And she FINALLY updates. Sorry it's horribly long. Enjoy!

"REAGAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE BATHROOM? OPEN THE FREAKING DOOR!"

Madison Holt pounded on the bathroom door. Her twin sister, Reagan, sighed.

"MAD! Would you just use the other bathrooms or something? Dad didn't let us rent this freaking mansion to have you banging on the bathroom door while I'm in it!"

Madison glared at the door- though Reagan couldn't actually see her. "Yeah, stupid, but I want to use THIS ONE!"

Reagan screamed in frustration and swung open the door. "Happy now, loser?" she asked her sister. Reagan didn't say anything for a second; and had justification for that. Reagan was wearing a-

"Reagan Winona-Shelly Holt, are you wearing a skirt?" blustered Madison. Reagan blushed.

"Got a problem with it?" she asked, lifting her chin up- though it was obvious she was nervous as hell.

Madison just sighed. "I swear, ever since we moved to New York, you've gotten so sof-

"Don't. Say It." growled Reagan, giving Madison a glare that could freeze ice.

"Fine, fine, jeez," Madison muttered, walking into the bathroom, then locking the door shut. Reagan began walking to her room.

"YOU'VE GONE SOFT!" yelled Madison from the bathroom.

"YOU LITTLE WITCH!" screamed Reagan…though she didn't exactly say "witch". Madison just laughed with ruthlessness that would've impressed Isabel Kabra.

Reagan slammed her bedroom door shut and sank down onto the bed, covering her face with her hands- though careful not to mess up her neat brown eyeliner and mascara. She hadn't gone soft, despite whatever Madison was saying. She was just…in love.

Who wouldn't be in love with him, with those green eyes the perfect shade of green, like that one stone- was it emerald? Or garnet? She couldn't remember- and his skater boy looks. And that dark blond hair that was just long enough, the perfect length…

Reagan flung open her closet doors and took a good look at herself in the mirror. After all, if her date always looked good, she had to at least reach those standards if not better.

Her blond hair was straight and- for once-out of her usual ponytail. She didn't really where much make up because she figured that Dan liked the natural look- so just foundation, blush, bronzer, mascara, cover up, eyeliner, eye shadow, lip liner, lip stick, lip gloss, and to top it all off, her Le Parfum Naturale perfume. And yes, Madison was right- she was wearing a skirt, because she happened to know that doing ballet really tones your legs- I may be soft, Madison, but at least it's getting me somewhere, she thought. In all honesty, she didn't look like Reagan Holt; she looked….well, pretty.

Reagan closed the closet doors and lay down on the bed, deep in thought. She couldn't help but feel kind of guilty for blackmailing Dan Cahill…but then again, it's not like she was doing anything wrong. Reagan knew for sure that Shelly was out of town, on some vacation to Jamaica. Ha. Like Reagan hadn't been there before.

And was it so wrong to use her natural talents? Her dad always told her that "if she was good at it, go for it", so…hacking into someone's phone and sending a text message from it to the boy she was in love with to convince him to go on a date with her even though he thought she was Shelly….shouldn't that count?

Reagan sighed as she thought of his response. Yeah sure meet u there at 7! Luv, Dan

Luv, Dan. Luv, Dan. Luv, Dan.

That was so like him…to write "luv" instead of "love" because it was only their first date and he didn't want to seem too eager. Too bad for him that Reagan could read between his lines.

6:30 was emblazoned on the clock in bright red. Normally, Reagan would've left at that time, but she didn't want to seem too eager…kind of like Dan! Another thing they had in common!

Reagan closed her eyes, a smile playing across her lips, as she imagined how the scene might go like….

Dan sat there, sighing. Where was Shelly? Was she standing him up? What did he even do to her? Whatever, he thought. Who needs Shelly Gonzalez when you can have someone like-

His thoughts were interrupted by the fancily decorated glass door of Coralie's being opened by the doorman, and the most beautiful girl in the world walked through.

She was completely stunning, totally gorgeous, absolutely striking …there were no words to describe it. Dan's breathe caught in his throat and he stared like there was no tomorrow.

The pretty girl said something to the waiter, and began walking. People stared shamelessly, and Dan was annoyed. Why were they staring at her?

Dan almost fell out of his chair when he realized she was coming towards him. But when she got closer, something stirred in him. She looked so familiar, a bit like-

"Reagan?" he said in bewilderment.

"Hey, Dan," she said sweetly, ignoring the stares of the other people. Wow, Dan thought. She's as modest and kind as she is beautiful!

