Fanfiction

Episode No. 26 - Underneath the surface

written by Lady Guinevere

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based on stories and characters created by Winnie Holzman

[Jordan’s house, Saturday morning]

Angela VO: “So… here I am. I just awoke in Jordan Catalano’s arms, after the *most* wonderful night of my life. Sometimes I wonder if I am still dreaming, like maybe this never happened for *real*. Maybe this only happened in my head, because it seems too good to be true. I am *so* happy, I feel like I am about to burst!”


Angela is slowly awaking, all tangled up in Jordan’s embrace. Sunlight is filtering through the curtains, playing games of hide and seek over their faces. Jordan is taking in the sight of Angela’s sweet face when her eyes open up slowly. A smile spreads across her face when Jordan’s eyes stare back at hers. “Hey.” She scoots even closer to him.

“Hey,” Jordan’s eyes radiate pure bliss. He can’t take his eyes of the sweet creature lying in his bed, so close to him.

“You wanna know something?” Angela can’t stop smiling and gazing into his eyes. She would give anything to wake up next to Jordan for like, the rest of her life.

“Yeah…” Jordan’s eyes encourage her to say more.

“Last night was like, the best night of my life, ever. Thank you for that, Jordan Catalano.” Angela’s eyes give away the gratitude she feels towards Jordan.

“My pleasure,” Jordan gives Angela the sweetest grin.

“You know, I can’t believe this…” Angela stares at the ceiling; still at disbelief with the whole situation, “I can’t believe… I’m not a virgin anymore!” She wants to let the whole world know before the feeling consumes her from within.

“Yeah, me neither. I was like, *so* hoping you’d come. But it was like…” Jordan licks his lips before he continues, “I was afraid you would like, change your mind.”

Angela admits to him, “You know, I was afraid of that too. I was *so* nervous to be here with you, alone, you know.”

“Angela?” Jordan’s voice sounds a tiny bit insecure.

“Yeah?” Angela turns her head to look in his eyes; while the smile of happiness seems to be plastered on her face permanently.

Jordan’s eyes are fixated on Angela’s. “You were, like, umm, the first girl I brought here, you know?”

“No, I didn’t know that. Thank you for doing that, Jordan, again.” Angela can’t stop smiling anymore.

“That’s okay.” Jordan wraps his arms around Angela tightly again and buries his face in her hair.



Angela VO: “Jordan Catalano never seizes to amaze me. I know there have been girls in his life before. So why didn’t he like ever bring one of them home? Does this mean, he is *really* serious about me? Or maybe it means he is like, ashamed about his situation? There is like *so* much about Jordan I don’t know yet, or even understand. But I am willing to figure him out completely, both mentally as well as physically; because he is like worth the effort and time completely. And the best part is, he makes *me* feel worth it, too, despite the few words he says to me.”




[Amber’s house, Saturday morning]

Amber walks into the messy living-room, where Rickie and Corey are still asleep on the couches. “Good morning guys!”

Rickie and Corey grunt out some sort of greeting and start to stretch out and move a bit.

Amber shows no mercy, and says what she needs to say, “Listen, one of you has to go over to Jordan Catalano’s house to tell Angela that I called her mother last night. The poor girl will be in a lot of trouble if Patty finds out what *really* happened last night…”

Rayanne walks in the room. “I know *I’m* not going…”

“I know, Angel. I’m guessing that’ll turn into an awkward situation.” Amber continues, “So, Rickie or Corey, please get of your butts, and go warn Angela before she returns home to face the Spanish Inquisition!”

Rickie protests, “I don’t, like, *own* a car. Or even a driver’s license, for that matter.”

Corey says, “I don’t mind driving up there, but I don’t know her that well. So, you wanna come along Rickie?”

“Sure, why not.” Rickie gets up from the couch, stretches a little more and he and Corey walk out the door; ready to make the drive over to Jordan’s house.



Rayanne plops down on the couch and realises her feeling of triumph is being greatly overshadowed by a hung-over feeling, and *not* just from the booze she had. It was such a *rush* being on that stage, hearing the audience hold its breath because she *had* them. She enchanted them. She was *actually* good enough to shut other people up.

So *why* did she have to get all liquored-up again afterwards? Why couldn’t she have just enjoyed the natural high she was feeling, the adrenalin pumping through her vanes? And why did she have to get locked inside school, with Brian Krakow of all people? *Why* did she let him *touch* her?

