A/N: Okay guys, here's the deal. I was looking through the Gone fanfiction, when I realized that no one has done a parody of this story yet. Unbelievable, but true. And, since I'm known for doing strange and whacky things, I figured, what the heck? Why not?

Please be aware that in this story, characters get either very OOC or very OIC. There is no in between ground. No one in this story is safe, or is normal. You have been warned.

Dedication: To Michael Grant. For creating an amazing story, and making it hard to find ways to make fun of it. Sure, I found a way to do it anyway, but that's only because my brain is not wired the way most human brains are…hehe…

Declaimer: I own nothing. Cool?

Chapter 1: School. Is. OUT!!! (includes the first five chapters of Gone)

Sam Temple was sitting at his desk when It happened. He was staring out the window, his mind with the surf and the sand, his teacher droning on and on about the Civil War. No one was listening to him; Mary Terrafino was eating a Sinkers Bar and drumming her fingers on her desk; Quinn Gaither, seated behind Sam, was sleeping; Kangaroo Kelly, also known as Bouncer Bette, was texting on her cell phone. In fact, it was Bette who first alerted them to the problem. If her phone hadn't suddenly blinked out of service, her connection cut off, and started complaining, none of the other ninth graders might have noticed that their teacher, Mr. Trentlake, was gone.

Poof.

Gone.

"Hey!" Kangaroo Kelley/Bouncer Bette yelled. "What the hell happened to my service?" She repeatedly banged her cell on her desk, causing Sam to snap out of his daydream. It was then that kids began to notice Mr. Trentlake's disappearance.

"Hey…where'd our teacher go?" Mary asked. Quinn jerked up from his nap.

"Whoa there, chill. Just cool it, girl. You're ruining my mellow." Quinn's head slumped back onto the desk. Sam shook his head and was about to jerk his friend awake when the classroom door opened. Sam froze; it was Astrid Ellison.

Astrid Ellison had to be the nerdiest girl in all the school. She was placed in all the advanced classes and could tell you the diameter of Jupiter off the top of her head. But social skills? She possessed none. Especially around Sam. It was common knowledge that she had a huge crush on him, knowledge that Sam regretted knowing.

Today Astrid was looking especially dorky. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun; her wire-rimmed glasses hung askew on her pointed nose; pimples and sweat covered her face ("Did you know that the pimples on my forehead form a perfect isosceles triangle?" she'd once told Sam.), and she looked as though she'd been running. Her stained blouse hung half in and half out of her overalls, and she blushed as she met Sam's eyes. Sam groaned internally; out of all the kids in Perdido Beach School, why did it have to be Astrid the Semi-Genius to come and check up on them?

"D-do any of you know where your teacher is?" she asked. The new kid, Edilio Escobar, shook his head.

"No, senorita, we don't." Astrid blushed again.

"Oh. 'Cause mine's gone. Like, poof."

"Poof?" Sam asked despite himself. Astrid nodded eagerly, happy for the attention.

"Yeah. Poof. Didn't you see it?" Sam, embarrassed, declined answering. Luckily, he didn't have to.

"Of course he didn't," Quinn said. "What do you think we do in class all day? Stare at the teacher?" Sam was about to tell Quinn that, yes, you were supposed to stare at the teacher all day, when a crash sounded from outside. Sam, Quinn, and Astrid exchanged glances for a moment before rushing outside.

In the hallways kids were streaming out of classrooms, screaming with joy. Some were racing down the halls, tearing sheets of paper from notebooks and yelling, "School's Out!!!" at the top of their lungs. Quinn grinned lazily.

"My kinda people," he said. Astrid stuck out her lower lip.

"Shouldn't we find out what happened to the adults? And the other kids? There were three guys in my math class, and they went poof, too." Sam shrugged.

"Eh, who cares?" he asked. Sam and Quinn exchanged high-fives.

"We all should!" Astrid exclaimed with growing confidence. "What if we're next? Besides, I have to find my brother, to make sure he's okay." Astrid got a dreamy expression on her face, to which Sam rolled his eyes.

