Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grey.

Everything was grey.

Grey, grey, grey.

For Charlie Brown, there was never really any color in life. Everything was grey, from the cloudless sky to his own reflection. Especially his own reflection. It was just blah.

And blah equaled grey.

Everything was grey. Except her.

He sighed as he played moodily with his food, staring at the back of her head and that sleek, perfect, shiny mass of red hair that adorned it.

The little red haired girl was seated at a table with all her friends, laughing at a joke someone had said.

Charlie Brown was seated alone, waiting for Linus, who was still somewhere in the long queue waiting to be served his food.

He sighed. He would give anything to have just the tiniest bit of courage to go over to her table and start a conversation. Some people seemed to find that so easy, and Charlie Brown couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand how some people could just do things, say things, without worrying about them beforehand.

"Go and TALK to her, you blockhead!"

Charlie Brown jumped at the sudden voice. It was a harsh, no-nonsense female voice, a voice he had heard many many times throughout his life.

"Lucy," he groaned.

She plonked her tray down on the table and took the seat opposite him.

"Why don't you just go and TALK to her. It's not that hard, you know. You just open your mouth and words come out."

He looked at his friend (enemy? Frienemy? He never had been able to figure out what his relationship with Lucy was) in a mixture of despair and annoyance. She had been a crabby little girl when they had been younger, and now she had grown up to be a crabby teenage girl. She had always, as long as Charlie Brown had known her, had her good days and her bad days. Her good days were ok. Her bad days were TERRIBLE.

Today seemed to be one of her bad days.

Her dark eyebrows were knotted together in a permanent frown and beneath them, her bright blue eyes seemed brighter than usual – and not in a particularly good way. Her mouth was in a tight, thin line, and her firm chin seemed more protruding than ever. It was hard to see when she was in a crabby mood, but Lucy had grown into a pretty attractive eighteen year old, with long legs, creamy white skin and long black eyeleshes with bright blue eyes that were undoubtedly her most attractive feature. She was short, but that didn't stop her from intimidating people the way she always did.

"Seriously, Charlie Brown, you're such a loser. You've had the same crush on the same girl for ten thousand years and you don't even know her freaking name. It's pathetic."

Charlie Brown sighed. Lucy had a way of making you feel like an insignificant piece of dirt. Not that he never thought of himself as an insignificant piece of dirt. In fact, he thought of himself as an insignificant piece of dirt every single day of his life. Every single moment of his life, actually…

He shook his head and took a bite of his chicken leg.

"What are you doing here anyway? How come you're not sitting with the girls?" he asked, nodding towards the table where Frieda, Violet and Patty were seated, apparently engrossed in conversation. Lucy made a noise that sounded remarkably like a cat's hiss and rolled her eyes.

"Them? They're driving me crazy today. I swear, if Frieda keeps going on about her stupid fucking hair and how easy it is to get a boyfriend when you have stupid fucking hair like hers I'll single handedly rip it off her head," she replied seethingly, furiously squeezing her orange-juice box, imagining it was Frieda's neck.

She had been particularly annoying today, going on about how happy she and Shermy were and how it was such a SHAME Schroeder seemed so uninterested in Lucy. God, I could have strangled her there and then, thought Lucy, shoving mashed potatoes into her mouth and chewing furiously. She had snapped at Frieda, calling her a stupid antifeminist bimbo and many worse things, assuring her that she couldn't possibly care less about Schroeder. Then she had come over to torment Charlie Brown. Tormenting people was always a good anger outlet, and Charlie Brown was such a good target.

She was just thinking of her next cutting remark when Linus came over and sat down beside Charlie Brown. He was fifteen years old, but sometimes looked years younger, thanks to the fact that he still had a very childlike face, which looked rather awkward with his tall, skinny frame. He was now one of the tallest, if not the tallest, boy in the school. It had annoyed Lucy tremendously when he first surpassed her in height, and he had had an extremely clumsy phase were it seemed everything was too small and far away from him, which made him feel like a giraffe at times. He had gotten used to his height now, however. He was also extremely skinny, something that worried his mother, who tried to stuff as much food as possible down his throat at mealtimes. This also annoyed Lucy to no end, because while she was by no means fat, or even chubby, she had hips and thighs that were prone to getting rather large if she didn't work out and take care of herself.

