All righty, guys! Part four is in the house! Just got a few things to note it before we officially start though… First, I had a bit of trouble figuring out the layout of the Seville house. I re-watched several Chipmunk re-runs, specifically the episodes I thought showed the building's overall architectural design, but realized there is no one set layout. In one episode it was painted bright pink, in another it was buttery yellow, more than once it was pure white with green trim, but most the time, it was white with red trim. Sometimes the kitchen was open, sometimes it was closed, and occasionally it was part way open with those cool saloon style swinging doors. I never decided on one of these designs, choosing instead to take the aspect(s) I liked from each and going from there. So, when you don't recognize the house, don't be surprised. That was how I planned it to be.

Lastly, this is the part where the story gets a little… skeptical. Suggestive, if you will. If you're either under the age of 13 or one of those people that get riled up about everything (you know who you are) leave this page right now. Maybe go grab yourself a Popsicle. Because if you keep reading and don't like what you see, it's no longer my fault. I've given you your warning; this is my disclaimer.

"Oh, good, you're here," Jeanette panted as she came to a halt in front of Blue Clad. "Where's Alvin?"

"Went home. He's convinced he's gonna 'prove to Brittany' that he doesn't care about her." He looked between Jeanette and the clearing in the woods. "You're sure she'd be here?" Blue Clad asked as he entered the lakeshore, the same lakeshore they had stopped at earlier in the day, breaking twigs off the undergrowth as he stepped.

"This is where she always goes when she wants to be alone," Jeanette reassured, following her complement into the glade.

"But she went in the other direction!" contested Blue Clad.

"So? She was probably just grabbing something from home."

"Like what?"

"Last time we found her here; she had a razor blade, and was cutting her wrist."

Blue Clad flinched when he heard this. "When was that?"

"Last year- the same day she found out Alvin's dating Charlene."


"It's just… well, what am I supposed to do?"

Brittany blinked a few times, clearly thrown off-guard by this question. It had been the day before the big lunchroom divulgence, and she and Alvin were standing alone in the stretch of woodlands that divided the high school they attended from the subdivision they lived. Neither knew quite what to say to the other, so they just stood there uncomfortably, not really saying anything. "I don't know," Brittany finally mused. "What do you wanna do?"

"Well…" Alvin thought, "would you mind if I said no?" A sad and dejected look flashed across Brittany's face. "It's just, I have Charlene and all, and-"

"Didn't you want me before?" she interrupted mid-sentence.

"Well, I did, but things happened, and now you're just… no."

"No?"

"No…" He paused. "I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's fine."

"Did you expect me to…?"

"No. Nothing. I just wanted to tell you. To be 'honest' for once…" Her eyes began to mist, so she immediately closed them and smiled weakly. "I'm sure it was pathetically obvious."

"Yeah," he laughed. "It really was."


The trail ended abruptly, breaking into a small suburb. Brittany seemed to know exactly where she was going, because she didn't hesitate at forest's edge to cut through someone's backyard, head left and continue on her venture. Unlike Alvin, she kept a steady pace as she walked, not trying to run from her problems, but instead enduring them. With each passing step, another mocking jab would come from the little voice inside her head, and she did nothing in attempt to stop it. "Can someone who lives hundreds of miles away … really matter more to you then me?"

"Yes," he had said. "I just can't think of anything that involves you…"

"Didn't you want me before?" she had asked.

"No," was how he had put it. "I try to do something nice for you, and I wind up regretting it later!" She sniveled at the mere thought.

Following the main road down another block, she soon found herself standing before a large, two-story colonial house in the middle of the subdivision. In many ways, it looked exactly like the homes to either side, with the same glossy white paint job and scarlet red roof, but had considerably more shrubbery and foliage about the front yard. Blossoming lilac bushes, blooming daylilies and a somewhat dying dogwood tree greeted her with fake happiness and forced smiles. Choosing to ignore all this, she trudged up the driveway, knocked on the fake wooden paneling that acted as the doorway's casing, and waited for the boy in the emerald polo, Theodore, to answer the door. "Oh. Brittany. Alvin's not home."

"Please… help me," she mustered, her gaze now locked on the threshold separating them from each other.

"Sure. Come on in," shrugged Theodore. He gestured for her to enter, and set Brittany down on the living room sofa while he went in the kitchen to put some water on to boil. He wasn't leaving her alone, for the kitchen was a tiled island, separated from the lounge only by carpeting and four foot cabinets. "So, you and Alvin have another fight?"

"N-no. I mean we…" she started, stuttering.

"You're gonna make this difficult, aren't you?" Theodore asked once he had given her a moment to collect herself. "You really caught me off guard, you know? What do you want me to do?"

"You said he was crazy about me!" she accused.

Theodore grimaced. "Whoops…?"

"He knows now! We're never gonna be the same ever again!" she wailed. "He hates me so much… Please, Theodore! Please help me!" howled Brittany. "Theodore…" she calmed herself, wiping her eyes on her fuchsia over shirt, "you're always so willing to talk to me. I know you can make me feel better… I just don't know what to do…"

"Well, I'm here for you while you figure that one out," he assured, returning from the kitchen and handing her a large mug of hot chocolate, encouraging her to take a sip. She did, but only to please him. It was better than she had anticipated. His cleaver use of chocolate curls as garnishes to decorate the whipped cream, the intriguing mixture of peppermint and vanilla extracts, even the hint of milk he had added to the "just add water" packet made the refreshment extra special.

