Together Again

"Way to look all awkward," Whitney commented, about fifteen feet from the newest arrival.

After rejoining Lacey and Ramsey in the Strattons' suite, the blonde had received a message on her phone. A slightly surprising early addition stood in the lobby, not sure where to go. Thus, delaying her already behind arrival with the most in-demand hairstylist in the city, Whitney went to meet the breathtaking brunette.

"I do feel awkward," Skye admitted, her face showing relief at Whitney's appearance. "But it's less than if I stayed with the others."

"I hear that. Meeting Finn's grandparents after everything that went down with his dad would be weird. I'm not sure how you introduce yourself. Still, look on the bright side; breaking up with Fred meant you don't have to worry about visiting his mother down in retirement land someday. Now that woman is something else," Whitney revealed, chuckling.

"I wouldn't know. Fred never said much about his extended family. That evasiveness screams red flags in hindsight," Skye admitted, feeling more the fool.

"That's in the past. Look to the future for fun," Whitney stated. Then, motioning Skye forward, the teen headed for the front desk.

"Whitney!" Skye attempted to hiss quietly. "I don't have a reservation."

That had been the more recent reason why the restaurant hostess/model stood around uncomfortably in the hotel lobby. It had taken a lot of pleading to convince Peyton to drop her off at the Witzler. Although she understood why Skye didn't want to go with to see the Banks, the coed also hadn't been high on being left alone in the car with Nate. That's even with the short distance to meet Finn and Lana at Diamond Manor.

Once Skye managed to extract herself away from the bickering family friends, she'd been hit by the realization that Fred had reserved a room for them. Fortunately, Whitney saw her message immediately. Still, while waiting, she'd already heard the front desk clerk turn away one prospective guest in person and another on the phone. Not to mention, Skye really couldn't afford to pay for a room by herself in such an upscale place.

"Don't worry about it. The Pierces are like family...well, a dysfunctional family if you count most everyone but Uncle Dalton's side, but whatever." Whitney's face lit up as the clerk turned to face her. "Happy Holidays again, Kenta. Could I have an additional key card?"

Skye watched in disbelief as, just like that, Whitney secured an additional key card. Turning around afterward, the teen handed it over to the surprised young woman.

"Take this to the top floor. We're in a Penthouse Suite," Whitney explained, adding the room number. "Leave the room on the right for my dad, and take the room to your left that doesn't have my stuff tossed inside."

"Wh-Whitney, I can't thank--"

"As I said, stop worrying about it. Rammy and Lacey bailed on me, so it's cool that you're taking the spare bedroom," Whitney said, marching over toward the elevator.

Snapping her fingers caused a handsome young man to shove out his arm to keep the door from closing. A gesture that didn't appear to go over well with the young woman at his side.

"Third floor, please," Whitney instructed the young man. Then, assuming her command would be followed, the teen began listing where Skye should go after dropping her bags off.

"Thank you," the brunette with blonde highlights said to the young man after he pushed the button for Whitney. Skye memorized both room numbers as Whitney rattled off more information.

"And this is my floor. Don't take too long," Whitney remarked, speed-walking off the elevator.

Not wanting to waste another second, Whitney just knew that Caterina had snagged Donatello with her delay. Hurrying down the hallway, she took a hard right turn, nearly knocking over a pair of elderly guests. Reaching the business suite that had been set aside, Whitney impatiently used the keycard.

"Whoa," the hard-to-impress teen uttered.

The inside of the suite had been transformed into a makeshift hair salon. All the furniture, besides a small loveseat, had been removed. In their place, four small desks with mirrors filled the suite's sitting area. Whitney assumed that one, if not both, bedrooms looked the same.

I'm going to have to hug Uncle Dalton extra tight when I see him. He really went all out!

"Uh-oh, looks like you lost the game of musical chairs," Lacey teased. The petite redhead sat at the desk closest to the door. A beautician stood behind her, beginning to transform her hair into something magical for New Year's Eve.

"Whitney!" Cat shrieked.

