Author's Notes: This chapter is also UNEDITED. So forgive me for the errors that are sure to ensue. I guess I'm getting lazy, but can you really blame me when it takes five hours to write a chapter? Hopefully not too much.

And thanks everyone for the reviews! Before I get started, I would just like to answer one question since most of you are probably wondering this as well.

Maddybenson—Good question! Talk of what Peyton is doing is just about to explode… Those who have been listening have been keeping it hush-hush, but also have been passing it along to others. I mean, who wants to keep a delicious secret to their self when they can indulge in the scandalous stories with their friends? Also I already believe a few Untouchables have been listening in, the Untouchables that still have a heart that is, and clandestinely support Peyton in her endeavors. But, of course, those who don't like their dirty laundry to hang out for the rest of the school to see will find out about the podcasts soon enough. Peyton's planned this for awhile now… and she's finally spilling the beans when she feels it's necessary to.

Also, the chapter's title is from "Walls" by the Envy Corps. If you're going to check out the Envy Corps, I suggest "Keys to Good Living" or "Story Problem."

Chapter Nine: I've survived the blast

Life since the "Jake: Explosion In Thy Face" is pretty much, well, better depending on the topic of the moment. The whispering has, for the most part, subsided. But just like getting a virus, this juicy piece of gossip is still in the talk steam of the school, even though the patient, or in this case Jake, hasn't shown signs of the virus since the first game of the playoffs doesn't mean it's not there anymore. But people have stopped talking about it mostly because he's laid low in school and played hard on the court—in face, he's become the second leading scorer on the Ravens' team. Ergo (that's my favorite word to use in an essay, by the way; the teachers eat it up like a pay raise), people have decided to talk about his hoss-like playing instead of his less than grandeur dating record.

But of course even though everyone seemed to find a better, more productive thing to talk about, I myself didn't have anything to think about other than that particular Raven. Don't get me wrong—I was glad everyone found something else to talk about, but everyone ought to know that I'm also a self-deprecate. I obsess over, analyze, and berate myself to no end over a certain mistake until some new, shitty thing I'ld done consumes my thoughts and replacing the last shitty thing I'd done instead. Surprise, surprise… I wouldn't let this one go, especially since I found it ironic that I was trying to cover my tracks for Operation: K-Roe, and yet I ended up hurting some innocent person in the crossfire. So I really hated myself… more than usual at least.

My dad was comforting though, which kind of surprised me since he didn't really approve of me going out with Jake to begin with. It wasn't that he didn't like Jake, but he knew that I was either going to end up hurting Lucas or Jake, or hell, hit a Grand Slam and hurt both of the boys… which I kind of did. But remember when he wanted to "talk to me in the morning" the night of the MD? Well, he really didn't take me up on that until he saw my morose state extend for more than any dad or caring parent would like to see.

I watched my bowl of Life cereal float lazily on its cold deathbed of milk. I couldn't help but think that I needed to get a happy thought in every now and then instead of thinking of soggy cereal during a downcast morning.

I heart footsteps walking into the kitchen, but I didn't look up to see who's they were. Neither Brooke nor Madison slept-over last night so the heavy steps had to belong to my father.

"Hey Sunshine!" My dad greeted cheerfully as he poured himself his usual cup of coffee.

Letting my spoon hit the bowl and make a clanking sound, I looked over at my dad and smirked the biggest freaking smirk I could work up this early in the morning.

Seeing my beautiful cynical self, my dad's eyebrows rose as he walked over and took his respective seat at the table. "Nice to see you're bright and happy this morning," he sarcastically said before he took a quick sip of his black coffee.

"Oh yes, definitely bright," I pause and brought attention to my all dark clothing topped off with a black and white striped hoodie that was zipped up half way to cover up some grease stains on my worn black Shout Out Louds shirt—I didn't want a tight-ass teacher getting all bitchy with me about the school dress code. "And definitely… happy 'cause, you know, I've been such a happy person lately."

My father started to choke on his coffee, obviously because he thought my less than jovial rant was funny or sad or both.

I didn't say anything moreover because I didn't want to be the ultimate bitch to my dad. So I bit my tongue and took the raucous laughter as a long deserved "if you play with fire and get burned, I'll have rites to laugh long and hard at you."

After a few more seconds, I got sick of a full grown man laughing like a toddler hyper from pixie sticks and from his daily dose of Riddlin, so I got up, practically threw my bowl and spoon into the sink which resounded a big smash, and almost made it out of the kitchen when I heard, "All right, I'll stop!"