Special. She liked the way that word sounded. He's made something special for me. He's done something special for me…

Brittany took another large gulp of hot cocoa, smiled in approval, and waited for Theodore to do the same. Joining her on the couch, he put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Thank you… You don't know how much that means to me… I just really need somebody right now," she murmured, returning to her thoughts.

as if I deserve it… As if I'm worthy… As if I'm special too…

"Hey, I know something fun we can do," Theodore suddenly interrupted her reflective daze. "Let's play some Mario Kart®!" Brittany's only response was a blank stare. "I'm sure I'm way better than you," he added, knowing full well her love for Alvin was compensated only by her more competitive nature. "Come on," he encouraged. "It'll distract you."

Brittany couldn't help herself. She just had to grin. "I don't have to prove anything to you, but alright."

She followed him up the stairwell and down another hall in silence. "Just give me a second to get the Wii® set up," he said once they were safely tucked inside the cinnamon scented sanctuary Theodore fondly referred to as his bedroom. Fiddling with a television and a small white game system, Theodore took the time to quietly congratulate himself on his inspirational genius. Distracting Brittany was, as far as he was concerned, one of the best ideas he had ever had. When he turned back around though, Brittany was sprawled atop his bed, sobbing into his pillow. "…Or we could cry some more…"

By four o'clock, Brittany was still crying, by four thirty, Theodore had her laughing over some humorous childhood stories, and at five fifteen, he was back in the kitchen preparing a homemade pizza for two. He returned to his bedroom with lunch about half an hour later, where he found Brittany cuddling with an old security blanket, silent sobs gently racking her body. It took him until about six ten to get Brittany calm enough to safely leave her unattended, at which point he went to the other side of the room to call Miss Miller, her legal guardian. "Hey. Yeah, Brittany's safe. She's been studying with me and is asleep on the couch," Theodore lied. "Don't worry. She's fine. Just wanted to let you know." He hung up the phone and turned back to Brittany. "Dave'll be out late, so you're safe if you decide to stay. Miss Miller's okay with you hanging out a bit longer, unless of course you want to go home."

"Nghh…"

"Wow. You're a wreck, Brittany," Theodore said, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand. "But you did good. You talked, you vented, even if that did mean crying your eyes out… Doesn't that make you feel even a little bit better?""Yeah…"

"I do hope I helped. I really had fun having you around. I'm glad you trusted me enough to turn to me. Whether you like it or not, people love you, Brittany. Like, a lot." Although he couldn't see it, from beneath the confinement of the bed sheets, Brittany was beginning to hyperventilate. "If you think you're all alone in this, you're seriously mistaken. You'll always have people like Eleanor and Jeanette to knock you back into shape."

"W-what about you? Will you- you know…"

"'Course Brittany. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, you'll always have me."

"Theodore…" She threw her blankets to the side and sat up, forcing him to meet her eyes. They were the color of diamonds. They were so pale in fact, one could easily mistake them for white; although if you looked hard enough it was clear they were actually a pale blue. Her eyes would often frighten the people that beheld them, for they were young and attractive, yet aged and withered, having seen more pain and suffering than ever needed. Yes, there was a lot going on behind those eyes: depression, desperation, hurt, need, love, lust…

Her face was now inches from his, her warm breath nuzzling against his cheek, which was flushing with embarrassment. Brittany leaned into him, closing the distance between her body and his own. Upon first contact, Theodore's mind went blank, unable to register anything other than the soft feeling of his lips against hers, and it took him a moment to realize that he should be doing more than just sitting there, so he cautiously began to respond. Inching his tongue forward, he gently started to massage her lower lip while slowly forcing her mouth open, proceeding to explore the inside. It was sweet, it was tart, it was wet, it was slimy, it was many different things, none of which he had expected. But even so, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it very much. Theodore was more than content with taking the time to simply enjoy the new sensations and emotions this kiss had unleashed.

"Mmmm," he moaned. Quickly he eased back into relaxation, and went in for another once their bodies were pried apart. Pushing him away, Brittany began to lavish her attention along Theodore's collar bone, nipping, licking, kissing and sucking at the skin there, gradually forcing him to recline on the bed as she straddled his chest. Coming down to join him, she pulled the ribbon binding her ponytail, allowing her auburn hair to cascade down her shoulder blades and curtain them from the outside world.

"Hah… Aaa… Aah…" they panted between kisses. Theodore could feel himself getting hard, knocking himself against Brittany's leg through his shorts. Praying she didn't notice, he returned for more kisses, as Brittany brushed his lips with the "one second" sign. She slid out of both her over and under shirts, then began to fiddle with the clasp on the back of her bra.

"Wait! Stop! Hold it! Seriously, this is way too much," Theodore warned.

"Why? What's wrong with me?" gasped Brittany, who quit playing with her clothes.

"Absolutely nothing! You just don't realize how sexual you're being! Brittany, you're not yourself. You will regret it, I promise you!"

She leaned forward, pushing him back on the bed. "I lost Alvin. I can't lose you, too. Won't doing this make you stay?"

"I can't go too far… I can't… Brittany, I can't! I can't hurt you!"

Her lips drove toward his ear. "You won't… I promise… I need you… I can't lose you, too… Please, Theodore…"

"You're not thinking straight…"

"Please Theodore…" she seduced. "Just one more kiss… Just one more small, innocent kiss…"