It was also common knowledge that Astrid doted on her brother, Petey. She called him 'Little Pete' and was constantly worried about him. She walked him to school each morning and prepared his dinner each night. The kid was five years old for Christ's sake! And Astrid treated him like a baby. It had, at one time, been believed by Astrid's parents that Pete was autistic, but that theory went down the drain when Pete demanded a dog for his fourth birthday. Now the common theory was that Pete was just plain whacked. He had the IQ of Einstein himself, and acted like a bratty teenager. No one could figure Pete out. Even his parents were wary of him. Sam pitied the Ellison's. No one should have to be cursed with children like Astrid and Pete.

"Hey! There's no signal!" Sam turned to the sound of the panicked voice. A seventh grade girl was holding up her cell and frantically dialing numbers. Within seconds every kid in the hall had out his or her cell phone and was dialing random numbers.

"What the…no signal?!"

"Damnit! How am I supposed to order my pepperoni pizza now?"

"What?! No internet! What happened to Facebook?"

The second the news that Facebook was out spread to the main stream population of the school, chaos erupted. You could teleport away all the adults, shut down the internet, and kill the phone lines, and kids would survive. But, if you shut off Facebook….

"HOLY CRAP!!" a sixth grader screamed. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! IT'S TE APOCOLIPSE! IT'S 2012! GOD HAS COME TO JUDGE US ALL! RUN FOR YOUR FREAKING LIVES!!!!!"

As soon as this was said, a stampede of kids ran for the front doors of the school, each child kicking and clawing, fighting to get out. Sam, Astrid, and Quinn were swept up in the crowd, all running for the doors. Sam's first thought was, Oh thank god; we lost Astrid. But then vise-like fingers gripped Sam's arm as Astrid fought her way through the crowd to hang onto him. Sam tried, and failed, to wrench Astrid off of him, but the girl had the grip of an Olympic champion.

As soon as they were out the doors, the sounds of sirens wailing and car alarms beeping hit them. Every kid stopped, unsure, for a moment at the base of the steps. And then the schizophrenic sixth grader spoke up.

"THE ANGELS! THAT'S THE SOUND OF ANGELS ATTACKING US! RUN! RUN, BEFORE THYE SEND SMALL CHILDREN WITH KNIFES TO COME AND KILL US ALL!!"

And so the insane party of kids rushed down the street at full speed, running into quite a few buildings and cars during their rampage. Sam watched with mild interest as the mob ran down Main Street, shrieking and hollering. A few kindergarteners shook their heads in disgust as they walked quietly home.

"So…" Astrid said after a moment. "What now?" Sam shrugged.

"I'm gonna go check on the status at my house; see if the 'rents poofed," Quinn said. "You comin'?"

"Sure," Sam said. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

"I'll go, too," Astrid said, pushing her glasses further up her nose. "That way, after we're done, we can go look for Petey." Sam had the sudden compulsive urge to tell Astrid that Petey was of the few people in town who did not need looking after, thought the better of it, and held his tongue.

"Let's go, then," Quinn said. The party started down the street, passing kids who were doing all sorts of insane things. Jumping on top of car roofs; smashing in house windows; they even caught one fifth grade girl streaking. Quinn had turned to watch this with great interest, to which Astrid responded by hitting him on his head, and calling him a perv.

When they reached Quinn's house it was as they'd feared. No one was home.

"Yo?" Quinn called out, peeking into a room. "Moms? Pops? You guys chillin' here?"

They weren't.

"Well," Quinn said after a moment, "looks like the 'rents poofed. Mind if I have an emotional break-down?" Sam and Astrid shook their heads and let Quinn rant about how he was never nice to his father, how he should have told his mother he loved her, and how he wished the phones were still working so he could call up his aunt Mary one last time to call her a whore.

After he was done Sam said, "Okay, now we go to my house." Astrid nodded.

"And then Little Petey?" Sam sighed, regretting his decision to take Astrid the Semi-Genius along already. Couldn't she shut up about her brother for more than five seconds?

"Yeah, then Petey." Astrid grinned and, for a moment, almost looked pretty.

She then spoiled said moment by sneezing on Sam.