I stopped dead in my tracks when he said that, which caused a huge debate between the angel and demon on my shoulders to arise. The angel said, "Turn around—you know you've been wanting your dad's advice since this whole thing happened." Then the demon weighed in with his two cents. "Screw him! If all he wants to do is laugh at you, you shouldn't have to deal with his high and might shit. You've got better things to do."

Even though the demon made a damn good point, I couldn't just ignore my dad. So I reluctantly turned around, crossed my arms, and leaned against the counter.

Raising his hands as if to say 'Don't shoot,' my dad started to dish his thoughts. "Maybe I shouldn't have laughed at you, I bet you've been getting a lot of crap at school over the matter so it was wrong of me to laugh at you. I'm sorry, Goldilocks."

Exhaling heavily, I replied begrudgingly, "It's okay."

"No, it's not—I mean, look! You're standing as far away as possible, you're arms are crossed, and your brows are furrowed. The brow thing is a classic 'I'm pissed' look. Your mother would do the same thing when she was aggravated." He pointed to my chair at the table. "Please, sit. I promise I won't be cruel like the kids at school must be."

He was trying, so I took my seat at the table to humor him, but that didn't mean my heels dragging all the way over there in the process.

"Okay that's kind of better—you still have the brow thing going on so hopefully I can make that up to you." He looked over at me with his brown eyes heavy with sadness. "So you're obviously pretty banged up with the Jake thing."

Shrugging my shoulders and clearing my throat, I replied, "Yeah, I've tried everything when it comes to apologizing, but he doesn't want to hear it. I really hurt him… It turned out that I was his the girl, so that kind of makes guilt be on max right now."

Nodding his head in an understanding manner, my dad continued. "Well, that's expected. You know you were wrong and hearing that the night was extra special to him makes you feel even worse."

I tried to swallow the painful lump in my throat.

"But," my dad strived on, "you have apologized numerously, so the ball is in his court. If he wants to forgive you, he will. If he wants to talk to you, he will. If he doesn't want to do either of those things, he won't. It's as simple as a rubrics cube, really."

"I know," I started exasperatedly, sitting up on the edge of my seat and leaning against the oak table, "it's just I'm afraid he doesn't understand how terrible I feel about it. I feel like when I'm making progress in getting the point across, he somehow finds a way to make me eat my words."

He started nodding again. I liked that he understood and I liked that I was able to have this conversation with him when so many teens my age rather be medicated than talk to their parents. "All I can say, Peyt, is that that's how he's dealing with it. He wants to be angry with you, so let him have his anger. I'm sure when this is all said and done with, he'll see that he was no better than you were by treating you this way. Just give him his time and space because that's obviously what he wants. Okay?"

I didn't like the answer, but, I mean, why would I? I wanted Jake to forgive me. I wanted him to see how convicted I was about it. I wanted him to know what I was fighting for and why I wrongly used him. But my dad was a guy and he did have years of experience in management on the ships he worked soothing out differences between people, so who else would have better advice than him?

"Okay," I whispered roughly as I played with my hoodie's strings.

I got up and rounded the table. "I love you, Papa," I told him as I hugged him.

Laughing slightly, "I love you too, Goldilocks."

I broke away from the hug and looked at my black rocker watch. Seeing that it was 15 minutes until the tardy bell, I decided I had to make a break for school.

I must say now that I was glad my dad gave me the advice he gave me. If Jake wanted to be angry with me, he could; he had every right to. I just needed to accept that there are consequences to everything and I wasn't going to brood over them any longer. Why waste your life?

Anyways, good things that followed the MD was Brooke and Nathan becoming a real couple as well as Madison and Liam becoming one as well. The school was buzzing about their new two favorite thoroughbred couples to gawk at. Of course, many of Nathan's U.F.'s, which consisted of almost the entirety of the female student body, were crushed. But they were glad he was with Brooke; after all, they loved her as well, especially for her fashion style, overall sweetness factor, and if she was good for Nathan, she was good for them. Others weren't as surprised by Madli (pronounced like "madly"—that's what people dubbed them as) simply because people were pairing them together ever since Madison stepped foot in the school.

Of course, with all of this buzz and love hanging in the air, I couldn't help but feel a tad bit jealous. Both of my best friends got all of the benefits of dating a fellow Untouchable—PDA, walking to class with each other while holding hands all the way there, going to their team practice and cheering for them, being openly giddy, and the like. What did I get by dating an Everybody? A secret hide-out or a utility closet.

