A considerably long author's note wow, you guys are still here?! I'm both shocked and impressed, considering how long I've been gone. But thank you so much for your reviews, they're really inspiring and ego-boosting.

One review mentioned that this story was in the Romance category. Yes it is, although none of the Romance-y stuff has started to come out. Out of curiousity, who would you prefer? Evatt (the evil chair stealer) or Nathaniel (Bike Boy)?

Anyhoo, sorry for how long this chapter took. First I was over-run by exams, so it's somewhat understandable why I didn't write. Then I had two weeks of holidays, in which I did nothing. Then I had another 8 weeks of school. Now I'm on holidays again and I randomly started writing. Thank you so, so, so, so much for sticking with this and I'm so, so, so, so sorry that this took so long.

Read. Enjoy. Review.

so much for a happy ending

chapter six, dedicated to you, the beloved readers, just because you're still here.

Tinfoil Hat!

Normally, my alarm wakes me up.

I hate my alarm.

Or, normally I hate my alarm.

Today, I love my alarm.

I want my alarm to wake me up.

But no.

Instead, I'm woken up by my mother, who shakes me like a salt shaker.

"I'm not a salt shaker," I mumble. She laughs at me, and shakes me a bit more and I get the impression that she has just ignored me.

That's sort of, kind of mean.

"I hate salt," I say and sit up. The sun is up. The sky is blue. The birds sing.

"Up, Sera, now."

"Whhyyyyyy?" I ask.

"You have half an hour before you're supposed to be at the library."

Oh yeah.

But wait-

"I'm not going."

"But you said you would!" Mom says, chirpily. She does it to upset me. Being chirpy, I mean.

"No, you said I was going," I mumble to Squink who nods, understandingly.

"Up. Now. Or. Else."

"Fine," I shout and as soon as my mother has left the room, I crawl back under the covers.

I hate mornings, sometimes but not always. They're so bright, unless it's really cloudy.

"SERA, GET UP!" Mom hollers at me. I hold my ears, and rub them gently to alleviate the pain that is loudness.

"FINE THEN," I shriek. And then I rub my ears again. Self harm, anyone?

And I stomp out of bed, into my clothes, into the bathroom, out of the bathroom, all the way down the stairs and to the kitchen table where I eat an apple before stomping out to the car where my mother joins me a minute later.

"What's this project that you're doing?" She asks me as she drives.

"There is no project," I say evilly. "I'm meeting-" I shudder as I say the name -"Evatt there because we're incredibly attracted to each other and are going to do things that you and Dad didn't do until after you were married in the library under some tables."

Mom gives me a fixed glare. "And now the truth?"

"Themes in Shakespeare presentation for English," I mutter.

"He's a very nice boy isn't he?"

"He's a very dead boy, Mom," I say.

"He's not dead!"

"Of course he is!" I splutter. Where has she been the past three hundred years or so?

"Wait," says Mom, confused. "Who are you talking about?"

"Shakespeare!" I splutter.

She laughs at me. "Oh no, Sera, I was talking about your friend."

She pulls up into the library.

"He's not my friend," I say as I slide out of the car. I do wish he was dead though. Not forever, that'd be way too mean. Just while this Project is in duration.

"Of course not, sweetie. He's your secret lover and you're going to do gloriously passionate things together," Mom mocks me.

That's actually a really mean thing to say. At least I know now that if I ever decide to forsake my justified prejudice against the male species of homo-sapiens that I have the full support of dear, old mother to do what ever I please with them.

"Ewwwwwwww," I say. That would never happen. Never. Ever. In the history of all Earth, it'd never happen. Ever. Like, really.

It also occurs to me that midgets can probably get height extending plastic surgery. I wonder why they don't? Or maybe they do and every second person you meet was originally a midget. How awe inspiring.

"Plastic surgery," I muse to myself. "Plastic surgery."

It's really in an intriguing idea.

Mom beeps the horn in goodbye and reverses out of the library parking lot.

I look around.

The place it totally and utterly deserted.

Totally and utterly.

I am totally and utterly alone, I realise.

Maybe, I think to myself, he thinks that I will have not showed up and so he has decided not to come.

That would make sense. Although it would mean that there was really no point to me being here as I wasn't even expected to.

