Bebe in LaLa Land: 9

 

A promise to tell Blaine the truth. A blackmailing teacher making her move.
A visit from friends from back east. Homework. A TV show to be made... just another
week in the life of an average fourteen year old girl.
Bebe's got a lot on her plate!

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Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has commented or emailed me about this story. I am so glad you're enjoying it!
As always, I LOVE TO READ YOUR REVIEWS AND COMMENTS! ~Clara.
 
This version of Bebe in LaLa Land: 9 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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STRUGGLING -or- IT WOULD BE SO NICE IF SOMETHING MADE SENSE FOR A CHANGE
 

"No, Blaine, I'm not 'sick,'" John sighed as he spoke into his phone to a very concerned young man several miles away. "Please, I really don't want to talk about this over the phone. We have the long weekend coming up, so let's meet for breakfast on Friday morning - my treat. After breakfast, we can have a long conversation. Then we can go to the airport to pick up my friends from Massachusetts that afternoon. Is that ok?"

"Ok, I guess," Blaine's voice came back through the earpiece of the phone. "I just wish I knew what the problem is. You seemed so upset yesterday."

"Blaine... these things are really... personal... and I need to prepare before we talk, ok? I'm really tired from yesterday and I have a lot of homework for both school AND work to get finished this afternoon. Sundays are my only day to do these things. Let's just be normal people for a few more days, ok? Then, on Friday - AFTER breakfast - I'll tell you everything I want to say."

"Alright, Bebe," the boy sighed and it kind of broke John's heart. "I'm sorry. I'll wait until Friday."

"Thank you," now, John sighed, relieved that the conversation was ending. "I'm really sorry, but I have to get this stuff done, ok?"

"Sure, Bebe. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Ok. Oh, after six, though. I'm working from two till six. I'll be leaving school at one." John was shuffling the books around on his bed, while also fussing with his computer to find his assignments in the online classrooms.

"Ok. After six. I love love," Blaine said, immediately realizing he'd told Bebe that he'd hold off saying that until she was ready.

He was about to apologize for saying it when Bebe's voice came through his phone, "Yep, I love you, too."

John froze. He was so used to saying that to his girlfriends - Ella, MK, Kylie, Annie and Cassie - that it had just popped out of his mouth. Shit! He definitely had strong feelings for Blaine, but to say those three words before telling him the truth... bad idea. A VERY bad idea!

There was silence on the phone for at least thirty seconds before John finally had to see if Blaine had heard him. "Blaine?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm just... Thanks Bebe."

Shit! Shit! Shit! What should he do? Explain? Laugh it off? Deny it?

"I..." John started to speak, but he couldn't find the words.

"You just made my day," Blaine sounded very emotional on the other end.

John waited a moment. "Blaine?" He asked. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm good," He stifled, just a little bit. "I'll let you do your work, Bebe. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye," John whispered into the phone as it disconnected.

Damnit! That wasn't going to make Friday any easier. He was really stressing about how much he should tell him and how. When this all began, he never anticipated dating as a fourteen year old and certainly not dating a boy - and now that he was dating a boy, he'd never anticipated falling for him - which he definitely had. He had envisioned a life with Blaine. A life in which he was Blaine's loving wife. That could be nice - if it were only possible.

He sighed and slammed his Civics textbook down on the bed in frustration. Then, he took a cleansing breath and opened the book he'd just abused, while also checking his assignment in his online classroom.

He'd only just started reading the assignment when that annoying, under-water-ish sound that indicated a Skype call was coming in came through his computer speakers.

"Arrrgh!" He grunted as he hit the 'accept' button before even looking at who was Skyping. "Hello?" He said in a grumpy sort of voice.

"Hi, Bebe!" came the chipper voice and face of Cassie. "Are you ok? You look awful!"

"Oh, sorry. I'm just tired and I'm in the middle of homework and... never mind.... I just have a lot of homework."

"Oh, that's cool. Call me back when you're not busy, ok?"

"No, no, no! I need to talk to you. I'm feeling a lot of pressure here and I need to talk to a friend."

"Sure, Bebe. What's going on?" At sixteen years old, Cassie had actually offered John a lot of good 'female' advice along the way, but, obviously, John could not be completely honest with her about what was bothering him.

"Oh, you know... school and work are really catching up to me. I could use a clone to help me get all of these things done and I'd still be stressed. I guess I'm just being a diva. I'm sorry. I was in a foul mood when you called."

"That's ok, Bebe. Are you ok, now? I mean, I can wait if you've got other things going on."

"Listen, Cass, have you ever dated a guy, you know, seriously dated?"

Cassie's smile faded a little and she took on a more serious expression. "Oh... that explains the bad mood. What did he do?"

John laughed. "Nothing. He's great. I'm the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Blaine is absolutely great. I mean, I know he loves me, he keeps telling me that he does, and I'm... I really like him. I don't know if it's love, or not, but... you know."

In the glow of the computer screen, John didn't notice that Rose had started to enter the room, but stopped when she heard that John was talking to Cassie. When she accidentally over heard the subject of the conversation, she stopped and listened. Not to be nosy, but to be a good cousin/parent. If Bebe was having a problem with Blaine, then Rose knew that she could probably offer better advice than Cassie.

"Ok," Cassie prodded, "so, he loves you and you're falling in love with him. What's the problem?"

John let out a nervous laugh. "I don't know, really... I guess, it's just all moving kind of fast."

"I get it," Cassie smiled. "How many boys have you dated, Beebs?"

Rose smiled when she heard Cassie call John 'Beebs.' That was Rose's nickname for John. She thought it was an adorable name. She loved that someone else was using it besides her and Ed.

"Let's see," John feigned counting on his fingers. "There was that boy in Algiers, they one in Paris, a whole bunch in Moscow, then there was that wild weekend in Tokyo... that comes out to... let's see... ONE, CASS! I'VE ONLY EVER DATED BLAINE!"

"Ok, ok, sorry." Cassie was laughing hard. "I think you need to be honest with him and tell him that you need him to go a little slower."

"Yeah, well, here's the thing... I told him that and he agreed to slow down, but... today, I made a big mistake."

"What?" Cassie asked and Rose grew curious, too.

"Well... a few minutes before you called, I was talking to Blaine on the phone and I was trying to get my homework started, so I was distracted, and... well, you know how when you we say goodbye, or you say goodbye to any girlfriend, you just automatically say, 'I love you?"

"Oh! My! God! You didn't?" Cassie was being dramatic, but even Rose's eyes were wide open, waiting to hear what John would say next.

"I did. I was trying to get onto my Civics classroom page and I was thinking of something else and... well, he just very casually said, 'I love you,' as we were hanging up and I blurted out, 'I love you, too.' Oh, Cassie, what am I going to do?"

