It was quiet outside. There were several clouds in the sky, but it was still sunny. It was one of those days where everything was picture perfect.

The peaceful silence ended when my mom burst through the back door. I could hear dad yelling behind her. Another argument? She ran towards the garden as dad followed close behind. If there was one thing I wasn't upset with my parents doing, it was showing their affection. Even when dad pushed mom over the edge, he always went chasing after her to make things right.

I head back inside so I won't overhear the argument. Sometimes I worry I might cry in front of them. They wouldn't notice, though. Which is why I'd cry. In a big house like this, I'm often overlooked.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I see it's Courtney and debate whether to answer it or not. I decide it's best not to ignore my fake girlfriend.

"Hello?" I answer, holding back an exasperated sigh.

"We need to break up." She replies.

"Alright. Where and when?" I ask. I was ready to break up with her after she ditched me. I had to go through a bunch of crap to keep our reputation in tact. Not to mention I brought an innocent girl whom I barely know into the mess.

"Wait. Just like that?" She seems offended. Did she forget we didn't really have any feelings for each other? I pick at a loose thread on my khaki shorts.

"Sure. It's not like we could fake out the press much longer. I mean, Brynn didn't look like you-"

"Ah. So that's her name. I knew it. You'd much rather date her than me." I heard bitterness in her voice.

I was severely confused.

"I hope you two are happy together!" She sobbed and hung up.

Within two minutes of my confused as heck state, my phone buzzed with a tweet from one of those stupid publicity magazines. To my surprise, I was updated about my own break up.

They were listening to her end of the conversation. That's why she was acting that way. Well played, Courtney, well played.

It dawned on me that I was now a free man. What to do with myself now?

It appears I wasn't the only individual to receive the tweet. A few minutes later I felt another buzz. This was a instagram comment on one of my pictures with Courtney.

I just can't believe you're single now, omg.

Another one followed.

He's gorgeous. He's going to have so many girls after him when we get back from break.

Someone get his #

Is there any chance we could go on a date some time?

I became overwhelmed with all the fangirling comments. My sister barged into my room and started laughing.

"Wow! Someone's popular with the ladies!" This was amusing to her. I didn't like the feeling, though. I felt like I was being stalked.

"I didn't see a comment from that Brynn girl, though."

I couldn't help but avoid her eyes. This conversation would get embarrassing if I let it.

"Ooo. Someone's blushing! You like her!"

All I could do was give a glare.
"You couldn't be more wrong. She hates me. We don't have a thing in common and we never talk. So, sorry, I can't stand her, and you're wrong about me liking her."

What I said was a bit more harsh than I wanted it to sound. But I got the point across because she left my room.

My parents continued to argue right outside of my bedroom window. This was absolutely exhausting. Would they ever stop?

I decided to go for a cruise around town. Even if every girl in town knew I was available, I didn't want to really be seen. It was best that I didn't have a destination, that I just kept my focus on the road and listened to the radio.

Oh, the radio. That reminded me of the playlist I needed to create for my birthday party. Unlike my brother, it was not going to get crazy and get my face plastered on People magazine.

It might be in my best interest to get a band instead. However, I guess they can't play the whole time, so I'd still need a DJ. Maybe I could talk to Brynn about her band.

It was crazy how much went on at school that I had no idea about. I felt inconsiderate and ignorant for being such an imbecile. I think Brynn might be proud of me for using three big words in one sentence. But how could I overlook the fact there was a band in my high school?

On my cruise down main street, I saw a few kids riding skateboards. There were four to be exact, and one girl with familiar purple hair was walking beside them with a skateboard in one hand and a camera recording the others in her other hand.

She spotted my car and waved me down. She looked ticked. She knocked her fist against my window. "Sir, I'm sorry but we're trying- Oh. It's you. A different car for each day of the week now?"

I wonder if she could taste the bitterness of her own words.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked, ignoring her assumption and asking my own question. It's comments like that that tick me off, but I've learned to shrug them off no matter how much they sting. I'm sorry that I can't help how much money my family makes.

"We're recording a music video. We're hoping this will get us some gigs." Her purple hair falls onto my arm which I have rested where my window is rolled down.

"You need a gig?" I ask, knowing this conversation cannot be just a coincidence.

She looks back at her friends, one of the guys just staring at her. One guy is failing to flirt with the other girl of the band. The third guy is trying not to look awkward and starts riding around on the sidewalk. There's always that awkward friend.

"We need a gig. But more importantly, we need some songs. I'll talk to you later, Rider. We need to get back to our video." As she walks away, I can't help but think of one word.

Rejection. I think I just got rejected.

Anyways, I try to shrug off yet another hurtful comment made and drive off. Does she realize that I just wanted to help her out? Why doesn't she let me do one thing for her in return for saving my reputation?

A few girls cross the street in front of me at a stop sign. One girl whom I recognize from English class stops dead in her tracks when she sees me. Dang. I thought these windows were tinted.

"Hi Rider." The girl flirtatiously waves at me as she makes her way to my rolled down window. Crap. What have I done? Abort, abort abort!

"Um, hey." I respond to the tall blonde. I think her name is Kylie, but I can't be sure. She's definitely popular, but not my kind of popular. She's a cheerleader, sure, but not one I would want to be associated with.

"So," She leans farther into my car, "I heard you're single. You know, I always thought you and that dumb super model girl weren't really that great of a couple. You should try dating a cheerleader."

She runs her fingers through her hair and bats her eyelashes. Gee, you think she's trying to make a move? This seems plain desperate to me.

"First, Courtney is not dumb, nor a super model. She is highly intelligent. And she's not in the magazines because she's a model, she's becoming the vice president of her father's company. So, excuse you for not doing your research, but we're still very close friends. You just insulted one of my good friends. Yep, I think I'm going to leave now. See ya." At that, I took off from the stop sign after making sure nothing was coming.

As I looked in my rearview mirror, I saw Brynn looking at my car and shaking her head. It then dawned on me she probably saw everything that happened and thinks I blew my chances with 'the prettiest girl in school'. There is only one girl I find pretty at Westover High, and it's not Kylie Reynolds.

A/N

This story is dedicated to my amazing friend Cindy. You rock Cindy!