I should just go home. Or to school. I should go to school. At this hour, I'm not sure if school is open. I doubt it. But then I have nowhere to go. I can't go home. I can't go to school. I'm at the library so I can't go to the library. I'm totally and utterly stuck and lost. Maybe forever. Oh GOSH.

I suck my breath in and release it carefully.

Calm down Sera, I think to myself. You're not going to be stuck here forever. Don't panic and-

Too late.

My breathing starts to come out in higher pitched, shallower gasps.

I'm going to die here, alone.

And then someone grabs my arm.

I latch myself to whoever it is.

"I'm not alone!" I gasp in total and utter pleasure.

Evatt, for that is who it is, tries, unsuccessfully to get out of my grasp.

"What is wrong with you?" He demands of me.

I think about this question.

"From whose perspective?" I finally ask, and let him go.

He gives me a look and takes a couple of steps away from me. I've never been that good in interpreting looks.

"Let's go," he says abruptly, "And get this finished."

"Ten-four," I agree.

He gives me another look and then walks away from me, finding a quiet, secluded table for which we can use to work on.

"So," he starts. "How do you want to do this?"

Do what, I wonder. I have a sudden delusion of myself in a do-gloriously-passionate-things-together position and inch away slightly.

"Um," I say. "The most painless and hygienic way possible."

Evatt looks exasperated. "Painless? Hygienic?"

I nod. Few things in life are as exciting as the task of something that is both painless and hygienic. One of my favourite mottoes.

"How about we make some posters to illustrate the context of the themes?"

I shrug.

"Or we could do this on the computer and make a slide show?"

I shrug again.

"Or we could write a play or something, and be creative."

I shake my head.

"No play then," Evatt says and crosses something off a piece of paper that he is holding. His dedication is kind of sickening.

"No," I echo hollowly.

"Do you have any ideas?" He asks me, in a tone that says he doesn't expect much of me.

"No."

"I see," he says in a tone that says he was right.

"Do you now?" I ask.

He ignores my attempt at distracting him.

"How about we just do a slide show? It'd be easy to do and we wouldn't have to talk so much," Evatt suggests.

I shrug.

"Was that a yes or a no?"

"It was a shrug," I tell him.

"Are you ok with the idea of doing a slide show?" He asks, with perhaps deliberate slowness.

"Sure," I start.

"Great," he says.

"-Except," I continue, "For the fact that I have never, ever, in my entire life, touched a computer in my entire life."

He stares at me. "Are you being serious?"

I shrug again.

"Sera. Are you being serious?" He looks tee'd off now.

"I guess so."

He exhales, loudly.

"But," I say helpfully, "We can still do it. It just means I won't do anything."

"That wouldn't be fair," Evatt protests.

"Sure it would. You do all the work and I don't stuff anything up. It's perfect!"

Evatt glares. "Or we can make posters."

"I'm allergic to glue."

"Seriously?"

"No."

"Then we can make posters!"

"No! I want to make a slideshow!"

"You don't even know how to!"

"But you do!"

"But we're supposed to do this together," Evatt grinds out.

Irrelevant.

"Then you can teach me," I finally say.

Evatt stares at me. "Teach you?"

"Sure," I say, realising it is too late to back out now although I'd much prefer to do the posters.

"Seriously?"

"Yes!"

He thinks I'm crazy, I can tell.

"Fine," he finally agrees. "But we have heaps of work to do."

"Vy yes ve do," I mutter in a foreign accent. "Vy, yes, ve doo!"

Evatt ignores me. "Ok. Today, after school, we'll go back to my house and start."

My head snaps up. Ouch. Whiplash, anyone?

Ouch.

"You never said anything about your house!" I cry. This has all been a trick! I have been made a fool of! I'm a mockery!

"Fine, your house. Do you have a computer?" Evatt switches sides.

"No. But Brian does." I say, after I think about it.

"Will he let us use it?"

"Sure. I guess. I'm pretty sure. But there's a chance he won't. A big change. Maybe not. I don't think so."

"Then why don't we just use mine?" Evatt asks, confused.

"I will not be make a mockery of!" I shriek.

He stares at me again.

"Your house," he finally concedes.