Rose's hand shot up to cover her mouth to prevent her from letting out a loud 'Awww' at this sweet story of young love blooming.

Cassie groaned and said, "Did you tell him it was a mistake or anything?"

"No, of course not! What could I possibly say after saying 'I love you' that could take that back? 'Just kidding?'"

"Oh, you have done it, now! You have a love sick puppy following you around and you just threw him a bone. I don't know what to tell you. Have you talked to Rose?"

"Are you kidding?" John said more excitedly, but also more quietly. "She'd just think it was 'cute.' She thinks that everything that I do with Blaine is 'cute.'"

Rose was momentarily offended, until she realized that she really did think that it was cute. Hell, she thought it was adorable. A twenty-one year old man becomes a fourteen year old girl and falls in love with a fifteen year old boy... what could possibly be more precious? And she helped to orchestrate the whole thing!!!

Cassie was actually giggling a bit, now. "To tell you the truth, Beebs, I really have to agree with her, this time. I have no idea idea how you tell someone that you said 'I love you' by mistake."

"Ooooooohhhhhhh!" John looked at the ceiling and bounced on the bed in frustration as he moaned. "I am so screwed!!!"

"Well, not if you actually love him..."

"Cassie! I do, I think, but I wasn't ready to say it!" He hung his head and shook it from side to side. After a reasonable display of drama, he raised his head and looked at the computer through strands of his dark hair. "Are you guys exited about coming out here?"

Cassie blinked in confusion at the abrupt change of topic. "Oh... Yeah! We're super psyched! Annie and my mom are out shopping for new clothes, now. Annie talks about it, nonstop. I doubt she'll sleep at all this week."

John smiled and moved the hair from his face. "I'm glad. I can't wait to see you guys. I need to get some New England back onto my life. It's really nice here, but I miss home."

"You mean you miss your mom, or you miss Worcester?"

"I mean I miss The Cape. I always thought of The Cape as Home and the house in Worcester was just 'The Other House,' you know what I mean?"

"I do. I saw how much you loved being there. And you had that theater group that you worked with and all that. I get it."

John sighed. "Oh, well. I guess that sums up my life at the moment. I miss The Cape, I put my foot in my mouth with my boyfriend and I have a truckload of homework to finish." He sighed again. "I should probably go. Rose and I will be at the airport when you land on Friday - twothirty, right?"

"Right. Hey, did you have a lot of jet lag when you flew out there?"

"No. You might feel that when you fly home, at least that's what they tell me, but it's not so bad in this direction."

"Ok," Cassie laughed. "I'll explain that to Annie. She's sure that she'll be a mess from the time change."

John smiled. "She's so sweet. I hope you like my new friends."

"We will, Beebs. I'm sure we will. I'll let you go."

Hearing this, Rose stood straight and entered the room as if she'd just been passing. "Who are you talking to, Beebs?"

John looked up, then turned the computer to face Rose. "Cassie."

Rose sat on the end of the bed. "Hi, Cassie! Are you excited?"

"Oh, Yeah! I was just talking to Bebe about next weekend. We can't wait."

"Great!" Rose waved as John turned the computer back towards him. "We'll see you at LAX on Friday."

"Bye, Cass," John said and smiled.

"Bye, Beebs. Love you."

"Love you too," John said, then rolled his eyes at how easily it came out. "See you Friday," and the call ended.

Rose smiled at him. "Still in your nightie, I see. It's almost one o'clock."

"I know." John shrugged, a little guiltily. "I just don't have any casual clothes and I need to do this school work and look at the scripts for this week."

Rose smiled. "You're only called Monday and Tuesday and not for too long tomorrow, right?"

He nodded. "I know, but I like to know the whole script before we start shooting."

"I know," Rose reached out and moved his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ears. "Is everything ok, Beebs? When you guys went for your walk, yesterday, you both seemed happy, but when you got back, Blaine seemed concerned about something."

"I know," John kept his head down. "Rose... what am I going to do?"

"About what, sweetheart?"

"About Blaine. He told me he loves me. What if he knew I was a guy?"

"Bebe, your no more a guy than I am."

"I am where it counts, Rose. I don't like lying to him."

Rose nodded. "If you ever wanted, you could change what's down there, you know."

John's head shot up. He'd never really considered that, let alone speak about it. He went ashen.

"I'm only saying that it is an option, Bebe. I'm not telling you to do anything. I love you just the way you are and I'm sure that, years from now, when you find the right guy, whether that's Blaine or another guy, he'll love you just the way you are, too."

"How?" John's gazed remained lowered. "I was a guy, Rose. I know how guys think. If I found out that a girl I was dating had a penis, I'd freak out."

"I know, baby, but you do. So, we either need to think about how to tell Mr Right, when he comes along, or make a change. You know what I mean."

John nodded.

"Does that help?" Rose asked.

John shook his head to indicate 'no.'

"I'm sorry, baby. We'll figure it out, though. I promise."

He nodded again, and opened his Civics book without looking up.

"Alright, baby, I'll let you do your work."

Rose stood and headed out of the room, but she was stopped by a quiet, sad voice. "Rose... could you just sit on the bed with me for a while?"

"Sure, baby," she crossed to the other side and sat with her legs extended down the bed and her back against the headboard.

John grabbed his book and laptop and snuggled in under Rose's arm.

"What are you studying?" Rose asked.

"It's a paper on the Dred Scott decision."

"Oh," Rose took the book from John and held it so he could see it, still. "The fugitive slave laws, right?"

John nodded and started typing.

Rose watched as the pretty girl in the silky, lace covered nightie who was snuggled in, next to her, worked and she felt nothing but love for the child. She pulled her just a bit closer, kissed the child's temple and rested her head on hers.

"I love you, Beebs."

"I know. I love you, too."

"Miss Bebe," Miss Karen hung up the classroom-phone and turned to the girls who were working on a Biology lab.

"Yes, Miss Karen?"

"Please take your things with you and report to the main office for dismissal."

John checked the clock. It was only 12:15. He didn't expect to be dismissed for another forty-five minutes. "Yes, Miss," he said and gathered his things. He blew a kiss to Ella and MK and hustled to his locker. He grabbed his backpack, stuffed his books into it and was in the main office within five minutes of the phone ringing.

"Yes?" the secretary asked as he arrived at the counter.

"Excuse me, Miss. I'm Bianca Foley. I'm being dismissed."

The secretary checked her clipboard. "Yes, but Miss Gabriella wants to see you before you leave."

John felt a flush of warm fear pass through his body. "Oh?"

