Beach Babes (Chapter 1)

"Cannonballs!" yelled Lizzie, waving her arms around and gyrating.

She ran towards the pool until she made it to the edge. There, she jumped in the air and hugged her knees. Then down she went into the water, making a great splash. She swam to the top, flipping her wet, dark hair back.

"Can you do a flip into the water?" asked Skye.

"I don't know," said Lizzie. "I never tried."

"Then try."

"Okay." Lizzie made her way to the underwater steps.

"Walk out of the pool like you're Phoebe Cates."

Lizzie laughed and rolled her eyes. She walked up the steps and walked back to the side of the pool. Then she backed up to give herself space.

"I call this the dippy-flippy-flip," Lizzie declared, water dripping from her cherry red bikini.

She made a ninety-degrees turn and threw herself into a cartwheel. Then her cartwheel transformed into a few backflips. At last, she flips into the air, doing a numerous amount of somersaults before diving into the water.

Debra cheered, applauding for her friend. Lizzie rose to the surface of the water, gasping for air.

"That was spectacular," commented Skye.

"Super duper spectacular," Debra agreed.

"Maddie, did you see that?" shouted Skye.

"Yep," Madeline shouted back. She was sitting in the Jacuzzi, which was not in contact with the pool. Her arms were resting on the surface, her eyes covered in pitch black sunglasses.

"Why don't you come in? You're isolating yourself."

"You guys should come in here."

"Nuh-uh," shouted Lizzie. "You can't flip in a Jacuzzi."

"Suit yourself."

"Just come over here, you lone wolf," ordered Skye.

"Je ne veux pas aller a la piscine."

"Yeah, shut up. Andrea, did you see that?"

Andrea was on a lawnchair, resting on her stomach, baking in the sun. She was in a cheetah-printed two-piece. She was also still and unresponsive and it was hard to tell if she was awake since she had on sunglasses, too.

"Andrea!"

"What?" Andrea asked.

"Are you asleep?"

"No."

"Then why didn't you answer me the first time?"

"Because I slay."

Skye chuckled. "Yeah, right. Get in the pool. You're frying like an egg."

"I like eggs."

"So can anyone of you do a backflip?" Lizzie asked Skye and Debra.

"No, my ankles won't allow it," answered Skye.

"I can do a few tricks myself," shared Debra.

"I guess they come in handy when you're mermaid-ing around, huh?"

"That reminds me," started Lizzie. "How is your job as a mermaid?"

"It's so much fun," replied Debra. "The kids love me."

"And do the kids actually believe you're a mermaid? Because you're not a real mermaid... are you?"

"No, I'm not, Lizzie. But hey, if kids believe in Santa Claus, kids can believe in mermaids despite the fiction."

"Santa Claus is not real?"

Skye covered Lizzie's ears. "Shh, Debra," she said. "You're upsetting Lizzie."

"Oops," Debra murmured, shrugging.

Skye smiled before taking her hands off Lizzie's head.

"Anyway, it's a wonderful job and I think I'm gonna keep it until I go to college."

"The things parents pay for just so their kid can have an abnormal pool party," said Skye before shaking her head.

Madeline walked towards the pool, taking off her glasses.

"Oh, look who decided to join us."

"I don't have to join you," said Madeline, putting her hands on her hips.

"But you do 'cause we're your only friends. So where is everybody?"

"You're my only friends, remember?"

"I mean, the people who live in the condos who are allowed at the pool. Where are they?"

"Oh, everyone's at the beach. Pools are so last year."

"It's a pool."

"Pools can be trends. Anyway, beaches are, like, the hottest things right now."

Skye pushed herself to the edge and lifted herself up before becoming face-to-face with Madeline. "Then I want to go to the beach," she said, water trickling down her yellow and black one-piece.

"Yeah, the beach is so relaxing," said Debra. "I could collect seashells."

"Yeah, and sand is good for exfoliating the skin," added Lizzie. "True story."

"Looks like we all want to go to the beach," said Skye, putting her fists on her hips.

"No way," said Madeline. "There are no Jacuzzis at the beach, okay? Besides, Andrea doesn't want to go."

"You didn't ask her. Andrea?"

She didn't respond.

"Andrea!"

"What?" Andrea responded.

"You're sleeping again."

"No, I'm not."

"Listen, do you want to go to the beach?"

Andrea sat up. "¿Que?"

"According to Madeline, pools are dead and everyone is at the beach."

"Why do you want to be where everyone else is?" Andrea rested her glasses on top of her head.

"I don't. I just like it when people get jellyfishes on their legs so they can get peed on."

"That sounds like a Skye answer." Andrea walked towards Madeline and Andrea. "But who cares if no one is at the pool? We still have lifeguards. Like him." Andrea looked up at the cute lifeguard who was sitting on the tall chair. "Hey," she said, waving at him.

The lifeguard smiled and waved back.

"You have a boyfriend," Debra reminded.

"And my boyfriend's not a lifeguard," Andrea said.

"Do you want to go to the beach or not?" asked Skye.

"Hmm... I guess I can go. There's probably more sun at the beach then there is here. Too many walls."

"Great. So I guess we're going to the beach."

"You don't make the decisions," said Madeline. "I make the decisions."

"Do you?"

"Yeah."

Skye pushed Madeline, making her fall into the pool. She threw her glasses into the air and Skye caught them for her as she made a splash.

Madeline ascended to the top, wiping her eyes and gasping. Her once dry, luscious, fair curls were now dark and stringy ringlets. "You messed up my hair!" she screamed.

"Oh, please," said Skye, crossing her arms. "It's gonna look how it did once it dries."

Madeline raised her eyebrows. "That is so true."

