A/N: ::insane laughter:: I actually finished something that I don't hate the ending of. I hate the beginning, but that can be fixed. Anyway, I was going to keep y'all waiting but tomorrow's my birthday so I wanted to update today so I wouldn't have to worry about it or anything. I hope you all have enjoyed this story!!

I wrote a sequeal, but only in my head. They don't usually come out well compared to the original, and the original wasn't fabulous to begin with. But I have another story I hope to get to work on soon that's kind of entertaining...or so I hope. Anyway, read, enjoy, review!!

Slow steps, breathe regularly. There's no reason he had to actually speak to any of his friends. No, he could hide easily. Well, if not easily, there were always plenty of random people to duck behind.

Four days out of school, four days trapped in his bedroom, had driven him to the brink of insanity. He didn't count Sunday, as he couldn't remember much of that. And it hadn't been a long drive. But still!

Jamie peeked around the next turn, scouting the hallway for life before darting to his locker. "Open, foul beast. For once in your putrid existence under my command, just open!"

Surprisingly, the door swung open. So rare was this, that he had allowed his head to drift closer than was wise and felt the metal door bang into his cranium. "Ow. But thank you."

His books, bag, and jacket poured into the compartment and he spun around swiftly. Still no one in sight. This was definitely the bonus of dragging your half dead carcass out of bed an hour early and into the building that haunted your dreams.

Slinking along the halls, he considered how he would possibly avoid everyone throughout the day. Well, it would surely come to him.

Jamie continued to wander around as more and more people started to arrive, filling the halls with their evil gossip. He ignored the looks in his direction with practiced ease.

By the time the first bell rang he could understand how Drew had snapped. Of course, that might not have happened. It depended if he had actually, as he feared, been talking to Jeremy….or if, by some weird stroke of luck, he had been talking to FomI.

Sliding through the door just before the bell rang allowed him to avoid any pre-class talking Drew may wish to do. Or you know, also allowed Jamie to avoid any bad feelings he may feel if Drew didn't want to talk to him.

Not that he tended to avoid emotions or anything. No. Because that would be unhealthy. He just avoided situations that would result in emotions he would want to avoid. Simple!

That class was its usual boring self and he slipped into his nice, stare at the teacher and pretend to follow what's going on while doodling in a way that imitates writing' phase.

It would be quite a gamble to talk to any of his friends now. He wasn't sure how Drew was feeling towards him at all, but quite likely, homicidal. And Ashley and Deborah, well….Ashley was probably a tad irked at being ignored for an extended period of time. Debby, um, it would be surprising if she really noticed.

And what was FomI, or Jeremy, talking about? They couldn't possibly be going out. Not that there was anything wrong with it, he just would have noticed. Right? They were friends. Friends with totally opposite temperaments that managed to continue their friendship despite the total unlikeness of that actually happening. Well fuck.

Well, nevertheless, they would both be very likely to forgive him. But what about FomI/Jeremy. Now that one would be a problem. It would probably be wise to find out if he had been dreaming or not. But the only one who could possibly know that would be Jeremy. And if Jamie hadn't been dreaming, and actually went to talk to him, then that would be awkward. But if he had been, well it would still be awkward. After the mall incident.

He was jerked rudely out of his thoughts by a sneaker smashing into the back of his leg….the back shin or whatever you call it. Jamie glanced at Grinder, who seemed to be leering most sadistically in his direction. "Well, James?"

Gah, it's Jamie, you fool! And well what? "Would you be so kind as to repeat the question? I was digesting the whole picture and not the specifics at the time you had questioned me so I'm not entirely sure where this conversation is leading so if you wouldn't mind…."

Hah, that stupid smirk is gone! The beauty of babbling and confusing your math teacher. Grinder pointed to some….circle like thing….inside of some other shape…shape thing on the board. "What is the angle measurement of this?"

How should he know? He didn't even know what the hell the stupid shape was, let alone some stupid angle measurement. Idiot. The finger touching his back was startling to say the least, but he did have months of experience at cheating on his side. And his cheating senses would never let the fact that the helper was supposed to be mad at him get in the way of cheating.