Jumping out of her chair, the bottle blonde ignored her hairstylist's complaints. Zigzagging around the other people in the room, the cheerleader co-captain launched herself into her captain.

"I'm fine, Cat," Whitney reassured. Of all her other friends' reactions, she'd least expected the toughest of them to show such affection. "But I won't be if you don't stop squeezing me."

"Oh, sorry," the usually bitchy girl apologized.

"Hey, Whit, how are you feeling?" Kaitlin inquired, moving around Cat to add her own hug.

"Didn't Lace fill you in?"

"She and Ramsey did," Roxanne confirmed. The good girl of the squad had at least waited to ask her stylist if she could take a break politely. "We were so worried about you, Cappy."

Always surveying her surroundings, Whitney returned the hug to her third teammate while scanning the room. Funny, where's Donatello?

"Signorina! Signorina, I'm not finished yet!" A voice exclaimed from one of the bedrooms.

The reason for the commotion became evident as a fourth cheerleader barreled into the sitting area. Tears already began to stream down the girl's cheeks as she knocked Cat out of the way.

"Whitney!"

"Oomph!" the cheer captain sounded as the air got knocked out of her. That's even after bracing herself for the joyful attack.

"Ithoughtyoudied! Areyougoingtomakeit? Willtherebeanyscars?" Yumi rattled off, sobbing the entire time.

"Huh?" Whitney questioned. Glancing around for help, she found it as Kaitlin translated the superspeed talk. "Nope, no scars for me. Sean's probably going to have a few from the damage to his leg and foot."

"What? No one told me that!" Lacey perked up.

"He'll be fine. Nothing but a few scars to point out years from now while he brags about saving Whitney," Bridget informed. Coming out of one of the bedrooms, she'd followed a man in his mid-thirties.

"Bellissima! You are safe, no?"

"I'm doing better, Donatello," Whitney replied, hugging her favorite hairstylist before air kisses to each cheek.

"My staff and I were horrified to hear of your near tragedy. Such beauty and grace leaving the world would be cataclysmic."

"And a major dent to his wallet," Ramsey mumbled, standing behind Bridget.

"If you're ever looking for a story to piss off Whitney, try a feature on him," Bridget hinted, nodding to Donatello. "Ask how a fourth-generation American has such a thick accent."

"He's a fraud?"

"No. Think more like playing a character," Bridget chuckled, recalling an incident from several years back. "My little sister is banned from his salon. She dropped that bit of knowledge while in an argument. Best not say my maiden name around him."

"Wow," Ramsey sounded. Although it didn't seem like a newsworthy subject, as Donatello wasn't actually doing anything wrong, it could be a fun way to scare Whitney.

"So I'm ready for you to perform your magic," Whitney declared.

"Sadly, you must wait, my muse. I found myself an interim project," Donatello informed, already turning around. Heading back to the bedroom, he motioned for Yumi. "Come, Signorina. We must finish."

"It's okay. Go. Whitney will be here all night," Kaitlin reminded.

"Okay," Yumi sniffled before hugging her captain again.

The blonde center of attention waited until Yumi left the room before starting her complaining.

"How the hell did Yumi steal Donatello? I thought it'd be you, slut."

"Shit, I did too. But he saw Yumi and freaked out. Called her his new muse," Caterina recounted, the anger clear on her face. "And good to see you too, rich bitch."

Watching the two friends trade insults reminded Bridget of her high school days. Well, for Tinny, those days haven't ended. I'll need to think of a good putdown for when I call her later. Chuckling, the blonde doctor made her way toward the door.

"I'll see you all a little later."

"Where are you going?" Whitney challenged.

"To start getting ready. You're not the only one who needs to do her hair."

"Do your--what the hell do you think this is for?" the teenager demanded, throwing her hands out to motion all around her.

"Oh, I don't need to waste your father's money. My hair only needs some slight curling," Bridget said dismissively. "Besides, this is more a thing for you, younger girls."