*

Lana Arwen Lazar was incredibly bored. She'd spent all day in the back of some smelly old truck with her smelly old grandfather, and her smelly old dog. Patrick was now barking his head off in time to some smelly old religious song. Lana pouted, sticking out her tongue at Patrick.

"Stupid, smelly old dog," she growled. Her grandfather clucked his tongue at her.

"Now, now, Lana, don't insult the poor beast. That one there's a good dog." Lana rolled her eyes.

"He's stupid and smelly, and I like, totally hate him," she responded.

"You shouldn't. Dog like that could save your life. You know he once pulled a kid out of a burning building? Natural born hero, that one. You might do some good and follow his example." Lana rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"I come out here to this stupid middle-of-no-where-town, get stuck on a ranch with, like, no cable or internet, and now I'm supposed to take advice from a dog?" Lana's grandfather sighed.

"Well, if you're going to behave like a spoiled brat…" he muttered. When he turned his head away, Lana stuck out her tongue at her grandfather.

She couldn't believe she'd gotten stuck here. Out of all the places to get stuck in, why did it have to be Perdido Beach? Nothing ever happened there! Nothing! All people did for fun was surf and eat out at McDonalds. What had she done to deserve this fate? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Well….okay, there had been a few things. But very minor things. What was one stolen bottle of vodka? A couple cigarette packs? One or two break-ins? And, okay, yes, she did have some connection to that fire that ended up burning down the school gym. Nothing direct, of course, but the principal apparently didn't agree with her.

Stupid principal. Stupid parents. They were the reason Lana was stuck in this little good-for-nothing town.

Lana was about to demand for the thousandth time that week that she be sent home when two things happened at once. One: her grandfather disappeared. Two: the car swerved off the road.

"AHH!" Lana screamed. She held onto her car seat for dear life as the truck spun in a lazy circle around, and around, and around…

Lana turned a very unflattering shade of green and proceeded to throw up the contents of her lunch.

Soon the car skidded to a halt, not so much as a scratch to its name. Patrick immediately bounded over to the front seat to check on his mistress, who was still screeching in terror.

"My hair! Ohmigod! My hair! My nails! It'll take me months to fix them!" Lana broke down and wept over her frizzy hair and broken nails. Patrick put his nose to Lana's arm in an attempt to comfort her. Lana freaked out, screaming, "Oh! It touched me! The mutt touched me!" Patrick then learned not to touch Lana. Ever.

"Okay…now what?" Lana wondered to herself aloud. One thing was clear; she had to get out of the car. What if it, like, exploded? Like it always did in those James Bond movies?

Lana pulled herself from the car, plopping down on the dirt. She moaned again; the chances of her getting the sand out of her outfit were dropping severely. And it was designer!

"Ow," she moaned. After a moment of self pity Lana decided to try and stand. She propped herself up against the car, preparing to start walking in search of a ride, when she found that one leg couldn't support her weight.

"Noo," Lana moaned. "I like, sprained my ankle!" Lana hopped around on one leg for a few moments before tripping and hearing a sickening snap come from her once-good leg. She only had one word to sum this entire situation up as her stupid smelly dog once again bounded over to her.

"Crap."

*

As Sam, Astrid, and Quinn made their way to the Temple residence, kids were constantly stopping them, asking if they knew were the adults had gone, or if he had any idea when they'd be back. Sam told these kids to get lost; while Quinn told them have a cookie.

"A cookie?" Astrid asked, sticking her scrawny arms on her even scrawnier hips.

"It helps mellow out the system," Quinn replied. For once, Astrid had no response.

When the trio reached Sam's house the result was a replica of Quinn's. No mom. No dial tone on the phones. Nothing. They were all just…gone.

"Dude," Quinn said, pulling a coke from the fridge, "this is freaky." Sam nodded.

"Totally. Even freakier than a tsunami in New Jersey." Astrid raised an eyebrow.

"Surfing metaphor?" she asked.

"You got a better one?" Astrid shook her head.

"I'm…gonna go use the bathroom." Without another word Astrid turned and walked into a separate room, shutting the door closed behind her. Quinn watched her go with great interest.

"Um, she does know that's the coat closet…right?" Sam shrugged.

