--Author's Notes--
Hi everyone!
This is an urgent and sincere plea for help!  I have hit an absolute 
rock bottom!!  If I go any longer without assistance I may as well
get married to my writer's block! Ok.  I left earth for a moment, 
but now I'm back again.  I do need help though.  Lots of it.  Please 
read and send all comments and constructive criticisms to me.  My 
story is alternate reality, set in Stanford where Serena is a junior 
and Darien, a senior.  I'm head over heels in love with their whole 
love-hate relationship so that's something like what the story's about.  
Anyway, read, and please write me.  My well is dry, I need ideas!     

Title:  A Winter Production
By: NovemberStars
Rating:  G~PG13
Email:  Sandy6827@aol.com
Standard Disclaimers Apply-believe me, if you could milk any money 
out of me, I would have done so long ago.  = ) Suing victims of abject
poverty will get you nowhere. One thing though, parts of the diction may sound like Crystal Heart's 
story, Masquerade.  I tend to write like the stories I read over and 
over again.

   	The slender blonde swung her legs over the side of her bed and 
stretched lazily.  She looked out her dorm window still not fully awake and 
yawned audibly into the phone, "Yeah Mina, I swear I'll be there this time." 
	"Well you better cuz we're not covering your butt again, ya 
hear? Madam Fury almost blew her head off when she found out I was 
pretending to be you!  I thought I'd never see the light of day again!  
You owe me big!"
 	Twenty-one year old Serena Hart grinned into the receiver at 
the comical recollection.  She had forgotten to go to dance rehearsal 
last week where they were supposed to be rehearsing for the winter 
production, the Nutcracker.  Serena was the lead role and naturally 
would have been noticed if she were absent.  Mina and the rest of the 
cast had tried to cover up for her by having Mina pretend to be Serena 
since they looked so much alike.  Mina, however, could not dance half 
as well as Serena and had been instantly discovered by their dance 
instructor whom they fondly nicknamed Madam Fury for her fiery temper.  
Madam Fury, true to her name had, as Mina said, "blew her head off."  
But despite everything, it had turned out to be a hilarious rehearsal.  
Even Madam Fury had been caught chuckling at the end.  
	Serena shifted the phone into the crook of her neck, tucking it
between her shoulder and the side of her head and bent down to pull on 
her socks. "I'm sorry!  I'd say it a million times over!  But it's not 
my fault you look so much like me!"  
	"And it's not my fault that I'm your sister," grumbled Mina good-naturedly.
	Serena laughed, "I always knew there would be a reward to 
putting up with you for all those years."  She looked at the moon-shaped
clock sitting on her bedside table and stood up.  "Sorry to cut this 
short, but I gotta go now.  I'm going running with Josh and I haven't 
even gotten fully dressed yet."  
	Josh was her current boyfriend. He had short brown hair and 
adorable green eyes.  He was smart, easy-going, friendly, sweet, and 
overall a pretty cute looking guy.  He was just about all a girl could 
ask for in a boyfriend.  He and Serena were close friends.  'Friends.'  
The word echoed in Serena's mind.  She had learned to restrain herself 
from romantic fantasies over the years but was still very much a true 
romantic at heart.  She had always thought a boyfriend was supposed to 
sweep his girlfriend off her feet, leaving her speechless with admiration.
The girl was supposed to be dancing on clouds whenever she was with him. 
But this was not the case with Josh.  They were just what they acted like.
Friends, good friends, chums if you will.  But no matter how hard she 
tried, her heart would adamantly beat on refusing to miss even half a 
beat for him.  The only person her heart did start beating hard for 
was HIM.  And it wasn't in a good way either.  It confused her.  HE 
had never failed to have that effect on her, and it annoyed her 
desperately. 
      	"Ooooh…Josh," Mina's teasing voice broke into her thoughts, 
"You've been spending an awful lot of time with him lately.  When do 
you think he's gonna pop the question?"
	Serena groaned and plopped back down onto the bed, she had no 
idea why this subject always made her feel so irritated, "Mina!  You're 
just as bad as mom!  He's only a boyfriend.  Nothing serious.  Besides, 
I'm not planning on getting married right now anyway.  But speaking of
boyfriends, how's Andrew doing?" 
	Serena smiled.  Andrew was Mina's boyfriend.  Now there was 
a couple obviously tailored and specially made for each other.  Mina's 
bones seemed to have the stunning ability to transform into cartilage 
even when he was at the border of satellite range.  It seemed as if the 
two had permanently taken up residence in cloud nine whenever they were
together.  Andrew was also HIS best friend.  Serena couldn't understand.  
Why would such a nice person like Andrew want to be friends with HIM?  
Serena rubbed her temples and closed her eyes to clear her thoughts.  
'Why does every day have to start with unpleasant thoughts?'  Her 
confused expression faded and was soon replaced with another knowing 
smile.  She could practically hear Mina blushing over the phone.  
	"Uhhh...we're too young to get married.  I'm only 19!" 
	"I never said anything about you getting married," she teased. 