Don't get me wrong—I'm insanely happy with Lucas. He's everything I've dreamed about and more, the perfect guy to make my Fall for. But can you blame me for wanting to walk to class with Lucas with other fingers intertwined, laughing about something funny, and then right before I go into my class and he heads to his, I give him a peck on the lips and say, "See you after class, Luke." I bet some of you are snickering about how cheesy that sounds, and it is, but I want everything with Lucas and I couldn't have it, at least not yet.

I didn't have to wallow alone though, I did have Cassie after all. Her date with Thomas was must've not gone exactly great because from what she said, he ended up being a complete jerk the entire time. Cassie didn't go into details with any of us about how he was a jerk, but we already knew that Cassie was one of those people you would never be able to get too much information out of if she didn't want to give you the info to begin with. So none of us asked anymore questions. But she, like me, had to walk the halls boy-less behind Brathan and Madli, who acted couple-like, which made me want to ask Cassie if she had a pistol and a single bullet to play some Russian Roulette.

I must sound like a horrible friend for saying that, but whatever. I was kind of bitter with it and I'm not going to lie about it on my own podcast. So sorry Brooke and Madison if you're listening now, it's nothing against ya'll, it's my own shit.

Back on subject now! I got to vent all of that pent up jealousy of Brathan and Madli when I saw Lucas everyday in his hide-out in the woods after school each day. We both mutually agreed that if we didn't want to get caught canoodling in school, we shouldn't canoodle during school, so to the hide-out we came.

Sometimes we just hung out and pigged out on various snacks there while other times we worked up an appetite and then there were times we did everything like a person who only had a day left to live. But a particular ever looming subject was definitely becoming more and more apparent each time kept breaking our own Rules of Engagement, also known as boundaries: sex.

Despite many people believing I'm a slut and sleep with any guy who takes me out, that is not the case. I'd only slept with one guy in my whole four years of dating, which is definitely a smaller number than some of those skank-turned-clean-teen kids at Tree Hill High. It was during my Sophomore year when many of the girls in my class had already lost their virginity and bragged about it constantly. Many girls thought it was weird that I didn't lose it yet; after all, if I was trying to get rid of Miss GTS persona, so why hadn't I done it yet? I didn't ask Dani what I should do simply because I felt really embarrassed by it, so I just decided to sleep with Reagan Sorenson, who was a Senior and who I was dating at the time. He was a nice guy-- very Nathan-like-- and hadn't pressured me at all into going further than I wanted to. So at one party I got a little tipsy and told him to take me up to a room. Hopefully I don't need to explain what "getting a room" means to any of you kids out there, so I'm going leave it at that.

But I guess what I'm trying to say is that I had boundaries with every guy I dated. Whether they respected them or not depended on if we were going to get another date with me or not. It wasn't Lucas pushing the line a bit, it was me. I was breaking my own little rules and it felt great doing so.

Resting his chin lightly on the top of my head, Lucas rubbed my back softly. I loved sitting there on that comfy couch with him and just listen to each other breathe in and out. I felt whole and safe when I felt his arms wrapped around me with his heartbeat steady as well as his breathing. I loved the way his neck smelled—as if he had just slept for an eternity and solely woke up to see me and lay with me.

All of a sudden, the smooth yearning voice of Jeremy Enigk cooed off and a more guitar-driven number by the Stereophonics overcame the stereo.

"I love 'Devil' by 'em, it's such a sexy song." I replied shifting so I could look up at Lucas.

He was scruffy from not shaving for a day or two. If I had to choose him clean-shaven or scruffy, I would definitely choose scruffy. I loved it when he didn't shave, and he must've known that somehow because he didn't shave as often as he used to. His blue eyes met mine and he smiled, "Yeah it is a sexy song."

Once I saw that his eyes were as piercing as they were, I knew what was going to come—a kiss.

The kisses that followed seemed to mimic the song completely. It started off sensually slow, but then when the chorus hit, we would be all over each other. Like for instance, when he would be kissing my neck, my hands would be up his shirt feeling his toned back or they would be entangled in his jagged, blonde hair. Other times, we would just be kissing each other fervently and my hands would slide down to his stomach, which was adorned nicely with structured abs, and then they would slide back up to his chest and I would feel his racing heart under my palms. Feeling his heart race was like feeling butterflies burst from my stomach except so much better and alleviating.

While I was more willing to explore and venture, his hands were more hesitant to roam. I didn't take it as an insult like many girls my age would—I liked having Lucas as a guy who didn't want to feel me up every time we kissed (I kind of liked having that as my job).

Breaking from the hot and heavy make-out, Lucas smiled at me. "Y'know, I think we lived up to the song's expectations."