"I believe the correct answer would be forty two. But if I'm mistaken I'm s-"

"No, as per usual, you are correct. Maybe one day you could possibly transfer that intelligence to one of your tests, hmm?" Several members of the class snickered.

Jamie shrugged. "Maybe, but I have to say I enjoy aggravating you all the more," he replied back happily. That got more snickers. Flustered, the teacher left him alone for the first time all year.

He tried, as the bell signaling the end of one session of hell and the beginning of another rang, to escape without confrontation. Of course, if he had been bigger, stronger, or faster he might have succeeded. As it stood, Drew had grabbed his shoulder, preventing a quick escape.

Jamie sighed. Damn the taller, jocklike boy. "What?" he asked, sounding especially whiny today.

"I'm sorry for hitting you."

"Oh, it's quite alright. No pain no gain! Of course, I'm still waiting for any possible gain that could have come from that situation. But you know, waiting builds of patience and that's some virtue or something, right?" Jamie prattled.

"Right. I am sorry though, and I guess that wasn't the best reaction to have. But it would be lovely if you'd refrain from doing anything like that in the future. And you're not really…you know…in love with me or anything right? Because I have to say that'd be a little awkward," Drew asked, looking awkward himself.

"Hmm, oh no. Ew. Nothing personal of course, just…no. Did you get suspended this week for yelling at our Satan like math teacher?" Jamie replied. The sheepish look his companion had on his face made him feel less than confident in FomI's existence.

"Well, kind of. But he deserved it. And you know, I'm not gay. It's just a tad annoying to be constantly called that. Anyway, next class time now. Now go." Jamie digested that tidbit while being pushed along the hall to his next class.

Now, it could purely be a coincidence that FomI had mentioned Drew getting suspended. Or it had actually been Jeremy, an idea Jamie didn't like to entertain for long.

Of course, there was the third much more popular option. Jamie was a psychic and had used his powers during sleep to pick the mind of all those who had entered his room. And it had been Jeremy, as he had left that card. But that didn't mean Jamie had actually talked to him, just a figment that looked like him. But sadly….that one didn't seem quite likely. Damn.

The next few classes passed in what resembled a blur. An annoying, going much too fast for his tastes blur. At least he knew Drew didn't hate him. He did have his two possibly lesbian friends to contend with. And Jeremy. Gah.

All too soon the evil bells of doom rang, signifying the beginning of his two free periods and thus the beginning of his lunch of doom. They must be the Devil's bells!

Jamie took his sweet time emerging into the halls. Such a long time was taken that they were mostly unoccupied, the little hamster…other students having scurried off to their respective classes to 'learn' or mate in some dark hallway or something.

Now, he had two options. He could go speak with his two female friends. Or he could try and find Jeremy and hope he couldn't and thus avoid them all for this period and hope that next class they actually had one, unlike him. Hmm, yes, he'd certainly have to go for option number two!

Bypassing the cafeteria, Jamie slunk around the halls. After his fourth round, he figured it was a safe bet that none of them were lurking about. Oh darn. Well, hmm, now where would that art student be? Certainly not in the art rooms, no that would be silly.

Of course, they would have been easier to avoid if Jamie had mapped out his route a bit better when he began. Because now he was quite stuck in the art hallway. Hmm, well, he could just walk by these classrooms, the majority empty looking.

As his head looked into the first one, he cursed his curiosity. Most were actually as empty as they looked. What? Kids couldn't take art in the afternoon. It was certainly weird.

Growing careless by repetition, Jamie stuck most of his upper body into one of the last rooms. Seeing the object of his search, he let out a less than manly 'eep' before withdrawing quickly.

Well, at least he was sure not to have been see- "Jamie, I'm not blind nor am I stupid. Are you going to stand there having some weird internal monologue or are you going to actually enter the room?"

Yeah, well curse Jeremy! Jamie sighed in defeat, walking into the room unwillingly. "Hi."

"Oh, well hello there person who totally didn't sound like a girl a second ago. What brings you here? Other than spying on me?" All this was said in a really creepy way as Jeremy continued to paint on some rather large looking piece of paper.