"Reagan, I…I…you look amazing!"

Reagan blushed cutely. "Oh, well, thank you fo-

But her words had been cut off by the pair of lips that had landed on hers.

"OI, REAGAN! DIDN'T YOU SAY YOU HAD TO GO SOMEWHERE AT SEVEN?" screamed Madison from somewhere else in the house.

Irritated, Reagan groaned. "WHAT'S IT TO YOU?"

Reagan could practically hear Madison rolling her eyes. "IT'S 7:00, YOU DOUCHEHEAD!"

Reagan jumped off of her bed and bounded down the stairs like someone had yelled free food. "Where's my purse, where's my purse?" she frantically asked her two other siblings. Madison threw a pillow at her and Hamilton stared.

"WHERE'S MY PURSE?" she screamed, running around the kitchen, checking the pantry and the stove and the microwave. "WHERE?"

"Are you wearing a skirt?" asked Hamilton, shock and disgust mingled in his voice.

"No, you idiot, I'm wearing a TOGA!" she yelled. "Where is it? I swear, I put it right here, it's pink, it matches the hemming of my skirt, because even though it's a white skirt and you can't even see the stitches in the hemming, it looks nice, because hemming means the stitches and stuff, though I'm not completely sure, but that's what Suzy told me, so I guess it might be right, but sometimes Suzy is wrong, actually a lot of times she is wrong, like one time she said that football players are the hottest, when in reality soccer players are the hottest, because a lot of football players aren't exactly skinny, and also they are old, and it's very unattractive, while I mean, look at David Villa, is he not the hottest soccer player ever, I mean, well, the Spain players are hot, and also they won the World Cup in 2010, so that makes them hotter, but then again there's David Beckham, but he kind of sucks even though he's hot, and-

"Reagan, stop babbling." Madison rolled her eyes. Reagan had a tendency to dither when she got panicky.

"Dude, is this your purse?" asked Hamilton, picking up the so-called pillow Madison had thrown at her.

"AAHHHH!" screamed Reagan. "That's it! That's it! Why'd you throw it? No, don't answer that. I gotta jet. Adios! Au revoir! Uh, bye!"

And in a flurry of pink, white, and blonde, Reagan was out of there.

Dan Cahill was panicking.

And of all the billion and one reasons why you think he is panicking are all WRONG.

Because he was not nervous for his date- he'd been out with girls before.

He was not sure of what to wear.

He was not sure of what to get her. (Well, okay, a little unsure. But when your sister is the Teen Queen of Relationships on the New York Times, you tend to pick some things up.)

He wasn't even worried about all the things that could go wrong on the date- those things that we all think about before we go on dates…like what if we get something stuck in our teeth, or get bad breathe, or smell like we haven't showered for two weeks, or our hair frizzes, or you don't wear matching socks, or anything worse than that (can it get worse than that?). He didn't need to worry about what could possibly go wrong when everything had already gone wrong.

See, the problem was that Dan Cahill was lost. Very lost.

He had specifically told the cab driver to take him to Coralie's. And Dan was pretty sure that the new fancy restaurant called Coralie's was not a club- or at least, that's what the place he'd ended up in looked like.

Dan had gotten out of the cab, pumped and ready to hold the hand of Shelly Gonzalez, the second best thing to Samantha Peters. Instead, he got five very busty, scantily clad girls who looked way older than his meager-freshman status looking at him with looks that very nearly made him run away in fear.

"Hey, buy me a drink, cutie?" asked the shortest one of the five- she looked sly and almost evil, as if she could tell he didn't belong here and was planning to use it against him. She had white-blonde hair and pale features, with big, pale blue, kohl rimmed eyes. She had to be...like...the spawn of Satan or something. Dan stared.

"Uhhmm…I g-gotta run…" Oh, great. He sounded like Amy did when she was his age.

"Oh come on, hon," pleaded another one of the girls, who, in a bright red tube top, very mini miniskirt, and skyscraper heels, was the most conservatively dressed of them all. "Get the girl a drink."

Dan sighed and glanced at the phone sticking out of The Child of the Devil's shorts pocket- it was 7:10. Great. Now Shelly would think he was standing her up.

Dan sighed again. Well…girls were girls…maybe these girls would understand his situation…

"Look," he said. "I'd love to buy you a drink, but I've kind of got a date with someone else right now, at this new restaurant called Coralie's, but the driver accidentally dropped me off here at the bar Coralie's, and I really, really need to get to the restaurant, so if it was possible for you guys to, um, find someone else, that'd be great."

