"Have you seen my lip gloss, Celeste?" Jessa asked irritated, rummaging through her cosmetics spilled over the hotel's white bathroom counter, the sea green wall paper a nice contrast with the light yellow and white border hugging the floor and ceiling.

"No," Celeste responded, lounging on one of the floral print double bed loosely and restlessly, her face ironic toward the brilliantly bright sun seeping into their hotel room from the open window, weightless sea wind rustling through heavy green curtains, the curtains waltzing in the air, her face twisted in pain as her eyes bored at videos flashing across MTV without sight, not seeing anything through the anguish constantly blanketing her vision.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Ashley asked concerned, grappling through her pink adidas backpack for her khaki bucket hat. "You never pass up window shopping."

"Considering I feel like crying every time I attempt to put pressure on my ankle," Celeste began, briefly glancing down at her purple and green-spotted ankle puffed up like a balloon, it clobbered with ice packs, "I doubt a trip along Melrose Place is in order." They offered to take her to the hospital, but they all silently decided that was a bad idea; hospitals + paperwork + phone calls = ruined summer, maybe even lives. Rest and ice is all her wound required.

"We can take the RV," Jessa offered from the bathroom, smudging sparkily blue eye glitter over her eyelids with her pinky finger.

"I really should rest," Celeste desisted, pouting inside that she couldn't shop the hottest strip in the US the only time she'd in the same state, let alone a 15 minute walking distance from. Her eyes darted about the room in a semi-frightened and concerned manner, "Where's Taryn?"

"Hanging with the boys before they head off to practice," Jessa informed her, briskly walking from the bathroom to her black Polo Sport pocketbook ruffled and wrinkled like a bag of potatoes on the dresser.

"Figures," Celeste gruffed, throwing her arms across the chest of her white Gap baby Tee. They haven't engaged in conversation for more than a few seconds since the verbal attack concluded the other day. "At least she's not here to grill me about my ankle."

"Well," Ashley began, pondering to herself as she slowly smothered her blonde hair underneath her hat. "You did slip in a puddle while running."

"In the rain," Jessa added with an amused snicker, giving her hair one last look in the overhang mirror placed above the dresser before her, Taryn, and Ashley headed into the Californian sun.

"I told you all like a thousand times that it's theraputic," Celeste wailed, slamming her fists on the bed, it's feather-like quality cushioning her agression, her curls flying foward.

"We know, we know," Jessa responded soothingly, not enjoying Celeste's irritable behavior as a repercussion of her fall, Celeste rolling onto her left side away from her friends in an attempt at isolation. "You know...Chris is couped up in his room by himself today, he's sick...maybe you could hang out with him, give him a chance..."

"And maybe worms will grow ears," Celeste muffled into the pillow, that very thought immediately dismissed from her brain.

"Just a suggestion," Ashley reminded her as Jessa took her arm and lead her toward the door. "We'll pick something up for you..."

"Yeah, Yeah," Celeste's voice banged against the swift slam of the door.........

"This lemonade is delish!" Taryn exclaimed giddily, her eyes wide as the liquid tangoed and tweeked around her mouth in a sour rush of flavor. The 3 friends strolled nonchalantly down Rodeo Drive like they were the top of the class and this route was a ritual routine, a route and street infamous for pricey fashions and hot cars, the store displays perfectly aligned and situated, trying to grapple for customer's attentions and wallets. The sun lead the way through the quick-coming murky yet humid day like a giant lightbulb over grease spots and tiny cracks on the bashe sidewalk. "I've never tasted anything like it."

"It's a little odd that you're tickled about lemonade," Jessa responded with suspision, her hands clinging tightly onto her pink Steve Madden bag containing her newly purchased rainbow wedge sandals.

"I wish you'd talk to Celeste," Ashley responded dismally, tucking her hands into her khaki capris, the little hair that poked down from her hat twisting in the breeze, "Everything is so tense between you two."

"I'm not the one who wished she would die," Taryn bickered to Ashley as she chucked her cup into a green trash can beside her, anger and sorrow glinting in Taryn's hard, disspassionate eyes, Ashley instantly regretting bringing the topic up.

"She didn't mean it like that, Taryn," Jessa differed, motioning for them to come with her into Banana Republic. If Taryn wasn't in such a bubbling rage, she would have stubbornly waited outside for her "preppy" friends and gazed upon the BMWs and PT Cruisers hugging the sidewalks like toy models, shiny and perfect. "And you know it."

"Why doesn't she apologiese, then?" Taryn retored, her eyes finally noticing the brigade of checkered summer shirts and short shorts fastened to the light blue wall circling her, a shudder of disguist tremoring through her body as her feet carefully weaved closely with her friends through the store, the cherrywood floor glistening with fresh wax and the thousands of dollars they receive a day.

