Hiya peeps! Crystal here! I'm really happy with how the reviews and all are going with this story. Thank you to everyone that favorited, followed, reviewed, and PMed me about this story.

Okay, you guys, I honestly hate to ask for reviews, because I sound desperate. But reviews means motivation for me to move on with the story. So please review if you can.

Every single review, favorite or follow I get in my email makes my day.

Thank you to:

Avril Lambert, Sultal, and NarikoTheShadow for reviewing! Thank you, sultal, for your encouraging PMs, and NarikoTheShadow for the extra encouragement.

And Avril Lambert: thank you SOOOO MUCH for reviewing for every single chapter! I'm looking forward to reading your new fanfic. Oh, and Dani Spark is just an OC. But she's loosely based on one of my cousins.

Also, thank you to all the others that reviewed that I did not thank yet:

Skinnydip Queen

Ariana Grande

ALIVEANDFREE-Yeah, lingerie is a British word, but I thought it would perfectly fit what you would imagine Jasmine wearing 24/7.

Kieran-thanks gurrl and can't wait for Spring Break!

Insomniac-thanks for reviewing for every single chapter!

RoyalsByLorde: Hey, love that song! And you reviewed for Midnight too. I remember. Thx for the support hon!

Ratchetkay: Your review made my day.

Winkster: Yeah, this is JimXWendy. And I had a lot of fight scenes in Last Dance. I'll try to fit some in here as well. Glad you enjoyed.

Wurly Bird

Enjoy the chapter, you guys! BTW, just a sidenote, this chapter explains a HECK OF A LOT about Gaston Abinford.

Gaston isn't that bad—once you get to know him. And if he still seems bad to you, you still don't know him.

-Jim

Jim just stared in shock at Wendy.

She quickly pulled away, staring at Jim. Her lips had been on his for a fraction of a second, and in the dark he knew her face was burning. His was too. He barely had time to think and react as Wendy's hand flew to her mouth, as if to ask herself if she had really kissed Jim right there.

"Sorry," she muttered and scrambled off the bed, walking to the window. Glancing quickly at Jim's face, she turned to face the window.

Jim just sat on the bed, staring at the wall for a while, backtracking a few seconds ago to when Wendy's lips had stayed on his. She had kissed him.

Jim finally got out of bed and stood behind Wendy, touching her shoulder lightly with his hand.

Wendy jumped, then turned, a little surprised. "I'm really sorry, Jim," she whispered. "I don't know why I—"

Jim cut her off. "It's okay." He leaned forward and kissed her gently. Wendy's eyes widened, but she sat blankly, not kissing back.

Jim pulled away. "What's the matter? I thought you wanted to."
Wendy shook her head. "I thought you didn't want to."
Jim gave her a tiny smile. "I just kissed you, didn't I? Would I have done that if I didn't want to?"

Without a single response, Wendy leaned forward and pressed her lips onto Jim's. For a while, it was just the little moans they made as they kissed, and Jim twisted Wendy against the wall, holding her in place with his muscled arms. She smiled through the kiss, and Jim tugged eagerly at her lips. Wendy shoved him away, laughing, and ran to the bed. Jim caught her by the waist and she lay on the bed as he leaned over her, kissing downwards. She pushed the heels of her hands into his collarbone. Jim traced the outline of Wendy's full lips with his tongue. They tasted of strawberries and desire.

At last, Wendy turned her head to the side, and Jim flopped next to her, both of them panting. Wendy fell off the bed onto the carpet. Jim leaned over the edge of her bed, letting his fingers skim the side of her face. "You okay?"
Wendy nodded, breathless, rolling onto her back. "I'm fine." She got to her feet and crawled into Jim's lap, pulling the covers around them with a little exhale, resting her head on Jim's shoulder.

She wrapped her arms tightly around Jim's' middle. "You know, I didn't actually know."
Jim rested his chin on the top of Wendy's hair. "Didn't know what?"
"That you cared."
Confused, Jim looked down at her. "About what?"
"About anything."
Jim sighed. "I guess I rub off as a little depressing, huh?"