The four girls stared at him for a second, and Dan couldn't decide whether or not they were trying to figure out if he was telling the truth or if they were too wasted to understand what he said.

"Aww, thash kinda shweet," slurred the most wasted of the four, an anorexic looking girl with a huge nose. "He dushn't want to be infaithful to hish girlfriend. Too bad Matt washn't like that- I hate Matt sho much I just want to-

A few choice words, a lot of hand motions, and three whooshing sounds made it clear of Anorexic Girl's intentions to Matt- and then she passed out.

"Oh, come on," said one of the two girls who hadn't spoken yet, a girl who had a neon pink streak running through her pitch black hair. "I thought she would last at least a little longer."

"Last time she had 15 minutes," said the other girl, with ginger locks and freckles- one of the Weasleys? wondered Dan. "She got 20 today. Not bad, plus she had more of a reason to get drunk today."

"Okay, true," said the first of the two. "Rhea, Austin, could you get her a ride?"

"Sure thing, Mallory," said Rhea- formerly known as Evil Girl. "Later, cutie," she said, winking at Dan. He blushed, but managed to raise an eyebrow. Cute girls…cute evil girls. They always got to him- but never had one made him do something so uncharacteristic as blushing…

The three walked away, leaving Dan and the two girls.

"So you need a ride to Coralie's?" asked Mallory. "I think we can arrange that, right, Blake?"

"We can," said Blake. "But we'd rather know your name first."

"Dan Cahill," he said without thinking- That deserves a face-palm, Dan thought angrily. Why would he tell two random girls his real name? Had he learned nothing during the 39 Clues hunt?

"Dan Cahill?" said Blake, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Amy Cahill, would you?"

Dan rolled his eyes. He was so used to this. People would realize his sister works for the Times, so they'd instantly suck up to him. Of course, it wasn't all bad. The guys who worked at Game Stop gave him free video games- with their numbers written on the box, along with a "Call me, Amy" scrawled next to it.

"Her one and only fantastic little brother," he said, slightly sarcastic.

"That's cool," said Mallory. "We know her from school."

"You guys go to Lucrelle, too?" Dan asked, surprised. Lucrelle Academy was an expensive place- not that he'd assumed these girls were poor, it's just they didn't seem the type to wear plaid skirts and button downs.

"You know it," said Blake. "We're juniors."

"Oh," was all Dan could say. "So I guess you guys know Ian Kabra, then?"

Why did he even bother asking? As cool and sophisticated as these two girls seemed- because unlike their friends (though...not really including the spawn of Satan, Rhea), they didn't look like hookers- even they started drooling at the name.

"Ian Kabra? Of course we know him. Who doesn't?" said Mallory dreamily, clearly indicating that she didn't really know him.

"He's amazing," said Blake. "He's so wonderful, he's sweet, polite, cool…"

"He's a jerk" was what Dan wanted to say. But he needed to get to Coralie's.

"Yeah, he's alright," said Dan distractedly. "Look, do you guys think you could help me get to Coralie's? I was supposed to be there at seven."

"You know know him?" squealed Mallory.

"Seven?" shrieked Blake. "Your girlfriend's going to be so pissed!"

"Yeah, she not really my girlfriend," explained Dan. "It's our first date."

"Man, you're screwed," said Blake. "Here, I'll get you a ride-

And in 6 minutes flat, Dan had a ride in a smooth looking Lexus with a guy named Michael, who was going to Coralie's on a date, too. He was a good natured guy who looked very slightly Mexican.

"Thanks a ton, you guys!" said Dan, giving each girl a friendly hug. "If there's anything you ever need, just ask."

"No prob-

"Hey Dan?" asked Blake, interrupting Mallory.

"Yeah?" answered Dan, putting on his seatbelt.

"Rhea's a freshman at Galivree." Galivree Private School was Lucrelle's rival school.

And tell me again, why do I care?, wondered Dan.

Dan looked at her, confused. "So?"

Blake smirked. "So give her a call sometime."

As Dan drove away with the evil-looking blond girl on his mind, Blake and Mallory exchanged smirks.

"Have we scored?" asked Mallory, with really needing an answer. But Blake did anyway.

"We have, my friend," said Blake triumphantly. "And finally. He's just what Rhea needs."

"Ian!" shrieked Natalie Kabra shrilly. "Where is my Valentino sequin petale tote?"