Playing with his hands, I laughed. "Yes, I think we would've made Kelly and boys very proud with our intensity and hotness. Too bad it wasn't for a mainstream movie or else we would've gotten the Best Kiss Award at the MTV Movie Awards."

"Ugh, I don't know— I think Sacha Baron Cohen and Will Ferrell definitely hit a home run with theirs." Lucas replied jokingly as he watched me play with his hands.

I was immediately drawn to his word choice—hitting a home run. Whether you were born yesterday or not, usually everyone knows how innuendo-filled conversations use baseball terms in place of certain graphically inclined words. Was he implying something more than just their kiss in Talladega Nights or was my hormones taking over? Either way, I could see myself doing exactly that: making love to this lanky goofball I was already falling fast for.

After a few seconds of my quiet contemplation, he must've taken note of what he actually said and saw the elephant in the room plain and clear. He started to blush as he laughed, "Sorry, I'm not trying to hint at anything. I mean, I'm a blundering idiot when it comes to putting my hands on you—"

"You're not a blundering idiot," I interrupted softly, which caused him to look at me and smile slightly, more so out of 'You're just telling me that 'cause I'm your boyfriend' rather than because he believed.

He shook his head, about to say something when I cut him off with a kiss. "You're not," I said in the most assuring way as possible after breaking the kiss, "a blundering idiot, I promise." Skipping a beat and kind of realizing where his hand was then, I continued on. "Besides, if you were such a blundering idiot, why would your right hand be where it was now?"

Lucas seemed to not have noticed that his right hand was placed extremely high on my thigh. Blushing again, Lucas was about to say something, but I didn't wait around to hear what it was—I pounced.

I really liked this guy.

Even though I was really accustomed to being in the hide-out, Haley wasn't accustomed of me being in the hide-out. Sure, I frequented there everyday almost now for almost two whole months, but Haley wasn't used to seeing my face there and probably had no idea of my frequents there. She probably just thought that Lucas and I did our thing in the Library everyday, but in her hide-out as well. It must've seemed blasphemous for her.

I was sitting on the comfy couch, flipping through channels, chewing on some Skittles, and waiting for Lucas to get here from school. I had an okay day at school with little happening to make it a great day and little happening to make it a bad day. I just wanted to spend some time with him so it could turn out to be a better day, so when I heard a car pull up outside, I figured it was my boyfriend. But the person that walked in huffily definitely wasn't my boyfriend.

Haley looked at my with her jaw cocked. She looked like she either A.) didn't have a good day at school, B.) didn't like seeing me here, or C.) all of the above. I decided it was safe to guess choice C because, hell, I knew Haley didn't like seeing me on her turf just like an Untouchable wouldn't like seeing her at the Pier on a Friday or Saturday night (depending on which night a party took place).

Unlike her usual greetings, she didn't say anything rude or witty to me. Instead she just threw off her messenger bag indifferently and walked over to the fridge and grabbed a soda.

I deliberated whether it was smart for me to say something or not. I mean, I can hold my own but having Pissy!Haley was a handful and Lucas probably wouldn't be all too happy either finding his best friend hacked off at his girlfriend hacked off and the other way around.

I chose that I rather just keep silent and find something to watch instead—can't be too safe when it came to Haley. So there I sat, flipping through the channels, waiting for my boyfriend to come when all of a sudden I heard this slam of aluminum meeting a countertop.

Spinning around as much as I could while sitting down, I saw Haley starting daggers—massive daggers, I might add—at me.

"Y'know, many people find channel surfing a pet peeve," Haley spat over at me, "and I happen to be one of those people. So pick a channel and stick with it because I'm really not in the mood to hear integrated, illogical sentences about babies killing Home Depot while the shampoo really tasted up some of the sun—Gnarly dude."

Reminding myself that I should stop staring at Haley before she decided to pick another meaningless fight, I turned around and mumbled a "Sorry." I found a show that I really didn't pay much attention to; I just mindlessly watched it to keep myself entertained until Lucas came.

"God! I hate that show!" Haley, who sounded like she was seething, said as she continued her kitchen adventure in the back.

My patience started to wear thin by this point. Sure, I didn't want to fight with Haley, but she was really asking for it. But I bit my tongue—I wasn't going to let her pick the battle. Plus, I didn't want Lucas upset that Haley and I got into.

Instead, I tried to fixate on the TV show, which was a Saved by the Bell re-run, and eat my Skittles. Following the show better now that I was really willing myself to, I laughed at the cheesiness that overflowed from the episode—Zach and Slater were fighting over Kelly once again and were trying to undermine each other by convincing Kelly of something horrible or extreme happening to their opponent.