Wendy shook her head rapidly. "No, no. I mean, yeah, but it seems like you don't care about anything or anyone, and you'll just roll with the punches, take what comes along."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's me. Mr. Don't Care About Anyone."
"You ever had a girlfriend before?"
Jim looked at Wendy. "Yeah."

"Did you care about her?"

Jim scratched the back of his head. "Can we change the subject? I'm not comfortable with—"

"Did you?" Wendy became insistent.

Jim frowned. "Wendy, stop it. I care. About you."

Wendy smiled and ran her fingertips over his sleek jawline. "Show me you care. Prove it to me."

"You don't believe me." Jim gave her a sad sort of smile.

Wendy's smile faded. "Please don't be mad. Of course I believe you."
Jim pecked her on the mouth. "I'll prove it, Wen. Now let's talk about something else."

Wendy nodded. "Gaston."
Once again, Jim was taken aback. "Huh?"
"He beat you up. Right?"
Jim looked up at the ceiling.

"How did you end up being friends with a jackass like him?"

Jim was still silent. He let his eyes drift down to Wendy's eyes. "It's a long story and it's late."
Wendy tugged on his shirt collar. "I want to hear it."
Jim bit his lip, then finally leaned back against the headboard of Wendy's bed. "It was in fifth grade. We had to do this dumb project…"

"Okay, kids!" chirped Mrs. Harrigan, the teacher of Jim's fifth grade class. "I'll call each of you, and you will come up and read your special piece."
Every student was assigned to to write a special piece about his or her father and then read it out loud on Father's Day at school in front of their class.

Jim endured ten long painful minutes of:
"My dad is a doctor!"
"My dad is a mechanical engineer!"
"My dad owns a golf course!"

"My dad is the president of the school PTO!"
"How 'bout Ariel?" Mrs. Harrigan asked, gesturing to the sweet girl in the back, wearing a purple t-shirt and green shorts, her fluffy red hair in a cute ponytail. She flounced to the front of the room, carrying a pink piece of paper.

"My daddy is a businessman. He goes to faraway exotic places like Australia, Prague, and France. Like last week he went to India and bought me and my sisters gold bracelets."
Mrs. Harrigan beamed. "Thank you, Ariel! Next, how about Jim?"

Jim got up and walked briskly past Ariel without his paper, and stood in the front. Mrs. Harrigan crossed her legs. Too angry to look at her, Jim turned his face sharply to the left side, and stared at the metal doorknob. He opened his mouth, rage making his limbs quake.

"I don't have a dad. But dads suck anyway so it doesn't matter."

Jim walked back to his desk and sat down, yanking his chair back so hard it hit the kid sitting behind him. He put his forehead down on the smooth wood of his desk.

Time passed, and some more kids went up, prattling about their dads.

"Gaston? Gaston Abinford?" asked Mrs. Harrigan, waving at him.

Gaston Abinford—the school bully. No one knew anything about his family—or him, for that matter.

Jim heard his heavy footsteps, and then a long silence.

He lifted his head to see what was the matter—and realized Gaston was looking directly at him.

Then suddenly Gaston turned his head sharply to the left side, copying Jim, and spoke in a monotone: "I don't have a dad either. And nobody in this town needs one anyway. 'Cuz they SUCK."

Shocked, Mrs. Harrigan stood. "Mr. Abinford and Mr. Hawkins, get out of my classroom. You won't be participating in our Father's Day activities today."
"I don't care!" Gaston said bravely. "You and the people who invented Father's Day can go to hell!"

Two minutes later, they were both sitting outside on the floor, the closed room seperating them from their peers like a great wall.

Gaston nudged Jim's arm. "Did your dad die?"
Jim shook his head. "Just left."
Gaston nodded slowly. "Mine too. Do you hate yours?"
Jim considered it for a while, then nodded. "Yeah."
And from that very moment, the two of them were inseperable. Their strong friendship had continued into high school.