Ian lazily walked by Natalie's bedroom. "You mean the one you didn't get?"

Natalie flung opened her door and stopped him in his tracks. "What do you mean, the one I didn't get?"

Ian didn't even blink. "You didn't get the Valentino, you got some Roberto Cavalli tiger print design instead." He sighed. "Now could you get out of my way?"

But he needed have bothered wasting his breathe, because Natalie had already slammed the door in his face. Ian rolled his eyes and continued down the hall to the stairs, then exiting out through the front door.

Meanwhile, Natalie was- as it is so vulgarly put by commoners- freaking out.

"How am I supposed to tie this look together if I don't have my Valentino?" she asked herself, looking into the mirror at her perfectly made-up face. "Tiger prints don't go at all with pink and lace! And suede boots! Suede and tiger prints are a combination for disaster! Tiger prints? What was I thinking? Tiger print? Why didn't you talk me out of this?"

Natalie glared furiously at her reflection, as though she were waiting for the image in front of her to back down. Then she mentally shook herself; what was she doing?

Going on a date? With Parker? When she really liked-

Okay, so she didn't know who she liked. But facts are facts, and Natalie knew she didn't really have feelings for Parker Daniels, no matter how handsome and popular and jockish and rich he was.

Because that was the kind of guy Natalie Kabra dated. The handsome, popular, jockish, rich kind, who were destined to get in Stanford or Harvard with either a football scholarship or their dad somehow knowing the dean's uncle's son's cousin's daughter and managing to get them in. Dating someone who didn't meet any of that criterion was…

"Not done," she heard her mother say in the back of her head. "That is not Kabra behavior!"

Natalie closed her eyes, trying to get the beautiful, hurtful image of her mother out of her head, only to find it printed on the back of her eyelids as well.

"Okay, focus," she told herself. "No Valentino…what should I do instead?"

She stared into the walk-in closet that was about 1/16th of the one she had back home in London…but, technically, London wasn't really her home anymore. After all, how could it be when their mother was jailed in that country and her father didn't even live there anymore? In fact, the whereabouts of Vikram Kabra remained unknown to everyone Natalie knew, including even Ian. So the penthouse in New York became their new home, and Ian was her legal guardian, as he was just 18.

The new life Natalie led in New York was almost no different than the case in London- socially, that is. All the girls wanted to be her and all of the guys wanted her. And the fact that her mother was being held in the most secure prison in London- well, that somehow added to her glamour.

But financially, life was a bit more different. Instead of buying new purses every week she'd have to wait every two weeks, and she had- Natalie still felt sick every time she thought of the heinous crime- worn the same outfit thrice. It was horrifying.

Natalie scanned the bags lined neatly on the rows in her closet. Which one to choose, which one to choose! Finally, her eyes landed on a Marc Jacobs sequined, leather number. She tried it out. Hmmm…classy enough. Natalie didn't want to seem overly classy, though, like those rich girls from Tribeca; the little snotty ones with lofts who tried much too hard. But she didn't want to seem, well, normal, or just weird, like Mallory Dickinson and Blake Weathers and that crew.

Of course, there was the matter of Amy Cahill, who fell under no category. She was the one girl in the school that no one hated, because she was just…Amy. Even Natalie didn't hate her; of course, she'd never be caught sitting at lunch with the girl.

Natalie glided down the stairs and went into the kitchen. Natalie looked around. No one was home, and it looked okay…she could wear her apron over her outfit…and it had been so, so long…

When Ian entered his home again, he entered a lovely looking place with the delightful aroma of warm, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and the sound of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl".

"Are you...did you bake?" A bewildered Ian asked his sister, who was humming along to the music.

"Hmmm? Wha- oh, yes, I got into a mood…" Natalie smiled the devil's smile, knowing exactly the words that would send her older brother out of the room before he began to question her baking.

"You know, Mother Nature, my time of the month and all that."

Ian fled the room, not even bothering to steal a cookie.

Natalie smiled a satisfactory smile and left the cookies to cool. She folded her apron and put it away, then grabbed her purse.

A date and Parker Daniels were waiting for her at Coralie's. Natalie left the house, leaving the scent of chocolate chip cookies and Gwen Stefani behind.

So what do you think of the story? The old characters? The new characters? Where do you think it's going to go?

But most importantly, I need a question answered. I really need to know: Do you want Dan to end up with Rhea or Natalie? I already have it planned out, but remember...anything is possible in the mystical land that is New York at night.