Author's Thoughts: Yeap, that's what the real Sage looks like above! You're about to find out what happened. Also, thank you again for giving this story a chance <3 Prepare your hearts for a fatal battle. You'll see what I mean.

Complications with Plans

{ three hours earlier }

The two-story colonial-style house, which is composed of mainly bricks, is one of the oldest buildings on the street. With its vast front lawn, large white columns and towering bedroom balconies, it just so happens to be one of the more grandiose residents in the area as well. Inarguably, the Rudawski family is the household everyone, who lives on Somerset Road at least, envies. However, they are also well-respected in the community since their family has been there for decades now. A whopping total of five generations have been raised within those very walls!

Since it's the weekend, everyone is home. Gerald Rudawski, the only man in the household, is in his study room, reviewing the cases his clients are entangled in. He's a defense lawyer, who, so far, has a 100% success rate, making him the number one sought after attorney in the entire district. His wife, Pamela, is in the bathroom, enjoying a glass of rich, red wine and a bubble-bath. It's her way of de-stressing. Like her spouse, she has a rather successful career. She's a wedding planner and dealing with women on the brink of insanity is certainly no picnic on the beach. Morgan, their daughter, is in the midst of ransacking her closet for an outfit to wear, while her cousin, Sage, is in her own room, scrawling out notes onto a piece of paper.

"No, that's not strong enough," the girl mumbles disapprovingly as she takes the pen and crosses off the words she finds unfitting for the speech she's supposed to deliver in less than four hours. She needs to captivate her audience. She has to get them riled up. If she doesn't, who will?

The house phone starts to ring. Nobody makes an effort to pick it up though. After she finally settles on what she would be wearing, Morgan walks over to her desk and decides to answer the phone. It's her aunt. "Sage! Your mom wants to talk to you!" she hollers from her room, which is only two doors down from her cousin's. She gets no response. "Sage!" she shouts again, a little frustrated this time around. It's clear that she's too preoccupied with god knows what to hear anything.

Not bothering to knock, because she will most likely be ignored again, Morgan pushes the door open and shakes her head when she catches sight of Sage hunched over her desk. "Sage, your mom's on the phone. She's wondering why you haven't answered any of her calls."

"I'm finished," the girl breathes as she straightens her posture and stands up, the completed work in her grasp. Now it's perfect. There's no way the crowd won't be moved by her words, which ooze with passion and determination. Next, Sage turns around and glances up, her lips pursing at Morgan's sudden appearance. She's wondering when her cousin got here and her eyes fall to the device sitting in her hand.

"Phone. Mom. Here," Morgan explains briefly, holding the phone out for her to take.

Sage doesn't need any more words to comprehend what she's being told. She grabs the device and presses it to her ear. "Hello?"

The sound of her daughter's voice allows the woman on the other end of the line to let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank goodness you're okay!" Mrs Chan shrieks hysterically. "I was so worried when you didn't pick up my calls! What were you doing?"

The girl's expression alters into one filled with confusion. Her mom called her? Walking over to her nightstand, Sage discovers a notification for fifteen missed calls. Yikes! She must have been more focused on finishing her speech than she thought. "Sorry, I was catching up on my homework." So that's not the truth, but what her mother doesn't know won't hurt her, right? It's not like she can expect the woman to understand her.

"I see," Mrs Chan nods, even though her daughter is unable to see her. "How have you been these last couple of days?"

Sage places her speech down and takes a seat on her bed while Morgan checks herself out in the full-body mirror mounted to the back of the closet door. "I've been all right. Did something happen? Why are you calling me so early on a Saturday? It's not even nine over there yet." Usually, they would talk on the weeknights when Sage isn't too swamped with work. The conversations are always short, concise and repetitive. The topics typically revolve around how Sage is doing in school and with work, nothing else is really mentioned. But that's just how their family interacts. It's nothing out of the ordinary.

"Honey, please don't tell me you forgot," the woman begs.

"Forgot what?" Sage questions, not having the slightest clue what her mother is talking about.

"You're supposed to go on a lunch date with my friend's son today, remember?" Mrs Chan reminds with a sigh.

"Lunch date?" Creases form on her forehead. Sage reaches over into her backpack and pulls out her planner. Flipping through the slightly worn out pages to today's date, her eyes proceed to transform into saucers once she catches sight of the details printed out in blue ink. How could she let something like this slip her mind? She can't miss the event though. Yeah, her parents will be disappointed with her if they find out she's not going to keep her promise but she's got priorities and meeting up with a complete stranger is not one of them.