The woman knocked on the Headmistress' door. "Excuse me, Miss Gabriella, but Bianca Foley is here." She waited a moment, then turned to John and said, "You can come in, Bianca."

John came around the counter, passed through the outer office and entered the Headmistress' office. As he did so, the secretary closed the door behind him. Miss Gabriella looked up from her computer, gazing at John over her reading glasses. "Please be seated, Miss Bianca. I'll just be a moment."

John sat and waited, looking around the office and wondering why he was here. Miss Gabriella continued typing and ignoring him for more than five minutes before she finally acknowledged his presence.

Finally, she pushed the keyboard aside and looked at John, her arms folded, the reading glasses staying in place like a theatrical prop.

"Well, Miss Bianca, here we are, again."

"Yes, Miss," John said. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, I should say so, Miss Bianca," the older woman said. She reached for a pink slip and looked at it for a few moments before continuing. "I have seen your TV show, Miss Bianca, and I have to say, I was very impressed, but I find myself wondering how a young woman who does such a good job on that show is receiving an F-warning in her Theater Arts class."

She placed the pink slip in front of John. He looked it and was shocked to see the words 'insolent to teacher' and 'incomplete work' and 'grade average: 36' written on the right hand column.

"Miss," John stuttered, "I was never insolent to Miss Stephanie and I thought I'd completed all of my work. I checked on the classroom page on the Internet last night and I thought that I'd turned in everything. I don't understand this."

"Well, neither do I, young lady. You may think that this is the kind of school that you can just sail through without doing any work, but I assure you, it is not! Now, I have had just about enough of your nonsense, Miss Bianca, and I am giving you an ultimatum - if this grade isn't at least a seventy-five by the time this quarter grades close in three weeks, you will no longer be a student at Notre Dame Academy. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

John nearly cried. How could this have happened!? He'd done all of his work! "Miss... I didn't..."

"AM I MAKING MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR, BIANCA?" The Headmistress was turning red in the face.

"Yes, Miss," he said in a quiet voice.

"Now, you will report to my office at seven thirty tomorrow morning and you will have both of your guardians with you so we can discuss this."

"Yes, Miss," he nodded.

"No excuses, Bianca. I am serious. Both of them. Here. Seven thirty."

"Yes, Miss."

Miss Gabriella checked her watch. "Good. Now, your car should be here any minute. Take that warning, show it to your guardians and I will see you in the morning. Good bye, Bianca." She went back to her computer.

John rose, took his backpack and headed to the door. "Miss?" John made one final effort to plead his case, but the Headmistress would hear none of it.

"Tomorrow morning, Miss Bianca. Seven thirty."

John walked through the office, past the secretary and out to the front entrance where there was a town car waiting. He hurried to it, surprised that Oscar had not gotten out to open the door for him, but when he opened the door, Oscar was not driving. It was a young, Asian man who looked up from his phone as John dropped onto the seat.

The driver glanced up into the mirror. "Bianca Foley?"

John nodded, and as he did, he felt all of his will power fade away and his face melted into tears. What the hell was Miss Stephanie's game and why was she doing this to him? Besides upsetting him, this was going to get Ed and Rose mad at him. They already thought of him as a child. Now, they'd be mad because he couldn't maintain his grades. His grades in a Theater class, for crying out loud!

The driver glanced in the mirror, again and saw that his passenger was upset. "Hey. Hey. Girl. Umm... Bianca? Are you ok?"

John just nodded and looked out the window.

"Ok..." It wasn't his fault. He was only about twenty years old himself. He didn't know how to deal with a high-strong, teenaged girl. Probably just PMS-ing, anyway.

"Jesus, honey," the makeup woman said to John, "your whole face is swollen. Have you been crying?"

John just shrugged and looked at his lap.

"Oh, crap, honey," the woman, who John had only worked with once before and he could not recall her name, said. "I can't cover this. We're going to need to ice your face to get that swelling out."

"Miss Foley," a production assistant stuck her head into the room, "we need you on set right now."

The makeup woman straightened up and turned to the PA. "She won't be ready for an hour or so. You'd better tell the director."

"Oh, shit," the PA muttered. "Is she ok?"

"I don't know. Just tell him."

Within moments, the Director, Ed, Rose and Don were all running down the hallway.

"Beebs, honey," Rose knelt by the makeup station, "what happened?"

John put his hand on his forehead, his thumb and forefinger just above his eyebrows, hiding his face. "I'm sorry, Rose, but I just can't take it, any more. Miss Stephanie, she..." he started shaking with his sobs.

"Hey, guys," Don said in a very rational voice, "why don't you all clear put for a few minutes and let us talk to Bebe. Ok?"

Everyone nodded and filed out. The Director was last and he spoke quietly to Don. "Listen, Don, we're kind of up against the schedule, here. Do you think she'll be able to work today?"

Don patted the man's shoulder. "Frank, you know how it is with kids. You have to deal with these things as they come along. Now, Bebe has been a work horse for you since she arrived and you know, full well, that she's one of the reasons that this show got off on a good footing. So, I suggest that you give us a little time to talk to her and see what's happening. I'll let you know what's going on when I can."

The Director heaved a sigh and nodded. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Don... figure it out quickly, will ya?"

"I'll do my best, Frank." And with that, Don guided him out the door and closed it behind him.

Ed was now kneeling on the opposite side of the chair from Rose. He had one hand on John's head and he was speaking in a quiet, patient tone. "Bebe, baby. What happened with Miss Stephanie?"

John struggled to gain his composure, but he just couldn't. He felt overwhelmed.

Rose looked at Don, who's face was a map of concern, "The hormones make her more emotional. The doctor told us she may have reactions like this from time to time."

"They're essentially pushing her through puberty at a very quick rate," Ed explained. "It takes a toll on her."

Don nodded.

"Come on, baby," Ed held his head to John's. "Take some deep breaths and tell us what happened. No matter what, we're here for you."

"We love you, Beebs," Rose kissed his cheek. "We're not going to be upset with you."

What was happening to him, John wondered? He used to be a self sufficient adult. He lived at college in Boston and dealt with everything on his own. This was a problem with a talentless, high school, theater teacher. Why was it such a crisis for him? Was it just the hormones or had he completely forgotten how to be an adult?

"She... She... She..." he tried, but he couldn't get the words out. Finally, he reached into his bra and took out a piece of pink paper that had been folded neatly into a small square.

Rose took it and read it.

"What is it?" Ed asked, while still hugging his head to his niece's.

"It's a failure warning from Miss Stephanie. It cites missing work and insolence to the teacher."

Ed stood tall and took the paper from Rose to read it himself.

Don breathed a heavy breath. "That's all it is, then? A failure warning?"