If the cops hadn’t shown up when they did, there’s no telling how far she would have gone with him. It’s like, all boundaries fade when she’s been drinking. She just doesn’t care anymore. That’s how things got out of hand with Jordan as well.
It’s just, Brian like seemed so eager, so easy to please too, so *innocent*. Why did she play with him, toy with his feelings and emotions? Even *he* deserves better than some drunk-out-of-her-mind-chick. It’s like, she doesn’t like who she has become anymore.

She never would have thought she could have recollected last night without loathing what she did to Brian, but she can. The only loathing she *does* feel, is for *herself*, and herself alone, how ironic is that?




[Chase’s house, Saturday morning]

Patty is standing in the kitchen, dialling Amber’s number. She waits for Amber to pick up. “Oh hi, Amber, it’s Patty!”

Amber sounds surprised, “Oh hi Patty!”

Patty shifts around the kitchen nervously, “So, I was just checking to make sure Angela and Rayanne are fine. Because, if I may say so, honestly, you gave me a sleepless night, last night.”

Amber sighs, “Patty, I told you not to worry! They’re fine, both of them!”

Patty needs to be *sure*, “So, umm, can you please put Angela on the phone?”

Amber answers hastily, “Oooh, Patty, you know *teens*, right? They’re both still sound asleep! And you know what happens when you wake them up, don’t you?”

Patty sighs, her eyes roll in their sockets. “Boy, don’t get me started…”

Amber tries to cut Patty off, “Just trust me, Patty. Angela’s fine. You’ll see her whenever she’s ready!”

Patty hopes Amber is right, but she’s aware this call won’t ease her mind, “I know, I know. Thank you, Amber. Have a nice day. Bye now!”

Amber answers, “You’re welcome, and you too. Bye bye!”



Graham walks in, startling Patty. “Oh, Graham, you scared me!”

Graham looks at his wife inquisitively, “Who were you talking to?”

Patty answers light-heartedly, “Oh, no one.”

Graham eyes his wife closely, “You called Amber, didn’t you?”

Patty flushes immediately. “I did no such thing!” She walks through the kitchen shifty.

Graham keeps his eyes fixated on her, “Patty, I know you. You are worried about Angela, aren’t you? You worry when you have no control over the situation.”

Patty stops dead and looks at Graham pleadingly, “Well, I’m allowed to worry, aren’t I? And with this Amber-person, any *normal* mother would worry along with me!”

Graham raises his voice, “Yes, you’re allowed to worry, but Angela’s not a dumb kid. She doesn’t get carried away that quickly, and she doesn’t copy her friends’ behaviour. She’s a good kid, and I feel kind of sorry for her, that *you* don’t want give her the benefit of the doubt.”

Patty can’t stop thinking, “No, it’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s just… I don’t know…”

Graham sighs, “Trust her, Patty. Have faith in her judgement. *You* raised her after all.”

“But what if I failed, Graham?” Patty looks at her husband, worried.

“You did not fail, Patty. In fact, *we* did not fail, at raising our daughters. But right now, I have to go over to the restaurant. Please, stop worrying, and do something that’ll take your mind of this, promise me?” Graham sounds calm.

“I promise. Have a good day, honey.” Patty gives him a reassuring smile while her mind is still wandering.

Graham kisses his wife goodbye and leaves through the backdoor.




[Outside Jordan’s house]

Corey parks his car in front of Jordan Catalano’s house and Rickie gets out. He walks up to the door and rings the doorbell. No answer. Rickie waits for a while but grows impatient. He notices Jordan’s car, so it means he *has* to be home. Rickie rings the bell another time and steps back a few yards. He starts yelling, “Jordan! Angela!” He awaits any reaction, but nothing happens.

He mumbles to himself, “I wouldn’t want to be like, disturbed either, if I were in there with Jordan Catalano.” He walks back to the car, steps inside and asks Corey, “Hey, maybe we can leave Angela a note instead? Have you got like, a pen and some paper?”

Corey opens up the dashboard cupboard and grabs out a notepad and a pen. “Here you are!”

“Thanks.” Rickie starts writing a note to Angela, pauses, reads the whole note again, and then returns the notepad and pen to Corey. “Thanks.”

Rickie gets out of the car and walks to the front-door again. He tries to ring the doorbell once more; just in case. He waits for a while, after which he decides to slide the note under the door. He doesn’t really believe in God, but closes his eyes and folds his hands together, praying Angela will find the note in time.

He walks back to the car and tells Corey, “We did our best. We can’t like wait around all day, hoping they will ever come out that door. I know *I* wouldn’t!”