"First, no money my dad spends on you is ever wasted. Got that?" Whitney questioned. "Second, there is no way in hell that I'm letting you do your own hair. This night is about one of your best friends."

"And my mom and Aunt Gabby are in the other room getting their hair done," Lacey chimed in.

"See? This isn't just for the younger girls. Now get your butt back inside," Whitney ordered, pleased that the tables had turned.

"Look, I don't want to be a bother--"

"Listen up, people. This woman is Dr. Bridget Tarver. Her son saved my life the other day, and she helped care for me. Would it be a bother to curl her hair?"

The salon staff members all vigorously shook their heads.

"I'm just about done, Dr. Tarver," Roxie announced, sitting back down.

"Yes, give us five, ten minutes tops," the stylist standing behind the teen estimated.

"Who's the boss now, Bridget?" Whitney pointed her finger at the empty loveseat.

---

"You put that down right this instance," Lana ordered, hands on her hips. "I'll handle that and the other ones."

"I'm not that old, young lady."

"I would never call you that, Grandpa B, but you should save your energy. It's going to be a long night," the redhead pointed out to Finn's grandfather. Taking the box out of his hands, Lana carried it outside to the car.

"Such a sweet, caring girl. Knows who to butter up to. You should fix whatever you screwed up, kid," Mr. Bank told his grandson for the seemingly millionth time. "Takes after her mother. Be a good one for your great-grandmother's ring."

"Sure, Grandpa, keep telling yourself that," Finn replied.

Having exited the bathroom in time to hear Lana's order, Peyton imagined Finn's eyes rolling. The Banks' home seemed to have a magical effect on Lana whenever she walked through its doors. Her teasing, sultry attitude, with snarky comments, vanished, replaced by a sweet, helpful young lady that none of her friends recognized. Finn's grandfather never failed to fall for the act, while his grandmother knew better.

"Nothing wrong with chasing after her again, Finley. Delightful girls with curves are worth it."

"And I'll take that box outside," Finn announced, fleeing the matchmaking pressure.

Peyton did so as well, returning to the kitchen. Barely inside, she screeched to a halt. Before she could back out of the room, Nate spotted her.

"Peyton, look at what Grammy B pulled out."

Eyes narrowing at the shit-eating grin on Nate's face, Peyton held her tongue as Mrs. Bank glanced up from the photo album. Although she knew what must be coming next, Peyton adored Finn's grandmother and could never say no to her.

"Nathan's been going on and on about how he just hates the distance between you two. That reminded me of the cutest pictures. Come here, dear," the older woman gestured.

"Yeah, come here, Pey," Nate scooted his chair over, making room in front of the open picture book. If Peyton had heat vision, his patting hand would've burned to a crisp from her glare.

"We've been spending days rummaging through Cassandra's albums. Lord, did that girl lead to endless bills at the photo lab. Well, at least until she set up her very own darkroom in the basement," Mrs. Bank laughed wistfully. Leaving her finger under one page, she turned several pages back. "I believe this was around your first birthdays."

As expected, Peyton saw two snapshots of herself, Lana, Finn, and Nate. The first showed Lana holding her hand out for Peyton's sippy cup. The second showed Lana handing over the sippy cup to Finn. In both pictures, Nate could be seen in the background staring at Peyton with a dopey grin on his face.

"It was always the cutest thing. I remember Bridget and Tinsley crying tears of laughter at how Nathan's face turned to awe whenever he saw you," Mrs. Bank recounted to Peyton. "He'd offer Finn a toy and drag Lana off to play, but with you, he'd just sit there and watch with that big grin."

"Yes, I've heard these stories many times," Peyton replied, holding back her sarcasm. "Between Lana and Nate, I'm just lucky that Finn lacks any jealousy. Those two are enough."

"What a wonderful setup for the next one!" Grammy B laughed, turning back to the page she'd saved.

"You see, darling. I've only ever had eyes for you," Nate drawled.

The final photograph showed the foursome in their terrible twos. Lying on his stomach, Finn studied a picture book intently. Standing next to him, Lana hugged Nate, but his eyes were focused on the side of Finn, where Peyton leaned down to study the picture book.