"I didn't forget," she calmly assures as her eyes flit over to Morgan, who is already taking photos of herself. A lightbulb suddenly lights up in her brain, causing the corners of her lips to curl up. "Don't worry. I've got my outfit picked out and everything."

"Really?" She can hear the excitement in her mother's voice. "What are you going to wear?"

She pauses and observes her cousin's attire. "I'm thinking about going in a burgundy dress paired with a black jacket and maybe even some boots." Morgan's ears perk up and her brows knit together. She swivels around and sends Sage a pointed look, realizing the outfit she's talking about is the same one Morgan is donned in. "I'm still in the middle of deciding. What do you think?"

"It sounds totally adorable!" Mrs Chan sings enthusiastically. "If you need help doing your hair or makeup, you should ask Morgan. I'm sure she'd be willing to lend you a hand."

Oh, she'll be lending more than a hand, that's for sure. "Wow, you read my mind, mom," Sage says. "I was just about to ask her."

"All right, I'll let you go. Don't forget to enjoy yourself, okay?" she advises, her voice gentle. "I hear Jackson is a good, young man. He's part of the Air Force, you know. The Lieutenant General would have preferred a Marine, but I managed to convince him otherwise."

"Okay," Sage replies, her mother's words going through one ear and coming straight out of the other. "I'll talk to you after. Get some rest."

There's a pregnant pause before Mrs Chan's trembling voice comes through. "We love you, sweetheart."

"Yeah, me too."

The call ends and Morgan immediately speaks her mind. "I am not letting you borrow my outfit. Your boobs aren't even big enough."

Exhaling, Sage climbs back up to her feet and cocks her head to the right. "I don't want to borrow your outfit," she announces without batting a lash.

"Then why'd you tell your mom you were going to wear what I have on?" her cousin counters, squinting her eyes in suspicion. Why does she feel like something terrible is about to take place?

"Because you're going to go on that date for me," she proclaims confidently.

It's dead silent. When Morgan's brain finally computes her words, she loses it. "Come again? That is not happening, Sage," she declares with a firm and stern tone. "You might be my baby cousin, but we're not kids anymore. I've got my own life and you've got yours too. I can't to take care of you for the rest of our lives."

How could Sage forget how overdramatic the older girl can get? "No one's asking you to do that, Morgan. I am more than capable to tend to my own needs. This time, though, I really need you to do this for me. I have an important rally to attend this afternoon. I'm delivering a speech and I can't miss it," she explains.

Morgan scoffs out loud at the reason. Sometimes, even she can't believe how inconsiderate her cousin can be. "It's not my problem," defends Morgan. "You shouldn't have told Aunt Gina you were going to go. You made your bed, Sage, now it's time for you to lay in it." Then, she flips her hair back over her shoulder and spins around, prepared to make a dramatic exit.

Sage sucks in her bottom lip and chews on it. It looks like she's left with no other choice. She's going to have to resort to using, that's right, blackmail. "Since asking nicely didn't work, how about we try a different approach," she begins, forcing Morgan to halt in her tracks. "If you don't cooperate, I think I'm going to have a nice conversation with Uncle Gerald about the fascinating theory I have about how the emergency money he keeps stashed in the Panko container ended up missing for three days before it magically reappeared."

Morgan whirls around so fast she nearly gets whiplash. "You wouldn't," she balks with her mouth agape. She was positive nobody knew about that! How did Sage find out?

In a nonchalant manner, Sage shrugs her shoulders. "Try me."

"But I have plans with my friends," Morgan whines. "I can't ditch them."

"Do you want to miss hanging out with them for a single afternoon or would you rather be grounded for a minimum of three months?" inquires Sage.

Morgan sticks her nose up into the air. "Being grounded doesn't scare me anymore. I'm almost twenty-two years old now, Sage. It's any adult's dream to stay at home and do absolutely nothing but relax."

Nodding her head, Sage begins to gather her belongings. "How about getting all of your art supplies confiscated?"

Morgan gasps and clutches onto her chest, as though she's been physically stabbed in the heart. "That's just downright cruel!" she wails. "You're being beyond ridiculous right now! Why can't you just stand the guy up or, here's a brilliant idea, cancel the whole thing?"

"First of all, if I don't show up without a word, he'll go and complain to his parents about me. Then, they'll wind up telling my parents, who will undoubtedly be embarrassed by my actions, and I'll never hear the end of it," Sage narrates as she slings her backpack over her shoulder and looks at Morgan, who still has a skeptical countenance plastered onto her face. "There would be no point in cancelling either. I'll just be forced to reschedule and I don't have time to deal with all of that. It's simple. All you have to do is go there, pretend to be me, eat some good food and then tell him you had a wonderful time, but you didn't feel an instant connection."