"As long as she doesn't pee on my parka, I don't care where she does her business." Quinn nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm…gonna go change my shirt," Sam said, edging toward his room. Quinn nodded at him, or at least it looked like a nod to Sam. It could have also just been a head bang to the music that was probably playing in Quinn's head. Actually, this was more than likely, but at the moment, Sam couldn't have cared less. He had to see if It was still there.

Because for Sam Temple, normalcy had lost its meaning eight months ago.

Eight months ago when his stepfather had run, screaming, from their house. And two nights ago…when It had happened.

The fairy light.

Two nights ago, there had been a thunder storm. And Sam Temple hated thunder storms with a fiery passion. They kept him awake at night, scared and alone. They made him feel venerable, weak…

So, those two nights ago, It had happened. Sam had been lying on his, trying to sleep. He had closed his eyes and tried counting sheep, but in his imagination the sheep always grew fangs and bit off his limbs before jumping over the picket fence. So he stopped counting.

And then he was left alone with the overwhelming feeling of loneliness and solitude. He was scared, it was pitch black, and he had to pee. Like, really badly. So, being the wimp he was, Sam called out to his mother, hoping she would bring him a flashlight so he could find his way to the bathroom.

But, instead of his mother coming to guide him to the toilet, a light appeared. It twinkled and sparkled and was the color of cotton candy. Sam used the light to find the bathroom (thank god), and it was only when back in his bed that he realized how incredibly girly his light was. Seriously! It was like something out of an episode of the Power Puff Girls.

So, not wanting to diminish his manly pride any more than he already had, Sam hid the pink light in his closet behind some clothes.

And it was still there.

"Why won't you go away? Why do you still have to be here, you girly light, you?" Sam muttered. He stuck out his hand and felt it pass through the light. Oddly enough, when he put said hand to his face, it smelled like sprinkles. Weird….

"Sam?" Astrid called. Sam's head jerked. He couldn't let them see this light! If either of them knew he had created such a girly-looking phenomenon, he would not only be considered a freak, but an un-manly freak. And that was unacceptable.

"Coming!" he called. He shoved his shirts back in front of the glowing light (now a fuchsia pink), and ran back down stairs.

Quinn and Astrid were both huddled over a silver laptop; his mother's computer. Sam frowned and made his way over to them, glancing over their shoulders. His mother's computer was open to a Word Document program….some kind internet journal.

Ignoring their protests, Sam shoved Astrid and Quinn out of the way to read.

These Coates kids are really starting to get on my nerves. It happened again. Unbelievable. I'm considering going to G about this, but without any proof I'll be written off as crazy. Still, I have to do something. C's attempts are getting crazier and crazier. He's going to get someone killed.

Just like S with T.

Should I confront C? Will he even listen to what I have to say? God knows that boy has always had trouble with listening to authority.

And that was all that was written.

Sam stared at the diary, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He knew that G stood for Grace, head of Coates Academy, and S would refer to him, as T would refer to his stepfather. But who was C?

Sam closed the laptop when he felt Astrid's breath on his neck as she tried to peek over his shoulder and read the journal. The girl was too nosy for her own good.

"Let's go to the plaza," Sam said, starting for the front door.

"Why?" Quinn asked, following.

"Because I need some fresh air, that's why."

*

Down at the plaza there was another emergency.

Seriously. A fire? What next? Talking coyotes?

The not-so-intelligent trio made their way over to the seen of the fire. Flames billowed from an apartment building, and about forty kids were standing there, gawking.

"Whoa," Quinn said, lifting up his shades to peer at the flames. "Epic, man."

"Totally," said a kid from Sam's class. "It's been going on for half an hour; we've been taking bets on whether the building will fall down or not. Or whether it'll burn down the hardware store."

Sure enough, kids were passing around money and taking bets. A few sat on beach towels, eating popcorn. Some had even passed out foam fingers and were either cheering on or booing the fire. It was like the super bowl all over again.

"Put me down for twenty on the fire burning down the hardware store," Quinn whispered. The kid grinned.

"You're on." Astrid's eyes widened as the flames shot up another foot in the air. There were a few "Ohhs," and "Ahhs," as the crowd began to murmur amongst themselves.

