Y'all are fantastic. While I voted repeatedly for iCarly, congrats to Victorious for their first win. Isn't it lovely?

"Just try to sleep, all right?" I asked, pulling the comforter over her small frame.

She squirmed and fidgeted under the sheets. "What's gonna happen to me?"

Beats me, kid. "You're gonna sleep."

"And what about when I wake up?" she asked.

I shrugged. "We won't know until you do."

She gave me an evil glare and rolled over onto her side. I smirked and stood up, walking towards the door. "You want this light on or off?"

"Off," she mumbled into the pillow.

I flicked down the switch and closed the door behind me as I exited. I didn't pester her for a 'please' this time. I slumped back into the living room, landing with a heavy thud on the couch next to Robbie.

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hey," he responded. "So this theory of yours… When does it get put into action?" he asked.

I smiled. "Still up to you."

"Well maybe I don't want it to be up to me," he said.

I sighed. "She just wants to go home. I don't even care about me anymore. I'm a hopeless case in this area. I've been here for almost a decade. I don't think I'm ever going back," I said glumly. I saw him shift to face me. "It's not too late for her, though. Not yet."

He propped his arm against the back of the couch and put his hand on his head. "What you said earlier."

I turned my eyes to meet his.

He continued. "About them almost being at a breaking point. What did you mean?"

"I just…" I pulled my legs up underneath me. "Beck and Jade… My dad and mom… They both are well aware that they love each other. They're obviously helpless without each other," I felt my voice wobbling. "And the closer they come to getting back together, then… Then the closer I am to going back home."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked.

"Of course," I answered quickly. "But now I have Skyla to think about." I looked down at my hands in my lap. "And you."

I could feel him moving closer to me. "What do you need to do to get her back?" he whispered.

I pivoted my head towards him. "Well. You and I would most likely have to have a romantic montage of some sort which ultimately makes us fall in love."

He let out a breath that he had obviously been holding in. He stood up and grabbed my arm, pulling me with him. "Let's start now, then."

I could feel his breath on my face. I smiled. "Isn't it too late for a romantic montage?"

"Oh, it's never too late for a romantic montage," he joked.

I nodded. "True true."

A moment later I felt his lips on mine again. I took this one minute to stop thinking about my mother and father. Not only were they the biggest hot messes to ever walk the planet, maybe behind me, it was also very disturbing to think about my parents while I am having a romantic montage with the guy I may or may not be in love with.

As he pulled away and started walking towards the kitchen, I realized that he still had a grip on my wrist. I tripped over my own feet and almost came tumbling to the hard wood ground. He pulled me back up before the worst happened. I started to feel like a ragdoll with all the flipping and flopping I'd gone through today.

"Ya know, it's not gonna be a very effective romantic montage if you're gonna spend it on the floor," he said.

"It's not gonna be a very effective romantic montage if you keep bringing up the fact that it's a romantic montage," I joked.

"Say it again," he said.

"Say what?"

"Romantic montage."

"Romantic montage."

He smirked and I could feel the all-too-familiar giggle forming in the back of my throat. I soon let it out when I realized the stupidity of the current conversation. He led me to the barstools lining the granite countertop. He crossed to the other side and set a large glass container of orange puffs in front of me.

I smirked and unscrewed the lid. I popped one of the edible delicacies in my mouth. "Cheese puffs, my, how charming."

"Oh, don't give me that," he begged.

I raised my eyebrows in response. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he took one of the snacks for himself. "I woke up this morning single and childless. I didn't prepare for a romantic montage."

"You and me both," I replied smoothly.

Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows.

At precisely 1:13 o'clock on a very early Tuesday morning, I was fully in love with Robbie Shapiro. After various musical and dance adventures varying from hoedowns to 1950s jitterbugs; and a fine cuisine of corn chips and hot sauce, I'd had the full romantic montage experience.

Before then, at 1:00 o'clock, Robbie had sat back down on the couch, wrapping his arms around me. We had been entertaining ourselves with the Shapiro's extensive collection of romantic comedies on DVDs. And as I watched Henry Roth spy Lucy Whitmore building her advanced house of waffles, I felt his breath on my neck, moving towards my ear.

"I love you."

I tilted my head back, leaning on his shoulder. My smile slowly stretched into a grin. My next words were supposedly important, but at the time they came naturally.

"I love you too."

He didn't attempt to mask his smile. "How was it that most romantic montages end?"

"Hmm," I mused. "Refresh my memory."

As soon as I felt his lips come down on mine is when I heard the screaming.

*Does the troll dance* And a cliff hanger to you, too!