"Look, why is she here?" Jessie whispered to Avery.

"Her mouth is open!"

"Shhhh. You'll wake her. She looks funny when she's asleep." Jessie leaned over the sleeping girl.

Avie giggled. "Let's get her up."

"No, I have an idea." Jessica went into the kitchen and returned with a can of whip cream. "I saw this on 'Salute Your Shorts' once." She gently turned Leigh-Ann's hand over and sprayed it with whip cream. She grabbed a stray feather sticking out of one of the pillows on the couch. "Now watch this Avie." She placed the feather near Leigh-Ann's nose and began to tickle it.

"What's supposed to happen?"

"Just wait."

Slowly, Leigh-Ann began to twitch her nose. She raised the whip cream covered hand to her face. Suddenly, a hand from behind the two girls pushed Leigh-Ann's arm back down to her side.

"And what do you think you are doing?"

Stunned, Jessica and Avery jumped away from Leigh-Ann and saw Taylor hovering over them.

"Nothing," Jessie shot back.

The noise startled Leigh-Ann who quickly sat up. "What the..." Taylor lost his grip on her arm and Leigh-Ann unwitingly slapped her hand on her forhead, smothering the whip cream all over her face and hair. "Augh! What is this!"

Jessie and Avery stood completely still, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"You guys! That was so mean!" Taylor yelled. "Go get some paper towels."

Not wanting to upset their brother any more, they ran into the kitchen and retrieved the towels. Taylor scrubbed the cream off of Leigh's face. "I am so sorry about that."

"Sorry, Leigh-Ann. It was just a joke." Jessie said softly.

By then, Leigh-Ann had gathered her senses and started to wipe the whip cream out of her hair. "That's okay," she sighed.

"Just go away guys."

"Does Mom know she's here?"

"Just go away, Jessie."

Jessica sighed and grabbed Avery. "If Mom doesn't know she's here then you're gonna be in trouble."

Taylor glared at her and pointed towards the kitchen. "Go!"

Jessie stuck her tongue out and pulled Avery out of the room. Leigh-Ann wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and stood up. "I need to take a shower."

Still slumped on the couch, Tay playfully pulled at the blanket. It ripped off of Leigh-Ann's shoulders and landed on the floor. "Oops," was all Taylor could say when he saw that she was only wearing a T-shirt and underwear.

"Oh, my God!" A gasp came from the other side of the room. Taylor jumped when he saw his mother standing in the hallway entrance to the living room. Stunned, it took Leigh-Ann a second to gather herself and grab the blanket that was lying on the ground. She quickly covered herself. Taylor's eyes flashed from his mother, then to a embarrased Leigh-Ann and then to himself. He realized that all he was wearing was a T-shirt and boxers. He was covered up, but the whole situation didn't make for a pretty picture.

"This is not what it looks like," Taylor blurted.

"Oh, it better not be!" His mother sluggishly walked over to the two teenagers. "What in the world is going on here?"

"Leigh was, um, she had to..."

"I stayed the night, I mean..."

"No, well, yes, she was on the couch and I..."

"He came with the whip cream and, no, I mean Jessie and the whip cream..."

"Which was all over her hair and I rubbed it off..."

"With a towel! With a towel! And I had a blanket because..."

"I gave it to her last night..."

"It was hot so I took off my pants..."

"But I wasn't there!"

"Oh, no he wasn't there, but then the blanket fell..."

"It was an accident..."

"And you walked in..."

"And that's it."

"That's it."

"I think I need to sit down." Mrs. Hanson leaned back onto the couch. "Why did you stay here last night?"

"Um..." Before she could say anymore the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Taylor shouted, glad to get away from the situation. He ran to the door and opened it slightly. The person on the other side pushed his way through, nearly knocking Taylor into the wall.

"Where is she?" Mr. Miller, Leigh-Ann's father barged into the house. He noticed the stunned boy behind the door. "Where is my daughter, young man?"

"She's in there," Tay replied as he tentatively pointed towards the living room.

Mr. Miller charged forward and into the living room. "Leigh-Ann Kay Miller, what do you think you are doing?"

Leigh-Ann backed away, startled at her father's raggedy appearance. "I was just..."

"What are you wearing? Put on some clothes! My God, child!" Mr. Miller grabbed her arm.

Mrs. Hanson had managed to push herself off of the couch and make her way to the frantic man. "George, it's alright."

"You know about this? Her mother and I had no idea where she was."

"What?" Taylor pushed his way past his mother and over to Leigh-Ann. "You didn't call them?"

"Call us? Oh, God no. That would be too considerate, wouldn't it. You are grounded, young lady. Do you hear me?!"

Leigh-Ann's eyes welled up with tears. Her cheeks burned and a lump started to form in her throat. She looked like she would burst at any moment. "How dare you," she whispered.