Embarrassment Town (Chapter 1)

The girls decided to spend their afternoon eating at a cafe. Instead of going to their new spot, The Tea Room, the girls decided to go to a cafe that Lizzie used to go to, Cool Beans. They sat at a booth, waiting for Madeline to arrive since she just got off from work. It only took twenty minutes for Madeline to come through the door. Lizzie squealed when she saw Madeline approaching them.
"Girls, I'm back by popular demand," said Madeline melodramatically.
"Yeah, yeah," said Skye. "Just sit down."
Andrea and Debra scooted down so Madeline could have room to sit. "Somebody missed me," Madeline said, smirking.
"How was work?" asked Lizzie.
"Work-y. I realize how hard lawyers have to work. Thank God we have lawyers in the world."
"Amen," said Debra.
"You say that like you need one."
Andrea and Skye laughed.
Soon, Wade, the waiter came to the girls' booth with a notepad and a pencil. "Hello, girls," he said. "Hello, Lizzie."
"Hi, Wade," Lizzie greeted back.
"Wow, this is the first time we weren't referred to as 'Madeline and the girls'," noticed Skye.
Madeline squinted her eyes at her.
"How's your boyfriend, DeMarcus?" asked Wade.
"Big and black," Skye answered for Lizzie.
"Oh, that's how my new girlfriend wants me to be."
Skye and Lizzie chuckled.
"What do you girls want to order?"
The girls looked at their little menus.
"Hmm, can I have the steak and fries?" requested Madeline. "Well done, please."
"Can I have the same thing," asked Lizzie, "but make the steak pink inside? I want it slightly raw."
Wade scribbled on his notepad. "That's what she said," he muttered.
"That's what who said?"
Wade shook his head, jiggling his grayish brown bangs. "Nothing. How about the rest of you?"
"I'll have the cheesesteak sandwich," Skye responded. "I'm on a no-pork diet," she said, mocking Madeline while eyeing her.
Madeline sneered at Skye.
"I'll have the chicken and waffles," requested Andrea. "Don't tell my parents."
"And I'll have the Caesar salad heavy with honey mustard dressing," said Debra.
Wade finished scribbling. "Alright," he said. "B.R.B." He walked away.
"B.R.B.?" repeated Skye. "That's a weird thing for a guy to say."
"Wade is always weird," mentioned Lizzie.
"Did I mention one of my aunts are getting married?" asked Madeline.
"Oh, no," Debra replied. "Tell us about it."
"Well, my aunt Cherise got engaged to Simon, the richest man alive, last year."
"I thought Donald Trump was the richest man alive," said Lizzie.
"No, I think that's Bill Gates," corrected Debra.
"Anyway," Madeline continued, "they're getting married on Saturday and the wedding's taking place in Canada so my family and I have to fly there on Friday. And I can't chicken out because my aunt made me a bridesmaid."
"Aw, you're a bridesmaid?" asked Debra.
"Yeah, my aunt doesn't have many friends so she made me a bridesmaid. She also made Veronique and Jeanne bridesmaids, too."
"Ugh, Veronique," groaned Skye. "I remember her."
"Who can forget about her?" asked Andrea. "Miss I-Don't-Play-Baseball-But-I'll-Swing-a-Bat-Over-Your-Head?"
"You swung a baseball bat at somebody before," reminded Madeline.
"Yeah, but I wasn't losing my mind when I did it."
"Oh, forget about Veronique," said Lizzie. "This is about your aunt Cheryl."
"Cherise," Madeline corrected.
"Cherise. She's getting married; why would chickening out be on your mind?"
"I don't know. She's just a little strange. Like Holly Golightly strange. She's strange 'cause she's fancy. Maybe even fancier than me. I just don't want to go to her wedding and it's not at all what I expected. What I do expect is that she's gonna put me in an ugly dress because you know how brides are. And there are going to be pictures of me looking like somebody mixed crack with their toothpaste." Madeline threw her arms out, being dramatic, only to knock over a salt shaker, spilling salt all over the table.
"Oh, no, you didn't, Madeline," gasped Andrea.
"What?"
"You just knocked over that shaker of salt," said Skye. "That's bad luck."
Madeline scoffed. "Yeah, right."
"Throw it!" Lizzie commanded.
"What?"
"Pick some salt up and throw it over your shoulder. It's supposed to get rid of the bad luck. Also, pat your head and rub your stomach. I heard that works, too."
"No, it doesn't, Lizzie," said Skye.
"I'm not gonna throw salt over my shoulder," said Madeline. "That's just stupid. Besides, I can't get salt on this sweater. It's cashmere."
"Well, if you're gonna have bad luck, you might as well look good," said Andrea.
"Will you stop? Bad luck doesn't exist."
"She's right," agreed Debra. "Bad luck isn't real. So let's not worry about it, okay?"
"Fine," Skye mumbled.
"Wade forgot to ask me for something to drink," mentioned Madeline.
"Drink the salt you spilled all over the place," Skye asserted.

BBF4E (Chapter 1)

"You have so much tuna on your face right now," mentioned Skye, pointing at Andrea's messy face.

"I'm saving this for later," said Andrea in a muffled tone, pointing at her own face, her mouth full of sandwich.

Skye chuckled.

"We're gonna have to stop coming to The Tea Room if you're gonna keep buying these tuna salad sandwiches," said Madeline with a straight face.

"Don't be a hater," said Andrea, still muffled.

Skye's chuckles turned into a laugh.

Madeline picked up her small, triangle-shaped sandwich. "So how was your double date with Lizzie yesterday?" she asked Debra.

"It was swell," answered Debra, "although Kyle didn't show."

"He didn't?"

Debra shook her head. "Nope. He told me that he wasn't comfortable going on a double date so he decided not to come. It was just me, Lizzie and DeMarcus."

"Yeah, it was a triple threat dinner," said Lizzie, nodding.

"Wow," Madeline said, raising her eyebrows. "Are you mad at Kyle?"

"I know Kyle too well to be mad at him," Debra responded. "But when I do see him, I'm gonna give him a flick on his wrist."

"Yeah, that'll do it," said Madeline sarcastically.

"Look at the flick at the wrist," sang Andrea clearly.

"It was probably good that Kyle didn't come," said Lizzie. "DeMarcus said he didn't know what he would've done if Kyle was there. I said he could talk to him about boy stuff but DeMarcus was like, 'Nah!'. He was glad Kyle didn't show."

"What are these guys' problems?" asked Skye. "Do they have beef with each other?"

"No, it's a clique thing," clarified Madeline. "Our boyfriends were in different cliques in high school."

"Well, we're not in high school anymore so what's the big frickin' deal?"

"Those guys were in different groups for so long that they got used to the idea of only being friends with their friends."

"But we're not clique-y," said Debra. "Look at us. We shouldn't even hang out together."

"We're rebels to society!" said Skye, throwing her fist in the air.

Debra laughed.

"Calm down, Hitler," Madeline demanded. "Look, we never see our boyfriends together. Maybe in the same room but never really interacting. For example, I've never seen Randall talk to Calvin."

"Randall doesn't like anybody," said Andrea with her mouth full again.

"But he likes you so that's a start. Why can't he like anyone else?"

"Jeffrey is sorta shy," said Skye. "He hardly interacts with anyone who doesn't skateboard."

"See? That's the problem. We need to bring them out of their comfort zone."

"We need to diversify our boyfriends," said Lizzie, putting all of her fingertips together.