"Never mind.  I gotta get ready so I'll let you off the hook this time."
	"Ok, but don't forget to come to rehearsal today!  Six o'clock, sharp!"
	"I'll be there, I promise!" 
     	"K, bye then!"
	"Bye." She moved to hang up the phone, and slowed as a 
thoughtful expression came over her face.  She had a busy day ahead 
of her.  It was her junior year as a law student at Stanford. She had 
started her junior year with a bang.  She was the elected treasurer of 
the student body, captain of the debate team, and to top it all off, 
star of the winter production.  Besides all this, she was also the most
coveted girl on campus.  Though she and Josh, also a law student on 
his junior year at Stanford, had been going out for almost a year Josh 
still received looks of envy whenever they were seen walking together.  
Every guy wanted to have the blond-haired, blue-eyed goddess for 
themselves. The girl had everything.  At least that's what everyonethought.  
	Serena didn't feel like she had everything.  And no, it wasn't 
the whole you-never-know-what-you-had-until-you-lost-it deal either.  
If anything, she actually envied the image everyone on campus had 
construed as her.  Despite everything, she felt surprisingly empty.  
A kind of hollow emptiness.  Like something that should have been their
wasn't.  Like all her glamour and success were just academic and 
desperate attempts to fill this void.  Sometimes she felt she was 
wallowing deeper and deeper in a downward spiral, its destination, an 
abyss of loneliness.  As if if the beauty and everything else were to be
peeled away, all that would be left would be her naked, vulnerable 
soul.  In her mind, she saw images of couples in love, holding hands, 
laughing, relishing in each other's affections.  She felt so alone.  
She knew she shouldn't have felt like this.  After all, she had Josh.
Sometimes she couldn't help thinking that if she still felt this way 
even while she had Josh, maybe she was fated to forever solitude.  That 
maybe this gnawing she felt was destined to be her only life long companion.  
	The silence of the room was food to the hole in her soul.  It 
burned deeper and deeper until she felt she would be swallowed into 
nothingness.  She strode purposefully towards the wall on her right 
and threw open the window forcefully.  She leaned out and closed her 
eyes.  She could smell the normal bustle of the Christmas spirit all 
complementary with a gust of frosty, nose nipping wind as it came 
blasting through the window.  Her eyes flew open in shock.  She felt 
awake again.  The hole was quickly covered and buried in a blink of 
an eye.  She left the window open.  
	She turned around to face the dorm, shaking the funny feeling 
off while surveying the room.  Light poured in from the window 
revealing a floor littered with clothes, dance costumes, and shoes.  
Her desk at the corner of the room was drowned in books, writing 
utensils, and papers.  The drawers of her dresser were overloaded 
with clothes spilling over the sides.  The top of the dresser was 
adorned with scattered money, pictures of friends and family, and all 
sorts of other miscellaneous junk.  She looked over at her roommate's 
side of the room.  'Hmm…' she thought, 'not much better.'  She smiled 
wryly, shaking her head.  They needed a maid.  She had never been much 
of a neat freak and now with school activities starting up again there 
was no way she was going to lose sleep over a messy room.  
	Serena glanced at the clock again.  It was 8:50.  She was 
supposed to meet Josh in the park at 9:00.  She threw on a hooded gray
Stanford sweatshirt with matching sweat pants and running shoes and 
headed into the bathroom.  The bathroom was just as hopelessly cluttered 
as the bedroom had been.  Oh well.  It was just as good.  It was 
easier to find things this way.  If everything were "cleaned up" 
in drawers and cupboards it would probably take her hours to find 
the stuff that she needed.  After performing all the morning tasks 
she hastily pulled her shoulder-length hair into a messy ponytail.  
She stepped out of the dorm and locked the door, heading for the park 
with five minutes to spare.  She hadn't bothered looking in the mirror.  
It didn't matter.  She was just going running, and besides, it wasn't 
as if she had to look good for anyone right now anyway, it was just Josh.
	She walked through the Stanford courtyard, smiling at 
familiar faces and waving to friends, completely oblivious to the 
looks of admiration people were giving her.  Though she didn't know 
it, she was beautiful.  She stood at a height of 5'10".  Her gold 
hair that was pulled up in a rather careless ponytail now usually 
fell down to her shoulders, bouncy and slightly straight, curling at 
the ends to her neck. She took the short haircut out of the fact that 
it required little maintenance, and not because it was stylish, she 
didn't even notice how good it made her look. She was never the type 
to spend hours preening in front of a mirror.  She never really paid 
much attention to her looks except on special occasions.  Nobody but 
her friends knew that she never wore makeup unless she was forced to.  
She walked with an air of natural grace and dignity that radiated 
confidence and sophistication.  It was a wonder how she managed to 
pull off looking sophisticated for she almost always wore what she 
called her "comfortable clothes." The Stanford secretary was famed for 
her dresser full of sweatshirts and jeans.  She liked wearing dresses
 and figure-flattering clothes now and then but never felt there was 
a need to flaunt.  Her baggy apparel however did nothing to hide her 
trim figure and graceful curves.  Her perceptive blue eyes were 
friendly, never seeming to miss a thing around them, always laughing, 
and most of all, genuinely sincere.  Her soft skin was a creamy color 
covered with a rosy glow and still had hints of the tan she had gotten 
from summer sports.   