"What?" her father replied.

"How dare you!"

"Leigh, stop..." Taylor tried to sweep his hand across her cheek but she pulled away.

"Don't tell me to stop, Taylor. This doesn't concern you." She pulled her arm from her father's grasp and backed away.

"How dare you talk back to me. You had me up half the night."

"Oh, really! Half the night? Why didn't you call here?! My goodness, Dad, you knew who I was with. But you didn't even bother to check. You probably didn't even notice I was gone until this morning!" By this time tears were streaming down her face.

"That's enough, we're going."

"No! I am not going with you."

The comotion had reached the rest of the house. Mr. Hanson joined his wife in the living room. "What is happening here? George?"

"Walker, I want to know why my daughter slept here last night."

"She what? Taylor, what is going on?"

Taylor looked up at his father. He wanted to explain everything, but his emotions were getting all mixed up inside. He felt a surge of hate peircing through his body. He hated Mr. Miller for hurting Leigh-Ann, and he hated him for grabbing her like he did.

"Dad, I am not leaving. I am not going home, so you can forget it!"

"You are a selfish, ungrateful child."

"George," Walker tried to pull Mr. Miller back.

"Get your hands off me, Walker." Mr. Miller flashed Walker a glare that Taylor had never seen on anyone before. It was full of such rage. "Get your things, Leigh-Ann, we are leaving."

"Didn't I tell you that I wasn't going? Don't you ever listen to me?"

"I've listened enough." Mr. Miller lunged forward and grabbed Leigh-Ann's arm and harshly pulled her towards him. The blanket flew off of her shoulders.

"Let me go!"

Walker grabbed hum and pushed him off of Leigh-Ann. Taylor couldn't stand it anymore. He had never felt so strong or so vengeful. It scared him. He didn't realize what he had done until after Mr. Miller fell to the ground.

"Taylor!" his father yelled.

"What the..." Mr. Miller mumbled.

Leigh-Ann knelt down and helped her father sit up. She glared up at Taylor. "My God, you hit him."

Walker quickly grabbed his son and pulled him into the kitchen. "You stay right here. Do not move, not an inch!" His father left Taylor standing alone, stunned. He could hear the yelling and he could hear Leigh-Ann crying. It seemed to last forever before it all just stopped. His father stepped into the kitchen wearing a muted expression on his face. Taylor didn't quite know what he would do to him, but he stood still, not wanting to move from the spot his father had placed him. Walker gently grasped Taylor's right hand and led him to the sink. It was only then that Taylor realized his fist was bleeding.

"I want you to keep ice on this," Walker said quietly as he washed the blood off his son's hand. "You don't want it to swell."

"Where is Leigh?" Tay whispered.

"She's in the living room with your mother. We're going to call her mom soon."

"But then he'll come back and..."

"He's still here."

"What?!"

Walker motioned for Taylor to quiet down. "He's in the bathroom. I can't let him go, not in the condition he's in."

"Dad, I don't get it. You let him stay?" Taylor pressed a plastic bag full of ice against his burning fist.

"He's drunk, Taylor. I can't let him wander off somewhere."

"What if he hurts her?"

Walker swept his hand through his son's hair and wrapped his arms around him. "Trust me, Taylor. I'm not going to let him hurt anyone." He held on to his son tightly, not wanting to let go. "I love you so much, you know that, right?"

"I know, Dad," Taylor mumbled, confused by his father's actions, but feeling comfortable in his embrace. "I love you too."

"What's going on?" Zac wandered into the living room, his eyes half closed and his hair sticking up on end. "Mommy, I was trying to sleep and there was all this yelling."

"It's alright, honey, you can go back to bed." Diana sat on the couch with her arms around Leigh-Ann, who had calmed down by then.

"What's she doing here?" Zac scrambled up onto the couch next to his mother and stared at the pitiful-looking girl.

"We're just having a little talk. Why don't you go back to bed. It's only 7:00."

"You're telling me to sleep in?"

"Yes, you have permission to sleep as long as you want this morning."

"Oh, that's just fine and dandy, Mom. Why didn't you tell me that before I was wide awake?" Zac made a move for the remote but his mother snatched it away from him before he could press "power." "Mom!"

"Go do something with your brother."

"Which one? The one that slept through all the yelling and would kill me if I even dared to wake him from his precious beauty sleep, or how about the one that barged into the room a few minutes ago ranting about how the world sucks and people suck, or maybe I could hang out with the one that thinks a good time is throwing Aqua Man into the toilet and watching him spin around and around when it gets flushed."

"Cute, Zac. What about your sisters? They're in their room playing."

"No, no, no. I don't want to play Barbie again. Last time they made me be Olympic Skater Barbie and she never gets to go out with Ken. Always Wedding Barbie."