"Well, hello, sister. How come you're not sitting with your female confidantes today?"

"Mind your own business. And stop talking in that mightier than thou tone or I'll clobber you," she snapped, taking another bite of mashed potato.

"Ah. Bright and cheerful as always, I see. Glad to know I have a sister who's always so willing to brighten one's day."

Lucy snorted derisively and pretended to stare nonchalantly into space as she spotted Schroeder walk by with 5 and Pig-pen. Maybe she'd go round to his house again this afternoon. He wouldn't pay attention to her, she knew that. He was always too engrossed in his stupid music. He had certainly upgraded from his toy piano; he now played a variety of instruments ranging from piano to guitar to harp, but the piano was what he excelled at. He wanted to get into the most prestigious music university in America, and he would talk about nothing else. But Lucy was nothing if not persistent, and she would still go round to his house practically every day, ignoring the raised eyebrows of Patty and Violet, and the knowing sighs of Frieda. Those stupid knowing sighs. GOD, she was annoying. Ever since she had begun dating Shermy she thought herself the freaking sex and dating expert of the whole town. Stupid, idiotic, dumb little…

"…Hey, Luce? You're breaking your fork…"

She looked down at her hand and saw her brother was right. The plastic fork was broken in half. She threw it furiously across the cafeteria, landing on Peppermint Patty's tray.

"Hey!" the tomboy protested mildly. Lucy ignored her, rage taking over her whole being.

"THIS STUPID SCHOOL, CAN'T EVEN HAVE PROPER FORKS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, IT'S PATHETIC, IF ROOSEVELT WAS STILL ALIVE HE WOULDN'T LET THIS HAPPEN…"

Charlie Brown sighed as Lucy's shouting went on and on. Nobody was taking much notice; they had become immune to Lucy's loud angry shouting rants which usually ended up making no sense whatsoever. Roosevelt? He shook his head bemusedly. As for Linus, he seemed to be oblivious to anything around him. He was now talking and laughing with Sally, who had just joined them.

"Thank god you came," he grinned. "Between his depressive I-love-the-red-haired-girl-but-I-am-a-coward state of mind and her angry mad rants, I was about to go crazy."

Charlie Brown frowned.

"Hey! I heard that!"

Sally sighed, pushing her blonde curls out of her face. Puberty was being good to her, and she was turning out to be a very pretty young woman. She had lost most of her baby fat and she was beginning to get defined curves, but her face still had that sweetness that was so imprinted in her, and her baby-blue eyes were still wide and innocent looking, with that unique and sometimes naïve way of seeing the world. She sighed, looking at her older brother with a mixture of sympathy and amusement.

"Again?"

Linus nodded, rolling his eyes.

"You should talk to her. I talked to her once, in the grocer's. She's quite nice."

"I know I should talk to her! I just don't…know how…" he trailed off pathetically, staring sadly at his plate.

Sally sighed. Who was she to say anything, anyway? She was as scared of rejection as he was. She looked at Linus out of the corner of her eye, biting her fingernails. Maybe it ran in the family. Fear of rejection. Then she looked at Lucy, who had stopped shouting and was now moodily finishing her lunch. Lucy wasn't scared. She was rejected over and over again and yet she kept persisting over and over again. Sally admired her for that. She looked back at Linus, thinking how she would never be able to do what Lucy did, for fear of breaking of their friendship. She really, really valued Linus' friendship.

Still. At least she knew his name. Charlie Brown never even plucked up the courage to ask her her name, for crying out loud.

He suddenly looked up at his younger sister.

"Hang on. You talked to her?!"

Oh no.

Linus groaned. "Classic mistake, Sally".

"Well, I –" Sally began hastily.

"You must know her name then! Tell me, please!" he begged desperately.

"No."

"Oh, come on! Why not?"