"It says," Ed continued to read, "that she has three weeks to get her grade up to a seventy five or she'll be expelled. That's probably what's got her so revved up."

John shook his head.

"That's not it, baby?" Rose asked. "What is it, then?"

Finally able to breath, again, John explained that both Ed and Rose needed to be at the school at seven thirty the next morning. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to upset you."

"Bebe," Ed laughed, "why would this upset me?" Ed crumpled the pink piece of paper in frustration "You know how I feel about that teacher and that Headmistress. They're both a couple of petty functionaries with this much power," he held up his thumb and forefinger, separated by a fraction of an inch to illustrate, "that they wield over vulnerable, little girls."

"Ed," Rose interrupted him before he could get carried away, "relax. We'll discuss this tonight - after Bebe's gone to bed. We'll present a united front tomorrow and we'll get this straightened out. Ok?"

"Yeah," Ed nodded. "Ok."

Don moved in front of John and looked him in the eye. "Hey, sweetheart," his voice was soft and paternal as me stroked John's cheek. "See, no one is upset with you. Do you think you can work today, or would you rather go home? Because, if you need a day off, no one is going to be upset with you."

John looked at the three supportive faces and steadied his breathing. "I'd really rather work, if that's ok."

"Of course it is, angel," Don kissed his forehead. "They're going to have to ice your face down a little though, to take care of the swelling. While they do that, I'm going to suggest that you don't look at your phone, ok? I don't think you're in the right frame of mind to be dealing with any more teenaged angst, today. We'll just put on some music that you like and you can concentrate on that. Alright?"

John nodded.

Don called the makeup woman in and gave her instructions. She nodded and said, "Alexa - play 'Disney Mix.'"

Louis Prima's voice came out of the six inch tall speaker, "Well, I'm the king of the swingers, Oh, the jungle VIP.

"Is this music ok, Miss Foley?" The makeup woman asked.

John nodded. "Please don't call me 'Miss' anything though. I've kinda heard enough of that, lately. Please, just call me Bebe."

"We're here for a meeting with Miss Gabriella," Ed told the secretary at Notre Dame. It was seven-twenty-eight am. Classes didn't start until eight, so the hallways were pretty much empty.

"Oh, yes. I'm afraid she's with another parent, right now. She'll be about fifteen minutes."

Ed checked his watch. "Our meeting was scheduled by Miss Gabriella for seven-thirty. It is now seven-twenty-eight. I expect that we will be in her office in no more than two minutes. In seven minutes, if we are not in there, we will be contacting our lawyer to deal with Miss Gabriella. Please make sure that she receives that message."

Ed sat on a bench with John to his left and Rose just beyond.

"Just stay calm," Rose whispered to him. "Remember what we discussed. We listen and we nod, then we respond, Ed. Remember - RESPOND. Don't react."

Ed checked his watch and nodded. "That's how the meeting will go, but if she's not out here in six minutes, we're leaving."

John could feel his heart pounding out the seconds in his chest. He hated being stuck in the middle like this. He hadn't done anything wrong. This was just a power play by Miss Stephanie.

Ed sighed and looked at Rose. "One minute."

Rose rolled her eyes just as the secretary picked up the phone receiver, muttered a few words, then called to them, "Mr McNeal, Miss Gabriella will see you, now."

He stood and buttoned his suit coat. "Thank you." Then he turned to Rose and John and indicated they should precede him. Rose went first, but as John passed, he reached out and took Ed's hand in his. That is how they entered the Headmistress' office.

Miss Gabriella was standing behind her desk. "Good morning, Miss Bianca," she said, coolly. She shook hands with Ed. Then said, "And you are?" To Rose.

"I'm Bebe's cousin, Rose. I share guardianship of Bebe hit Ed."

"Oh, my, yes, I recognize you from your TV show, now. You look much older on TV. How old are you, dear?"

"I'm twenty-two."

"Oh, my, you are very young to have the responsibilities of raising Bianca, aren't you?"

"Obviously, my aunt did not think so. I assure you, Mrs Gabriella, we are very focused on Bebe's well being."

"Well, that's good to know, but I regret to have to tell you that it appears that Miss Bianca has been pulling the wool over your eyes, I'm afraid. She has neglected her work in her Theater Arts class, and she has been belligerent to her teacher in that class, as well."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Miss Stephanie stuck her head in. "I'm sorry I'm late, Headmistress. Traffic was terrible, this morning."

"Understandable, Miss Stephanie. Thank you for coming in early. Please come in. This is Miss Stephanie, Miss Bianca's Theater Arts teacher."

Ed and Rose nodded to her. "We know Miss Stephanie," Rose said. "She works on the set with our younger actors."

"Oh, of course. Miss Stephanie, could you, please, give them a summary of the situation in which we find ourselves, today."

"Yes, Miss Gabriella. Well, regarding her classwork and homework, Bianca has neglected to pass in seven assignments, to date. A summary of three different plays; 'The Man Who Came To Dinner,' 'Marty' and 'Lady Windermere's Fan.' She has also not completed four installments in her online acting journal. These installments are due every Friday and Bianca has only submitted one installment."

"Let's address these items, first." Miss Gabriella said. "Miss Bianca? What have you got to say for yourself?"

Before John could say anything, Ed said, "Miss Gabriella, I will speak for Bebe on these matters. I reviewed Bebe's online classroom work, last night and I found that she had submitted her summary of 'Lady Windermere's Fan,' but that Miss Stephanie had requested revisions to this work. The thing is though, she submitted this request at 5:00pm YESTERDAY - after Bebe received the Failure Warning. As for the summaries of the other two plays, both of those were assigned before Bebe was a student at Notre Dame and, again, according to the online classroom which is managed by Miss Stephanie, Bebe was not required to do these assignments."

"Well, Mr. McNeal," Miss Stephanie smiled a malicious and condescending smirk, "I may not have written that specifically into the classroom, but I told Miss Bianca - verbally - that she needed to get caught up on those."

"Did she?" Ed asked John.

"No," John responded, quietly.

Ed returned his gaze to Miss Stephanie. "Evidently, you are mistaken, Miss Stephanie. Bebe is an excellent student and Theater has always been her favorite class. She was not aware that these assignments were due, but she is willing to have that work into you within a week. Is that satisfactory?"

"For those assignments, yes."

"Now," Ed continued, "regarding these journal entries, Bebe has screen shots indicating that she submitted fairly large entries into her journals on the dates requested, however, only her first entry is still posted In your online classroom. How is that possible?" He placed printouts of the 'Assignment Completed' notifications on the desk for the Headmistress to see.

"Hmm, these do seem like the correct dates, Miss Stephanie." She passed them over to the teacher.