"What about your friend next door?"

"It's 7:00am, who would be up?"

"I don't know, why don't you go back to bed then?"

"Uugh. You know, sometimes I don't think you listen to me." Zac pushed himself off the couch and shuffled into the study room to play NBA All-Stars on his PlayStation alone.

By that afternoon, Mr. Miller had regained enough composure and left the Hanson's house without his daughter.

"I can't believe it's Christmas Eve already," Isaac mumbled in between bites of his burger. "Is Mom making the cookies today or not? I don't see anything out."

Taylor looked up from his magazine. "Um, she said that we have to do it this year."

"Why? She does it with Mackie every year."

"Her exact words were, 'I'm very tired and I'm very pregnant.' So if we want cookies, we're gonna have to do them ourselves."

"That sucks." Isaac tore open a bag of Pringles and dumped them on his plate.

"Hey, don't eat all of that. Anyway, I think it could be fun. We could make really freaky-shaped ones." Taylor leaned across the table and snatched a handful of chips off of Ike's plate.

"Hey, stop it." Isaac slapped Tay's hand. "Where's Leigh-Ann?"

"Ow! That's my hurt hand."

Isaac chuckled. "I can't believe you didn't get reemed by Dad for that. He must have been really out of it for you to be able to knock him down. It was a gutsy move."

"Funny. I can't believe I did it. You know, I always kind of liked Mr. Miller, but he was just acting really crazy, you know?"

"That's what alcohol does to a person."

"You sound as if you're an authority." Taylor blew on his fist, hoping the cool air would stop the burning.

"No, what do you mean?"

"Have you ever gotten drunk?"

"Huh? Taylor, you're with me, like, 24/7." Isaac shoved a pickle into his mouth.

"No I'm not. Well, maybe now that we're on the road and stuff. But before, you use to go to parties. You know, the ones I wasn't invited to."

"That's because you were younger then."

"But there was stuff at the parties, right. Beer and stuff?"

"I mean, yeah. But..."

"So you're saying that you 'just said no' every time."

Isaac nervously shifted in his seat. "I'm not saying that. Yeah, I tried beer and stuff. But that's it. I didn't like the taste. And I wasn't driving or anything so..."

"What's 'and stuff.'" Taylor glared at his brother.

"Tay, come on. I've never done drugs, okay."

"Hey, I didn't say anything!"

"That's what you were insinuating. And I never got drunk."

"Okay. Just asking." Taylor reached over and tried to grab some more chips. Isaac pushed his hand away again.

"Stop it, Tay. Get your own."

"Geez," Taylor mumbled.

"You never answered my question."

"What?"

"Where's Leigh-Ann?"

"She's taking a nap in our room."

"So are we going to make the cookies, or not?" Isaac wiped his greasy hands off and started rummaging through the cabinets for ingredients.

"Yeah, I guess. Sugar cookies?" Tay got up and took down the recipe book.

"Of course, that's what Mom makes every year."

"Where are the shapes for them?"

"Um...in the bottom cabinet next to the dishwasher I think."

"Hey there, peoples." Zac marched into the kitchen wearing a green and red striped T-shirt and a Santa hat.

"Zac, you know Christmas isn't until tomorrow." Tay picked at Zac's atire. "I love the way you wrote 'Zac' on the santa hat. That's just oh, so, cool."

"I made it with glue and glitter. There's still some left over if you want to make one," Zac said proudly.

"Um, no thanks."

"Watcha doing?"

"We are making cookies." Isaac set the huge jar of sugar on the counter. "Wanna help?"

"Oooo, sure."

"Yes!" Tay blurted. He lifted up a plastic bag full of cookie cutter shapes. "I found the Halloween ones."

"How is that going to help us?" Ike grabbed the bag.

"We can do Halloween."

"Doh." Zac slapped his forehead with his hand. "Tay's gone mental! I know! Let's make little psycho elves!"

"How are we supposed to make them look psycho?" Tay reluctantly shoved the Halloween shapes back into the cabinet.

"We can give them red eyes by putting red hots on their faces. And then we can make little horns out of candy corns..."

"Zac, those would be devil elves. That's not too Christmassy. Come on guys, let's get serious. Find the Christmas shapes, Tay." Isaac started to measure out the ingredients into a bowl.

"Ah ha!" Tay shouted. "I found cookie cutter cars!"

"Tay. Please be serious. We are not getting ready for the Indy 500, we are making freakin' Christmas cookies."

"Geez, Ike. Who caught the stuffy-bug this morning."

"Cute, Zac."

"You're the second person to say that to me today. Must mean I'm extra-special cute, huh?"

"No, it means you're a pain in the aa..."

"Ah ha!"