"For the same reason no one else will tell you! I want you to do it, Charles!"

The thing was, most people technically could tell him her name, as most people knew…but nobody wanted to tell him because they wanted him to find it out. They wanted him to be braver and ask her.

"Oh, for pity's sakes…" began Charlie Brown angrily.

"She's right, Charlie Brown. It wouldn't be fair if we told you. You have to stand on your own two feet!" said Linus sternly.

"But - "

"No."

"Please – I –!"

"Nope".

Charlie Brown groaned in despair and buried his head in his arms.

"You doing anything this afternoon, Sally?" asked Linus, ignoring Charlie Brown's wails of despair.

"Well, I've got band practice right after school," she replied, rolling her eyes in mock despair. It wasn't that she didn't like being in the marching band; it was fun, in fact, and the kids in it were nice. In fact, the other kids were probably the main reason she was in it. Most of them were the friendly, shy and kind of dorky sort, much like she was. But she liked hanging out with Linus after school, and lately she hadn't been able to do that much, what with her band hysterically trying to organize everything for tomorrow's football game and Linus' advanced maths. She couldn't say she was particularly passionate about the clarinet, either, but she was good at it, and there weren't many things Sally was even decent at, let alone good at.

"Oh, right, it's the football game tomorrow, isn't it?" said Linus, taking a sip of his coke.

"Yeah. Are you going?"

"I think I will. Rerun likes going, so I might come with him. Personally I prefer baseball."

"It's this stupid school. They seem to love watching stupid muscled boys wrestling each other to the ground. It just shows what kind of sick culture we live in," snapped Lucy.

It was a well-known fact that the school valued football above all other sports. Above all other extra-curricular activities, in fact. The basketball team had next to no members, and the baseball team was an absolute failure. All the good sports students chose to go into football, since it was the biggest sport in the school, and the baseball team consisted of a small group of kids who were continuously dropping out. Charlie Brown was in the team, which just went to show how low the playing standards were, while Schroeder, Linus, Pig-pen, 5 and Shermy were only in it out of loyalty towards Charlie Brown. The other kids in the team were not much better than any of the gang. There were two other kids called Peter and Scott who weren't too bad; Schroeder was a decent catcher and Linus was a good pitcher, but that was about it.

The matter in question was in deep debate over at the table were Lucy's fork had landed.

"It's too bad that the school doesn't have a proper baseball team, really it is. And the fact there are no girl teams is just sad. I asked the baseball coach to make a girls' team and you know what he said?! There are cheerleaders, you know, miss Harris. Why not join them?" Peppermint Patty exclaimed indignantly. "How sexist is that?!"

"Sucks", Franklin replied, shaking his head.

"I mean," Peppermint Patty went on. "Football's ok and all, but it's not fair that one team is so much more favourited than the other."

"I think you mean 'favoured', Sir" spoke up Marcie, a small smile on her lips.

"Whatever, stop calling me Sir" replied Peppermint Patty, merely out of custom and not because of actual annoyance. Marcie calling her Sir had stopped seeming weird, and had just become a common nickname. "Seriously, though, we should start a petition or something."

"Who'd back it up? Most of the girls here hate sports, anyway. It's practically impossible to get them to have a small game," pointed out Franklin, biting into his sandwich.

"Oh, never underestimate my persuasive powers, Franklin," she replied teasingly. She looked at her watch and groaned.

"Oh, great. Back to Geography in half an hour."

"Actually, I think it's history now, Sir" replied Marcie, turning over the page of her book. Peppermint Patty blinked.

"We have history today?"

Marcie rolled her eyes. "Yes. We have a test today."

Peppermint Patty blinked again.

"We have a test?"

"Sir!" Marcie exclaimed in despair. "I told you last night! I suppose you did the maths exercises, at least."

Silence.

"SIR!"

"I forgot!" wailed Peppermint Patty.