Suddenly, a voice cried out, "Help! Somebody save me!" Everyone glance at one another.

"I-I think it came from inside the building," Bouncer Bette said. She was rocking back and forth on her converses, still clutching her useless cell phone.

There was a silence.

"So, who wants to bet on whether or not the kid makes it?" There was an immediate influx of betting, money being passed back and forth, hands being shaken, and popcorn being popped. For kids that rarely got cable, this was the excitement of their lives.

"Hey!" someone cried. "It would add to the betting odds even more if someone tried to save her, don'tcha think?" This statement was met with cheers.

"But…who's going to save the poor chicka?" Edilio asked. There was a dead silence as people glanced suspiciously at each other. It was, in the end, Astrid who answered.

"Why doesn't Sam save her?" she asked. Sam winced at the adoration in Astrid's voice when she spoke his name, and a cold dread grew in the pit of his stomach as kids began whispering amongst themselves.

"Yeah! Sam should do it!"

"He's School Bus Sam!"

"Let Sam do it!"

Two years ago, in the seventh grade, Sam had saved his class from certain humiliation. During their yearly field trip to the beach the bus had obtained a flat tire. This would not have been a problem, normally, but no one on the bus at the time had any mechanical experience or knew anything about changing flat tires. Their Algebra teacher, Miss. Roswell, had been about to call in a professional, therefore embarrassing the school and smudging its already dent pride, when Sam admitted that he knew quite well how to change a flat tire. He did so, and saved the school the trouble of hiring a mechanic and causing unnecessary charges, which would have required dipping into the school fund.

In return for saving the school the embarrassment of hiring a professional to fix something as simple as a flat tire, Sam got his name and picture in the paper, considering the fact that the reporters had nothing better to write about in a town as small as Perdido Beach. This instance was to be known as Sam's fifteen minutes of fame, and it was how he earned the nickname, 'School Bus Sam'.

Sam was now seriously beginning to regret his momentary act of kindness.

"Okay, if you're going to go charging head-first into that fire, which I assume you are, at least take this," Astrid the Semi-Genius said, handing Sam a damp cloth. "Put it over your face and remember; it's not the smoke that kills people, it's the fire." Astrid frowned. "No, wait, that came out wrong. It's the smoke that kills people. Right? I think it's the smoke…"

Sam grabbed the piece of cloth from Astrid and clamped it over his mouth and nose, hoping this would make her shut up.

"Dude!" Sam turned to face Quinn, who had placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just want you to know I'm totally behind you on this, man. You've got my complete and utter support." Kangaroo Kelly frowned at him.

"You just bet me twenty bucks he wouldn't make it back alive!"

"Details, details," Quinn said quickly. "The point is that we're all behind you one hundred percent. Go get 'em tiger." Quinn slapped Sam on the back and pushed him toward the iterance of the burning building.

"Gee, I'm glad it's not me going in there," Sam heard one kid say.

"Yeah…poor sucker. Think we should pray for his safe return?"

"Are you crazy? I've got twelve bucks on his corpse."

Sam was about to tell the kids that he could hear every word they were saying, when another terrified cry erupted from the burning building. Thinking now was as good of time as any, Sam rushed into the building, followed by the cheers and boos of his school mates.

Upon entering, Sam was struck by how dark it was inside. Seriously, wasn't it supposed to be bright? There was a rampaging fire!

But, alas, the dark smoke blocked out all potential sources of light for Sam. He coughed and stumbled through the building, wondering why Astrid had bothered giving him the damp cloth. It wasn't doing any good.

"Help! Why hasn't anyone come to save me yet? Do any of you people care? Help!" Sam turned toward the sound of the semi-frightened and semi-annoyed cry. It was coming from behind a bolted door. Dark cough-inducing smoke was rushing through the cracks of the door, giving it a hellish appearance. Sam cursed under his breath as he went to work, banging on the door in hopes of breaking it down.

Finally, the door gave. The smoke cleared for a moment, and Sam took the opportunity to gulp down some air and curse again. He wiped his hand over his forehead and caught sight of the girl who had been screaming. She couldn't have been older than Little Pete; she had curly black hair done up in pigtails and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking extremely P.. When she caught sight of Sam she screamed.