"What now?"

"I found the Christmas shapes."

"Well, it's about time." Isaac mixed the ingredients and scooped up the concoction. "Zac, get the flower and spread it on the counter."

"Isn't that a bit messy?"

"Just do it."

"Hey, you just sounded like a Nike ad."

"Zac..."

"Kay, okay." Zac sprinkled the flour onto the counter and Ike started to roll out the dough.

"It's too thin." Tay grabbed at the rolling pin.

"Hey, no it's not. I know what I'm doing."

"I'm telling you it's too thin."

"Let's make one big cookie!" Zac shouted.

"We can't. It won't bake all the way through," Tay said with dissapointment.

"How do you know?"

"I tried it."

"Taylor!"

"What?"

"These are not the Christmas cutters."

"Yes they are." Taylor spread out the shapes and looked at them carefully. "Oops. I guess they aren't."

"What are they?" Zac squeezed through his brothers to get a good look.

"They're for Hanukkah. That's a menorah and that's a dreadle." Ike pointed at the shapes.

"Why do we have them?"

"I think Mom made cookies for this homeless shelter one year and she felt that all religions needed to be represented."

"Let's make them anyway," Zac replied, staring at the shapes.

"Yeah, why not." Ike started to cut out the dough. "But go find the Christmas ones because we should have some of those too, seeing that it is our religion and all."

"What's the difference between Jewish and Christian people anyway?" Zac cleared off a section of the counter and hopped up.

"Didn't you learn that in Sunday school? I did."

"Well, sorry, we must have gone off on a world tour before we got to that part. You know that Kevin's cousin Jamie..."

"Jamie?" Taylor's head popped up over the cabinet door.

"Yes, Jamie. Let me finish, will ya."

"Fine."

"Anyway, Kevin's cousin Jamie said that Jewish people go to hell."

"What?!" Isaac looked up at his little brother, who was staring back at him innocently.

Taylor poked his head up again. "Obviously, this Jamie guy is an idiot."

"Well, a lot of people say that," Zac replied.

"Jewish people do not go to hell. They believe in God just like we do."

"What about Buddhists?"

"Zac..." Isaac was getting annoyed. He didn't feel like having a phylisophical discussion with his brother while making sugar cookies.

"I just want to know."

"No. Buddhists don't go to hell."

"How do you know?"

"Zac, how do you know that you won't go to hell? We don't really know anything for sure. We just have to trust our faith."

"But they don't believe in God."

"Must we have this discussion?"

"Isaac," Zac whined.

"Fine." Ike set down the cookie cutter and turned to Zac. "This is what I think. We believe in God and we believe that if we are good people then we will go to heaven. Just because we don't think that Buddhism is the correct religion doesn't mean that God will punish them for being brought up believing that. If they are good people, then they deserve to go to heaven, or wherever they think is a good place to go. I would hope that God is kind and wouldn't punish you for not being completely correct in your beliefs. Remember Zac, what we believe may not be the total truth either. I would hope that it is, but you don't know. That's why they call it faith."

"So Jews don't go to hell."

"Look at it this way. Jesus was a Jew."

"What?"

"Found them!" Taylor sprung up and scattered the Christmas cutters on the counter.

"Ike, keep going."

"I'll handle this, Ike." Taylor hopped up next to Zac on the counter. "Kay, Jesus was a Jew because before Jesus, there was no Christianity."

"Well, yeah, duh. I read the Bible too."

"Then you should know this stuff."

"So Jewish people don't believe in Jesus, though."

"Right. Well, they believe that he existed, but not that he's the son of God. They are still waiting for the Messiah to come down to earth. Is that right, Ike?"

"Yup, I think so. And there are the Mormons who believe that Jesus came down with his mortal body and then a few days later with his ressurected body to teach people. But they're still waiting for Him to come down again too. That's what the Book of Mormon is all about."

"Have you read that?"

"Nope. But someone came by the house one time and tried to give it to Mom, but she said that she was 'strong' in her beliefs. He was nice, though."

"Oh, I remember that." Zac tore a peice of dough from the arm of a snowman and shoved it in his mouth.

"Zac, that's gonna give you worms."

"No it's not. It can't hurt you."

"There's raw egg in it."

"Tay, it's not going to give him worms. But if you eat too much of it, Zac, you will be feeling it later."

"How do you know?" Tay hopped down off the counter.

"I ate ahout half of one of those sticks of instant cookie dough they sell. Oh, God, remember that was the time I couldn't go to see 'The Fifth Element' with you guys."

"That's why you were sick? Ew," Tay laughed.

"Oh, be quiet." Isaac picked up the tray that was now filled with Christmas and Hannukah shapes and stuck it in the oven. "Okay, that should do it."

"We done?"

"We? Like you two did much."