Seeing that I had finished my Skittles, I readied myself to get up and throw the plastic wrapper away. When I walked over to the trashcan, threw the red wrapper away, and turned around I almost ran head-on into Haley.

Obviously frazzled and pissed off, she ordered me to, "Move!"

"I'm sorry, Haley. It's not like I heard you come up behind me." I apologized while I moved out of her way.

"Of course you did because that shit you're watching is loud enough to keep us from hearing a freaking banshee scream." She said sarcastically as she scraped out a random Tupperware container.

Laughing a little bit just because I couldn't take it anymore, I stood right next her. "You might think I'm trying to annoy you and make your life a living hell by actually liking Lucas, you're wrong. It's not like I enjoy you yelling at me every five seconds about something I'm doing wrong or just merely existing."

It was her turn to laugh now. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you don't get a hoot out of it when you recall it to your, oh so cute BFF's!" She was mocking me now.

"Where do you get off! All I'm trying to do is build bridges, but you seem to like burning them down every chance you get."

"Oh, poor Peyton Sawyer!" Haley threw back at me as she finished scraping out the Tupperware and walked over to the sink to wash it out. "Why the hell do you care if I despise you or like you."

I followed her over there, but keeping my distance because you could never be too sure with that firecracker of a person. "Is it not that obvious?"

"What? You trying to alienate me so Lucas can yell at me," she was really scrubbing that Tupperware now, she must've been really agitated.

"Don't make it seem like I'm sabotaging your friendship with Lucas. It's not as if he hasn't pleaded with me to be cordial to you. Hell, I'm trying my hardest to get you to see I'm being civil and then you can start being that with me, so maybe your best friend won't be mad at you because of me and my boyfriend won't be mad at me because of you!" Man, did I light the fire or what? I kind of shocked myself with how quickly and passionately I shot back. Haley looked like she was especially taken aback because she forgot that she was washing dishes all completely.

"If you don't want to fine with me, okay," I started again. "But at least be deft about it."

At that moment, the person we both were waiting for to finally get there came through the door.

He must've been curious to see both of us within such a close proximity to each other—we were usually on separate ends of the shack until he walked in.

"What are you guys doing?" He asked timidly, thinking it was too good to be true that his best friend and his girlfriend were actually making nice and talking to each other in the kitchen. He must've not heard us shouting.

I didn't know what to say, I was kind of frozen in my tracks. It was as if I was a mannequin with my jaw hanging open slightly out of stupidity and shock.

"Oh we were just talking about our days," Haley tossed out there in a very convincing manner. "It seems as if both of our were pretty rotten, so we were kind of comparing them. It looks like Peyton won though because that one kid, Bryan Kethers, was her partner in Physics. You know the one with the weird breathing thing?"

I stood there just like I had when Lucas asked us what we were doing, except I was looking at Haley with my mouth slightly agape ignorantly instead of Lucas.

"Ew, yeah, I would say Peyton had the worse day." Lucas joked as he took off his light jacket.

Smiling, Haley laughed and turned the water faucet off, "Yeah, it seems like she did."

As Lucas plopped himself down on the couch, I turned to Haley again. She looked over at me, shrugged, and whispered, "I'm game for civility." After she said that she wiped her hands off on a random towel and took a seat to the left of Lucas.

Kind of confused but at the same time very proud of myself for making a point with the Queen of Points, I too walked over and sat down to the right of Lucas. Looking over at my boyfriend and seeing how happy he was with having his best friend and girlfriend to both of his sides made me really happy.

Now with me and Haley on civil terms, life seemed pretty dandy to me. Sure, I knew I was going to have to make my Fall in about two months time, but that put a damper on anything—it actually caused me to be even more happy with everything going on.

School seemed to progress in a very backwards kind of way. It seemed like everyone, especially the Seniors, were getting Senioritis. We all seemed to be over the school year that still had many days left in it. But one certain person seemed adamant about making these last few weeks count was Shelly Simon the Queen Bee of Clean Teens.

Shelly started up a club called Ravens Making Havens, which was geared to fundraising for organizations that help build refugee camps all over the world. Practically her entire Clean Teen crew got involved in it immediately because, well, were they going to let their leader down? Hell no, especially not if she had the power to deem one of them the next President of Clean Teens. People from all sorts of cliques were interested in the club that this do-gooder started up—even some of us Untouchables. But of course, there was that one prominent bitch that seemed to think this cause was "gay" and she was none other than Rachel. So, for the millionth time it seemed, Rachel decided to pick on someone who couldn't fight back.