	Her brisk walk soon broke into a jog.  She hated being late.  
She had had enough of being late when she was in high school.  She had
changed a lot over the last three years.  She was a real stickler for 
work.  There would be times where she would plunge herself so deep in 
school activities and volunteering work that it would be days before 
she submerged again and returned to the world around her.  But no matter 
how hard she worked, she never forgot to party.  She had attended many 
of the social events and balls at Stanford and always managed to find 
time to set aside for hanging out with her friends.  
	She was nearing the park.  She looked thoughtful now, flipping 
through her mental planner reviewing her schedule for the day.  After 
running she would shower.  Then she had class from 11 to 12:30.  She 
would take lunch at one and go to the student government meeting at 
three.  They were discussing the upcoming winter ball that would precede 
the winter production.  She wasn't looking forward to the meeting.
	"Hey meatball head!"  She stopped.  The mental planner 
stopped mid flip.  She didn't need to turn around to figure out who 
it was.  Only HE called her 'meatball head.' 
	Something flashed in her eyes. All traces of previous cheerfulness and 
friendliness had evaporated and were replaced with a cool 
reserved air.  She frowned inwardly as she began to feel a little out 
of breath.  He had done it again.  It puzzled her.  No matter how 
many times or how prepared she was to see him he always unknowingly 
managed to surprise her, making her breathe abnormally fast, and feel 
a little light in the head.  She had only heard his voice and already 
she could almost hear her heart beating at an alarming rate, she was 
panicking inside.  Her outer appearance however remained calm and cool.  
She would not give in.  With her back still to him with a patience and 
calmness that she certainly did not feel, "Really Darien.  I would have 
thought that after all these years you would have managed to remember 
my name by now.  And so it turns out that besides having an ego problem, 
our dear doctor is suffering from a learning dysfunction as well."  
Then with all the sweetness of saccharine sugar itself, "Very well, 
let's try it again.  It's SERENA."  
	Having finished her customary introductory insults, she turned 
around slowly to face him.  She had been expecting for him to be there, 
in fact, she had known he was going to be there, but nevertheless felt 
her legs go weak as she raised her eyes to meet the startlingly 
penetrating blue stare of Darien Calloway.  
	This was HIM.  He was leaning on a pillar in a nearby walkway.  
This was the guy she couldn't seem to keep her mind off of.  Darien 
Calloway was the unanimously elected class president of the Stanford 
student body.  He was a senior pre-med student, the top of his class.  
He was a swimmer and a soccer player and was rumored to be an awesome 
actor.  He was also hot…HOT TO DIE FOR.  The guy was 6'3", had a 
stunning build, and was a major heartthrob.  Under his mug shot, the 
yearbook had dubbed him "our senior prez, the hottest guy at Stanford." 
His black hair was never tainted by gel or any sort of disgusting hair
product but was usually as it was now, handsomely falling about his eyes, 
and framing his determined forehead.  The darkness and thickness of his 
hair emphasized glowing, sharp blue eyes that almost all the girls at 
Stanford had dreamt about.  Girls filled the stands during swim meets 
and soccer games just to watch him take off his shirt before a race or 
reveal his quick reflexes while scoring goals.  Girls loved him and guys
revered him as a god.  Everyone claimed he was friendly, hilariously 
funny, and extremely suave.  Serena on the other hand couldn't see what
everybody else saw in him. All she saw was a teasing, annoying, and 
stubborn burden in her life.  They saw each other frequently.  More 
than she would have liked. They always saw each other at student 
government meetings and social events.  Besides that, they had a funny 
way of always bumping into each other.  It was like they were magnets or
something.  They drove each other crazy. 
	They had met two years ago.  She had been a freshman and he a
sophomore.  She had been forlorn, lost, and confused in the midst of 
the 'first day of school' chaos at Stanford and had accidentally walked 
into the path of the then, already notorious Darien Calloway.  It 
almost seemed as if the two were always pulled by a magnetic force even from 
the very beginning.  They had collided and she had dropped the books that 
she'd been carrying and was crouching down to pick them up, all the 
while apologizing profusely.  
	"Oh, I'm so sorry.  I wasn't watching where I was going and,"
 	"A little klutzy today huh, meatball head?"  At the time her hair 
was still worn them in twin buns on the top of her head with the
complementary streamers trailing down to her ankles.  'Meatball head' 
had been her much hated nickname from childhood.  She had hoped that 
college would be different.  Apparently not.  She snapped her head up 
to glare at the person and found herself face to face with the hottest 
guy she had ever seen.  
	Darien made an uncharacteristic pause, though noticeable only 
to himself.  He was at a temporary loss of words.  He had never before 
seen a pair of eyes so bright and full of life.  He recovered quickly, 
she was probably no different from the rest of the girls around here.  