"Holy crap! It's Invader Zim! He's going to eat out my brains!"

Before Sam had the chance to ask who the hell Invader Zim was, or why he wanted to eat her brain, the small girl stuck up her hands. Flames poured out of them and rushed toward Sam at lightning speed. Sam barely had enough time to duck before the flames soared over his head.

The girl screamed again, this time in anger at missing her target. Seeing the determination in her small face, Sam knew she wouldn't miss again. He was about to be killed by a bratty little kid, and all for the sake of a bet. Fury filled Sam. He really hoped that Quinn enjoyed those twenty dollars; they were going to be the last he ever saw. Sam would make sure of it, even if he had to rise from the dead and haunt Quinn himself.

Suddenly, as the anger burned through Sam, he realized he had to go to the bathroom. When was the last time he'd been? Nine a.m. this morning? Much too long ago in his opinion.

Which meant that Sam was going to die at the hand of a five-year-old while having to pee? This was extremely un-manly.

Sam's hands twitched. The familiar feminine feeling burned through him and Sam barely had time to think, Not this again! before hot pink light shot out of his open palms. The sparkly pink light hit the girl in the chest, making her glow like a Christmas Special for a moment before she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Sam breathed a sigh of relief; if the girl was unconscious, then not only could she not attack him, but she would also be unable to tease him about his shiny pink light. If the fire didn't kill him, Sam was sure the embarrassment would.

Stumbling forward, Sam grabbed the girl and slung her over his shoulders. He kicked at the partly open window, and forced it open. Amazingly, pair of hands were there to take the brat from his arms. Sam slumped against the wall, thoroughly exhausted. He only just had the energy to pull himself from the burning building before, being the manly man that he was, fainting.

*

Sam awoke from a very peaceful dream about him mother, the sand, and the surf, to stare into Astrid's pimply face. She slapped him across the cheek, and Sam yelped in surprise.

"What was that for?" he moaned, trying to sit up.

"Just making sure you were conscious," Astrid said, giving an innocent shrug.

"So…" Sam asked, glancing around him, "did she make it?" Astrid shook her head.

"Nope, she's dead. Good thing too; I won thirty bucks off of Mary." Sam rolled his eyes and stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

"Where's Quinn?" he asked.

"Over there, moping about his lost bet," Astrid said, pointing to a nearby park bench. Quinn was sitting there, head in his hands. Sam sighed; despite the fact that Quinn, his best and only friend, had bet on his death and was now moping about his lack of winnings, Sam supposed that he should comfort him. After all; what were friends for?

"Hey man," Sam said sitting beside Quinn. Quinn didn't respond. "Dude…look, I know you're bummed about loosing your bet, but come on! Worse things than that have happened." Quinn lifted up his head to glare at Sam.

"Like what?" Sam struggled to think of an answer.

"Well…there's the whole everyone-over-the-age-of-fifteen-has-gone-AWAL thing. That's totally worse." Quinn thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, you're right, that's worse," he said after a moment. "Besides, now that I think about it, it would kinda suck if you were dead." Sam fought the incredible urge to facepalm, and instead gave his friend a small smile.

"Thanks, man. Means a lot to me."

As soon as Sam spoke those words, Astrid skipped over to them.

"Now that you two have finished your guy talk, we need to get back to searching for my brother. I've checked everywhere he normally goes on his 'off days', and I still can't find him." Sam frowned, knowing that Petey could be virtually anywhere during one of his 'off days', days recommended by his therapist where Pete was required to spend quality time with his parents. Sam couldn't, for the life of him, understand why most of these days happened to fall on school days. The only reasoning he could fathom, was that Pete was smart enough to be able to make up any work he hadn't completed, and that weekends for the Ellison's were too jam packed for there to be any down time.

Well, either that or his teachers were desperate to be rid of him.

"Well, is there anywhere he normally goes?" Sam asked with strained patience. He really didn't want to follow Astrid the Semi-Genius around in search of her annoying brother, but it looked as though he didn't have a choice.

"Well," Astrid said after a moment of thought, "my mom likes to play tennis at Clifftop. He could be there." Sam clapped his hands together.