"Well, you're not copying my answers this time. You're on your own,".said the dark-haired girl firmly, keeping her eyes on the book. When would she ever learn? Peppermint Patty had changed practically nothing since Marcie had met her. She was still the same old freckle-faced, loud, outspoken tomboy who was great at sport and extremely stupid when it came to school. Practically the opposite of Marcie herself. Marcie hadn't changed much either. She was still the quiet school nerd. If anything she had become even more reserved, for reasons only she knew and kept to herself. She sighed and looked up from her book.

Big mistake.

Oh, lord, not the puppy dog eyes.

"Stop it," she snapped warningly.

"Pleaaase…" whined Peppermint Patty, her brown eyes widening.

"You know she'll win in the end, Marcie," said Franklin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why not make it easy on yourself and just give her the answers?"

"Because she'll never learn! She never learns!" exclaimed Marcie exasperatedly.

"I will, I promise you! This is the very last time I'll ever ask you for anything! I swear!"

"Yeah, right," muttered Franklin.

"Franklin! Not helping!" snapped Peppermint Patty. She turned to Marcie with the same beseeching look in her eyes. Marcie hesitated, and then threw up her arms in despair.

"Fine!" she snapped, taking her maths book out of her bag and plunking it down in front of Peppermint Patty. "But if you ever make fun of me again for always carrying my books around and never leaving them in the locker…"

"I won't, I won't! You're wonderful!" grinned Peppermint Patty, throwing her arms around her and giving her a very clumsy, rough hug.

"…after all, if I didn't carry my books with me, who would you copy from at break?" continued Marcie, blushing at the sudden contact and straightening her glasses. She felt Franklin stare at her curiously and she buried her face behind her book once more, her face flushing even more. Great. Now he would figure out what she was trying so hard to hide all the time and her life would be a complete misery.

"I will never make fun of you again for as long as I live" replied Peppermint Patty solemnly.

"Yeah, right," muttered Franklin again, shaking his head in amusement. Marcie could still feel him staring at her with curiosity as she tried to concentrate on the book she had to read for her English class. It was The Picture Of Dorian Grey, by Oscar Wilde. She had already read it about a thousand times before, so she didn't really need to read it, but she didn't mind re-reading it. It was one of her favourite books. Marcie loved reading; it took her to different places, different people. She didn't have to think about her own issues; all her attention was focused on the characters and their own story.

Moments later, the bell rang. Franklin got up. "Well, I should be off quickly. I want to ask Rory about that essay for English." He walked away and Peppermint Patty sighed.

"I'm not even halfway through yet. Never mind, I'll finish copying it in History class."

Marcie looked at her incredulously.

"We have a TEST."

"Fine, after the test then! I'll have a few minutes. Geez, Marcie, calm down. You stress too much" she yawned, stretching out.

"Well, someone has to do the stressing for you, Sir" smiled Marcie, shaking her head at her friend's laziness.

"Stop calling me Sir. True. Thank god we're in most classes together. What would I do without you, Marcie?" she replied, smiling her rather lazy, lop-sided smile.

Marcie loved that smile.

"I don't know. What do you do without me in the classes we're not together?"

"Well, I'm always with either you or Franklin, so…"

"…so you always manage to rip off one of us."

Pepermint Patty laughed.

"Come on, we'll be late. And I've still got to get my stuff from my locker. I know you don't" she remarked pointedly nodding towards Marcie's pile of books lying on the table.

"Might I remind you, Sir, you just said…"

"I know, I know, I'd never make fun of you again for as long as I live. Come on."

Laughing, Marcie got her pile of books and began following Peppermint Patty out of the cafeteria. She heard her name being called and turned around. It was Sally, rushing towards her. She smiled at her fellow band mate. Marcie had gotten to know Sally better over the last year, playing the clarinet next to her in the marching band. She liked Sally. Besides Peppermint Patty, Marcie had never been particularly close with any of the girls in the small town, such as Violet or Patty or that lot, but lately she had distanced herself from them even more. It wasn't only that their conversation, which consisted mainly of clothes, boys and more boys, bored her to tears…it was mainly because they always tried to pry into her private life and ask countless questions about her feelings, and Marcie just didn't feel comfortable talking about those things. Sally wasn't the prying sort, and though she wasn't exactly bright academically, she had a special kind of intelligence that Marcie never possessed; she was people-smart. She could tell, somehow, what people were feeling, and when they needed comfort and when they just needed to be left alone.