"May I ask, Miss Bianca," Miss Gabriella said, "why you would take screen shots of these notices?"

John looked to Ed who nodded, giving John permission to speak.

"When I took online classes at Emerson, Miss Gabriella, they told us to always take a screen shot of our submission receipt just in case the Professor lost track of it. I just continued to do it when I started here."

She nodded. "That is a good practice, obviously, Miss Bianca. Miss Stephanie, can you explain these receipts."

"No, Miss Gabriella," she shook her head. "I am baffled. Do you have copies of the work, Miss Bianca?"

John shook his head and looked to Ed for permission, again. Ed nodded.

"No, Miss. The journals are all done online, and I didn't think I needed to print out the work - I'm not even sure I could."

"But the point is," Ed said, firmly, "that she did submit the work and, since it could only have been deleted by the classroom administrator, which is you, Miss Stephanie, only you could have deleted it."

The teacher looked indigent. "I beg your pardon, Mr McNeal, are you accusing me of something?"

"No, Miss Stephanie," he shook his head. "You are the only one making accusations. I am just here in defense of my niece."

"Alright, everyone," the Headmistress said, "let's remain composed. I believe that the matter of the outstanding work has been addressed and resolved. Now, Miss Stephanie, please relate the story you told me about your encounter with Miss Bianca at last weekend's Halloween Dance at St Mark's."

She explained how she'd volunteered to chaperone the event and how she ran into John in the Ladies' Room. "I complemented her on her costume and the success of the TV show. Then, as I asked about her schedule at school next week - Well, this week, now - she stuck her middle finger up at me and said, 'Fuck you.' Well, I was absolutely shocked and I walked straight out of that room! I've been teaching for many years, now, but I have NEVER been treated like that by a student!"

The Headmistress looked at the family before her. "Well, Bianca?"

Rose spoke, this time. "Miss Gabriella and Miss Stephanie, both Ed and I have spent an awful lot of time with Bebe and neither of us has ever heard her use language like that. I am, truly, not able to believe that she said anything like that."

"Well, believe it, or not," Miss Stephanie said, "it did happen."

"Bebe?" Ed asked, "Did this happen?"

"No. Not like that. I was talking to Miss Stephanie and she was being kind of mean to me about the show and about being out of school because of my job, and, eventually, I did turn my back on her and put my hands under the hand dryer, and she was gone when my hands were dry. I never said anything like that to her."

"What do you mean when you say that Miss Stephanie was being 'mean' about the show?" Miss Gabriella asked.

John shrugged. "I don't know. Like it was no big deal and that we were all just riding Don Ferry's coattails. Stuff like that. She's always been kind of mean about the show."

"Oh, what a little liar you are, Miss Bianca," Miss Stephanie acted appalled.

"I'd watch my language if I were you, Miss Stephanie," Ed said, calmly, still holding John's hand. "So far, almost everything that you've told us has been untruthful."

"Alright, everyone,"the Headmistress said. "Here is what is going to happen. One of my teachers has made an allegation and that is a serious matter. So, since we are in a 'she said, she said' situation, I am going to take Miss Stephanie's side in this matter. I am going to leave the resolution of this matter to her. I will not proceed towards Miss Bianca's expulsion at this time. Miss Stephanie can set up a community service project of some sort for Miss Bianca to serve as an abject lesson about being respectful to others. Is that acceptable to everyone."

"No," Rose said. "Bebe did nothing wrong."

"Then the lesson will be about helping others. There is no downside to community service." She was obviously done with this discussion. "Miss Stephanie, please send an outline of a community service project to Miss Bianca's guardians. I think a project that lasts between fifteen and twenty hours Over several days or weekends should serve our purposes. I think this will settle the matter, nicely. Are we in Agreement?"

Miss Stephanie nodded.

"I am not happy about this," Ed said, flatly. "I don't believe that Bebe did anything wrong, but, if this will put an end to all of this nonsense, then... fine."

"Well, school is about to start, so, thank you for coming in this morning. Miss Stephanie will be in touch."

"That's it" Ed seemed shocked. "No apology for 'losing' Bebe's work? Or for making her upset?"

"No, Mr McNeal," Miss Gabriella acted exhausted by the question. "These things happen. Let's just move on."

He shook his head in disgust, but Rose stood quickly and shook hands with the two educators. "Thank you for your time. I'm sure that noting like this will ever happen again."

Ed just stood and walked out of the office with John in tow.

Once in the hallway, he turned to Rose and said, "I hate these women. I don't understand this 'screw the children' attitude. Maybe we should look at another school for her."

Rose shrugged. "Maybe we should. What do you think Beebs?"

John looked as if he was going to cry, again. "I mean... except for those two women, I really like it here. I have friends, too. I'm kinda lonely like this, you know. I only really have Ella and MK for friends."

"What about Kylie and Darrin and the other kids on the show?" Rose suggested.

"Kylie and I are friends because we both go here and Darrin and I are friendly, but we're not really friends..." a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Alright, Alright, Alright," Ed couldn't face another day of crying. "We'll work it out."

"So, Hank says," Don was speaking quietly to Ed and Rose. John was filming a scene with Kylie and he felt more comfortable discussing the private detective's findings without John present, "this Miss Stephanie has more than a dozen people paying her off at the moment and that he's passed that information along to the police. The problem is that no one wants to testify in court about whatever it is that she has on them. Blackmail is a tough crime to get witnesses for."

Ed nodded. "But the police are still investigating, though, right?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It may take awhile, but they'll get to her, eventually."

Ed folded his arms and looked at Rose. "I guess that's all we can do for now, then."

"I guess," Rose stood from her makeup mirror chair. "You told him about our meeting this morning, though, right?"

"I did. Other than suggesting that you record any meetings or phone calls, he said we just have to sit and wait for her to make a mistake."

"Ok. Thanks, Don," Ed shook his hand. "Let's hope that she makes a mistake before she gets her hooks into either Bebe or Kylie."

"Did you come up with a schedule for our girl to do her community service?" Don asked.

"Of course, not," Rose sighed. "She keeps demanding that Bebe stays after school, which, of course, she can't do because of the show."

Just then, Ed's text-tone sounded. He read the text and said, "Huh. I think we may have found how she's going to get her hooks into Bebe. Listen to this. 'MR. MCNEAL. SINCE NONE OF MY SUGGESTED TIMES WORKS FOR YOUR NIECE, PERHAPS WE COULD WORK OUT A SCHEDULE WHICH WOULD INVOLVE MEETNG WITH HER ON THE WEEKEND. THAT, OF COURSE, WOULD REQUIRE THAT I BILL YOU FOR MY TIME, WHICH WOULD BE PRICEY, BUT IT WOULD BE A WAY TO PUT ALL OF THIS UNPLEASANTNESS BEHIND US. IF YOU'D LIKE TO DISCUSS THIS OPTION, I CAN MEET YOU TOMORROW EVENING AT THE STARBUCKS NEAR NOTRE DAME TO DISCUSS THE COST. PLEASE LET ME KNOW.'"