"Don't you…paint on canvasses or something?" Jamie asked, scratching the back of his head. Nervous habit, something he really should avoid.

"Right, well as this school has a never ending supply of them, of course. This is obviously just a practice before I move onto that unlimited supply. It is possible to paint on other mediums," Jeremy explained, still refusing to look at him.

"You paint on psychics?"

This did catch the blond's attention and he glanced up doing that stupid one eye brow lifty thingy. "Are you high on medication again?"

Damn it. That really wasn't a statement that would leave Jamie to believe he had been talking to FomI and not Jeremy. Double damn. "No. I'm high on life," he replied brightly, sitting on one of those art room stools that surrounded the large wooden tables in the middle of the room.

"Right. Well, do you want something? Because I'm kind of busy here."

"Well, if you're busy, I can always come back another time. Or never or something like that. Bye!" Before he could do anything other than spin around on his stool, the commanding voice of FomI/Jeremy halted him.

"Jamie, sit. Talk."

Hah, he wasn't one to be bossed around! Jamie stood, but didn't move. But he didn't talk either, so it was like…a silent sort of rebellion against being told what to do. Or something like that…you know, if that made any sense at all.

He spun around a few times before striding off towards one of the large metal shelves. Pretty, shiny things. Much shinier than Drew's car and not as rusty. Ooh, pretty markers. Yeah!

"Jamie, don't touch the shelf," Jeremy instructed, watching him now. An improvement over ignoring his very existence. They were making progress! Now…what was he supposed to say?

"Why not?" Well, that worked. He stared at the other boy, finger extended to poke one of the shelves. "What could really happen? These things are pretty solid, right?"

Jeremy just watched as he poked the gray metal. Nothing. He poked it harder, eventually pushing lightly on the heavy material. Only this time, instead of nothing happening, the thing shifted slightly. Or a little more than slightly. Just enough to make something higher up tip over.

Jamie, baffled, looked up, poised to ask what that was. Of course, that was before the orange liquid poured itself onto his face and body. His mouth snapped shut, but not before some of the awful liquid found its way inside. At least it had kept itself from his eyes.

As he spat a mouthful of orange goop on the floor, he heard Jeremy laughing at him. And not quiet, mocking laughter. No, loud and mocking laughter. "I told you not to touch the shelf. You should've listened."

"This was a setup! You knew that I would be attracted to the shiny shelves and you obviously put that open can of paint up there. You wanted me to be orange!"

"Oh you caught me Jamie. I really wanted you to be an orange fruit. Well, I have my wish now!" the giggling teenager said.

Jamie put his hands on his hips, glaring in what wasn't likely to be an intimidating way. "I hate you. Hmph."

Enraged, he spun around on his heel, grabbing another open can of paint. He advanced on the unperturbed looking boy.

Now, his plan would have worked had he been walking slower or had his shoes and the floor not been covered in slippery paint. As it were, he slipped, the jar of paint slipping from his fingers.

No, it didn't arc slowly through the air only to land on his opponents head. It didn't arc at all, unfortunately. But it did manage to slip out of his paint slippery fingers and splatter all over him. Goody!

"Now you're a mix of blueberries and an orange!" Jeremy pointed out, oh so helpfully.

"Die," Jamie muttered, pushing himself off the floor and only slipping once. His clothes were sticking to his body along with his hair. "And this is your shirt."

Ooh, take that fool! Jeremy was looking far too amused to be bothered by it though. Far too amused to really notice much like the fact that a boy who was dripping paint was standing right in front of him. Or those two open jars he had been using to paint. Well, he did notice the red one when it was poured over his laughing head.

"Hah! I win!" Jamie cried gleefully.

He tried to back peddle, to escape, but to no avail. Hands reached out, sticky red hands, grabbing his shoulders, forcing him to remain in place.

"Did you have some point in coming here other than taking a bath in paints?" Jeremy asked. Once more his face was far too close. Didn't the boy ever hear of personal space? Jamie would make allowances for it this once seeing as he had poured paint over his head.

"Um, well, I was…I wanted to….I…I don't know…," was his rather lame reply.