"You going to band practice this evening, Marcie?" asked Sally, catching up with her and Peppermint Patty.

Marcie stopped in her tracks.

"Band practice? I thought you were coming round to my house to watch that movie for drama class" intervened Peppermint Patty.

"Band practice. I forgot" replied Marcie, sighing.

"You forgot, Marcie? I can't believe you actually forgot something!"

"I just –"

"HEY, EVERYONE! MARCIE'S HUMAN! SHE FORGOT SOMETHING!" shouted Peppermint Patty in mock horror/shock/surprise. Sally laughed.

"Oh, shut up, Sir."

"Stop calling me Sir. Oh well, we'll just have to get together some other day this week. Unless you're too busy with the book club or something."

Marcie swatted her on the arm and Sally shook her head, giggling. "You two. Always bickering like an old married couple. See you later then, Marcie!"

Peppermint Patty flushed slightly at Sally's remark. The girl had no idea how much she'd almost hit home.

Putting on her best nonchalant smile on her face, she pulled her small bespectacled friend into the History classroom, where all the kids were already sitting at their desks.

Chapter Text

The town was quite busy that afternoon. As busy as it could get anyway; when it came to noise and excitement, the place was hardly New York City. Violet wanted more. She wanted to see bright lights, luminous signs, shiny new cars, new faces…especially new faces. Life in town bored her. It had always bored her. Same thing with the people in the town. She was tired of seeing the same people, talking to the same people, living with the same people.

Violet wanted change.

She wanted what the people she saw on TV had. A cool apartment, expensive clothes, things to do.

There was never anything to do in this place.

She was ranting about this now, while the sun shone on her slowly melting strawberry flavored ice-cream cone.

"I can't wait for high school to be over. Then I can get out of here and actually start living!" she confessed.

"You're breathing, aren't you? Then you are living as far as I'm concerned," snapped Lucy.

The others ignored her, as they usually did when Lucy was having 'one of her days'.

"Well, only a few months to go, Vi. Then we'll be free!" grinned Patty, leaning back against the plastic chair, savoring the vanilla ice-cream melting in her mouth.

Violet smiled. She couldn't wait to begin university. Especially since she was starting university in New York, of all places. She loved New York. She had been there a few times as a kid, and every time they came back she would beg her father to go back the following weekend. Seeing how much his daughter loved the city, he had made arrangements for her to study there.

Violet had been ecstatic.

Persuading Patty to accompany her had been easy; persuading Patty's parents, not so much. They had given in in the end, but only if Patty got a job and earned at least some of the money herself.

"You have to work for it," her father had said. "Violet might be used to getting everything she wants, but I don't believe in spoiling a kid. I'll pay whatever's needed to make up the cost at the end, but I want you to earn as much as you can."

As a result, Patty was now babysitting.

She hated babysitting.

She had never been particularly good with children, and now, having to spend practically every day with them, they drove her round the bend.

"I wish I had another job, though. Those kids kill me," she sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Oh, I'm sure you could get an easier job, Patty. Curling Frieda's hair, for instance," replied Lucy smoothly. Frieda didn't get angry; she never did. It was one of the many annoying things about her. She just smiled sympathetically at Lucy, reaching over to pat her on the shoulder.

"Poor Lucy. Having a bad day again. Is it Schroeder?"

Lucy gritted her teeth, trying to control her temper.

"No, it is not Schroeder, and please remove your hand from my shoulder."

Frieda sighed again, that stupid sympathetic little sigh she reserved for everyone, especially Lucy.

"Boys, huh? It's such a shame the blockhead doesn't pay you attention. I guess it's not that easy when you don't have naturally curly hair," said Frieda thoughtfully, patting her shiny, perfect reddish brown ringlets.