Corey grins. “I guess I would do the same thing…” He starts the car and they drive back to Amber’s place.



[At the restaurant place]

The ceilings and walls are painted totally, and the floors are being delivered today. Graham talks to the workers about the flooring; pointing and gesturing. He walks up to Hallie while the workers are beginning to lay the wooden floors.

Graham eyes Hallie curiously, “So Hallie, how was your date with my brother? Where did he take you?”

Hallie answers enthusiastically, “The date was nice, very nice. He brought me to this cosy little Italian restaurant, you know, the kind with the red-white chequered tablecloths. We had a very romantic evening, and a very lovely dinner. Though I couldn’t stop myself comparing the dishes to *your* cooking…”

Graham smiles at her, “I’m glad you two had a good time. Hmm, I know what you mean; I can’t have a normal dinner at a restaurant anymore without determining the foods. I tend to find inspiration in some recipe, or even the décor. This restaurant is messing with our heads!”

“I know what you mean, Graham. But we’re finally getting somewhere! Look around you! How long do you think it will be until we’re open for business?” Hallie looks around the restaurant with a proud feeling.

Graham is frowning, “That’s hard to say. Depends on how soon the furniture and kitchen supplies will be delivered, I guess. But Hallie, we still don’t have a name yet…”

Hallie’s face is displaying her pondering as well, “Ooh, I know! I’ve been wondering and pondering, but so far… At first I thought it would have to do something with the mermaids’ statue, but that limits our options to a nautical theme, or a fairytale theme. And since we have agreed not to limit ourselves to sea-foods alone, option one is dismissed. And a fairytale theme seems so lame…”

“Well, I have been thinking it through as well. We want to give our guests a taste-pleasing experience, right? We want them to think of the food as divine or heavenly. We want them to *experience* an outer-body trip, and since I *don’t* intend to do that by making magic mushrooms, we’ll have to have an insinuating name.” Graham looks at Hallie provocative.

Hallie closes her eyes. “Yeah, I’m seeing it, feeling it; but how to describe it?”

Graham whispers to her, “How about: ‘Seventh Heaven’?”

Hallie lets the name sink in first. “Yes, Graham. I think that’s exactly right!”

Graham smirks, “Well, I’m glad you agree. Thank you. Now we’re sure about the name, we can order our sign, our receipts, our placemats, etc. It’s probably gonna take some time for them to come up with a good logo and such.”  

“Yeah, so, are you gonna contact them? Try to make an appointment during the evening or weekend for me to approve things, okay? Oh, but wait! Not tonight, ofcourse.” Hallie points her fingers at his chest.

“Hallie, I’m well aware of you working hours, so I’ll keep them in mind. And umm, what’s so important tonight you can’t be here?” Graham cocks his eyebrow at her.

Hallie smiles and answers playfully, “Another date with your brother, ofcourse!”




[Jordan’s house]

Angela is sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying the sight of Jordan who is fixing her something to eat. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

Jordan smiles shyly, “Yeah, well, kinda. You can hardly call it like, cooking.”

Angela tries to make conversation with Jordan, “So, is your dad out of town for business?”

Jordan tucks his hair behind his ear. “No. He’s like, visiting his brother.”

“So, do you get along with him? I mean, I used to be like *big* buddies to my dad, until my *breasts* got in the way…” Angela’s face frowns.

Jordan’s hands hold still for a moment. “Well, umm, he’s not that interested in me, or something.”

Angela regrets her questionnaire, “I’m sorry. I mean, it must be hard not having your mom around, and being ignored by your dad as well.”

Jordan continues cooking. “Yeah well, it’s like, better this way.”

Angela retorts incredulous, “How can it be better this way? I know my parents can like, be a real pain in the ass sometimes; but in the end I guess I’m like glad they’re there for me, and support me and stuff.”

Jordan faces Angela. “You see, my dad, he, umm…” He licks his lips and continues, “He used to smack me around the house, so…” He turns his back on Angela again.

Angela’s face turns white from shock. She’s being nailed to her seat for a moment. When the first shock subsides, she gets up from her seat and walks up to Jordan. She wraps her arms around him and whispers, “I’m so sorry for you, Jordan. I don’t really know what to say to you… Except that you don’t deserve it, and I *really* don’t get it. I’ll always be here for you, I promise.”

Jordan cradles himself in her embrace and mumbles, “Thanks, angel.”


