Disclaimer: The Stepford Wives is property of Ira Levins, "Suddenly Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors is property of MTI Shows, "King Cry Baby" from Cry-Baby is property of John Waters, "Lola" is property of the Kinks, America's Next Top Model is property of Bankable Productions, and Project Runway is property of Bravo network. Phew, super-long disclaimer for a super-long chapter!

I looked out the window. It’s not like there was nothing else to do. Annie was swooning over Jackie-Poo (the hilariously obnoxious nickname from a not-so-hilariously obnoxious person, Sophie), and my partner, Oliver the midget, said he had a late night, and fell asleep 5 minutes after we left school. And I still don’t have my iPOD.

Oh, look, cows.

Enough of this ‘looking-out-the-window’ crap. I peered around the bus. My hunk of England was sitting with the Idiot Brigade, and Annie. My detestation of Jack, Adrian, and Eddie overshadowed my longing to talk to Annie…and, of course, the resident British guy.

Eddie Gray is my cousin. Neither of us would ever own up to it, but yes, his mom is my mom’s twin sister. We were born three days apart (I, obviously, first. Bahaha.), so, naturally, we were expected to be tight. Well, as you can see, it didn’t exactly work out that way. Our first day of first grade, Eddie met Jack, and Annie and I met Yena.

Yena was not an alternate spelling of ‘Nina’. No, her given name was Charlotte Melissa Smith. Yena was short for hyena. Well, you can only imagine how she got that nickname. When she thought something was funny, she laughed. No, not laughed, cackled. Like a hyena. Seriously, if you didn’t love her to death, you would have to shoot her, just because of that. On another note, in seventh grade, she was transferred to Connifey Learning Center…which is basically juvie, only you live at home. She hit some girl with a chair FIVE TIMES at chorus practice. Yena was 4’10”. Impressive, no?

Anyway, Jack didn’t like her. And Jack brought snacks for the class that day, plus he had a dirt bike, so Eddie, being the sheep he was, followed his lead. That was basically our break, and the crack has grown bigger and bigger ever since. I, an overtly dramatic band geek/theatre geek, and him, the second most desirable boy in school, only behind Jack Martin himself.

Adrian Lebundusky was, according to Annie’s partner in Home Ec., “as close to tall, dark, and handsome as anyone got in middle school.”. Well, he’s my height. And I’m not all that tall. Handsome, not so much, in my humble opinion, but, hey, whatever floats your boat. Dark, I will give him. He had Italian ancestors, which was obvious. His black hair hung into dark eyes and olive skin. But, still, totally not my type. Plus, in the five years I had known him, I believe I had heard him say maybe fifty words.

Which brings me to Jack. The famous Jack Martin, quarterback of the KLDMS Football Team, was practically attached by the hip to infamous ice queen, Sophie Wiennamen. How original. Cheerleading captain and Quarterback, a couple. He took Honors Classes with Annie and me, but how he got in there goes over my head. Last semester, he was my partner for a project in Honors Literature. We had to do a re-enactment of a scene from a book of our choice. We ended up doing The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin, simply because A) I know that book backwards and forwards, and B) he said he saw the movie. We did the scene in which Bobbie stabs Joanna to death (as much as I despise Jack, he makes a very attractive girl), and it wasn’t until then that I found out that Jack had seen the remake. The seventy-nine I got on that is the lowest grade I’ve ever gotten. Annie said it was because I put Jack in drag, but I personally say it was because mid-stab with the cardboard knife, Jack blurted out, “Say ‘ello to my lil’ friend!”, and went after Ms. Kittford, who does not have the sense of humor that our previous teacher had had.

“Phew,” I hear a voice say from beside me. Three hours into the bus ride, and my partner had awoken. Then again, I looked around me. Most of my peers were asleep.

And, then he pulled out his iPOD. Crap it.

It was green, and as he put on his earphones, I noticed they were decorated with various patterns. I went back to staring out the window (seriously, how many cows are there in North Carolina?), but a couple minutes later, I heard what was unmistakably singing from my side.

“Suddenly Seymour is standin' beside you. You don't need no makeup, don't have to pretend. Suddenly Seymour is here to provide you. Sweet understanding Seymour's your friend…”

Oh. My. Freaking. God. He is not singing Little Shop of Horrors. No way. No one in my entire school has seen that movie. And this little guy from Dekken has it on his iPOD.

Just to see if he was paying attention, I sang along where I was pretty sure he was at. (On another note, really, listening to music that loudly can’t be good for your ears.)

“Suddenly Seymour is standin' beside me. He don't give me orders. He don't condescend.”

And I thought he about had a heart attack. He even paused the music and everything.

“You know Little Shop?”

“Of course! Why else would I be singing along?”

“Good point. You want an ear bud?”

He handed it to me. I’m a little paranoid about ear wax, so only after I stared intensely a few minutes did I put it in. By now, the song had changed.

“Little Shop of Horrors to Panic at the Disco?”

“What? I have eclectic taste.”

3 hours later

“Cry baby, cry-a-baby, cry-a-baby, cry!”

Ivy Down and Sarah Shone glared at us. They didn’t realize that you have to sing along to Cry-Baby at the top of your lungs.

Oliver, I’ve discovered, is incredibly fun. We listen to the same weird variety of music, like campy movies as well as Oscar-nominees, and both of us heartily despise Hannah Montana and Company. Next on the shuffle of music was “Lola” by the Kinks. If Cry-Baby wasn’t enough of a sing-a-long, this would definitely fulfill that standard.

“I MET HER IN A CLUB DOWN IN OLD SOHO, WHERE WE DRINK CHAMPAGNE AND IT TA-“

We felt the ear buds being pulled out of our ears. Ms. Frink, whilst destroying our sing-a-long, was all smiles.

“Now, children, I’m super-duper happy you two get along, but your classmates are trying to sleep, and you two are being an eensy bit too loud. So why I don’t just take care of this (she held up the iPOD) until morning?”

So, Oliver got his music confiscated.

We turned to each other.

“So…” I began.

“What’re gonna do without tuneage?”

“Well, we haven’t actually properly introduced ourselves. Like, Ms. Frink’s introduction was hardly satisfactory.”

“Okay. I’m Oliver Pope, I’m currently the only boy in the DMS chorus, and I like Broadway musicals. You?”

“Roxanna Low, band geek, obsessed with Broadway as well, addicted to America’s Next Top Model, Project Runway, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Sweet. My sister’s in band, and does the whole Top Model thing. What instrument do you play?”

“Saxophone, basically the sexiest instrument ever. You have a sister? You know who she’s rooting for this season?”

“Yeah, she’s my twin. Erm…. Kata…Kater…Katar…”

“Katarzyna! I like her, but Anya’s the bomb. Twin? Where is she?” I peered around the bus, looking for a girl version of Oliver.

“She doesn’t look a lot like me. She’s about my height, has brown hair, green eyes, bounces a lot.”

I looked even harder. I thought I wouldn’t find her, but over in the front right-hand corner of the bus, I saw her. Her hair was tied up on the top her head. I felt my insides burst with jealousy. I don’t wear my hair up on the account of my monstrously large ears.

“Earth to Roxanna! Do you see any martians?”

Oliver smiled smugly at me.

“So, what books do you read?”

And that single topic kept us going all night.

A/N: Wow, this is an extremely long chapter for me. Love it? Hate it? Review!