Milling through the halls of Tree Hill is easy for Untouchables and a tricky task for the Everybody. People seem to part, dodge, step, and move out of the way so they wouldn't insult us by cutting us off or accidentally running into us.

Another weird thing about the halls of Tree Hill is the communication system. There were two ways to really spread something around the school: gossiping out loud and gossiping through passing notes into each other's lockers. Both very effective ways to spread news, but one quicker than the other (the first) while one was more secretive (the latter).

Clubs used the second one for alerting the student body of an upcoming meeting by getting to school a few minutes before everyone else and slipping the bulletin into each locker of the school. Whether you were a member of that club or not, you knew about it. But even though it was a very accessible and easy way to pass the word on, it annoyed a lot of people at the same time. Sometimes people would get twenty little slips of paper telling you about French Club, Chess Club, Guitar Club, Kite Club, Role Playing Guild, and other meaningless clubs having a meeting or starting up soon. I must admit that I felt kind of overwhelmed by the mountain of multicolored bulletins in my locker that I would have to wade through to get out a specific book while juggling other things I needed.

So it was no surprise that Ravens Making Havens used the same method as many clubs before. No one expected though to be publicly humiliated for it.

I was opening my locker right when hallway activity was at its peak in the morning. People were heading to class, coming in, rushing to their friends lockers to chat quickly, yelling at friends from across the hall, and the like. When I opened my locker finally after saying hi to the person next to me, a really nice girl named Claire, I saw the usual neon bright piece of paper.

"I wonder who's having a meeting today!" I joked sarcastically out loud to no one in particular as I grabbed my AP Art Studio sketchbook as well as my Physics book. When I had my needed supplies resting against my inner forearm and my stomach, I opened the neon green sliver of paper.

It read: Help raise money for refugees of war-havocked countries! Come to classroom B-12 after school to become apart of a special club determined to make a difference in the world. – Shelly Simons, Founder of Ravens Making Havens

Folding mine back up, I placed it back in my locker. Not really thinking much about it, I closed my locker and started to make my way to class. That is, until Rachel decided to throw her weekly bitch fit.

"For crying out loud!" She yelled as she handed her books over to some random U.F. standing there at the moment. He seemed like he was in heaven for being able to hold Elmo's books.

Everyone seemed to halt in the hall, besides me (I really just wanted to get to class), but I found that with no one else moving and clogging the hallway up, I couldn't. So I had to watch the self-righteous puppet-esque drama queen have my bored attention.

Brooke came up behind me and nodded off towards Rachel, "What's her deal?"

"I have no idea, but I'm in no mood to fucking deal with it today." I remarked dryly as I looked over at Rachel with my eyebrows furrowed.

Some anonymous person shouted, "Get the show on the road, Honey—I don't have all day." Many people murmured in agreement, which seemed to make Rachel speed up the process because she didn't want to pitch a fit without anyone watching, after all.

Turning around and holding up the same neon green bulletin I had found in my locker. "How many times do I have to tell all of you that my locker does no include your Life Savin', Help Others, AIDS awareness, Don't Have Sex Freaks?!"

Everyone, including all of the Everybodys that loved a good showdown, seemed to think this was a stupid reason to cause a L.A. like traffic jam in the halls. People started to move along, but Rachel being the fiend that she is, upped the juiciness factor.

"Shelly Simon—you little do-gooder bitch!" Rachel shouted at the top of her lungs causing everyone that was moving to stop immediately and "ohhhhh!"

I looked over and Brooke and rolled my eyes; we both knew what was coming and didn't have time for it since both of our classes were on the opposite side of the school.

I guess Rachel found Shelly in the crowd and decided to yell at her point blank. "Get this Miss Clean Teen or Miss Ex-Whore, which ever you like to be called or known as these days. Don't put shit like this in my locker ever again or else we'll have a problem."

But before people could have time to react, I was already over the situation and pissed off it had to throw off my morning routine. I mean, I was already in good mood because I had some Starbucks before I came to school and this was just making a good day go downhill. "Oh shut up, Rachel!" I shouted. "Are you on the rag today or something? If so, I guess the bitchiness is kind of accounted for, but the again, not really since you pull this shit almost every single day. So if you don't mind, I'd like to get to class. Let's go people, move it along now!" I started to usher people to get moving.

Some hooted while others hollered at my outright slam on Rachel. I didn't really care though because I had to get to class before the tardy bell rang, so I had more important things on my mind than embarrassing Rachel and reveling in it.

