Lyla couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a good night's rest, and the lack of sleep had taken a toll. She was keenly aware of her diminished energy level and the fogginess of her mind. Her thoughts seemed to take long, circuitous routes before connecting or arriving at a conclusion.

In the bathroom, she tilted her head back and applied eye drops then examined herself in the mirror. Blink, blink, blink. Her eyes were now merely pink instead of bloodshot red.

A noise in the bathtub attracted her attention. She tiptoed to the tub and peeked in. The tail of a snake disappeared down the bathtub drain.

Not real.

She bolted into the hallway.

An hour later, she trudged down the school hallway, searching for Jack among the throngs of students as she made her way to her locker. She found Richie consoling Darcy who leaned against the lockers, wrung out. Lyla was relieved to drop her bookbag onto the floor. The strap had been digging into her shoulder as though her bookbag was loaded with bricks.

Lyla asked, "How late did--?"

Darcy shook her head with remorse. "I don't even know."

"The party ended pretty much the way all Darcy's parties do," Richie sighed. "Me and Darcy eating microwave popcorn and binge-watching The O.C. Except I watched a lot of the episodes by myself. Poor girl was "indisposed" in the ladies' room."

"How much did you drink?" Lyla asked.

"There are a couple different theories about that," Darcy replied. "I sure could have used you to hold my hair."

She chuckled. "You want to get a frap or something after school? Can your stomach handle it?"

"Gotta watch the calories." Richie shook his head.

"Can't. I'm grounded," Darcy sighed. "That's another thing you were right about. Neighbors narced on me to my parents."

Lyla winced.

"So, what happened with you and Jack?" Darcy asked.

"Yeah, spill it, girl." Richie leaned in. "Not you," he said to Darcy. "You've spilled enough."

She couldn't help but notice the look of distress on Darcy's face when her smile dropped.

When she turned, Lyla discovered that she was a target. As Carissa broke away from Jack, her perfect blonde mane rode her shoulders, her green eyes flashed. She was undeniably beautiful even in the midst of a temper tantrum.

"See that guy right there?" She pointed to Jack. "M-I-N-E, mine."

Darcy was about to interject when Carissa warned, "You were about to say?"

Richie covered his mouth with his hand.

Darcy shook her head. "Me? Nothing."

Back to Lyla, Carissa turned up the volume. "I'm gonna try the direct approach with you. Keep the drama between you and your skanky tattooed boy-toy in your own little crazy world and stay the hell away from us." Her loud voice attracted onlookers. Her cheerleader pack, led by Nicole and Emily, buzzed around her in service to their queen bee.

Lyla didn't appreciate the lecture. "So, are we done? Or does the show continue?"

Carissa shot back, "I'm the opposite of the person you should say that to."

Jack interceded. "Come on." He grabbed Carissa's arm and pulled her away.

Carissa delivered a parting shot. "So who let you out of the house dressed like a hobo this morning?"

Laughter exploded from onlookers. Nicole flipped her off and Emily stuck out her tongue at Lyla.

So the breakup rumors weren't true. They were back together, or maybe they'd never been separated. Carissa draped her arm around Jack's waist as they walked away.

Richie's jaw hung. "Way to clap back to that hater, Lyla." He gave her a quick hug.

"Forget her." Darcy comforted her friend with a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"I mean look at her," Lyla sighed. "She's perfect."

"She's a perfect bitch," Darcy hissed.

"Let's not waste our time with compare and contrast." Richie shook his head. "It never ends well."

"That hair, that face, that body," Lyla continued. "Look at the way she's dressed. Must take her three hours to get ready in the morning."

"It would be worth it to look like that," Darcy grudgingly admitted.