"Then that's where we'll go." Astrid's face lit up at the word 'we'll'.

"You guys are coming with me?" she asked.

"It's not like we've got anything better to do," Quinn pointed out. Sam nodded in agreement. In a small town like this, even supernatural disasters were unexciting.

So the unexpected trio started down the street. Kids constantly came up to them, asking if they knew what had happened to the adults, when they were going to be saved. Sam politely told these kids to bug off, Quinn told them to listen to some jazz to 'mellow out', while Astrid simply ignored them, splitting her time up between worrying about Petey and gazing lovingly up at Sam. Sam wasn't quite sure which he found more annoying.

As the gang came to the intersection, they stumbled upon Orc's crew.

Orc was an oversized eighth grade thug. At the moment he was sitting in a lawn chair, his goons Panda and Cookie trying unsuccessfully to start a fire. His girlfriend, Halley, was standing by his side, holding a baseball bat. Halley was Perdido Beach School's only official drag queen who spent half of her time as Halley and the other half as Howard. No one was completely sure whether or not Halley/Howard was male or female; she/he'd been going back and forth between dresses and jeans since nursery school. However, what everyone did know was that he/she was the permanent girlfriend of Orc, the toughest thug in the school. If you messed with Halley, you messed with Orc. This was party why no one dared tease her about her too-tight tank tops and hairy legs in the past.

As of now Halley was wearing a tight miniskirt and blue shirt with a hoodie. Her dark eyes were made up with mascara and her lips had a light coating of lip gloss on them. Halley drummed her French-tipped fingernails on her metal bat, glaring menacingly at the trio as they approached. After a moment she sashayed over to them, swinging her hips in and out with practiced perfection.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't School Bus Sam," she said in an annoyingly high voice. "And what are we doing out so late, hmm?" Sam sighed. He really wasn't in the mood to play Halley's games.

"We're just going for a walk, Halley." Halley's eyes narrowed as she looked Sam, Quinn, and Astrid up and down, her eyes straying on both Quinn ands Astrid's forms longer than necessary. Another one of the many mysteries concerning Halley/Howard was his/her sexuality. There were days when you would find Halley having a passionate make-out session with Orc, and days when you would find Howard flirting unabashedly with the Perdido Beach School cheerleaders.

"Yeah, well, if you're going for a 'walk' somewhere, you'd better bring Orc and me back something." Sam frowned at the girl/guy before him.

"What do you mean?" he growled. Halley winked.

"I mean if ya know what's good for ya, you'll bring us back a little somethin' somethin'. You wouldn't want to make Orc mad at you, would ya?" Halley turned expectantly to Orc who grunted a, "Sure." Halley grinned.

"Some big hero you are, Sam," Panda said, standing. "Just 'cause you changed a flat tire one day and provided entertainment for this useless town, doesn't make you a big shot or anything." Sam's fists clenched.

"I never asked to be a hero," Sam muttered. Halley giggled.

"Lookit! He's blushing!" Orc grunted a laugh, which caused the rest of his gang to join in as well.

"Whatever, Halley. We're leaving now." Sam purposely grabbed both Astrid and Quinn's shoulders, to which Astrid responded by linking her arm through Sam's. Sam tried to shake her off and failed as Halley dissolved into laughter.

"Nuh-uh! Gotta wait 'til the light changes." She pointed to the stoplight with her baseball bat. Sam growled and probably would've punched Halley right in her pretty face had Astrid not been clutching his arm so tightly the circulation was in danger of being cut off.

Then the light changed to green and Halley waved them through, laughing all the way.

A/N: Ha-ha! I did it! I finished! *does happy dance* I hope you all enjoyed reading this! My next update might not be for a while, so if you haven't seen anything from me on this story recently check out the Drabbles or PM me a threat. R&R, please!

Preview for the next chapter: Edilio tries to put the moves on Astrid, Mary gets pissed off at our favorite drag queen, Albert makes burgers, and Lana discovers she's in an even bigger predicament than she ever dreamed. Will Sam return to Perdido Beach? Will Edilio win in wooing Astrid? Will Little Pete learn to stop cursing? Read to find out!