"Yeah... I guess. They should all hang out together. But not with us, by themselves."

"What if they kill each other?"

"Well, it was nice knowing them."

"That's a nice plan," Debra commented. "But how are we gonna get them together if they won't hang out with each other?"

"We lie," Madeline said in a sinister voice.

"Ah, something you're good at," said Skye, nodding.

"I am not a liar."

"Yes, you are," said Andrea, still muffled. "You lie all the time."

"I can't even handle you with your mouth full."

Everybody Loves a Waitress (Chapter 1)

On a Monday, the girls went to a cafe down the street from Madeline's condominium. They were sitting together at a table outside with sandwiches and cups of coffees. While the girls were eating, Lizzie was staring at her phone, which she sat on the table. It took a while but they started to notice her lack of eating and excessive staring.
"Whatcha doin', Lizzie?" asked Skye.
"Oh, just waiting," she answered.
"For what? For your phone to explode?"
"I'm waiting to get the call back on whether I got the job or not."
"The job at Wendy's?" inquired Debra.
"Mm-hmm. The guy, Rich, told me he would call on Monday and he didn't call yet so I'm waiting."
"Your sandwich is gonna get cold," said Andrea.
"I don't mind."
"Are you sure you don't want me to have it?"
"You didn't even finish the one you got," noticed Madeline.
"But it's delicious. I want another one."
"Finish yours then buy another one."
"Can you give me some money?"
Madeline rolled her eyes.
In a flash, Lizzie's phone started ringing.
"Ah!" she exclaimed. "It's him!"
"Then pick it up," ordered Skye.
"Okay." Lizzie answered her phone and held it to her ear. "Hello? Hey, Rich. What's up? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh."
"Uh-huh," Skye said, almost in a mocking tone.
"Okay. Thank you for calling. Have a nice Monday or at least a decent one. Alright, bye." Lizzie hung up.
"What happened?" asked Madeline.
"I didn't get the job."
"Aw," all her friends uttered.
"I'm sorry, Lizzie," said Debra.
"It's fine," Lizzie responded. "At least I applied to other jobs."
"But half of the ones you applied to, they already gave you an answer and they were all no," reminded Madeline.
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying there's a possible chance that you won't get hired at any of them."
"Don't say that, Madeline," Debra commanded. "That's not true at all."
"Why did Rich say he couldn't hire you?" questioned Andrea.
"Well, he said it had to do a lot with my resume," Lizzie replied.
"What was on your resume which made him not consider you?" asked Debra.
"Oh, he said stuff about me being a cheerleader and that was the only thing I did at high school. He also said the fact that I didn't know how to cook or clean but learned how to French braid at seventeen didn't really make me seem useful."
"Wow," Andrea commented.
"I know. And the mascot for Wendy's have braids so I think me knowing how to braid is pretty useful."
"Yeah, but I don't think it's required to braid your hair for that job, Lizzie," said Skye.
"Is it because my hair's not red?"
"Not at all."
"Oh, is it because I'm not Swiss?"
"Not at all."
"Or German? I don't know what that girl is."
"Lizzie, it's not about looks," said Debra. "It's about your abilities to get things done."
"Hey, I get things done. One time, it took me two hours to make a house of cards."
"Ooh, that's impressive," remarked Madeline.
"Too bad there's not a job for it," said Skye.
"I mean the abilities that everyone should know how to do, like cook," clarified Debra.
"I know how to cook," said Lizzie.
Skye laughed.
"Can you make this sandwich?" asked Andrea with her mouth full. "This is pure heaven."
"You have to know how to clean,too," added Debra. "Do you clean the bathrooms at your house?" she asked Lizzie.
"Ugh, no way," she answered. "Do you know how many people use the toilet at home?"
"Yeah, and that person includes you so it's not a big deal."
"I saw a video on the internet of a girl licking toilet seats," shared Skye. "Maybe that gives you an idea on how to clean the bathroom?"
"Ew, Skye," said Madeline. "Why were you watching that?"
"Look, this isn't about me. This is about Lizzie."
"Guys, can we not talk about licking toilets while I'm eating this sandwich?" asked Andrea.
"I'm sorry, Liz', but Debra's right," said Madeline. "Therefore, I don't think you'll get hired at anything at all."
"Now, now, I'm pretty sure she'll find something," said Debra. "Lizzie can't be completely handicapped from working."
"That's right," said Lizzie. "And if I get rejected from everything I applied to, I'll just keep applying to more jobs."
"That's the spirit." Debra gave Lizzie a thumbs-up.
"Hey, I know how to drive. I can be a delivery person for a pizza place or something."
Skye laughed. "Ain't no way," she said.
"Yeah, stay behind the scenes, Lizzie," Debra advised. "Don't try anything big."
"Oh, alright," Lizzie agreed. "Ooh! I should apply for Madeline's old job at the Pink Tee."
"No," said Madeline. "Penelope didn't like you that much."
"Oh. Why?"
"If I tell you, I'd have to kill you."
"Oh, you don't have to kill me."
"Oh, yes, I do."

I'm Moving Out! (Chapter 1)

Madeline opened the door for all of her friends. They were stunned when they saw how sweet her new condominium was. It was bigger than the average apartment. The floors were sleek and boarded, the walls were perfectly painted white and the furniture were variations of sepia. The glass doors to the balcony almost took up the whole wall. Sunlight shone through and made the entire living room glisten. The girls thought they walked into heaven.
"Welcome to my place," declared Madeline. "In French: Bienvenue a chez moi. In Andrea's language: Bienvenido a mi casa."
"Gracias," Andrea uttered, her eyes on the fabulous living room.
"How can you afford such a place?" Lizzie asked.
"The witch is rich," Skye answered.
"She's right," Madeline agreed, closing the door. "Except for the witch part."
"This place is balls of amazement, Madeline," Debra commented.
"Thank you, but I was thinking about changing this place a little bit since I do live here now."
"You're not coming back home?"
"No way. My parents annoyed me enough. Besides, they probably appreciate that I'm gone. Now they can have their alone time."
"Yeah, your parents were probably just dying to bonk," said Skye.
"Don't talk about my parents that way, Skye."
"It's not an insult. If they didn't bonk, you wouldn't be here."
"Stop saying 'bonk'."
"Bonk."
"Ugh!"
"You got a kitchen?" asked Andrea.
"What kind of question is that? Of course I got a kitchen, Andrea."
"I'm sorry. I thought Madame Maddie would have to go to restaurants now to eat."
"Well, Madame Maddie ain't poor."
"I thought you were but your parents weren't," said Skye.
"I have a job."
"Not a good one."
"I think you're confusing my new job with my old job. I don't work with Penelope at the Pink Tee anymore. I'm a receptionist at my dad's firm. You call me; I can never call you."
"How much money do you make an hour?"
"Three times more than what I was paid at the Pink Tee."
"So three dollars?"
Madeline cocked her head. "Ha ha. Very funny."
"Thank you. I'm here all day."
"So am I," said Andrea. "Ain't no way I'm leaving."
"I'm pretty sure you're needed at home, Andrea," said Madeline.
"Uh, Krista and Linda have each other and all my parents do is yell at my grandpa. Therefore, I'm not needed over there."
"Oh, that's so sad you're not needed at home," said Lizzie.
"Not really. Now I can do whatever I want. I can run around naked over my house."
"Please don't do that," demanded Madeline. "Your family doesn't need to see your naked body."
"What about the girls who pose nude in the magazines that their dads read?" questioned Lizzie.
"Anyway, the kitchen is over there." Madeline pointed in its direction. "If I'm gonna get a place, I might as well go all out. My dad's a lawyer; he can afford anything. He can buy an island if he wanted to."
"Ooh, could he buy Hawaii?"
"Hawaii's not an island."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive, Liz'. So you girls want to see the fridge? None of the food in there has gluten. I'm on a gluten-free diet."
"Why am I not surprised?" asked Skye.