Lucy gritted her teeth even harder. It had been a mistake coming with them to the ice-cream shop; she could see that now. She had just really wanted ice-cream. God, that sounded greedy, even in her head. She had always had a weakness for ice-cream. She also thought that maybe hanging out with her girlfriends might cheer her up.

Ha.

"Don't use that word, it's mine," snapped Lucy. Nobody got to call Schroeder a blockhead except for her. She scooped up the last bit of what was left of her ice-cream and shoved it in her mouth. Then she stood up and picked up her jacket.

"Well, I have to go. See you later!" she announced.

"What, already? Where are you going?" protested Patty, frowning.

"None of your beeswax" snapped Lucy, turning around and marching away before they could say anything else. She couldn't help overhearing, however, Violet's remark: "Where do you think she's going?" and Frieda's sighed answer: "Love can be such a complicated thing when you don't have naturally curly hair."

Lucy walked on, ignoring the strong urge to turn back and punch each of them in the face. They were right, of course. She was going over to Schroeder's. She couldn't see why she shouldn't; he showed no interest in anyone ever, so what was the harm in being a bit persuasive? Even if he didn't pay her the slightest attention, it was still fun to annoy him. Also, she had the feeling that while Schroeder might pretend that he didn't want her or anyone else around, he secretly liked having her round. What with his dedication to his music, he hardly ever socialized with anyone after school. That had to get boring sometimes.

She walked right up to his front door and rang the doorbell. Inside the small brick house, Schroeder was playing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata". His eyes were closed as he played, his mind and soul completely immersed in the music. He didn't need sheet music; he knew most of Beethoven's works by heart. In his mind, nobody was more of a genius than Beethoven; his music just touched his soul in a way nothing else ever did. He was so absorbed in what he was playing that when the doorbell rang, he half jumped out of his skin. He heard the familiar footsteps and groaned.

Lucy.

Surely enough, a second later, the girl walked into the living room, a huge grin on her face.

"Hey there, Schroeder!" said Lucy brightly, throwing her jacket on the sofa and flinging herself down on top of it, sprawling comfortably. Schroeder sighed, half in exasperation, half in amusement. Ever since he had known her, Lucy had treated his house as if it were her own. She probably treated his house even more like her home than her actual place. This was the way it usually went every day. Lucy would ring the doorbell, come in, and sprawl herself on the sofa while Schroeder practiced his various instruments.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," muttered Schroeder, playing a few loose chords.

"Isn't it though?" replied Lucy cheerfully, helping herself to a bag of crisps that was lying on the coffee table beside her.

"I still don't understand why you even bother to ring the doorbell," said Schroeder, beginning to play "Moonlight Sonata" over again.

"It's like a warning I'm here. You know, just in case you're not mentally prepared for such beauty as mine," replied Lucy casually, munching a crisp.

Schroeder snorted, shaking his head.

"You're in a good mood. What was all that in the cafeteria about at lunchtime?"

Lucy frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you were shouting something about Roosevelt…"

"Oh, that. Stupid school. Can't even make forks properly. Of course, it's all Frieda's fault really. The fork never would have broken if it wasn't for her."

Schroeder frowned slightly, feeling extremely confused. Then again, Lucy was always extremely confusing.

"So what shall we do this Friday night?" asked Lucy, throwing her hands behind her head. Schroeder rolled his eyes. It seemed like the girl would never give up. She had stopped making remarks about 'when we're married' like she used to do when they were little, but she still insinuated there was something between them. All the time.

And there wasn't.

Not at all.

Schroeder had no time for girlfriends; he barely had time for friends, for crying out loud. He only had one goal in mind: to win a scholarship to get into Juilliard school. It was a very, very select place, and it had been his dream to enter ever since he could remember.

"I don't know what you'll be doing. I'll be practicing Brahms' first symphony," he replied curtly, closing his eyes as he played.

"Shame your dad's not like Violet's. Then you wouldn't have to get a scholarship." Lucy replied scathingly. "I've never met anyone as spoilt as she is. It's ridiculous."

Schroeder frowned.

"I thought you two were friends."