"More like you started stalking me from the start."

"Peyton!" Mrs. Bank admonished, lightly slapping the younger woman's arm. Still, the sweet grandmother winked over at Nate.

"Do you see, Grammy B? She's always so hurtful with her rejections. Did you and Grandpa B deal with this issue while courting?" Nate asked

"Court--who talks like--No, I'm not playing this game any longer. Do you hear me, Nathan Toone? Do you?" Peyton challenged, standing up with her hands on her hips.

"Feisty, isn't she, Grammy B?"

"You two are plain adorable together," the older woman chuckled. "Dear, if you and Finn don't end up together, Nathan is a fine fallback choice."

"Fallback? I'm no one's backup plan."

"Sorry, Grammy. Finn and I are never happening," Peyton gently let the grandmother down.

"It would make your mother a thrilled woman, dear."

"What about my mom's feelings?" Nate questioned.

"She's used to you disappointing her," Peyton remarked.

"And Aunt Bridget is tired of you being so uptight."

"Aw, the thin line between love and hate," Mr. Bank remarked, entering the room.

"Don't you start too!" Peyton warned, pointing her finger at him.

"So much like her mother. Always the bossy one," Mr. Bank commented before noticing the items spread out on the kitchen table. "Oh, no! No photo albums. We need to get moving before we end up late."

"We have plenty of time, dear. And you know that Peyton does not take after her mother," Mrs. Bank reminded.

"Well, she's not as polite as Rachel's little girl."

"You're talking about Lacey, right, Grandpa?" Finn inquired as he walked inside with Lana. "Because you're sure as hel--heck aren't talking about Lana."

"Of course, I'm talking about this sweetheart," Mr. Bank declared, throwing his arm around the preening redhead.

"No, I never had any issues when he courted me," Grammy B stated to Nate. "He's too gullible."

---

"Seriously, what is taking so damn long?" Whitney complained once again. "At this rate, Rory is gonna show up and steal Donatello away."

"I thought you girls were missing one," Bridget commented. "Where is Aurora?"

"Grounded," Kaitlin replied before realizing how that sounded. "Oh, that doesn't mean she's not coming tonight."

"No, it means that her dad won't allow her to show up early," Roxanne finished explaining.

"Finally!" Whitney exclaimed, jumping off the loveseat. However, she stopped when the newly returned Yumi shook her head.

"Donnie said that you have to wait. He needs to use the bathroom for a few minutes."

"Great," Whitney moaned, plopping back down on the sofa. "With my luck, he's got food poisoning."

"I think it's more like we're all going to be done by then. So you'll be all alone," Cat teased, knowing how much Whitney hated not having an audience.

"Oh, she won't be alone. The sophomores should be here soon," Lacey revealed. "Or at least our little cheersisters."

"Are any juniors coming tonight?" Roxie inquired.

As the gossiper of the seniors, Kaitlin shrugged.

"I don't have a little cheersister," Yumi commented.

That caused concerned looks around the room. The squad knew what might come next.

"You know why," Cat said, way more dismissively than she should've spoken. It only served to depress her old friend more.

"But it makes me sad."

"Look, Rory doesn't have a little cheersister either," Roxie pointed out.

"And it's only because you two are new to the squad this year," Lacey reminded.

"But, it makes me feel lonely," Yumi cried with the actual waterworks starting.

"This is why we wait until the last minute for her makeup," Caterina reminded Kaitlin.

"Cat!" Lacey admonished. With her hair still being styled, the petite redhead gestured for Roxie to console their upset teammate.

"What, shortstuff?" Cat challenged. "I'm the one who basically has two little cheersisters to watch over."

The co-captain referred to both her sophomore charge and Yumi. Considering that her mother, Valentina, had taken Yumi's mom, Felicity, under her wing in high school, it had been expected that Caterina would do the same. Although she complained, Cat's protectiveness of her ditzy friend meant that she'd never trust the role to anyone else. Still, Kaitlin often seemed to share the responsibility.