"This sounds promising," Don said. "I'll let Hank know, but be sure that you record the meeting on your phone. If Hank wants to do something more technologically advanced, I'll let you know."

"Ok," Ed sent a text back. 'I THINK THAT THE WEEKEND OPTION MAY BE THE BEST. I KNOW WHERE THE STARBUCKS IS. IS 6:45 TOMORROW EVENING A GOOD TIME?'

Within seconds, the reply came, 'PERFECT. SEE YOU THEN.'

"Excellent!" Don clapped his hands. "I wouldn't bring Bebe, though."

"No, I agree," Ed tucked his phone into the breast pocket of his shirt.

"I'll take her shopping," Rose said. "She wants to get a new dress to go to breakfast with Blaine on Friday."

"Another new dress!?" Ed pretended to be outraged. "She is becoming quite the clothes-horse."

"You know," Rose teased , as she helped John into the fifth dress that he had tried on that afternoon, "at some point, Blaine is going to have to see you wear the same dress more than once."

"I know," John fussed, "but I want something special to wear to the airport to meet the girls, Friday, too. Breakfast with Blaine is just part of why I need a new dress. Besides, I really don't own all that many clothes. None of my 'Bianca Clothes' fit any more and, certainly, none of John's do."

"I know, sweetie," Rose kissed John's cheek as she pulled the dress over his arms and head. "I just like to tease you."

She spun him around and pulled the tiny zipper up his back.

"Oh, I like this one,"John said as he looked at himself in the peachy-pink, crepe, fit and flare dress with the V-neck and sleeves that puffed, just a tiny bit, on top and hung loosely to his elbows and the full, flowing skirt that ended just at his knees. It was simple and perfect and just as feminine as Blaine liked.

"Well, I have to say," Rose fussed with the skirt and then his hair in a decidedly maternal way, "you do have wonderful taste in dresses, Beebs."

John swayed to make sure that the skirt swung correctly. It did. "Do you think we might be able to find a comfortable, heeled sandal to go with this?"

Rose giggled. "I'm sure we can find the perfect shoes to go with it, baby." She kissed the back of his head.

She pulled the zipper down and helped him out of the pretty garment.

Hank was already at the Starbucks when Ed arrived. He was seated at a table in the center of the restaurant with a laptop opened. He looked like every other business person who might have stopped for an overpriced, bitter coffee on the way home from work. There were only a couple of other people in the coffee shop. A pretty woman of forty-five or more years sitting in the far corner, looking at her phone, and a good looking guy in his twenties sitting near the counter. The guy was playing an online video game and sipping his iced coffee through a straw. He was wearing a sleeveless, black tee shirt with the logo of the band Aerosmith on the front and a list of tour dates on the back. More notable than the shirt, though, was the size and definition of the man's upper arms. He looked strong enough to be a professional athlete - probably an actor, though, since this was LA. He was handsome enough to be one.

Hank had told Ed not to worry about recording the meeting. He'd be there and he'd have the appropriate microphone and recording equipment to capture everything that was said.

Ed ordered a black coffee and headed over to sit at a table by the window, as Miss Stephanie had instructed.

Within minutes, she arrived, placed her order, waved to Ed, then, after receiving a cup of soy latte, she took the seat opposite Ed.

"Hello, Mr McNeal, thank you for meeting me here. It's right on my way home from school."

"My pleasure, Miss Stephanie," Ed smiled as friendly as he could.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," the teacher pulled out her phone and shut it off, placing it on the table, "but would you mind shutting off your phone whilst we talk. I hate being interrupted by cell phones, don't you?"

"Sure." Ed pulled out his phone and held down the button to shut it off. When the Apple logo was displayed, he put it on the table next to Miss Stephanie's. 'Pretty clever way to keep from being recorded,' he thought.

Miss Stephanie then explained a plan for a series of Saturday mornings in which she would meet with Bianca and set up community service work for each of those days. Bianca would be required to do things like park clean-up, removing graffiti, food bank distribution... things like that.

"Well," Ed was making notes on the back of his receipt, "that sounds like a reasonable compromise. Thank you, Miss Stephanie."

"Now, of course, if I am giving up my free time, then I will need to be compensated."

"Of course," Ed stayed casual. "What do you think is a fair amount?"

"Well, I hate to just throw out numbers, but I have given this a lot of thought. Bianca did behave appallingly towards me and I am being gracious enough to spend this extra time with her, so..."

Ed stopped writing and looked at the teacher, waiting for the ax to fall. "So...?" Ed mimicked her intonation.

"Well... let me just write down a number on my napkin and pass it over to you." She scribbled on the napkin, folded it, smiled and passed it across the table.

Ed opened it, then looked up at the woman and he smiled. "This is your 'per-hour' rate?"

She nodded, her smile never fading. "This is my final offer, Mr McNeal. Either you accept this offer, or I tell the Headmistress that you were uncooperative and your niece is out of Notre Dame by the end of the day, tomorrow. Oh, and if you decide to mention this fee to the Headmistress, I'll deny it and tell her that you threatened me with physical harm. Won't that play nicely on the cover of People Magazine?" Her smile broadened.

Ed remained calm. "So, you think that your time, the time that you're willing to spend helping Bianca to do community service, is worth five thousand dollars per hour?"

"Yes, Mr McNeal, I do."

"So, for twenty hours of work, you will expect to receive one-hundredthousand dollars?" He pronounced the words slowly and clearly, both to avoid screaming and to be sure that Hank hear it, loud and clear.

"I do, Mr McNeal. In fact, I think it's a bargain for you to keep your precious, little money maker in this school and out of the papers and off of TMZ. Don't you agree?"

"You're a thief, Miss Stephanie." Ed took a deep breath. "What if I were to call the police right now?"

"Do what you like, Mr McNeal. You have no evidence, and besides, no money has exchanged hands, so no crime has occurred."

Ed folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "I'll think about it."

"Think quick, Mr McNeal. This offer is only available for the next two minutes. Then... Bye, Bye Bianca."

"You're a piece of shit," Ed said in a loud whisper.

"Oh, now, now, Mr McNeal, if you use language like that again, then I'm afraid that the price will go up up, substantially."

Ed crossed his arms. "How long do I have to get the money?"

"See, now, that's much better. Let's say, twenty-four hours. You can come back here tomorrow - same time - and we'll make everything official. No receipts. No contracts. Just a simple promise."