This time he didn't think of pulling away when the other boy kissed him. He didn't think of much else at all.

Jamie ignored the stares he got as he walked through the cafeteria. At least he knew it wasn't for the same reason. No, it probably had something to do with the fact that his clothes were paint drenched. Or maybe they were staring at the boy who was following him, who was in a similar state of dress.

His three evil and Devil like friends had congregated at their usual table and all three looked up when he let a plastic tray clatter to the table top. Hopefully the impact would kill whatever might be living in the school food. If not, well what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

Six eyes were staring at him and Jeremy. Jamie glared at them. "What, you wanted some grand announcement. Eat your damned food."

"You don't even get points for effort on that one," Ashley decided.

"Why are you covered in paint?" Drew asked.

"Does this mean you're not upset with us anymore?" Deborah questioned.

"I like paint," he snapped, replying to one of the three.

"Somewhere in the school there is a room covered in paint," Ashley offered.

"But if no one sees it, does it make a mess?" Deborah asked. Jamie glanced at her briefly, shaking his head.

"Well no, I'm sure Mrs. Brynt cleaned up the room by now," Jamie explained.

"Oh, isn't she the teacher who you nearly killed with one of the shelves in ninth grade?" Drew asked.

Jamie glared at him. "Fool! How was I to know that it was unsteady? It's not like she told me!"

Jeremy stared at him like he was less than sane. "So you knew the shelf was broken? Why'd you touch it?"

"Well, obviously, I thought after it had fallen the first time she would have done a better job fixing it. Obviously art teachers aren't hired for their handiness."

"Are you done denying your true nature of self?" Deborah asked, cutting effectively into the conversation.

Uncomfortable with three sets of eyes watching him, and the evil green/hazel like ones trying not to stare at him, Jamie floundered.

"Good, I'm glad you won't," the spacey girl said happily.

"But I didn't even answer you," Jamie groaned.

"Exactly. If you were going to be drama queen like and deny, deny, deny, you would have done so already," Deborah explained.

"Plus, you have red hand prints on your ass," Ashley added.

Jamie choked on his fries. "But what does that mean to you? He washed the red paint off his hands!"

Jeremy smacked the back of his head. "You are an idiot."

"Well….you knew that," Jamie replied.

Drew just sighed, getting up and leaving. He was readily accepted at his other home, with his bubbly and scary girlfriend.

"Aw, Ashey, now we can double date!" Deborah squealed. Ashley sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Not if they don't wash the paint off their bodies," she said, sneering in their direction.

"I don't know why I associate with either of you," Jamie grumbled.

"But if you didn't then you never would have met Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeremy," Ashley explained, sounding like the three-year-old she was. Jamie glared at them, clenching the hand he was holding tighter. Jeremy just grinned, rolling his eyes at all of them.

"Well, at least now you can kiss someone who won't punch you in the face!" Deborah declared, rather loudly. Both boys faces were rather red by this point as they ignored the two girls, eating their horrid lunch prepared en masse.

At that moment one of the many brainless pupils in the great public school they attended passed by. A male, no less. "Stupid dykes."

Jamie grimaced. Deborah seemed to not hear anything, absorbed as she was in drawing over what looked like some history notes. Ashley calmly finished her awful chocolate milk before placing the container gently on her tray. "If you'll excuse me, I have a head or two to crack."

"You have really bizarre friends," Jeremy said after the scary girl walked over to the idiots table.

"Yes, but you have to admit they're really fun to watch," Jamie admitted, boldly letting his head rest on the taller boy's shoulder. "Kind of like when you pretend to throw a rock for your dog, in the direction of a lame cat. Of course, the cat's lame because you kicked it after it scratched you in the face last week. But you can't kill it because that'd be murder. This way you're just an accessory to murder. That's a shorter prision sentence and a way cooler name!" Jamie explained.

Jeremy looked mildly disturbed. "You are not allowed to have pets, love. Ever."

"Spoilsport," Jamie complained, grinning regardless.

A/N: ::Sob:: my beautiful story, gone and finished forever...or at least until I start editing it again. Oh well. Hope you liked!! Ciao!!