"He's not such a jerk," Jim whispered. "If you just get to know him."

Wendy just stared at Jim for a long time. "I didn't know your dad left, Jim. Well, I knew he was gone. But I didn't know—"

"I don't tell anyone," Jim said quietly. "And for the record, I wasn't Mr. Depressed before my dad left."
"Did he ever come back?" asked Wendy.

Jim was silent for a long time. "No," he said at last. "Let's just go to sleep."
Wendy touched Jim's face gently. "Oh, Jim, I'm so—"

"Don't say sorry," Jim growled. "I sure as hell don't need anybody feeling sorry for me. Go to sleep." Jim pushed Wendy off his lap and laid down, facing away from her.

"Jim—"

"Go to sleep."
Wendy touched his arm.

Jim's voice shook. "Please."
Quietly, Wendy laid down and closed her eyes.

But neither of them slept.

I wish she would listen for once in her life.

-Ariel

Ariel walked into The Lucinda, a cute little café, and looked around. Arista had sent her a text about a half hour ago asking her to meet her in the Lucinda.

"Ariel!" The blonde haired girl appeared to be just fat, from a distance away. But from closer, you could see that the "fatness" was not belly weight at all, and the round shape of her stomach was pronounced and defined carefully. It was clear she was pregnant.

Ariel had about 200 dollars saved up in jars in her room, and combined with Arista's money as well as some stolen from their father's wallet, it should be enough to buy off a cheap NYC apartment as well as pay off the first month's mortgage.

Ariel settled down in a seat across from Arista, but noticed there was a sleek brown bag on a third chair. Ariel jerked her chin at the chair. "Who's is that?"
Arista blushed. "Robbie's."

Suddenly, a cute boy with big nerdy wire-rimmed glasses and a black crop of hair wearing a casual suit settled down in the chair next to Arista. He gave Ariel a big smile. "Hi! I'm Robbie Frayman, you must be Ariel. Arista's told me so much about you."
Ariel gave him a teensy weensy smile. "Likewise."

Inwardly, she glared at Arista. "Now, Arista," she began. "You know there's the future to discuss."
"Robbie's pitching in a share of his money. We can easily buy the apartment."
"Aside that," Ariel said, facepalming. "What about the baby? If you actually decide to have the baby, who will take care of it? You're about to graduate, Arista. You had dreams. Go to college, get a good education, and a good job. You realize you'll have to drop out of school due to this pregnancy?"
Arista glowered. "We can hire a nanny, right, Robbie?"
Robbie nodded. "My cousin's best friend Linnea is a good nanny. She has kids of her own, and she lives in the city. I already spoke to my cousin. Her name is Mimi. I can give you her number if you want—"

"Oh, Robbie, no. I don't want your cousin's number." Ariel shook her head. "I want Arista to get an abortion."
It had come out so suddenly, and Robbie and Arista were staring at her now.

"An abortion?" Robbie whispered. "Ariel, she has the baby growing inside her. It would be murder to kill it now."
"Oh, please!" Ariel cried. "I'm trying to look out for Arista! She may be all grown up and ready to be a serious girlfriend with you, Robbie, but she's still my sister first."

Robbie gasped. "I didn't say she wasn't, Ariel. I just want us to have a baby—"

"Only when you're GOOD and READY!" Ariel almost roared. "Think about how inconvenient this would be." She looked to Arista, her eyes pleading. "I'm telling you for your own good."
With an angry smirk, Arista pushed away from the table. "I thought you'd understand. But, God, I was wrong."
Ariel stared after her retreating sister, and left the Lucinda.

Halfway home, she was crying so hard, the streets danced blurrily right before her eyes.

Hey you guys! Happy Sunday, huh? And oh, yeah. It's Monday tomorrow. School and all that crap is gonna delay my writing again.

I had a fun backstory in this chapter, hope you liked it. Just came up with it last night while thinking about how me and MY best friend met.

Have an awesome week! Ttyl till next weekend—or hopefully before that!