Ed just nodded.

"See the rather large fellow in the corner?" She indicated the man in the Aerosmith shirt that Ed had noted earlier.

Ed nodded without looking.

"You'll be dealing with him, tomorrow, not me. He'll be my Insurance today, too. I'll leave first, then you can go, but don't be surprised if he follows you, just to be sure that you don't do something... regrettable."

She stood and kissed his cheek as if they were old friends. "Until tomorrow, Mr McNeal," and she exited. Ed watched her go, then his eyes strayed to the Aerosmith guy, who was leaning back in his chair. When their eyes met, Aerosmith nodded, then his attention returned to his computer game.

Ed picked up his phone and turned it back on. When it had booted up, there was a text message from Rose. Ed opened it and found a picture of John in a peachy-pink, crepe dress, with matching, strapped sandals with a low heel. It was a lovely outfit. He returned a text, 'VERY PRETTY.'

He stood and headed for the door. Hank never even glanced up at him. Aerosmith-man watched him the whole way, though. As Ed passed him, he glanced down at the screen of the man's computer where he saw the words 'VERY PRETTY,' written on the screen.

"Son of an bitch!" Ed mumbled.

"You know it," the man grinned.

On the way home, Ed pulled into a Verizon store and bought a new phone and calling plan. He didn't know if Aerosmith needed to be close to him in order to eavesdrop, but he wasn't going to give him a chance to try.

The next night, Ed pulled into the parking lot of the Starbucks and was headed into the coffee shop, when he was stopped by Miss Stephanie's henchman, this time wearing a 'Rush' tee shirt, again with the arms cut off. "I'll take the envelope, Mr McNeal," he said quietly, yet somewhat threateningly.

Ed looked the tough guy in the eye and slowly removed the envelope from the interior pocket of the sports coat he was wearing, stopping with the edge of the envelope visible to the blackmailer. "Tell me something," Ed said before turning over the one-hundred-thousand dollars, "are you and Stephanie proud of yourselves? Do you sleep well? Ripping off little girls - does that make you feel like a real tough guy?"

"Give me the money, now, ass-wipe, or I'll show you how tough a guy I can be."

Ed pulled the envelope free of his jacket and held it between his first and second fingers above his right shoulder. "Tell the woman who holds the end of your leash that this is the first, last and only time she will get a penny from us."

The man in the Rush tee shirt grabbed the envelope and smirked at Ed. "We'll see, pussy. I wouldn't be surprised to see you in this same parking lot in six months. Know what I mean?" He turned and walked away, laughing loudly.

Ed stood and watched as the guy got into an old Toyota sedan and drove away. Moments later, Hank and Don walked up behind Ed.

"Did you get all that?" Ed asked.

"We did," Hank said. "LAPD already has it. There's two detectives following him, now. As soon as they can link him to Stephanie, they'll grab them both."

Ed nodded.

Don patted him on the back. "Way to go, tough guy! You've got balls of steel, my friend. I couldn't have been that cool."

Ed shrugged. "Bebe needs me to take care of her. That's all I was doing."

"You're a good guy, Ed. Let's go get a drink."

The steam from the shower had clouded the mirror in John's bathroom. He brushed his teeth and towel dried his hair before picking up his blow dryer and went to work on his hair. Using a barrel brush to separate his hair, he did his best to get it mostly dry before opening up the door to the bedroom and proceeding to gather his undergarments for the day. After the mirrors had cleared, he'd return to finish his hair.

He pulled out a peach colored bra and panty set and laid them on the bed, then he took the hanger holding his new dress out and hung it on the hook on the back of the hallway door.

It was still early, not quite 7:00. He'd had a hard time sleeping. He kept thinking about what he should tell Blaine and how he should tell him. He wanted to talk to Rose and Ed, but they'd just tell him not to say anything and John couldn't do that.

He looked out the window at the sprawling valley below. In many ways, this was everything he'd dreamed of, but then again - it wasn't.

He headed back to his bed, but stopped at the mirror to look at his hair. Not horrible for having done it in front of a steamed-up mirror. He'd have to do more to it, though - curl it with the curling iron, then loosen the curls with a brush. Blaine liked it wavy. Not straight. Not curly. Wavy. If that's what Blaine liked, then why not give it to him?

As he looked at his hair, he noticed his face. It's features had softened a great deal since June, when he first became Bianca for 'The Taming Of The Shrew.' God, that seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, his nose and chin looked softer. His cheeks, a little plumper. His eyebrows were plucked to a moderate point, with an arch implied. They were much like most of his classmates at Notre Dame. Not a high arch, just neat and pretty.

He touched his cheek. He hadn't shaved in months and he assumed he'd probably never shave again. No big loss there. He never really had much facial or body hair. It never really bothered him. The Van Dyke he wore until late May took months to grow and was always scrawny and unattractive.

His shoulders looked smaller than before. Granted, he'd lost a lot of weight since this all started. He was 151 pounds in June. He was 117, now.

His gaze moved to his breasts. They were more than just the puffy beginnings of female puberty. They were breasts. Real breasts. They had a darkened areola surrounding a firm, erect nipple. They were well shaped and, even though they were modest, they stood out prominently on his small frame. He touched them and they felt warm, nice, right.

Maybe Don was right. Way back when he'd first auditioned for 'Civil Disobedience,' Don said, "You're better as a girl." Maybe he was right. Thinking back to high school, the only friend that John ever had was Ed, who didn't even go to the same school as him. Almost everyone seemed to like Bebe, though. Why? Maybe Bebe just seemed right to everyone and John had been a little... off?... Weird? Well... Something.

When he went to high school in Worcester, some of the less intellectual guys called him 'gay,' or a 'fag' because he knew nothing about sports and loved theater. Ha. What would they say now!? Was he gay? Maybe. He wasn't sure. He knew that he'd been smitten with Rose, that was for sure, but he felt different with Blaine. Very different. He worshipped Rose, but he... longed for Blaine. He missed him terribly when they weren't together. He thought about him during classes and at night when he was in bed. He wanted to to be pretty for Blaine. To cheer him on and tell him how much he... he loved him... but he couldn't do that until he told Blaine the truth. Maybe not about his age, after all, a lot of girls fibbed about their ages - maybe not about six years, but still... legally and as far as everyone in his life was concerned, John was Bebe and Bebe was fourteen until next week when she turned fifteen. That could wait till another day.

But what about today? What should he tell Blaine?

Blaine.

John glanced at his breasts. Just thinking about Blaine made his nipples grow hard and more erect. That had to mean that he liked boys, right? But was he even a boy, anymore.

He returned his gaze to his reflection. No makeup and hair not done, but that was definitely not a boy looking back at him.