Angela VO: “Being here with Jordan has taught me so many new things, that I am like *never* gonna be my old self again. It’s like all the things Jordan told me, changed me more than losing my virginity did. All this knowledge about Jordan Catalano and his parents are like the beginning of a new era. He must have faith in me, in *us* even, for sharing all these private things.
“I am beginning to understand *why* he acts the way he does and I am regretting all those times in the past I blamed him for being ‘like this’, because now I *know* why he is ‘like this’. His mother abandoned him, and his father used to smack him around the house. He does not know how to have a normal relationship, because he has never seen examples of it, nor has he experienced any. Jordan Catalano was never *loved*, and never wanted. I will put an end to that, but I know I can’t do it all at once. I don’t want to scare him off, so I have to take things slow. I know I shouldn’t expect any miracles from his side, either; but it’s okay, because now I know *why*.
“Knowing this, knowing Jordan Catalano, has taught me something very important: *never* judge a book by its cover.”




[Brian Krakow’s house]

Brian sits in his darkroom, developing the pictures he took last night. Besides having a head-ache because of the liquor he had, his mind is not really with his actions today. He keeps thinking back about what happened between Rayanne and him.
He knows she usually *loathes* him, and she really doesn’t care *who* she has sex with, but would anything have happened if she really *hated* him? She must like him at least a *little*, right? She’s not *that* self-esteem-less, is she?

And what if, the cops hadn’t shown up when they did? Would she have gone further? Would *they* have gone further?

Brian keeps looking at his fingers, like he recently discovered them. Like he is trying to find some trace of evidence of where they have touched Rayanne’s leg. That wonderfully smooth and soft, yet firm leg.

“Come on, Krakow, snap out of it!” Brian slaps himself in the face, not condoning his mind wandering off constantly. He takes a look at some of the pictures that are almost dry, and finds a picture of Rayanne on stage.

What *is* it about her? Is it just some sort of physical attraction, like those cases in which hatred turns to passion? Or is it more? When did his feelings for Rayanne Graff change? Why is he suddenly so obsessed with her? She’s everything he is *not*! They are *completely* incompatible, they inhabit different *planets*. She’s even further out of reach to him, than Angela is…!

He is like *dying* to tell someone, but *who* is he gonna tell? Nobody will believe him! He can’t tell Rickie, Angela or Sharon. Come to think of it, he hardly has *any* friends.



[Jordan’s house, Saturday afternoon]

Angela is sitting on Jordan’s lap, on the couch. “You make a mean omelette, Jordan Catalano!”

Jordan smiles shyly, “Thanks…”

Angela sighs, “But… I guess I should go home.” Her facial expression changes into a sad one.

Jordan retorts, “Yeah, I guess so. I have like, band rehearsal later, so. Need a lift?”

Angela’s eyes smile at Jordan. “Okay, but maybe you have to drop me off at the corner or something, ‘cause I wasn’t supposed to see you today, or even worse, yesterday…”

Jordan answers, “Good thinking…”

Jordan and Angela can’t stop kissing and touching each other, the feelings are consuming them. Just before things threaten to get out of hand again, Angela withdraws her lips from Jordan’s hungry mouth. “I *have* to go. We could go on like this forever, but I have to go home at *some* point…”

Jordan asks her teasingly, “Can’t you like, tell your mom, you’re staying away another night?” His lips are caressing her neck, his tongue is drawing circles, lower and lower.

Angela tilts her head back but shoots it right back up, “Jordan! Stop it! I don’t think so, no. You’re *evil*, you know that?!” She slaps him playfully on his chest. “Stop trying to seduce me to stay, ‘cause you’ll be sorry if I never *ever* leave again…”

“Having sex with you like, all the time, doesn’t sound too bad.” Jordan’s lips brush over her cheek, until they have reached her lips again. Eagerly Jordan starts to kiss Angela, playfully, passionately, opening up her lips and thrusting his tongue inside her hot, wet mouth, in search of her tongue. Angela surrenders to his kisses and joins in the game. For the umpteenth time that weekend Jordan and she explore each other’s bodies, until they end up making love.


All flustered and partially dressed Angela gets up from the couch where she and Jordan were having sex. She walks to the bathroom in the hall, when her eye is drawn to a piece of paper on the doormat. She reaches out to pick it up, and sees her name written on it. She opens up the note and reads its contents.