Yet something tugged at his heart that made him not quite so sure.  
	"It's SERENA.  Name-calling stopped in elementary school.  Hm."  
She frowned thoughtfully, "Stanford's introductory pamphlet did not 
mention any immature, egotistical snobs."  Serena surprised herself.  
She usually wasn't this jumpy about things.  There was something about 
this guy that made her seem kind of unlike herself, kind of like, But 
those were stupid thoughts.  She stopped them.  Another one of her 
romantic fantasies.  The thoughts were instantly banished.  Despite her
rather confused thoughts Serena kept glaring at the guy smirking before 
her.  His piercing blue eyes seemed to be able to see right into her 
mind.  Nobody had made her feel like this before.  
	This girl was different.  She had fire.  Usually girls never 
talked back to him.  Ever since he had hit the age of twelve Darien had 
come to believe that girls were shallow creatures who cared of nothing but
their looks and chattering about mindless things.  Sure, he joked around 
with them, in fact he was actually friends with some of them, the more
sensible ones at least, but that was it.  He never gave them a second
thought.  But this girl in front of him…she was not like the other ones.  
He had only just met her and already she was making a deep impression in 
his mind.  After all, no girl had ever stunned him speechless before.  
He looked at her with teasing eyes and put on a taunting smile.  "Nor 
did it mention the presence of any quick-mouthed meatball heads.  
Looks like we've just made ourselves the new features at Stanford.  
I have to go now.  Nice meeting ya, Meatball head." She had attracted 
more attention from him than he was willing to give.  He walked away 
smoothly never turning back once.  He was determined she would not get 
the better of him.  Serena had watched him walk off with anger burning 
in her eyes.  And thus the enemies had been established. 
	Now it was two years later.  They were both well known 
throughout the school for their outgoing personalities and outstanding
performances in school. However, it was known that Darien Calloway 
and Serena Hart could not meet without fighting and making a scene.  
They were nicknamed throughout campus as the 'Calloway-Hart duel.'  
The electricity between the two was evident to all but themselves, 
but whether the electricity was good or bad had yet to be determined.
Everybody thought the two were an equal match, in mind and looks.  
Serena was no longer a forlorn freshman but the vivacious, witty, 
and classy belle of the school.  She had developed an aura of her own, 
almost equal to Darien's.  Otherwise, things had barely even changed.  
They were still at each other's throats.  	
	Ah, yes, there it was, her usual denial to her much deserved 
nickname.  He grinned.  It was the grin that had managed to befall the 
entire female population at his feet, but also the one that he knew 
very well infuriated her so.  His eyes glittered mischievously.  
The ritual had begun yet once again.  "That's alright, Meatball head, 
don't bother.  Patience has never been your virtue.  I hope the thinking
didn't hurt."  He couldn't resist.  He liked to peeve her. He could 
never seem to stop teasing her.   He enjoyed their bantering.  
Over the years he had come to know Serena better. The girl had 
spirit.  Lots of it.  She was definitely smart, there was no doubt 
in his mind about that.  There was something about her attitude that 
bit him.  No matter how hard he tried she simply refused to blend in 
with the crowd.  It set her apart from the others.  In a good way 
though.  He had to admit there was something about the way she 
conducted herself, something about her pride and character that made her 
slightly admirable.  
	He looked at the image before him.  The late November wind 
was blowing hard.  Strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and 
were now curled demurely to her soft face wavering slightly to the 
course of the wind.  Her light blue eyes were glowering defiantly at 
him but her mouth had curved into a smile.  It was a kissable mouth but 
an icy smile.
    	"No," she could keep her cool, if anything, the courts of 
law had taught her to have a quick mouth, verbal battles were her 
pro. "No need to worry about me, doctor," she continued smoothly,
 "Wouldn't want to have you trying to fix my headache for me now 
would I?  Besides, past experiences have shown you might not even 
have the mental capacity for it."  
	He only chuckled.  Serena wasn't sure how much longer she 
could stand it.  He just HAD to look intimidating didn't he?  He 
stood leaning against the pillar, his hands slung casually in his 
pockets, not even seeming to be affected by the wind that whipped 
about him.  He looked so in control, as if he could dismiss the 
world with a wave of his hand.  He was looking over at her with 
those teasing blue eyes of his with a hint of amusement in them.  
It was a look he saved specially for her.  He was all that, and he knew it.
	"Mental capacity?" He looked thoroughly amused, "Meatballs 
don't have much mental capacity either, I'm afraid," then before 
she had a chance for a rebuttal he cut her off, "But unfortunately, 
this interesting and delightful discussion will have to wait for 
another day, I didn't come to discuss this.  I stopped you just to 
tell you that the student government meeting has been rescheduled to 
four, the meeting is still mandatory."
	"Thank you Mr. President," she bit back, all of a sudden a 
picture of complete regality, "Message delivered, mission accomplished.  