"We are," Lucy replied in a surprised tone. Schroeder shrugged and decided not to dwell on it. Girls were complicated when it came to friendships.

"She just drives me crazy sometimes. Same with Patty and Frieda. We were just having ice-cream before I came here. They were lucky I didn't rip their heads off," she went on conversationally.

Silence.

"They're still there. Probably talking about clothes or something. They can be so superficial sometimes. All the problems in the world and all they can think of is clothes and boys."

Silence.

"Not that I don't like boys. I like you."

Silence.

"Do you like girls, Schroeder?"

Schroeder sighed again. Lucy could be so darn annoying at times.

All the time, really.

"Not as much as I like Beethoven's ninth symphony" he replied dryly.

"But you like girls?"

"Yes."

Silence.

"Schroeder?"

"What?"

His voice was starting to show irritation.

"I'm a girl."

Schroeder snorted slightly.

"Really. I hadn't noticed," he replied sarcastically, trying to concentrate on the music.

"Do you like me?"

Schroeder was silent again for a few seconds. Then, he replied "As far as girls go, you're all right."

Lucy looked up at him, an amused grin on her face.

"See, I knew you love me," she joked, staring coyly at him.

"Oh, shut it," snapped Schroeder, slamming down the last chord and stomping to the kitchen. He could hear Lucy's laughter all the way down the hall.

Back at the ice-cream place, there wasn't much laughter as Patty complained about her job.

"I hate babysitting. The other day that little brat Mandy actually ripped my favorite jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors."

Frieda frowned. "What was she doing with scissors?"

"I gave them to her to play with. I gave her some paper so she could cut that. I went to the bathroom, for a few seconds and when I came back the stupid little idiot had cut my jacket to shreds."

"Giving a kid scissors. Now that's what I call good care," said a male voice behind them. They turned around to see Pig-pen, looking as messy as ever, the same big, friendly grin on his face he always had.

"Well, at least she wasn't rolling around in a mud puddle like some people I know who used to do that when they were like eight. You might still do that, for all I know," replied Violet scathingly, eying Pig-pen distastefully. He was no longer a walking dirt-track, but he still never quite managed looked exactly clean. It was like he was physically unable to keep himself neat, and so he always looked scruffy and untidy. He looked a vast improvement then when he had been a child, however: now you would no longer think he had been rolling around in a mud puddle; instead, you might think he had been rolling around in a pile of hay. His hair still stood up instead of lying flat, and his clothes always looked rumpled and old, even if he had bought his outfit just the day before.

"Ah, pleasant as always, Violet," he replied, beaming, as he took a seat next to Patty.

"I don't remember asking you to join us, Pig-pen," commented Frieda lazily, patting her curls.

"It's a free country. I can sit where I like. And right now, I want to sit beside this lovely lady," replied Pig-pen, nudging Patty lightly. The lovely lady in question let out a groan.

"Pig-pen, you're such a loser."

"Me? Nah, I'm a winner."

"Pig-pen, you are not a winner."

"Yes, I am, I won a book token in the school raffle."

Patty rolled her eyes.

"I rest my case," she replied.

"It would have been better if you had won a token for a haircut, or free laundry service. You're an absolute mess!" added Frieda, wrinkling her nose.

"Oh well. I may be messy, but at least I'll be well read," said Pig-pen cheerfully.

Frieda rolled her eyes and stood up, fixing her curls. "Well, anyway, I should be going. I'm supposed to meet Shermy. Bye, my darlings!" she announced in her sweet, sugar-coated voice, beaming and blowing a kiss to Patty and Violet.

Patty put her right hand to her mouth, kissed it and waved, smiling, while Violet grinned and answered "bye, hon!", in the same sweet voice Frieda had just used. Then she laughed as she watched her friend patting her curls in the distance.

"Look at her. If there was ever a narcissist, it's her. I'm amazed Shermy puts up with her sometimes," she laughed, rolling her eyes. Patty nodded in agreement, a grin on her face.