Dear Angela,

How was it with Jordan Catalano? You *have* to tell me everything later!
Anyway, Amber asked me to warn you! When Rayanne didn’t come home last night, Amber called your mom, asking about Rayanne. Amber told your mom that you *weren’t* missing, and were fine. We came to Amber’s apartment while she was still on the phone, to let her know Rayanne was *trapped* inside school! (Yes, like, again.) So, Amber like told your mom that Rayanne had been found after all, and was alright. (She sent the cops to free Rayanne, who had been locked in there with Brian Krakow, poor guy.)
Anyway, Amber thought your mom was suspicious, so beware!!!

Love, Rickie


“Jordan! You’d better me get me home right now…” Angela shouts in the direction of the living-room.

She fixes her clothes and hair, but she can’t help to smell the scent of *sex* all over her body… Nice as it is, she doubts her parents will be thrilled by it...
She enters the living room where Jordan has fallen asleep on the couch. The sight of Jordan Catalano all sleepy on the couch, after having sex with *her*, is something she wants to remember forever. He looks so sweet, so innocent. Quietly, she sits down next to him and kisses his eyelids. Jordan awakes and opens up one eye.

“Jordan? Will you take me home, please? I’m a little worried. You see, Rickie left me a note, saying that my mom is suspicious. So I guess I’d better get home fast, before she sends a search party after me…”




[The Chase’s house, Saturday afternoon]

Graham is preparing dinner in the kitchen, when the doorbell rings. He walks up to the door and opens it to find Brian. “Hey Brian.”

Brian seems anxious, “Mr Chase, I need to talk to someone, is it, like, okay if I talk to you?”

Graham swings the door open. “Sure Brian, come on in. What did you want to talk about?”

Brian’s voice sounds more like a whisper, “It’s kind of personal, you see…”

“Just follow me into the kitchen, we won’t be disturbed there.” Graham leads the way to the kitchen.

Brian seems edgy, “You know we had this talk, like, about wallpapers some time ago?”

“Yes, I remember…” Graham looks at Brian worried; that conversation was *very* vague, if he remembers correctly.

Brian begins his story, “Well, what if there’s like, this wallpaper you have actually never liked, but it’s still intriguing in a weird kind of way. And then there’s this other wallpaper you still like, you know, the expensive one you really, really want, but simply can’t afford. But the weirdly intriguing wallpaper is like, showing you pieces of itself you never knew it had, and it turns out that that wallpaper maybe isn’t so weird after all. And you can afford it, and better yet, it has like, spontaneously, clung to your wall, like for a brief moment. And then, just when you’ve like gotten to appreciate the wallpaper, it comes off, and disappears, denying it was ever *on* your wall. What does that mean, Mr Chase?”

Graham’s forehead is frowned, “Brian, as I said before, this *isn’t* about wallpapers, is it? But if you ask me, that weird wallpaper doesn’t quite know what it wants. It’s not reliable, so to speak. If you’re happy with wallpaper that visits your *walls* every now and then, there’s nothing wrong with it. But don’t expect the wallpaper to stay any longer, because I’m guessing, it won’t. Maybe it will not come back at *all*, it was like a one-night-wall-cling-thing.”

Brian is stunned, “Wow, it’s amazing that you actually like, got what I was talking about. So, you’re saying, I shouldn’t count on that wallpaper?”

Graham can’t help but smile at him, “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. Have fun with it, but don’t expect anything from it. And something tells me chasing *after* it won’t do you any good, because this wallpaper will only come and go when it *pleases*, not when *you* want it to. You see, it sounds like it *hates* being stuck on the same wall forever.”

Brian seems relieved, “Thanks, Mr Chase, for clearing that up. I’ll be going home now and well, think about some wallpaper…”

Graham’s curiosity is awakened now. “Brian? Does this girl have a name?”

Brian flushes and stutters, “Umm, no, no name, sorry.”

Graham smirks at him, “Good luck with her then. Don’t get *too* attached, you know?”

“I won’t. I hope. Though she keeps intriguing me…” He walks out of the kitchen absent-minded, towards the door. “I’ll let myself out, thanks again. Bye.”




Just a little while after Brian leaves, Angela walks in through the back-door, smiling, and greeting her father: “Hi, dad!” She kisses him on the cheek and tosses her bag on the table.

Graham smiles happily at her, “Hi, honey. So, how was it at Rayanne’s?”

Angela answers airily, “Oh, you know. Okay, I guess. The party wasn’t as *wild* as the other one, luckily.” She sits down at the kitchen table.

Patty walks in the kitchen. “Hi honey! I thought I heard you come in!” She walks over to her daughter and gives her a kiss on the fore-head. “So, how was the party?”

Angela answers cautiously, “Okay, I guess. Nothing *wild*, just fun, you know, hanging out together.”