That day went on like any other normal day for me. I went to class, tried to stay awake, took notes sleepily, and took a quiz here or there. But to make the day less normal was how people kept whispering "way to go" or "damn" when I passed by. I couldn't help but laugh if they were still on about the Rachel thing earlier today, but hey, I guess it was a slow day Gossip Mill wise.

When I made to my locker again to switch out books and notebooks for my third through fourth block classes, all I was thinking about was lunch 'cause, man, was I hungry. I'm a girl that has to eat every three hours because my metabolism burns through all my meals so quickly. But anyways, for the second time that day, I opened my locker and found a bulletin. If you're a Tree Hill student listening right now, you know it's an odd thing to get a bulletin halfway through the school day—they usually do the locker thing in the morning 'cause that's when everyone is certain to go to their locker.

I looked over at Claire to see if she was holding what I was looking at in my locker because she was the type, like I was, to read the sliver of paper instead of just crumbling it and tossing it on the floor like many of the potheads and jocks did. She wasn't so I supposed it was meant for me.

Picking up the neon colored paper that was wider than the one this morning—and for many bulletins, for that matter—I opened to see what it was.

It read:

Dear Peyton,

Thanks for helping me out in the hall earlier. I just wanted to personally extend an invitation to you for today's Ravens Making Havens meeting. I would be soooooo honored to have you there, and it would make my day!

Shelly Simon

P.S. I have to tell you something that's been on my mind lately.

Right at that moment, Brooke and Madison snuck up behind me.

"Hey P. Sawyer!" They both shouted, trying to give me a heart attack.

Still holding the note and having the same hand rest over my heart. "For the love of God—stop doing that to me! You know how prone I am for whacking my head against a locker and then getting a concussion."

Both of them were in hysterics, to say the least. "Yeah," Madison said in between laughs, "we know—that's why we do it!"

"Well ya'll are great friends then," I replied laughing a bit, grabbing everything I needed, like my lunch, and started heading toward the courtyard.

I guess Brooke saw that I was clasping a neon note, she decided to ask the million dollar question. "What's that bulletin about? Rachel being a bitch?" We all started laughing at that.

"No," I replied by handing the note over to Brooke to read and then Madison.

They both started to squirm, something I didn't expect. "What?"

Again, they both squirmed but then they looked over at me as if I'm totally oblivious, which I was. "It totally sounds like you've gotten her to switch teams, Peyton."

"What?!" I said rather loudly causing people in the hall to look over at me as if I just caused their eardrums burst.

Brooke and Madison started to giggle. "This is what she's going to say," Brooke exclaimed. She then cleared her throat, probably preparing to go down to a lower register in her voice—the voice she saved when she wanted to sound sexy and alluring. "Peyton, I've loved you ever since I saw you in that hot plaid squirt back in Freshman year!" I found all of us laughing at what Brooke was parodying. That's when she continued, "Wow, P. Sawyer you've got both sides rooting for you now!"

I felt bad for laughing, but I couldn't help myself—it was funny. Trying to bring both of their attentions to me now, I asked, "So are we going to go? This Ravens Making Havens thing sounds really good—we'll help refugees that are escaping genocide and kids that have been orphaned since both of their parents died from tribal rivalries. This is something that would help all of us sleep better at nights."

"No way! I don't want her slipping me any love note telling me that she has to 'tell me something that's been on her mind.'" Brooke squealed and Madison nodded emphatically at the same time.

I didn't want to go by myself, so I decided that if Brooke and Madison weren't going to go, then I wouldn't either. I mean, it's not like she would notice my absence even if she personally left me the invite, well, personally left my locker the invite.

"All right, I guess I won't go either," I said slumping down at our usual table under the Maple tree in the courtyard.

I mean, what was I going to miss out on that the next Ravens Making Havens bulletin wouldn't inform me of?

XXXXXXXX (Change of POV)

She didn't come. Why didn't she come? Did my note slip out unbeknownst her when she opened her locker? It's plausible, heck, even plausible! But then again… not likely.

Maybe she had something else going on? Was cheerleading still going on? Well, of course, it's the playoffs, but they only have practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays because Rachel can't have Jewels meetings after school on those days. Oh great! I have a Jewels meeting tonight, and I get to see my favorite person, especially today of all days

I looked down at my simple, but elegant watch my Grandmother gave me on my fifteenth birthday. It was 6:37—I had twenty-three minutes to get to Rachel's house and not be late. Very doable.

After a ten minute drive to Rachel's secluded million dollar house, I walked into the well decorated bedroom that every Jewels meeting was held at. Even though many girls thought it was an honor being in the home of their leader, I found it disconcerting. After all, Rachel was just a manipulator and bully, who reaped satisfaction out of others' pain.