Goodbye, School (Chapter 1)

Today was the day: graduation day. Every senior from Laguna Beach High School was gathered inside a fancy college before attending their ceremony. They were all standing in the lobby in their caps and gowns, waiting for further instructions. Friends talked to friends; lovers talked to lovers. They laughed, smiled and even cried. Actually, it was only Lizzie who was crying.
"What's wrong, Liz'?" asked Andrea.
"I don't want to graduate," answered Lizzie, choked up through sniffles. "I want to... stay at school... forever."
"You're lucky you're even graduating, Liz'," said Skye, almost muttering.
"Hey, don't cry," Madeline said, putting her arm around Lizzie.  "You should be happy. You're becoming an adult."
"I don't want to be an adult," wept Lizzie. "Adults die."
"Kids die, too, Lizzie."
"Kids die all the time," shouted Skye.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" asked Lizzie.
"I guess not," said Madeline. "Listen, nothing is going to change. You're gonna go to a new school in a few months. Isn't that exciting?"
Lizzie wiped her nose. "I guess so."
"Right. So you should feel good about that."
"Okay."
"Okay, so stop crying. You're ruining your makeup."
"It's a good thing you guys are going to college," said Skye. "But while you're getting an education, I'll be out rocking." She pretended to play an air guitar.
"While you'll be out rocking, we'll be here knowing... stuff," said Madeline.
"I can't believe your band is going to release your first album," shared Debra.
"Just make sure you pick up a copy," reminded Skye.
"So you're not going to college at all?" questioned Lizzie, wiping her wet cheeks.
"That's correct."
"It's so weird that after we graduate, we'll be completely abandoning each other," said Andrea.
"We're not abandoning each other," said Debra. "We're going to the same school."
"Yeah, except for Madeline and Skye. I'm happy for all of you but can a sister get a warning?"
"Sorry that I'm going to Harvard," Madeline apologized. "But I'm not sorry. We should've already known that we're kinda going to go our separate ways."
"But I feel like we should've discussed it more."
"What is there to discuss? We're going to college. It's not like we're becoming magicians."
"That would be really cool if we were," shared Lizzie.
"We're best friends," mentioned Andrea. "Don't you think the state of our friendship should've been discussed?"
"She's right, Maddie," Debra agreed.
"Don't get mad at me because I'm going to Harvard," said Madeline. "Look, we still have the summer so how about tomorrow we watch a movie like Dirty Dancing?"
"I'm not gonna watch a movie about a pedophile," stated Skye.
"Hey, he was not a pedophile. Baby was seventeen, going on eighteen. And if she were to turn eighteen, she would've looked the same so it was not pedophilia. It was okay."
"Heck, if Kylie and Tyga were allowed to date, then there's nothing wrong with that movie," said Andrea. "Still, you can't bribe me with classics." She marched off and pushed herself through a crowd.
"Geez, there's no need to be upset. This is the present, turning into the future. We were very aware of that."
"Yeah, but you can't leave us without saying goodbye," mentioned Skye. She walked off as well.
"What is this? Walk Away Land? I'm being honest. I'm spitting truth."
"I got to find Kyle," said Debra before walking off, too.
"Oh, that's your excuse?" Madeline looked at Lizzie, who was still standing by.
"I would leave," confessed Lizzie, "but I don't want a bunch of people to see how messed up my makeup is."

Time to Shave Your Legs (Part 2) (Chapter 1)

"How about this?" asked Madeline, picking up a weird-shaped, white dress.
"Is that a belt?" questioned Andrea.
"No, it's a halter dress with cutouts."
"Then why does it look like a shoelace?" asked Skye.
"Ha-ha, very funny." Madeline put back the dress on its hanger. "I just want to look really good for the prom."
"But it's the prom, not the stripper ball."
"Strippers have balls?" asked Lizzie.
"There's something wrong with that question."
"I am so happy that Calvin asked me to the prom," shared Madeline.
"I thought he liked boys," said Andrea.
"There's no proof of that. But if we're being honest, I thought that, too. However, Calvin asked me and I wasn't going to be selfish and reject him. I made that mistake with Sean."
"You would be so unhappy if you took Sean to the dance," said Skye.
"I know, but I had to take someone."
"No, you don't, Maddie. Like I said, you should go by yourself."
"And witness everyone having a better time than me? I don't think so."
"It is very nice that Calvin is taking you to the prom," Debra said. "He has always been a good friend to you."
"I know. He's like a butler who you later grow a connection with as you get older and he continues to work for you."
"That's a rich girl thing to say. But you're happy and that's important."
"Please, if Sean had just gone with the flow when Madeline finally accepted his request, she would've been happy anyway," said Skye. "I was just saying she would be unhappy later because she was desperate for a date anyway."
"Why are you hatin' on me?" asked Madeline. "You wanted me to go to the dance with Sean in the first place."
"I'm just stating the obvious."
"Are you? Like, you do like Sean? Is that your problem?"
"No, I don't like Sean. I love somebody else."
Lizzie looked at Skye. "Did you say 'love'?" she asked.
"No." Skye scrunched her eyebrows.
"Yes, you did," said Andrea. "You said you love somebody."
"No, I didn't."
"Uh-huh!" Debra disagreed. "You did! You love somebody. Is it Jeffrey? Oh, my goodness, you love Jeffrey."
"Guys, calm your boobs!"
"My boobs are calm," said Lizzie.
"I never said I loved Jeffrey. It was a slip of the tongue."
"In Jeffrey's mouth," added Andrea.
"Okay, that's nasty. He is my friend, alright? I'm going with him to prom as a friend and we're gonna go through life as friends."
"Sure you are, lover," said Madeline.
"Oh, just buy your shoelace dress so we can get out of here."