"Would you accept an apology?" Jessa asked Taryn as her hands and eyes fumbled along the material of a lavendar polo shirt, her mouth a tight frown awaiting an answer, Taryn stoic as she stood there in the midst of sunglasses and sandals. "That's what I thought."

"That shirt surely covers way too much for you, Jessa," Taryn informed her lightly, striding to her side like a fashion consultant, a wry smile slipping on her face. "How can you attract attention in this?"

"What are you insinuating?" Jessa responded with equal weightlessness with a roll of her eyes, shuffling to the next rack composed of tank tops. Jessa has developed a strong anti-body from Taryn's viruses of words, unequipped hosts easily deteriorated and broken down from Taryn, Jessa's sheild well built-up, resilient and inpenetrable. Jessa's hand rubbed a light green cotton tank top, the cotton as soft as feathers.

"Don't start this," Ashley begged quietly, her voice tumbling on the edge of tears, dismissing herself from another detrimental show of attempted insult, pacing slowly to the back where leather and platform sandals stood orderly on two racks.

Taryn and Jessa both swivled toward Ashley, their stomachs kicked in and hearts regretting what just went on. "I'm sorry, Ash," Jessa apologiesed heartfeltly, jogging quickly to her and tying her arms around Ashley's neck. Jessa realized how much that went on this summer has inflicted Ashley, the innocent bystander, powerless against stopping those forces unless tears crystallized in her eyes.

"Me too," Taryn gruffed, never ready to admit when she's wrong but willing to if it would alleviate Ashley's pain, strolling over with a simulance of a smile, Ashley peering up at her with relieved eyes.

"I think these sandals would look so cute on you," Jessa exclaimed, trying to brighten the downfall they slipped in, a pair of Thong Espadrilles grabbing her attention, their flat soles, pure white coloration, and comfortable padding an impeccable shoe for casual Ashley.

"Wow," Ashley dreamed, her eyes enlarged as she took a 6 and 1/2 from one of the many white boxes tiled underneath the display and slipped them on, her smile augmenting as she took a few steps with them on, feeling as if she was walking on heavenly clouds. Her eyes scowered the box for a price and her mouth dropped. "I can't afford these," she told her friends, her face disheartened as she gently pulled the sandal off her foot.

"Let me help you pay for them," Jessa insisted, reaching down for the box, "An early birthday gift."

Ashley's eyes leaped about her socket joyously, before rolling back as she plummeted to the floor like an apple from a tree, landing with a hard thump. "Ashley!" Taryn shouted, dropping to her side as Ashley's eyes twittered opened. "Are you alright?"

"What happened?" Jessa asked, her face like a mother's, strickened with concern as she helped Ashley to her feet.

"My eyes...got blurry and..." Ashley began, her voice sounding fresh like from a deep sleep, Jessa rubbing Ashley's arm as Taryn peered at her a little shaken by her sudden fall, "I got this...sharp pain in my kidneys and I...fell..." Taryn, Ashley, and Jessa all switched glances of fear and great concern, hoping this wasn't a sign that Ashley's condition was worsening......

Celeste couldn't stand watching "Full House" re-runs anymore in the company of only herself. Tossing the remote to the opposite bed, her mind started to think of a strange possibility to release her of boredom and anxiety constricting her sanity, going to hang with Chris. As much as she hated Chris, she would become a sponge if she didn't get a little exercise and interaction, even if it was with a vile person of Chris's nature, even if the pain hammering on her ankle like a thousand rocks was excrusiating to the touch of anything, even a cool swipe of air. Slowly, her feet reached the floor, Celeste immediately putting all her weight on her good left ankle. Limping and cowering, tears wedging in her eyes and sinking back down into her throat, she arrived at the door and proceeded toward Chris's room........

Chris layed in bed, his face pale, his spikes drooping, his throat raw with coughing convulsions, his head pounding so hard, he could feel his heart beat jumping from his chest into his skull, jamming between flesh and bone. The white walls encompassing him reminded him of a hospital room, desolate, depressing, and lonely. His room was identical to the girls'. He prayed Room Service would hurry up with his order he placed a half hour ago, a warm bowl of chicken soup. He heard a faint knock like a child's at the door and an eased smile warmed on his face, imagining the pleasing sensation of soup smoothing the edges of his jagged throat. With the bed's florat print comforter wrapped around him like a cocoon, he shuffled to the door and opened it, a frown pulling at his lips as he saw Celeste before him, a scant smile attempting to push through her affliction and hatred.

"I know you weren't what I ordered," Chris mumbled, leaning against the white wall as Celeste took a cautious, limped step in, her light eyes appearing to be ready to explode into tears.