"You know, I'll never understand why girls are like that," commented Pig-pen thoughtfully after a few seconds. Patty and Violet frowned.

"Like what?" they asked at the same time.

"You know. Amazingly fake."

Cries of indignation immediately sprung out from the two girls.

"Oh my god that is not true. Why would you think we're fake?"

"That's totally sexist."

"It's the plain truth. You call each other "hon" and "darling" and even "biatch" in a friendly way and say shit like "we'll be friends forever!" or "you're totally like the sister I never had!" and treat each other like you're bosom friends; but once one of you is out of earshot, the criticizing and bitching from the others immediately begins," he replied matter-of-factly.

"That's not true," replied Patty, looking puzzled.

"Are you kidding me? You did it just now! As soon as Frieda couldn't hear you, you began bitching about her."

Violet rolled her eyes.

"Oh, good grief. I was kidding."

"Didn't sound like it."

"Well I was. I love Frieda. She's my friend."

"How can you girls tell the difference between your girlfriends and your enemies? You all criticize each other the same!"

"Oh, please. Like you never criticize any of your friends. Charlie Brown, for instance," scoffed Patty.

"Not behind his back."

"Yeah, right."

"No, we boys tend to tell each other what we think of them to their face. I call Charlie Brown a depressive psycho straight to his face. And he's called me a 'human soil bank' more times than I can count. The difference between girls and boys is that boys aren't fake with each other. We know what the other one thinks of us."

"Bullshit," replied Patty bluntly.

Pig Pen shrugged.

"Believe what you like, it's true."

Patty made a disbelieving noise and rolled her eyes. But she knew very well that he was right. She was fake, and she knew it. But in this world, you had to fake it in order to make it. You couldn't let people see what your thoughts were. You had to be careful around everyone. Even with your friends.

Especially with your friends.

Tell them the stuff they want to hear. Tell them the things they consider to be deep and profound but that in reality, don't even scratch the surface. Have a smile on your face at all times and don't let them know what's really in your brain.

Patty had learned that.

Pig-pen spoke up again after a few moments silence.

"By the way, Patty, there's a job you could have, other than babysitting, that is right under your nose. You'd be out of babysitting in a second if you actually bothered to look somewhere else than down it".

Patty turned her head sharply.

"What job?"

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly tell you. After all, I'm a loser. What do I know about jobs, right?" he asked mockingly, reaching out and dipping his finger into Violet's ice-cream and sticking it in his mouth. "Mmm. Chocolate."

"Ewwww!" cried Violet, clearly revolted. "Pig-pen, you're the most disgusting person ever. Ugh." She jumped up from her chair and shoved the ice-cream cone at him. "I'm not eating that now. I'm out of here. Coming, Patty?

"No, you go."

She needed another job, and she was going to get it out of Pig Pen if she had to torture him.

Violet shrugged and walked off. Patty turned to Pig Pen.

"What job?"

Pig Pen smirked. "Not so high and mighty now, are you? See how fake you are? You need a job, and I know of one, so you turn into a normal human being for a second and treat me nicely," he said in a teasing tone.

"Shut it. Tell me!"

Pig Pen smiled. "Look behind you."

Patty turned to see a sign that read 'We are hiring. Ask for details.'

"Not very observant, are you? I noticed it as soon as I walked in," said Pig Pen, savouring the chocolate ice-cream Violet had shoved at him.

"An ice-cream shop? I don't know…"

"Here I was thinking you'd be happy about it. Now that's what I call ungratefulness," said Pig Pen, pretending to be wounded.

Patty ignored him and frowned. An ice-cream shop. She didn't even want to come here with the girls, let alone work here every day. Too much temptation. She already felt the guilt coming up. She felt disgusted. Couldn't even control herself.

"I guess it's better than babysitting," she shrugged.

Take it, she told herself. It's not like you're going to be eating it if you're serving it. You can always go to the bathroom, anyway…

"I'll go ask. I'll be damned if I'm looking after those little brats again," she said decisively.

"That's the attitude!" grinned Pig Pen.

Patty sighed. Looked like she was getting a new job.