Patty hesitates before she speaks, “You know… Amber called me last night.”

“Oh?” Angela doesn’t know if she should act surprised or not, and it’s kind of freaking her out.

Graham eyes his wife disturbed, “Patty, don’t…”

“Graham, you stay out of this. I want to know what happened last night, I have a *right* to know!” Patty looks at her husband furiously; he has no right to let Angela know they’re not united on this. She directs her face towards Angela again, somewhat calmer sounding. “Anyway, Rayanne wasn’t home yet, but she assured me that *you* were fine. I thought you and Rayanne were going home with Amber?”

“Yeah, we did, I mean, we were supposed to, but then Rickie invited Corey over, and Corey said he would bring us, so we let Amber go ahead, and went with Corey instead.” The nerves are kicking in, and Angela feels if she keeps on rambling that her mother just *maybe* won’t notice the missing pieces. Or maybe her mother *will*, because she is blabbing *too* much.   

Patty looks at Angela inquisitively, “So, what happened to Rayanne then? I don’t understand it, honey. You, Corey and Rickie went ahead?”

Angela tries to think of a reasonable explanation, “No, umm, yes, I mean. Yes, Corey brought Rickie and me to Amber’s already, while Rayanne stayed behind for a little while. You see, she met this guy, and she was, you know…”

Patty cocks both her eyebrows at Angela, “So you left Rayanne behind with some strange guy and went ahead to her house?”

Angela tries to stay calm, “Well, when you put it like *that*, it sounds kinda harsh. But, yeah, Rayanne knew the guy, and she *insisted* we leave her alone. She would get him to drive her home, later.”

“And you’re positive that you weren’t there with her? I don’t know, with, say, Jordan Catalano?” Patty eyes her eldest daughter closely for a reaction.

Angela raises her voice, “Yes, I’m positive I wasn’t there, with *Jordan Catalano*! He wasn’t even *there*, remember?”

Patty folds her arms in front of her chest. “Are you sure about that? Because we *saw* his car, and it’s not like his car is easily mistaken for someone else’s, that’s for sure.”

Angela flushes. “Okay, so he *was* there. What’s the big deal? It’s not like I *knew* he was coming anyway.” She puts a lock of hair behind her ear and continues calmer: “And yes, ofcourse we talked, for a little while. But I *swear* mom, that was it! I *didn’t* stay out there with Rayanne!” That part was actually *true*, so she wasn’t totally lying.

Patty is recapping the story Angela told her, “So, you’re saying that you *met* Jordan, talked for a while, and then you, Corey and Rickie went to Amber’s, and left Rayanne behind.”

Angela looks irritated, “Yes, mom. That’s what I’m saying.”

Patty continues, “So, what did you tell Amber when you got there?”

Angela’s eyes poke at her mom’s eyes, “The truth, that Rayanne like, met someone and was coming home a little later. But I guess, when it had been, like, a *while* and Rayanne *still* hadn’t come back, she got worried and called you.”

Patty walks around the kitchen, much resembling an advocate in a court-room, “But why would she call *me*, while *you guys* knew where Rayanne was hanging out?”

Angela is starting to freak out because of the interrogation, “Don’t ask *me* mother, Amber was, like, totally spacing. She had a few too many of those cocktails, I guess.” She tries to act nonchalant.

Patty’s face displays her mistrust, “You know, this whole story *still* doesn’t make any sense, at all.”

Graham interrupts his wife again, “Patty, *Amber* doesn’t make any sense, remember? Not ever!”

Patty ignores her husband’s remark, “I still don’t know what to make of it. Angela, I give you the benefit of the doubt this time, but *next* time I won’t be this tolerant, I tell you! I won’t let you turn into some Rayanne, hanging around with strange guys at late hours.”

Angela is confused, “First you tell me to make up to her, and *now* you’re telling me you don’t want me to hang out with her?! You know, I just don’t get you!” She’s yelling with disbelief.

Patty raises her voice, “Becoming her *friend* again has *nothing* to do with becoming *her*!”

Angela is really pissed now, “And *this* coming from the mouth of someone who used to be a friend-betraying Rayanne herself…?! That’s just freaking *great*!” She gets up and walks out of the kitchen angrily.

Patty shouts after her, “I am your *mother*! Don’t speak to me like that!”  She collapses on a chair, her hand supporting her head. “Oh God, I sound just like my *own* mother. I tried so hard to prevent this, and now it’s inevitable: I have become the *one* thing I had sworn I would *never* become.”