Time to Shave Your Legs (Part 1) (Chapter 1)

Madeline and Lizzie were walking down the hallway after the bell rang, prompting the students to go to their next class. As the girls chatted, Madeline stopped and made Lizzie stop. Madeline was gazing upon a guy digging in his locker just several feet away.
"Whatcha stopping for?" asked Lizzie.
"Two words," started Madeline, "Brody Barker."
Lizzie gasped. "Brody Barker from computer programming?"
"That's the one. My buddy, my helper, my flirt."
"You should ask him to the prom."
"Should I?"
"Yes! Definitely."
"How's my hair?"
"Flawless."
"How's my teeth?"
"Spotless."
"How's my outfit?"
"Gorgeous."
"How are my eyebrows?"
"On fleek."
"Okay, I'm gonna go for it."
Madeline relaxed her shoulders and strutted towards Brody. He was a handsome guy with smoldering eyes, curly brown hair and amazing, full lips. He had the qualities of Madeline's dream guy and she could never stop thinking about him.
When he closed his locker, Madeline said, "Hey, Brody."
He smiled at her. He had a smile as good as a devil's. "Hey, Madeline. What's up?"
"The ceiling. No, I'm kidding. I just wanted to ask you, since prom is coming up, if you want to go with me there."
"Madeline, I'm flattered."
"I knew you would be."
"But I was planning to ask someone else."
"You did what now?"
"Yeah, I was hoping to take KiKi Simmons to the prom."
"KiKi Simmons? Who is that?"
"She's been my best friend since first grade. She moved to Sweden six years after but I never lost contact with her. And she just graduated from high school and decided to come back to the U.S. Long story short, she's gonna arrive here this week."
"She's Swedish?"
"I don't know. The point is I really want to take her to the prom."
"But we're flirt buddies."
"I know, but I didn't think KiKi was going to come back."
"Well, congratulations, loser!" Madeline marched away from Brody and stopped in front of Lizzie.
"Did he say yes?" Lizzie grinned.
"Does my face look like he said yes?" Madeline asked furiously.
"Is that a trick question?"

Not Meant to Sit on Babies (Chapter 1)

    On a Saturday night, the girls were over at their own homes. They found ways to chill by themselves, such as Lizzie spending time with her baby brother, Dallas. She hung out in his room, in her peasant-like clothing, leaning over the crib, talking to him. Dallas was almost a year old and knew how to take a few steps but did not know how to speak. He had big, brown eyes just like his sister and was growing out dark brown hair.
    Lizzie tickled Dallas's body, which was covered in a baby blue onesie, with her decoratively-manicured finger. Dallas giggled, bearing his toothless mouth. Lizzie babbled baby talk at him, which he didn't quite understand yet Lizzie thought he did.
    "You're such a cutie pie! Who's a cutie pie? You're a cutie pie! I could just eat you up... but that would be cannibalism. Can you say 'cannibalism'? Cannibalism! Oh, you're so cute. Yes, you are!"
    Lizzie's four-eyed parents walked in and witnessed their daughter communicating with their young son.
    "You are in love with him, Lizzie," said her mother.
    "I don't think I'll ever stop being in love with him," admitted Lizzie, not taking her eyes off of her brother. "He's just so adorable."
    "You know, one day, he's gonna grow up."
    "Oh, I know. I dread that day."
    "Who knows when that day will come?" asked Lizzie's dad. "He hasn't even said a word yet."
    "I know, right? That's why I always have conversations with him so he'll feel encouraged to talk back."
    "I don't think he knows what you've been saying, Lizzie."
    "Drats. At least I know what I've been saying."
    Lizzie's mother walked over to the crib, prompting Lizzie to move aside, and picked up the giggling baby. "Hello!" she said to him in a sweet voice. "Is your diaper messy?"
    "No, mom, I don't wear diapers anymore."
    "I wasn't talking to you," Lizzie's mother said in her normal voice. She went back to Dallas. "What will I feed you tonight?"
    "Well, I was kinda hoping that we go to dinner but by ourselves," said Lizzie's father.
    "I wasn't talking to you either."
    "No, I'm serious. There's this new restaurant a few blocks away and I was wondering if we could have dinner, just the two of us."
    "Oh, I don't know, Joseph. Ever since Dallas has been born, I was always by his side."
    "Come on, Marie. We haven't had any alone time in a while. Don't you think we should celebrate being such lovely parents?"
    "I suppose so. But how are we going to find a babysitter at a time like this?"
    "I can go on that website full of babysitters."
    "Or I could watch Dallas," suggested Lizzie.
    "No, I think the website would be fine."
    "Come on, mom and dad. I could totally watch Dallas while you two are gone."
    "Lizzie, dear Lizzie," started her mom. "How can I say this nicely? I... don't really trust... you to be alone... with the baby."
    "Saying that sentence slowly was being nice?"
    "Listen, sweetie, I know you're kinda an adult but I don't think you're responsible enough to take care of Dallas."
    "How can you say that? I spent many times alone with Dallas."
    "Yeah, but that happens when your dad and I are home." Lizzie's mother set Dallas gently back in his crib.
    "But sometimes, you're downstairs and me and Dallas would be upstairs. Do you know how far away this room is from the kitchen and living room?"
    "You're not convincing me, Lizzie."
    "Please, mom! I'll read those books on how to take care of a baby. And besides, I have watched a bunch of television that shows how to do it as well. I basically know how to change a diaper and put a baby to sleep without doing any of that."
    "What kind of T.V. shows have you been watching?"
    "Mom! Dad, don't you think I can take care of Dallas?"
    "Gee, I don't know, sweetie," said Lizzie's dad. "You're kind of forgetful."
    "Yeah, and you always can't find your car keys," agreed Lizzie's mom.
    "Mom, dad, that was the old me," said Lizzie. "That's the problem: you dwell on the past and can't let it go. But you guys got to trust me; I am so much more mature than I was like... five days ago. And besides, do you really think I would let anything happen to my baby brother?"
    "I don't believe so."
    "Then please give me a chance. Please! Pretty please."
    Lizzie's mother looked at her husband for reconciliation. He shrugged and she nodded.
    "Alright, we're gonna let you babysit Dallas tonight," decided Lizzie's mom.
    "Yay!" cheered Lizzie.
    "But if anything happens, this will be the last time you babysit Dallas. You understand me?"
    "Yes, I understand you. Loud and cuh-lear. Thank you!"
    "Alright," said Lizzie's father. "We've got ourselves a date." He wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and led her out the door.
    Lizzie squealed and smiled at Dallas over the crib. "Did you hear that, Dallas?" she asked. "I'm going to be babysitting you tonight! I am so excited. We're gonna have so much fun together. Oh, I have to find those baby books that mom owns. But before I do that, I got to go figure out where my car keys are."