You may leave assured that you have done your duty.  Now if you'll 
excuse me, I have to meet Josh."  'When all else fails, use Josh as 
refuge.'  She frowned.  This wasn't how you were supposed to think of 
your boyfriend was it? 
	Darien felt a familiar twinge in his heart and resisted the
urge to wince.  He was expecting it. It seemed as if every time Josh's 
name was mentioned that funny feeling would come.  He had no idea why.  
It was ridiculous.  He shrugged it off.  Probably nothing.  "Princess, 
my apologies for detaining you," two could play at this game. 
"Tell Josh I said hi.  Poor guy.  It's a wonder that he's still sane."
	"You're the one to talk." refusing to acknowledge the sarcastic,
mocking title, "I'm surprised you haven't driven Jessie out of her 
mind yet."  'That is, if she had a mind to begin with,' she 
completed under her breath. 	"No, Princess, that privilege is yours alone." 
	"Oh?" She tilted her head doubtfully and gave a thoughtful, 
"hm." Furiously beating heart, embarrassingly flushed face, 
rubbery legs,yup, that was her cue to go.  How could one person inflict 
so many contradictions in her?  Refusing to say more, she gave him 
another frosty smile flashing her perfect white teeth in the process, 
turned her back to him and walked away.  He raised an eyebrow in 
amusement.  'Bewitching.'
	Now to discuss the subject of "Jessie." She was Darien's 
girlfriend.  Yes, much to the dismay of the Stanford girls, Darien 
Calloway had a girlfriend.  Jessie was a tender subject to Darien, 
well girlfriends in general to be exact.  Ah, yes, dear readers.  
Darien, like Serena is not always what he seems.  The handsome, 
masculine features are not always set in roguishly, mischeivous 
demeanor. For all of his life Darien had stayed away from having 
any "more than friends" relationships with girls.  It wasn't that 
he was decided against girls or anything, it was just that he was
waiting. He had always believed strongly in true love and that it 
would find him some day.  But when it was his senior year in college 
it seemed to him that Cupid was taking his time and he began to think 
that maybe it was him that had to find the love instead of the other 
way around.  	Though unknown to everybody else Darien had asked Jessie out 
only for the purpose of finding out if there were more to girls than 
makeup and mirrors and perhaps to keep all the other starry-eyed girls 
off his back.  (AN:  Ok, I know that wasn't very nice.   So sue him 
for doing that.  But who in the right mind would turn down the chance 
of  killing two birds with one stone.)   Jessie was short for Jessica.  
Jessica Angeculli. She was a nice girl.  Nice, but shallow. Her father
 was rich and had as many connections as Zeus had thunderbolts, which 
certainly explained her out of place enrollment in Stanford. She giggled 
more than she talked and spent most of her time twirling her long, 
gel-glossed locks of curly brown hair around her fingers.  Her 
blue-green eyes were obviously under the influence of colored 
contacts and that year long tan of hers couldn't possibly be natural.  
She was ok, he supposed.  He had waited all through high school 
and half of college for the perfect girl to come along.  When he 
really thought about it nobody really stood out in his mind except Serena.  
	He watched her retreating figure weaving through the 
dispersing crowd of people that had gathered to watch the two 
shoot insults at each other.  Everybody seemed to find their affairs 
extremely interesting. 'Meatball head', she gave him the weirdest 
feelings.  But it didn't matter, they could never seem to stop 
bickering.  He smiled, 'she and I would never have it any other way.'
	'Jessie…' Serena could still remember the day.  She had been 
in the library with her long time friend Amy Richardson.  The two of 
them joked that they had practically spent half their lives in that 
library.  Amy was a med student.  She was studying to be a surgeon.  
A prestigious one at that.  She had been doing research for her 
upcoming lab.  She was sitting opposite Serena in their usual spot 
next to the bay window in the library.  Her slim body sitting straight 
and erect with perfect posture, her trademark shortly cropped blue 
hair pulled away from her face in a ponytail.  Well as much of a 
ponytail as could be made with Amy's short hair.  Her thin black 
framed glasses were perched lightly on the bridge of her nose and her 
cheery blue eyes concentrated on the book before her with studious 
intensity.  Serena herself on the other hand had been collecting 
information for her next "case."  She was hunched down over her books 
and papers furiously scribbling incomprehensible notes that only she 
could make out on her yellow notepad.  
	After what would seem like an eternity to somebody other than 
the two Serena looked up from her work, shifted her gaze towards Amy, 
then towards the window.  Amy seemed to not have even moved a muscle 
since they last sat down, but the scene outside the window, however, 
had turned from day, to night.  Satisfied with the day's work Serena 
closed her book and chuckled, "Amy, tell me your secret.  How do you 
do it?  How do you study so hard and never get tired?"
	Amy looked up, finally coming out of her little world of 
amniocentesis and all sorts of other surgical stuff unknown to 
normal people,  "Huh?" was the blank reply.  
	Smiling, Serena stood up and stretched, "Oh Ames, what would 
I ever do without you?" Then, "Never mind, it was nothing important."  