"Listen," Celeste started, holding with all her strenght onto the brass doorknob so not to tumble to the maroon-carpeted floor and make an ass of herself, "I know we had a really bad start and I said things I shouldn't have said....well, you did things you shouldn't have done, but that's not the point and I want us to be decent to each other, if not friends and I regret my ignorance because you didn't know what happened in my past, a past I really wanted to forget and not tell anyone about which didn't work and everything is really depressing for me right know because my ankle is killing me beyond belief and I'm unbelievably bored because the girls left me alone...."

"Whoa," Chris interrupted her, shedding his comforter to the floor like a snake's skin, the tears streaming down her face pleading for him to stop her rambling. "Calm down." Chris cradeled her under his bulky arms as he escorted her to the bed, her purple flannel pajamas brushing against his bare legs and Snoopy boxers, her CK1 blissfully tickling cells within his nose. As Celeste brushed laggardly at her tears, not concerned with what a mess she looked like or what Chris thought about this episode, Chris excused himself to the bathroom to get her some water before she chokes on her upset. Like a father, he fell to one knee and handed her the glass of water, his itchy eyes gazing through her tears.

"Thank you," Celeste said almost inaudibly as she sipped the water, her eyes shut to fully enjoy the taste, her left hand clamped on her cheek as if to keep it fastened to her face. She glanced back down at him, his face soft with care as he stroked one last stagnant tear from her rosy cheek with a faint touch like an angel's, liquifying comfort into her veins. "You shouldn't be taking care of me," Celeste chucked lightly, dropping her arms to her sides, "You look like shit."

"Thanks for the brutal honesty," Chris laughed, taking her gently in his arms and laying her against the light yellow pillows, his aura rising above the pillow surrounding Celeste like a protector. He awkwardly stumbled across the room to Greg's bed and hopped on. He reached over to the tableside, grabbed the black remote and switched on the TV, "Full House" flickering on the screen like a nightmare. "You want to watch this?"

"Sure," Celeste called over to him, cautiously moving her ankle into a more comfortable position, no longer concerned about what was displayed on TV, as long as it directed her away from the fire crackling and burning in her ankle. A sudden chill rained down on Celeste like the room's temperature plunged into an artic atmosphere, her body shivering and teeth chattering like the chompers of old men.

"You cold?" Chris asked, jumping from the bed and to her side, goosebumps rising over her skin like pimples.

"Yeah," Celeste responded glumly, Chris's next action surprising her beyond belief. Chris climbed genially over her ankle and to her side, snuggling his body up against hers like a blanket, his arms cloaked over hers like a shield of armor. Celeste involuntarily jerked, peering up at him as if he was crazy, odviosuly not comfortable with Chris so close to her, but curious about where this could lead.

"Is this OK?" Chris asked hushly, his eyes simply beautiful and sparkly in the dim light, gazing down on her as if he was the moon and she the fair Juliet, casting her in a heavenly glow, Juliet sharing her deepest concerns and secrets with the night and the protector of the silent, still time of darkness, the moon.

After a few seconds, Celeste smiled softly, her eyes lowering into sophorific slits, "It's fine...just what I needed, actually........"

"She's gonna love the jacket we bought her," Jessa smiled with pride, holding the knee-lenght light corderoy jacket to her chest as they trampled down the hallway, the hallway decorated in pinstripe wallpaper and maroon carpeting and blue doors, all of them shut from visitors. "And what a bargain! $15 from that thrift store."

"I agree," Ashley responded, glancing down at the "Get Well" bear they just had to buy for Chris, it's button black nose and marble eyes shiny and snow white paws holding a red heart enscribed with "Get Well" too adorable to pass up.

"Let's drop off the bear first," Taryn suggested, averting their travels sharply to the right, her hand jiggling the knob of room 432, Chris and Greg's room. Expectently, the door was unlocked. They crept in soundless in consideration, the only thing in view were the legs of two individuals sprawled across the bed like strands of spagetti.

"Look like Chris is feeling better," Taryn laughed intrigued, the friends strolling closer to the bed.

"Look like Celeste won't need this jacket," Jessa surmised, the view quite shocking, but equally pleasent. "Chris is taking good care of keeping her warm." Chris and Celeste slumbered on the bed peacefully, wrapped in each other's arms and dreams. Chris's chin layed in the crook of Celeste's neck like the piece of a puzzle, their faces masked in contentness and blissful sleep. The image reminded the friends of how the late afternoon would be spent between siblings after a thrilling day at a park, resting, rejuvenating. A hand of Celeste's intertwined with Chris's at her stomach, the symbol almost lovingly. The three friends looked at the scene in awe, relieved that their sheared ties had been mended.

"If they can fix their problems," Ashley whispered, peering up at Taryn as if Ashley was the wise Yoda, "So can you two."