"Hey, it's not a reward or something," Kaitlin stated. "I'm stuck dealing with my actual little sister. I'll gladly hand off the little brat to you for the second semester."

"Really?" Yumi perked up.

"No, she's not serious," Whitney interrupted, shooting a dirty look at the brunette. "Katie is not allowed to pass off her sister."

"It does happen," Bridget said, deciding to butt into the conversation. Off in the hallway, a recently finished Rachel nodded. "Alexis Laffont, you know Olena's mother--"

A chorus of groans and boos filled the room.

"Sorry! Well, Alexis pretty much abandoned her duties as a big cheersister. So it fell on the rest of us to pick up the slack. Do you know who that sophomore was?"

Yumi shook her head no.

"Shayla, Delilah's mom. And it certainly didn't hurt Shayla," Bridget recounted.

"If anything, it helped her," Rachel added. "She learned a little bit from each of us."

"And that paid off when she succeeded me as captain," Bridget finished. "So, do you understand why you shouldn't feel sad?"

"Because I can be cheer captain someday?"

"Uh, no, Yumi. You're already a senior. I meant that you have all your friends as your cheersisters. So you should never feel lonely," Bridget pointed out.

Watching Yumi's face light up with delight, Whitney realized how much better Bridget and Rachel were as captains. Dammit, I'm failing at my job. Perhaps I should ask them for some tips. Without anyone else knowing, of course.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Oh, that's probably Skye. Sure took her time getting down here," Whitney remarked, realizing that she had forgotten about the older woman.

"Come on in," Rachel greeted upon opening the door. "Terrific to see that my daughter didn't scare you off."

"Nope. I ended up driving with Peyton and Nate."

"How bad?" Bridget asked Skye.

"I found their bickering amusing."

"Rory!" Yumi shrieked.

The other cheerleaders noticed the second person who entered the room behind Skye and cheered her name. Blushing at the attention, Aurora waved back.

"We realized that we both were looking for the same room," Skye explained their arrival together.

"Did you escape from jail again?" Kaitlin teased.

"Kinda. My mom marched me right past my dad, telling him that she'd be back soon to bring him here. He grumbled the whole time I put on my shoes and coat."

"That's our Miranda," Gabby stated, walking into the sitting area.

"Are Delilah and Beyza with you?" Whitney asked.

"Um, no. I didn't want to bring them here uninvited."

"Look at this setup," Whitney said, motioning around the room. "My dad is covering the cost, and he doesn't care. So tell them to get their asses over here."

"I'm not sure that's exactly how your dad put it," Bridget recalled. Used to Whitney's ways, Rachel shook her head while Gabby found it hilarious.

"Bellissima, I'm ready--Good God!" Donatello exclaimed, dropping his accent for a moment. Then, approaching Skye, he reached for her hands. "From what enchanted land have you come?"

"Uh, the south side of town."

"No! Why has your beauty never graced my presence before?" the hairstylist demanded to know.

"Um, you're kind of expensive," Skye responded embarrassingly.

"Skye's an up-and-coming model!" Whitney chimed in.

"I have no doubt that you will be a star," Donatello proclaimed. "No other person shall ever touch your hair again. For Donatello will only charge you half his rate!"

"Half?" Skye repeated in disbelief.

The salon owner misunderstood the question.

"No, for you it shall only be a third! For I have found my new muse. Come, bellissima. It is time to make you the belle of the ball."

Skye giggled as the hairstylist pulled her out of the sitting area.

"Wha--wait, new muse? I'm your muse, Donatello!" Whitney yelled. "I need my hair done."

"Kristoff shall do it," came the reply from the bedroom.

"I don't want Kristoff!" Whitney screamed. Glancing to the side, she added, "No offense, Kristoff. Dammit, Donatello, my dad is paying you! I could be dead, you know!"

"This seems like a good time to go get dressed. Anyone else leaving?" Bridget asked, getting several nods in agreement.