He stepped back and looked at his hips. They'd rounded and plumped and he'd hardly noticed. He turned and looked at his rear end. Same thing there. Pumper, rounder, more feminine. Nice.

Then his eyes wandered to his genitals. Shaved and naked, they looked as if they belonged to a little boy. Is that what he was? A little boy pretending to be a girl?

No.

He knew what it felt like to be a boy and he felt awkward and wrong like that. He'd searched his heart since arriving in California and he knew that his life before had been a mistake. What if the doctors had discovered that he was intersexed when he was an infant? Would he have been raised as a girl?

Who knew?

He was what he was. He was where he was. He could only deal with life as he understood it and he understood that, despite how odd it may be to accept, he loved Blaine.

He looked at the limp organ that hung where his legs met. He really liked it at times. Yeah, it was a liability for Bebe, but was he ready to make the decision to remove it?

No. He wasn't. It was part of who he was. If he could have it removed and then be a biological woman, have children and everything, he'd have it removed in a heartbeat, but... as things stood, now, he wanted to keep it, even if it had to be tucked away.

But what would Blaine think?

Would he freak out? Maybe. Probably.

Would he hit John? Probably not, but he might be justified if he did. After all, John had not been honest with him... No. Blaine would never hit him. He was sure of that.

Would he leave? Maybe. That was the worse thing that John could think of. He needed Blaine. He needed to be Blaine's girl. That meant as much as being on the show...

... the show...

What if Blaine freaked out or just walked away?

What would happen to the show?

Would Blaine tell everyone that Bebe was a freak? Maybe. Probably. But it was a chance that John needed to take.

He had to.

He had to.

"Fifty percent a boy, fifty percent a girl," John muttered into the mirror, quietly, "and one hundred percent in love." His lip quivered and his eyes watered. "I hope he understands."

He hung his head and wiped his eyes, then returned his gaze to the mirror. "I love you Blaine. Please, please, please understand that I never meant to be dishonest with you."

He heard a shower turn on and it made him jump. He checked the clock. Nearly 7:30. That would be Ed. He had a 10:30 call this morning. He was getting ready.

Ed.

John loved Ed like he loved no one else in his life. He'd loved him as a friend, he'd loved him as a colleague and, now, he loved him as a father figure. Ed's metamorphosis was almost as extreme as John's.

No matter what happened with Blaine, today, Ed was going to be mad at Him. No question about that.

Why had things become so complicated? It wasn't fair!

It wasn't fair!? If that didn't sound like the rankings of a fourteen year old girl, nothing did.

Ok. Today's order of business.

1. Get dressed.
2. Do hair and makeup
3. Make sure you look as pretty as possible.
4. Spend time with Ed before he left.
5. Tell Ed how much you love him.
6. Stay calm.
7. Have breakfast with Blaine.
8. Tell Blaine.

"Ok," John sighed. "Easy peasy."

"Hey, honey," Ed said as he entered the kitchen. "Look at you, all dressed up on a day you could be sleeping in. New dress? It's very pretty."

John beamed at the attention Ed offered. "I'm taking Blaine to breakfast this morning."

"You're taking Blaine? You mean you're going to go to his house and get him?"

"No," John laughed. "He's taking an Uber here. We're going to walk to Max's Place."

"Where's that?"

"Umm... a block and a half down and one over. Not far."

"Sounds romantic," Ed teased as he kissed John's head. "I wish I could stay and talk, but I have a breakfast meeting to get to. Remember, Oscar is picking you and Rosie up at 11:15 to go to the airport and meet the girls."

"Oh!?" John had not heard this. "I thought that Rose was driving the Tesla."

"Nope. Change of plans. When this meeting came up and you mentioned that Blaine might go with you, we figured that you guys needed a bigger car. I hired a full sized limo. That should impress the girls, don't you think?"

"For sure!" John laughed.

"Ok, baby, I have to go." He kissed John, again and headed for the door.

""Uncle Ed?" John said, just as Ed opened the door. Ed turned and waited. "Umm, I just wanted to say thank you."

"For?"

"For everything," John shrugged. "For being there for me. I couldn't do all this without you, and... well... I really appreciate it."

Ed walked back into the room and hugged his niece. "Bebe. You don't need to thank me. I'm happy to be here for you. And do you know why?"

"Because you love me," John giggled as he snuggled into Ed's chest. He smelled like Ivory soap and shaving cream. "I love you, too, Uncle Ed. I really do. I just need you to know that."

"You just need...? Hey..." Ed pulled Bebe away from him and looked at her face. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything's great. I just... Well, I know I don't always make things easy for you. I just need you to know that - I love you. I really do."

"I know, Beebs, I know, but I really need to run." He hugged the child tightly one more time. "Have fun with Blaine and the girls. Rosie will probably sleep a little late. She was up past midnight getting things ready for your guests. Tell her I love her, when she wakes up." He waved and the door closed behind him.

John stared at the closed door. He took a deep, shaky breath and whispered, "Please don't be mad at me."

At 9:03, Blaine's text appeared on John's phone. 'HERE.'

John replied, 'BE RIGHT DOWN. ROSE IS STILL ASLEEP.'

Outside, John skipped out of the door and hugged Blaine.

"Good morning, Bebe!" Blaine was surprise by how happy Bebe was to see him. "How can you look this pretty this early in the morning!?"

John laughed. "Lots of hard work. I got up at 6:00 to get ready."

"Why!?" Blaine laughed, shocked that she would do this.

"Because I want to be pretty for you."

They walked hand and hand to the restaurant, talking about school, Blaine's team and the show all the way. Blaine told funny stories about how his mom kept telling people that she'd been to Don Ferry's house; she was still riding high about that.

The restaurant was busy, but they didn't have to wait long. Their waitress made a big deal out of the fact that this was 'the kids' first breakfast-date. Blaine had the 'Three Egg Western Omelet' while John had a Belgian waffle with fresh strawberries and homemade whipped cream.

Both enjoyed the food, the waitress and each other.

When they were finished, the waitress kissed them both goodbye at the door and told them that they'd better be back soon, or they were in trouble!

They started walking back, but the conversation became sparse, then Blaine finally said, "Bebe? Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

John sighed. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew that he had to. He nodded.

"Blaine," he stared. "I... well, you know how I feel about you, right?"

The boy smiled. "I do."

"Ok... well, I... Oh geez..." he spotted a bench just ahead. "Let's sit down for a few minutes."

They sat and looked at each other.

Finally John said, "Blaine... do you love me?"

"Of course I do, Bebe."

John sighed and a tear rolled down his cheek. "Ok... please... after I tell you this... please... still love me..."
 
 
To Be Continued...