She relaxed from the stretch, letting out a long breath in the process, 
"I'm beat, I think I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee from the café, 
you wanna come?"  The café was located a conveniently short distance 
away from the library, it was like a second home to Serena.  
	"I can't," replied Amy finally shutting her book.  She took 
off her glasses and stood up, "I have to go, Greg's picking me up.  
We're seeing a movie."  The last part had brought a faint blush to her face.  
	"Ha!  See!  I KNEW he liked you!"  Amy's blush deepened.  
'Funny how I never blush when people talk about Josh and me.' Pushing 
the thought aside Serena laughed, "I am so good at this matchmakingbusiness!"
	At that comment Amy's blush subsided and turned into a grin.  
"Yeah, well how about that disaster with Raye and Chad?  That didn't 
turn out so great, did it?"
	Now it was Serena's turn to blush.  Chad being the 
"California surfer dude" that he was had forgotten about his date 
with Raye.  The date which Serena had gone through pains to set up, 
but had assured Raye hadn't been her idea.  Raye had gone into a 
manic fury when she found out what had actually happened.  "Well, I 
guess it's not exactly resume material, but at least they're together 
now, right?  It still worked…sort of…in a backfiring sort of way."  
She looked towards the clock, the library was about to close.  She 
stacked her books and papers up and slid them into her bag, "Well, 
I'm off to the café, have fun on your date, God knows you need tons 
more of that."	"Yeah, look who's talking." 
	Serena slung her bag over her shoulder casually, gave Amy a 
pert look and turned away, responding with a dismissing wave of the 
hand.  Then something caught her eye.  Someone had left a copy of the 
school newspaper on an adjacent desk.  Serena stopped.  The headlines 
read:  "Darien Calloway, Bachelor No Longer."  Underneath was a picture 
of Darien with his arm encircled around a giggling Jessie 
Angeculli's waist.  'Her anorexic waist' 
	"Serena?  Something wrong?" She had caught Amy's attention 
with her abrupt halt.  She didn't know how long she had been staring 
at the paper.	"Oh, nothing really," She trailed off.  Amy looked from Serena 
to the picture with an odd look on her face but said nothing.  "I'll 
see ya later, Ames."  She strode off towards the café trying to 
shake the funny feeling off.  She had felt a pang but had decided 
it was just the result of shock.  She had a boyfriend.  It 
couldn't be jealousy.  She didn't even like Darien!
	That had been at the beginning of the school year.  Darien 
and Jessie were still going out now.  Serena shook her head.  
She didn't like Darien then, and she didn't like him now.  She 
revised her opinion, she couldn't STAND him now.  She looked up 
at the bell tower clock in the middle of the courtyard.  It was 
9:05.  She scowled.  She was late.
  	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	
It was her lunch hour.  She had just finished class and was now buried 
in her book reviewing the notes she had taken during class.  She 
was wearing a light blue sweatshirt with her favorite dark blue 
flared jeans.  She wore a thin silver necklace with a snowflake 
at the end and her hair was done in a simple french braid with 
small golden tendrils framing her face.  She was sitting on a stool 
at the counter of the café sipping mindlessly at her coffee, her 
attention directed solely towards the book.  
	"Here you go, your order."  Serena looked up and gave the 
waiter a brief smile of thanks, her blue eyes barely leaving the book.
  	The waiter looked at the gorgeous blonde who had already 
returned to her book  and shook his head.  He reached down, took the 
book away from her and slammed it shut. Serena looked up, startled, 
then smiled in recognition, "Andrew!"
	"Rena, what're we going to do with you?  I hereby ban you 
from touching another book for the rest of this week.  You're 
absolutely addicted!  I'm surprised you haven't O.D'd yet."
	Serena laughed, "Sorry Andrew, I don't think so.  I'd suffer 
from withdrawal."  Andrew was Mina's boyfriend.  He was a senior 
this year, a Stanford computer science student.  He worked in the café
sometimes just for fun.  He drew more customers.  He was a 6'1"
blonde-haired, blue-eyed hunk.  He and Darien were best friends.  
They were a lot alike.  The only difference to Serena was Andrew 
was a lot nicer and not half as annoying as Darien.  
	Andrew chuckled, "Well as recovery step number one, there's 
supposed to be a frat party at Delta tonight.  I'm going with Mina, 
you should come too."	"Yeah Rena, ya gotta go!  We're all going!"  Both Andrew 
and Serena turned around to see a tall brunette in a white shirt 
and green vest walking their way.
	"Hey Lita!" they greeted.  Lita Anderson was Serena's 
roommate.  The owner of the other half of the mess in the dorm room.  
She and Serena had become close friends over the last two years.  
Lita was two inches taller than Serena.  She had sparkling brown eyes 
and a knack for cooking.
	Serena smiled warmly at her roommate, "Where were you 
this morning?  I dug through all the clothes on your bed and 
couldn't find you.  I didn't get to eat one of your delicious 
breakfasts this morning!"
	Lita rolled her eyes, "My cooking class got rescheduled.  