The Skye is Falling (Part 2) (Chapter 1)

    "You broke up with Jeffrey?" asked Madeline.
    "Uh-huh," Skye responded, eating the beef stew on her lunch tray with a plastic fork.
    "For Dom?" asked Andrea.
    "That's right."
    "And you're okay with that?" asked Debra.
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "But that's not okay," said Lizzie.
    "Can you all stop doggin' me?" Skye dropped her fork on her tray. "It was my decision and I am happy with it. I suggest you do the same. Thank you." She picked her fork back up.
    "But you've been with Jeffrey for a year," Madeline reminded. "Breakups after six months aren't easy."
    "It wasn't that easy to tell him. Trust me."
    "The way you described it made it sound easy," mentioned Andrea. "You just told him straight up then walked away."
    "Well, what did you expect me to do? Just linger awkwardly?"
    "Sometimes, it's best to spend as much time with someone as you can," said Lizzie.
    "What?"
    "Skye, are you sure it was the right decision?" questioned Debra. "I mean, I know you didn't quite love Jeffrey but it's not like you didn't love him on purpose."
    "I know but I wanted him to be with someone who does love him. I didn't want him to die waiting for me to tell him that I loved him back. That could've took forever. So I thought it was best to let him go."
    "I understand wanting to let him go," said Andrea. "But you're dating Dom. Are you sure that's not  why you broke up with Jeffrey?"
    "Okay, maybe I wasn't going to break up with Jeff if I didn't make out with Dom the night before. But to be honest, I was thinking about breaking up with him anyway."
    "Wait a second, wait a second," said Madeline, holding her index finger up. "Hold the phone."
    "What phone should we hold?" asked Lizzie.
    "You didn't say anything about making out with Dom before you broke up with Jeffrey."
    "Oh, yeah," said Skye, "I guess I forgot."
    Madeline scrunched her forehead. "How could you forget? Basically, you cheated on Jeffrey then dumped him for Dom."
    "What does that make me? A cheater?"
    "Yeah," Lizzie replied.
    "I wasn't talking to you, Lizzie. Don't forget, Andrea cheated on her boyfriend, too."
    "Oh, stop," said Andrea. "That was a hundred-forty years ago, okay?"
    "I thought it was five months ago," said Lizzie.
    "I wasn't talking to you, Lizzie."
    "We're not accusing of you of being a bad person, Skye," said Madeline. "We're just making sure that you acknowledge that you did a bad person thing."
    "I get what I did was wrong," Skye said. "But how I look at it, it was for the right reasons."
    "What right reasons?" asked Andrea.
    "I freed Jeffrey so he can be with whoever he deserves. And now I'm dating someone who is exactly like me. So I don't have to worry about anything."
    "Like Jeffrey killing you in your sleep?"
    Skye frowned. "Funny."
    "That's not funny," said Lizzie. "That's serious. What if Jeffrey is driven by love madness?"
    "There's no such thing as love madness. I'm not going to lie: Jeffrey did seem hurt when I broke up with him. That hurt me a bit because I just want him to be happy. But he's going to be fine. I know that because I know him. He will heal and I believe that. Besides, he should be happy that I'm with Dom because he makes me happy. In the end, it's all about making decisions for yourself and I made my decision not just for me but for Jeffrey. Now will you excuse me? I need to buy some Honey Buns; I am craving badly for them." Skye got up and walked away from the table, making way to the far vending machines in the cafeteria.
    "Has anyone seen anything different about Skye?" asked Madeline.
    "I do," Lizzie answered. "She's so rude."
    "She's always been rude, Lizzie. There's something else about her."
    Debra gasped. "Her streak is gone."
    "Her what?"
    "The pink streak in her hair. She washed it out."
    Andrea gasped, too. "Su racha se ha ido. Es que no hay más."
    "Oh, my potato skins," said Madeline. "I can't believe she took her streak out."
    "Potato skins?" repeated Debra.
    "And Skye's outfit is all black," Lizzie mentioned.
    "Dios mio, I noticed that," said Andrea.
    Madeline gasped. "You don't think she's changing her wardrobe?"
    "Why would she change it in the first place?" asked Lizzie.
    "Because of Dom. Dom dresses almost goth-like so Skye is dressing like him."
    "But that doesn't explain the missing pink streak," said Debra.
    "Maybe Dom likes girls who wear their hair naturally."
    "That's dumb," Andrea commented. "Why would Dom make out with Skye if he didn't like all of Skye?"
    "I don't know. But this is sick, alright? This is a sick situation. Skye can't be changing, not for some guy. We need more proof."
    "Are we going to become sleuths?" Lizzie questioned. "I've always wanted to be a sleuth. Just strut around with a big magnifying glass. And I still have my pipe which blows bubbles. I've been dying to blow bubbles while solving a crime."
    Madeline stared at her best friend. "I wasn't talking to you, Lizzie."