I took my usual seat on the wooden chest that was reserved only for the two highest officers under Rachel: Theresa and me.

Random privates and corporals bathed me with how they thought my performance today was dead-on. They were idiotic enough to believe that Rachel and I planned out that little scene in the hall earlier to protect my undercover-like status as well as help Rachel's name as a powerful person the school boost. I thanked them anyways, after all I wasn't going to let them think I was just going to be called a "little bitch" or a "ex-whore" for no reason. Like Rachel, I too had a reputation to protect with this group.

Even though I was first lieutenant, which me I was pretty powerful, today showed me that I was just as dispensable as an ordinary Everybody. If I was really so meaningful to this group, why was I publicly humiliated and degraded as if I was Rachel's U.F. Mouth?

I needed to talk to Peyton.

Right at that moment, the bathroom door opened, like it usually does because Rachel felt like she was too good to socialize with the members.

Everyone started to clap at her entrance, which was normal and definitely fed her ego, no doubt. She loved attention—any and every kind of it. Man, did I want to her attention all right, but now was not the time. I had to wait and be smart about it, so I played on like I was her biggest and most gullible fan.

"Thank you, everyone." Rachel started with the fakest smile on her face. "As you all know, we have a very important person here today!"

When Rachel said this, I was reminded of last meeting when Rachel tentatively said that the undercover Jewel might just make an appearance this meeting.

Knowing that this person had infiltrated the Three Amigas, I knew that this could be my chance to have the laugh at the expense of another—that person being Rachel.

People again clapped during this little pause, and on autopilot I did as well. Heck, I didn't want to draw attention to myself by not.

Waiting for us to stop clapping, Rachel stood up there stoically. Once we had finished, she continued on. "I need to reiterate what I had a few meetings back before I ask her to come out that if any of you fuck this up by shooting your mouth off you're going to be seen as a leper by the entire student body."

I looked around the room at my fellow Jewels—they were all frightened of Rachel. Terror practically pained their brows!

"Okay, now that I've warned you all, I can ask her to come out now." She looked over at the bathroom and said, "Give a Jewels welcome to Cassandra!"

For some reason the name didn't click until I saw her come out of the bathroom. I had hit the jackpot and no one but me knew it—the rat was none other than Cassie, Brooke's little sister.

People stood up like fan-girls at a boy band concert and cheered for Cassie. I stood for her too, but not in the way everyone was. I tipped my hat for her because she was my ticket to getting Rachel back, and back hard.

Smirking to myself, I couldn't help but think, "Game on Rachel. Let's see who has the hand on the Three Amigas now. I'll just bide my time now for the perfect moment."

Author's Notes: Hopefully you all thought that this chapter was better than the last. Personally, I feel much better about this chapter than Being An Ass Just Comes Naturally. Obviously there was more LP, as well as less JP, and then more development in the storyline.

If I did my job right, there isn't a question as to why Shelly tried to contact Peyton earlier. I really wanted to give Shelly a hard, cold reason to screw Rachel over and there's nothing more motivating than being publicly dismissed to get revenge. A la, Shelly's not play slow pitch anymore, it's all the way up to fast pitch. The ball's in her hands very much so right now, it really comes down to when she feels like going for the jugular.

Larry and Peyton moments… I love the daughter-father stuff, honestly. I wish there was more on the show, especially since Peyton's always had the phantom of wanting to know her mom, both of them on the show, and to make matters worse, her dad is rarely around. So I really wanted to have a more prominent Larry in this story as well as make him more loveable and enjoyable for ya'll. On the show, he's never around to play that caring parent that she's in dire of need sometimes, especially after Psycho!Derek and meeting real Derek. But I guess that's just a motive for more Larry in this story, so I hope you all are okay with that.

Then the Peyton and Haley interaction. I really wanted to have them kind of make peace… kind of. I just wanted them to be all right being in the same room as each other—it was mainly just Haley's problem 'cause she hates Capones as you all know. So I really wanted to just show them making nice. I'm not sure if any of you are Paley friendship fans, but I am, so I guess I'm just selfish this chapter. Lol.

But anyways, please tell me your thoughts on this chapter! I love, love, love reading your thoughts on every chapter. Many of you write a good deal, and believe me I read every last word of it. You all are very attentive and intuitive people, which is awesome to know because it makes writing much more fun. So please, rant or ramble! I love it when ya'll do. Lol.

If you weren't satisfied, don't be afraid to tell me that as well as what will make you happier. I'll try to incorporate more of what you're interested in then next time.

I hope you all loved it! Until next time!

-Caley