Tomorrow, remind me to kill my advisor for putting me in such an early class."
	"I'll do it, I'll be your accomplice," Andrew volunteered.  
"Serena can be our defense attorney." 
	"Naw, we won't need an attorney.  We won't get caught," 
Lita gave them a devious grin then sobered up.  "But seriously 
Rena, you should come to the party tonight.  It's supposed to 
be wild.  You missed the last one and besides, even Amy agreed 
to go.  You gotta come." 
	Serena hesitated.  It had been a while since her last party, 
and she did need a little fun, "Well, can't get shown down by Ames 
now, can I?  I'll drop by after dance rehearsal."  She smiled, 
then sighed with feigned exasperation as Andrew and Lita went off 
on their victory cheer.   
	The three continued to chat until Andrew had to go back 
to work and Serena had to leave for her student government meeting.  
She shuddered.  'the student government meeting.'
    	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	"You WHAT!?"  Serena's face was flushed red with anger.  
How DARE he!  The rest of the student government sighed and sank 
back in their chairs.  There they go again.  Never could they have 
a meeting without their president and treasurer at each other like 
cats and dogs.
  	Who in the WORLD did he think he was?! She was the 
TREASURER for Christ sakes! (AN: sorry for the use of the name, i'm 
currently agnostic.) How could he DO that without even 
consulting her first? A whole month of planning, of enduring hours 
and hours of meetings with that, that, PERSON, a whole LIFE of reason 
and self restraint, and he changes it all in two minutes, WITHOUT 
EVEN ASKING HER FIRST!?  Her string of self-control was unraveling 
rapidly, she was very, very close to losing her sanity.  But not yet.  
She clenched her fists until her knuckles were white and fought to 
keep here voice from trembling, "Darien, do you remember that there 
was a reason behind why we did the things that we did? I think in your
 extravagant planning you forgot a little insignificant factor.  
MONEY!  We're not gonna have enough money now.  Do you know what 
you've done!?  Our budget has almost doubled!"
	Darien ran his hand through his hair, a sign of uncertainty, 
but the confident look on his face never wavered.  He was sitting at 
the head of the long table looking at a writhingly furious Serena on 
the opposite end.  She was sitting upright in her chair with both 
hands pushing at the table.  'Hmm…the winter ball decoration 
discussion had definitely taken a wrong turn.'  "Listen, don't blow 
your meatballs off, the budget has not doubled.  Just increased a 
little.  If we're short a little money we can always use fundraisers.  
And besides, it's not like I made THAT big of a change."
	The NERVE of him.  Did he really not care about anything at 
all?  Did she really not matter anything to him at all?  How could 
he torment her so and not even give her a second thought?  How could 
he do this to her?  She couldn't understand why this made her so 
upset.  She bit her tongue and took a deep breath.  Count to ten. 
Count to ten, "guaranteed success" that's what the pamphlet had said, 
if you blew up and killed someone you would get your money back.  
She couldn't let him see how much this affected her. "Not that big
of a change?" her voice was quiet.  She was flicking a piece of 
imaginary lint off her shirt.  Darien was beginning to feel a little 
uneasy.  This was dangerous.  The heavenly sky blue eyes turned 
towards him, "Really?  If you don't call getting a new band, changing 
the theme of the ball, AND ordering different carpets a big change, 
then WHAT THE HE--(AN: fill in the blank here, it doesn't have to be 
profanity, you know) IS A BIG CHANGE!?"  His and the rest of the 
student government's eyes widened.  'Note to self: never mention 
meatballs in tight situations.'
	"Calm down Meatball head," 'oops, darn post-its', "it's cold 
outside, I'd like the roof to stay over my head, not ON it."
	1...2...3...4...5...6...SNAP!  Ohp!  There it went, that last 
strand of that darned self-control string.  Looked like she was gonna 
get her money back.  She looked at him.  There he sat, the perfect 
picture of nonchalance, effortlessly toying with her emotions.  She 
had already been fit to be tied, but now...now... 'ok buster, I tried.'
Everybody's eyes widened even more, if physically possible, as they 
saw their treasurer abandon her tense position on her chair and 
swiftly step up onto the large table and approach the stunned 
president at an agonizingly slow pace.  
	"Heh, heh," the cold laugh sent shivers up Darien's spine.  
"Oh Mr. President," the voice reminded him of sugar coated death. 
"By the time I'm through with you, you won't have a head to worry 
about."  The student government watched helplessly as their president 
cringed under the treasurer's wrathful blue stare.  One by one they 
slipped hastily but noiselessly out of the tension filled room.  
There was nothing they could do.  God help them if one of them 
stepped between the two. 
	Darien ran his hand through his hair again, he seemed to 
be doing that a lot lately.  Never had he ever felt so out of control 
in his entire life.  He didn't get her, or why he his natural talent
to smooth situations such as these over always seemed to abandon 
him when she was around, leaving him surprisingly speechless and 
clueless as to what he was supposed to do. Maybe it was because she 
had always had a bewitchingly charming air to her herself, or 
maybe it was because he had never really shown that side of him to 
her before, but Serena had always been particularly immune to his 
usual dash-and-charm tactic.  Whatever it was, this definitely was 
not going to end with a mere flash of a grin on his part.  He had 
a feeling that this was much more than just the winter ball.  