The Skye is Falling (Part 1) (Chapter 1)

"I got two tickets to see Twenty One Pilots," said Skye's boyfriend, Jeffrey. "Are you up for it?"
"No thanks," Skye replied. "I'm not into Twenty One Pilots. They're not even a real rock band."
"Oh, come on. I heard you singing one of their songs the other day."
"No, I was not. It was somebody else's song."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Okay."
"But you should still go. Don't not go because I don't want to go. Take one of your friends."
"Okay. I just wanted to do something with you."
"Jeffrey, we do something every week. After you go to the concert, we could do something together."
"Like watch a movie in my house?"
"Sure. Whatever."
"Do you mind doing that today with me?"
"I have homework that I need to do."
"Okay. How about Saturday?"
"Then it's a date."
"Sweet!"
"Hey, I got to go to class."
"See you later?"
"Possibly."
"Cool. I love you."
"And... right back at you... sweetie." Skye ran inside the classroom that was by her as Jeffrey walked off to his next class.
Skye felt bad for not saying, "I love you" back to her boyfriend every time he said it. But she couldn't say it; she didn't feel the same way. She cared about Jeffrey but she wasn't going to say some words she didn't mean.
She sat down in her assigned seat before the bell rang. After that, the skinny, middle-aged teacher entered the classroom and closed the door. She stood in front of her desk and made a declaration to the students.
"Okay, kids," she started in her soft, British accent, "we will start off this class with our next project. You are going to have to write an essay on an issue or a subject that needs to be discussed more. It has to be an issue in the world or in this state, not something like why I don't have a chalkboard on any of the walls of this classroom. Anyway, you will not write the essay by yourselves. You will need a partner. But if I let you choose a partner, you're just gonna pick the same people you always pick. So I created a chart of who you will be partnering up. Yes, I'm evil. The chart is on my desk so you can come up and look. Don't steal my apple."
All of the students got out of their seats and walked up to the desk. Many of them were so irritated that they couldn't pick someone they work. Skye didn't care; her best friends weren't in her English class so she worked with whoever was the smartest. The students took turns looking at the chart and tried to find their partners. When Skye was in front of the desk, she picked up the chart and looked for her name.
"Who the frick is Dominic Westbrook?" she said to herself.
"He's over there," a girl said, motioning to the back of the room.
Skye looked in the girl's direction and saw a boy sitting by himself in the back row of desks. His feet were up on his desk and he was picking his fingernails. He had short, black, greasy hair and diamond stud earrings. He was wearing a black collared shirt with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath, dark skinny jeans, and black lace-up boots. He also had on soft, black, fingerless gloves.
"Yippee," Skye reacted sarcastically. She walked over to the punk. "You must be Dominic," she said.
He looked up at Skye with his piercing blue eyes. "You must be hot," he smirked.
"Ew."
"I go by Dom."
"I go by Skye."
"Is that short for Skylar or something?"
"Yes, it is."
"Why do you just go by 'Skye'? You think you're cool or something?"
"I just rather be called Skye. Why do you go by Dom? You think you're hot or something?"
"Oh, you feelin' it?"
"I'm not feelin' anything. Anyway, we have to write an essay together."
"Fun," Dom said sarcastically.
"I know, right?" Skye sat down in the empty seat next to him. "So we have to come up with an issue that needs to be discussed more."
"Okay. How about we write about you?"
"Why?"
"Because the issue here is that you're not in my pants."
"Ew."
"That wasn't the response I was looking for."
"Whatever. We need to write about a serious issue."
"Listen, I don't do essays. I just let my partner do all the writing then we both get A's."
"Well, I'm not a pushover. But if you have a hundred dollars, I'll handle this project by myself."
"I can barely make a penny."
"Then we're both writing this essay."
"Who stole my apple?" yelled the teacher.

Girls Like Enemies (Chapter 1)

During the evening in the middle of the week, the girls were in school, receiving their education. Andrea was once again in AP chemistry class, doing another hands-on project with the brainiac Randall Lowe. After discovering that she has feelings for the fiery redhead, Andrea could not cooperate in class like she used to. With the chance she would get to work with her assigned lab partner, Andrea always had a lack of concentration, which ticked Randall off. Suddenly, he seemed more attractive to Andrea and that threw her off. She just wasn't herself around him, at least not anymore.
As Randall poured a flask of red liquid into a heated beaker of a yellow liquid, Andrea could not take her eyes off of him. She was thinking about how her and Randall would possibly even be a couple. He wasn't even her type. A ginger bowl-cut. An army of freckles. Bulb-y nose. Pasty, tiny hands. But her thoughts overcame her and froze her with admiration and wonder.
"Okay, write a description for this," demanded Randall, eyeing the beaker which now contained an orange liquid.
Andrea didn't do anything; she just stared hard at Randall.
Randall looked at her to make sure she was taking notes. "Hello? Did you hear me?"
Andrea started blinking rapidly, as if she was waking up. "Uh, no. What did you say?"
"I said, loudly and clearly, to write a description of this."
"Oh, of course." Andrea picked up her pencil and started scribbling on the chart on the paper. She looked up when she was finished.
"What did you write?"
"On the paper?"
"Yes." Randall was getting more irritated.
"Oh, I said that it turned orange."
"Yeah, orange and bubbly like soda."
"Oh, should I write that down?"
"Yes!"
"Okay." Andrea began to write down what Randall said inside the chart.
"Now I am going to add the blue balls." Randall reached for the plastic bag of little blue-colored spheres. He opened it and picked three balls. Then carefully, he dropped them into the beaker. The balls quickly dissolved into the liquid and turned it brown. "Okay, write a description of that."
Andrea didn't do anything again. She was, once again, staring at her crush with lost eyes.
Randall looked at Andrea and glared at her. "Earth to Andrea!"
Andrea flinched. "What? Sorry."
"Didn't you hear what I said?"
"No."
"God, are you on crack?"
"No!"
"Then stop behaving so bizarre. I swear, in the past few weeks, you've been acting strange. Stranger than how you usually act."
"I'm sorry. There's just a lot on my mind."
"Well, get this: you're in school which is not the place to have so much on your mind. So I suggest that you pay attention and do this stupid project with me so we can be done."
"Shut up, you... hooligan."
"Is that the best you can do?"
"I don't know," Andrea mumbled.
"Just stop being a brat and help me out."
"You know, you are such a... uh... well, yeah, you know what you are."
"Ooh, burn," Randall said sarcastically.
Andrea squinted her eyes at him and shook her head.

