she giggled. "I'm Skyla."

"That's a beautiful name, buddy," I complimented, readjusting so I was more comfortable on my knees. "Where are your parents?" I asked again.

"I don't know!" she cried.

"It's okay, it's okay, we'll find 'em," I comforted.

Only wish I could do the same with mine.