	He shook his head a little as if to clear out his vision 
and dared to take another look at the ominously advancing figure.  
It would have been almost seductive with the disheveled blonde curls, 
the parted pink lips, the delicately flushed face, and the slow 
swagger of that killer body.  'oops, wrong choice of words there.'  
Almost seductive.  Just almost.  He looked up, yup there they were 
those hypnotic, gleaming blue eyes, thirsty for blood.  He shifted in 
the chair.  He could change this, he had it all under control, "Listen
Meatball head," 'somebody smack me.' He looked at Serena, 'no 
forget that,' "I don't see why you're so panicky, really, you're 
acting like a..." He ventured a look and stiffened.  'Ok, so 
maybe not ALL under control.' She had lowered herself down to a 
sitting position with her long legs dangling off the side of the 
table.  She was right in front of him, face to face.  
	She leaned in closer, he could practically feel her breath 
next to his ear. "Tell me Doctor," she whispered in a deep, 
throaty tone as she ran the blunt edge of her finger along his 
rigidly-held upper arm, "would you be able to fix your injuries 
if both your arms were broken?"
	She was so close he could smell the light, breezy scent
of her perfume.  It was intoxicating.  He didn't know whether to 
bolt out of the room or grab her and give it to her right then 
and there. (AN:  I'll leave you to interpret that one.  Left 
equivocal for all those imaginative minds out there.^_^)  But he 
did neither and just sat there, completely motionless.                                                
	0Her finger had finished its pilgrimage and had settled 
at the crook of his elbow.  "So, what do you say?  Any famous 
last words, Mr. President?" 
	A squeak from the end of the room caused both of them 
to jump.  The door opened revealing the innocent dean of the school.  
They both sat frozen in their positions, heaven knows what they 
looked like they were doing.  But the dean, familiar with the two 
fiery tempered officers only looked from the red-faced treasurer 
to the uncharacteristically rigid looking president and lifted a 
laconic brow, "Supplies for the winter ball came in today, pick 
them up from the storage room after your erhm...meeting."  With 
another squeak of the door the dean was gone.
	Darien looked back at Serena, she was still tantalizingly 
close, but the glaze over the pools of blue was gone.  Serena 
blinked.  Sanity had opened the door and let her in once more, but 
not before good ol' self-preservation had a chance to give her a 
couple of good awakening slaps across the face.  Color flooded into 
her cheeks as she recalled what she had just done.  She cleared 
her throat, "hem...fundraisers...we can do fundraisers.  L...Let's go 
get the supplies."  With a swift whirl she was off the table and out 
the door leaving him to wonder if he had dreamt the whole thing up.  
He stood up and composed himself and headed towards the storage room.
	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	* 	She had her back to the door when he came, so you really 
couldn't blame her for what happened.  In fact, she didn't even know 
that he had arrived until it was too late.  
	All she knew was that one moment she was fiddling around 
with a roll of colored streamers cooling down from the 
previous...incident, and the next she was in complete darkness 
listening to a furiously rattling doorknob.  There was a clunk and 
a splash accompanied with a "what the ****?"  Well, she wasn't 
Stanford's money keeper for nothing, so you see, it didn't take 
long for Serena to assess the situation and figure out what had 
happened.    She closed her eyes, "Paint bucket."  Then in 
response to the blank "what?," "That was the paint bucket.  It was 
there so the door wouldn't close."  She heard a dull thud which 
she interpreted as a head against the door.  It was common knowledge 
among the student government members, the storage room had a 
funny way of locking from the inside, managing to lock people 
in instead of out.  Yes dear readers, it was true, mortal 
enemies Serena Hart and Darien Calloway had just royally bestowed 
upon themselves at least two hours of pure, uninterrupted 
one-on-one combat in the pitch black darkness of the Stanford 
student supplies storage room.  
	"Why the heck was it a paint bucket?  What happened to 
the usual rubber stopper?"
	"There was no rubber stopper when I got here, just a 
paint bucket.  It should have held the door."  Fate, it seemed, had 
deemed to plot against Serena today.  She too had been puzzled when 
she had arrived at the storage room and discovered that the usual 
trusty and never-failing rubber stopper was nowhere to be seen.  In 
its place was this sturdy looking paint bucket, dutifully standing 
watch at the foot of the door.   Perhaps it was because of the 
mind-rattling "meeting" with Darien.  She had shrugged.  What the 
heck.  Everyone knew better than to close the door.  A hasty 
assumption, which had bought her a one-way ticket into her worst 
nightmare, with Darien Calloway as her tour guide.

          --Author's Notes--
So, what'd you think?  I having problems starting their conversation 
in the storage room.  Suggestions? Comments? Criticisms?  WRITE ME!!!!  Love,
NovemberStars