Jealousy is a Strong Word (Chapter 1)

On an ordinary of school, the girls were in their assigned classes around ten in the morning. Andrea was in AP chemistry working on a project. That would be nothing to her, except she had to once again work with Randall on the project. Randall was one of her worst enemies. He was super smart but very arrogant about it and had an anger problem. Him and Andrea were always arguing, especially when nothing went wrong. They just hated each other. Yet they were forced to work together on an assignment that was easy to Randall but hard to Andrea.
"Don't pour it yet," Randall ordered as he eyed Andrea, trying to tip a cup of an unknown, blue liquid into a heated beaker of a clear, syrupy liquid.
The partners stared at the beaker for a few seconds. After a while, Andrea tried to tip the cup again.
"Don't pour it yet," Randall repeated.
Andrea held the cup up so no liquid would fall. She and Randall stared at the beaker for a moment again. Once more, Andrea attempted to tip the cup.
"Don't pour it yet!"
Andrea sat the cup on the black counter. "Then when am I supposed to pour it?"
"Are you blind? The instructions say to pour it when the substance turns slightly yellow."
"Well, it looks yellow to me."
"Well, it's not. You got to wait for it to turn a canary color. The instructions say it might take ten minutes."
"How long has it been?"
"Nine minutes."
Andrea scoffed. "I'm pouring this in." She picked up the cup and attempted to tip it over the beaker.
Yet Randall put his hand in front of the cup and pushed it safely down. "Not yet. Wait another minute. And if the substance doesn't turn yellow, wait a few more minutes."
"You didn't have to touch me."
"I didn't touch you."
"Yes, you did. You touched me."
"I didn't touch you, Andrea. Stop being such a drama queen."
"I'm a drama queen? You're the one who's all like, 'Don't pour it yet!'"
"That's because you're not supposed to pour it yet."
"Well, you don't have to yell at me."
"I wouldn't have to yell at you if you weren't so hardheaded."
"Ha! Is that supposed to be an insult? Because for the record, Rand-all, heads are supposed to be hard."
"Shocker."
Andrea paused for a bit. "Was that sarcasm?"
Randall didn't respond; he just looked away.
"Excuse me. I said are you being sarcastic?"
"Yes, I'm being sarcastic," Randall said to her face. "What are you, the sarcastic police?"
Andrea began to fake-laugh. "What a jokester."
"What a drama queen."
"I'm not dramatic."
"Then stop being dramatic!"
"You know what? I think we've been arguing for a good minute. I got to pour the cup in." Andrea picked up the cup of blue liquid and poured it all into the beaker.
"No!" Randall yelled as she poured it in. He swiped the empty cup from Andrea's hand and sat it on the counter. "You're not supposed to pour it all in. You were supposed to pour half."
"Sorry, I didn't know."
"That's because you didn't read the instructions, blindy."
"Hey, just because I didn't read the instructions doesn't mean I'm blind."
"You're right, you're not blind. You're hardheaded!"
"Everyone is, redheaded."
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"Sorta."
The partners' attention quickly turned to the beaker, which was overflowing, coming out in big bubbles. Andrea almost freaked out while Randall picked up a small silver disk from the counter and immediately placed it on top of the beaker, ceasing the spillage.
"You fool!" shouted Randall. "You're supposed to put the lid on it after you pour the chemical in."
"Uh, I'm sorry," started Andrea, "but I was gonna put the lid on it if you weren't so busy yelling at me."
"No, you weren't. You forgot just like you forgot to only pour half of the cup into the beaker."
"No, I didn't. Besides, the lid was all the way over there. You should've put the lid on it."
"I did put the lid on it."
"Well, you didn't do it fast enough!"
"And look at this." Randall motioned to the blue liquid splattered all over the countertop. "You made a mess. You're not hardheaded after all; you're just a sloppy, dirty mess."
"You're one to talk, usted pequeño monstruo."
"English, please."
"Oh! English? English? I'm gonna beat you so hard, you won't even know how to speak English anymore."
"That's real ladylike. Your mother taught you that?"
"My mother? Oh, my mother?" Andrea began to take her gold, sun-shaped studs out of her ears. "You want to talk about my mother? Then let's go. Let's bring it on." She settled into a fighting stance.
"You're so pathetic. The only way you know how to settle something is to fight. You're an embarrassment to society." He swiped out Andrea's earrings from her hands as she slowly started to stand regularly. "So are your weird earrings."
"Give me back my earrings! And I told you to stop touching me." She smacked Randall's hands so he could drop the earrings he was holding tightly. But she was so strong that when she smacked Randall's hands, he slid around and fell into the table. When he regained balance, he turned around, holding his wrist. "What's wrong?" she asked in an irritated way.
"My hand is burning!" Randall answered, shaking his hand.
Andrea looked closer and saw a red rash slowly forming on the palm of his hand.  "Oh, my God! Why does it look like that?"
"Because you pushed me and my hand touched the puddle on the table, baby brain!"
"Well, you should've been more careful."
"Gah! I wouldn't have touched the puddle if it weren't for your gorilla hands."
"Who you callin' a gorilla?"
At that moment, the middle-aged teacher, who looked more of a mountain climber, came by with an urgent look on his face. "What's going on?" he asked through his long, brown beard. "You guys have been shouting and whatnot. What seems to be the problem?"
"Her!" Randall answered, looking at Andrea then at his hand. "And this!"
"Oh, my God." The teacher put his hand over Randall's hand, which was holding his wrist. "You need to go get that rinsed."
"Hey, do you think my earrings came in contact with the puddle?" asked Andrea, truly curious. "Because I just bought those."

It Was Just a Kiss (Chapter 1)

"I'm so glad we're celebrating our three month anniversary at the place that we first met," Madeline confessed to her boyfriend, Homer.
"Well, how else are we going to celebrate the time of our relationship?" asked Homer.
"I don't know. A candlelit dinner at a five-star restaurant, maybe a yacht or--"
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry I haven't thought of that. But I'm not rich and experienced like you."
"Oh, honey, it's okay. Although you're poor and inexperienced, I still like you."
Homer chuckled. "You're such a smart aleck."
"Oh, smart I am."
"So you want me to buy some cotton candy before we start this thing off?"
"Gladly. Make sure it's pink."
"Anything for you, sweetie."
Madeline grinned at Homer before he went off to find the cotton candy stand. Madeline looked dreamily into the air while waiting for her generous boyfriend. She got out of dream state when she heard a guy call her name. She shot a look of confusion, thinking it was Homer. She turned around and saw a teenage guy approaching her. The closer he got, the more familiar he looked. But she could not put her finger on who he was.
"Oh, my goodness," he said, smiling. "It is you."
"Oh, my God," Madeline said, goggling at him. She finally remembered who he was. His black, fuzzy hair. His piercing blue eyes. His lankiness. The way his cheeks reddened like apples when he smiled. That guy was Jerry, the boy she met at the Masquerade Ball about two years ago. The boy who kissed her then got away. "Jerry, is that you?" she asked.
"Yeah! I'm so glad you remember me. All I do is think of you."
"What?"
"And my family moved back here so we can finally be together like you wanted."
"What?"
Jerry was so excited that he grabbed Madeline by the face and plant one right on her lips. Madeline did not kiss him back for obvious reasons. Her eyes were wider than ever. When Jerry let go of her, her wide eyes were staring straight at him out of shock.
"What?" all Madeline could utter.