"I thought so," say I with an air of maddening superiority.

Hah. Maddening superiority. That's a funny phrase. Possibly it has something to do with the fact that al genius are apparently crazy? It makes sense.

"Fine," says Evatt. "And since I can't teach you here, I say we should get to school."

"Why can't you teach me here?"

"Because it's a library."

"What if I want to be taught here?" I ask, with my slightly hysterical (maddened, maybe) voice.

"You don't," Evatt says firmly.

"Yeah. That's true," I agree.

He laughs. It's a nice sound, I think to myself.

"Ok. I'll come over to your place at about four?"

"I guess that's ok. Are you going to stay for dinner?"

He glances sideways at me. "Are you asking me to stay for dinner?"

"No!" I say, affronted. "But I know that you will, because my Mom will ask you and she's like God, she can make you do stuff that you don't want to do and she'll make you stay."

Note that I say that extremely quickly.

Evatt looks amused. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind staying for dinner."

"Fine then. I will alert Her Majesty."

"Alright then."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine," I sniff, determined to have the last word.

There's a long pause.

"So.. Is it true you had a dream about me?"

I didn't get the last word, in case it wasn't obvious. I did hit Evatt pretty hard though, with a book, not with myself. That would be.. unhygienic. And he did call me a bad word. And then the librarian heard him and threw us out. And then I had to go to school. Life is totally, utterly pointless, sometimes.

Author's note Well, what did you think? Gah. Gah. I really don't know why I don't write more for this story, considering how easy it is once I get started.. Getting started is the hardest part, I guess.

If you've read, please review! And if feeling slightly bored, I wrote a new story a few days ago called Life, As It Should Be, teehee and all that.

::review responses::

Alyssa Pires (times 2!) thanks so much for reading, and yes, Sera is kinda crazy. Not in a mental institution type way, though. And I'm glad you like Evatt! Toodles!

sharp-tounged (times 2!) thanks so much for your reviews, they mean a lot and I'm really glad that you like them so much!! hope you're still reading XD

Salt and Vinegar Pringles Thank you so much!! Wow, that was a cool review that put a smile on my face : ) See you!

rockstaar-groupie thanks, I still can't believe that people are reading, it's been ages since I've updated but thank you for reviewing!!

Sugpup English? As in British? No she's not, I haven't really set this properly. I'm Australian, if that helps, so if you see different spellings, that's why. I've tried to make it slightly American just because so many people on fictionpress are from the U.S but yeah. Thanks for reviewing!!

birdytamel haha, I don't blame you for forgetting who Nathaniel is, it's been a while. But yes, in answer to your question, Nathaniel is also known as "Bike Boy". He's the guy that Sera accused of attempting to murder her. Does that help? I changed "my" to "your", thanks for that, I really should edit more carefully! Thanks for reviewing!!!

Kapoof Damn, I was hoping no one would ask where I was going, because I'm not entirely sure. It's in the Romance section because I just love writing romance (how cheesy. but still) and that'll come out eventually, but otherwise, I guess this is a coming-of-age type thing. Hope that's not too disappointing. Thanks for reading and reviewing!!

paradoxicalbanana I don't think there's much to get, even I don't know why I'm writing it, but I love Sera's randomness, which lets me (pretty much) write anything. I'm glad you're gonna keep reading, although I can't actually say that you'll understand soon, or that it'll get better, I hope it will but I don't know. And yes, Sera is 17 but she's very.. enclosed? I think that's the right word. Thanks fore reviewing!!

annonnymous ooh thanks, that's always a good sign!! Hope you're still reading !!

Fluerdemort I like mushrooms too, I ignore the fact that they are fungus (I hate that word, it sounds so creepy). The guy on the phone? Still annonymous as of yet, but hold on, let me check to see whether he has your binoculars. ::runs off to check.. sounds of struggle.. silence::

No, he doesn't, but I think he's got your pills cause he's gone slightly crazy XD thanks for reviewing!!

Para Noya You'll be happy to know that it was your review that jolted me out of my writing-absent-phase.. So yay for you and thanks for reading and reviewing!

Clara Clog Thank you heaps, I'm really glad that people do :)

Blue umbrella Your questions should have been answered, hope you're happy :)