Morgan takes a step back. "This is crazy," she says.

"So you're doing it, yes?"—Sage flicks her wrist outwards and checks the time —"I have to leave."

Whether or not she's going to regret this, Morgan will have to decide later. "Send me the details," she exhales.

"I will. Just don't let your parents find out or we'll both be in trouble," Sage warns.

After informing her uncle that she will be going out, Sage exits the premises, pedaling the bicycle she had received two years ago as a Christmas present. On the main road, cars are constantly beeping and honking at her. A few drivers even stick their heads out of the windows in order to spew vicious remarks, chalked with nothing but profanities. Some people just can't grapple onto the meaning of patience, but that's today's society for you. Instead of stooping to their level and getting upset, Sage ignores them. It's a shared road. She's not doing anything illegal. Plus, she's abiding by the same laws and regulations they are. So if they've got a problem, they can take it to the authorities. The chances of them winning are slim to none though.

Since it is officially autumn now, the weather has been getting more frigid as the days go on. Currently, the cold wind is whipping against Sage's exposed skin, tinting her cheeks a bright and bold pink. She arrives at her destination, a popular park located five minutes away from the university, and hops off of her bicycle. Retrieving her lock, she secures the vehicle of transportation to a nearby bench before she joins the other volunteers who are already present.

"Sage, you made it." As soon as she's in his line of sight, Blake stops what he's doing and flashes a warm smile at her.

"Why do you sound surprised?" The girl pulls the elastic confining her hair into a ponytail off, allowing the long, brown waves, which resembles melted chocolate, to tumble down over her shoulders. This should help keep her face a little warmer.

The young man shakes his head in amusement, that charming smile still adamant. "Not surprised, just happy. Should we start setting up?" he asks.

"Yeah," Sage answers as she starts to unfold the chairs and arrange them.

Blake mimics her actions. Discreetly, he steals a quick glimpse of her and takes notice of her rosy cheeks. Automatically, he realizes she's freezing. Sage has always been a bit sensitive to the brisk weather. "I could have picked you up," he mutters, no longer looking at her. He shouldn't get caught. "It's starting to get chilly nowadays. I don't think it's a smart idea for you to keep riding your bike everywhere."

"I'm fine," Sage dismisses as she continues to line the chairs up in front of the small stage. "I want to leave a tiny carbon footprint. Besides, it's good for me. The doctor says exercising can help with alleviating stress since it releases endorphins into your body, which make you feel better and what not." Then she ceases all movement and peers over to the boy. "Speaking of carbon footprints, you don't leave the bathroom light on at night anymore, do you?"

"No, of course not," Blake answers.

"Good. You should seriously considering selling your car as well and—" She gets cut off.

"That's not happening, Sage," he chuckles. "Like I told you before, my dad gave it to me as a gift for my high school graduation. He'd be devastated if I sold it."

"It was only a suggestion," she points out.

Playfully, Blake rolls his eyes. "I'm sure it was. Anyways, are you ready to give your speech?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she returns.

"I don't know. Even the pros get nervous, don't they?" he supplies.

"If you're sincerely passionate about the topic, there's nothing to fret over." She shrugs dismissively.

He grins and nods his head. "As expected of the admirable Sage Chan."

"Wait, don't you have swim practice today?" She purses her lips out. "What are you doing here? Isn't your coach going to get angry?"

"It's preseason," Blake answers. "The meets don't really matter. Besides, I want to be here and take part in making a difference."

"All right, if you say so." Who is she to stop him? "Just, please, try not to be too much of a distraction. The last time you attended a meeting, the girls were all too busy drooling over you to pay attention to anything else."

"Surely that's a bit of an exaggeration on your part," the young man argues. "I'm sure it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be."

"On the contrary, it was that bad, Blake," she says rather candidly. "You just didn't notice. Then again, you're handsome. It can't be helped."

"But you don't get distracted by me." His head hangs down low, eyes narrowed at the wilting grass beneath their feet.

"I never said that," Sage answers nonchalantly, not even sparing him another glance. Her blunt remark, although it might not seem like a big deal to her, is more than enough to have Blake's heart performing somersaults as he stares at her with his mouth slightly ajar.

From a distance, Ivy, a freshman at UVM, pouts as she watches Blake and Sage interacting with one another. She's been tasked with making the posters with a junior named Lyle. However, if you couldn't tell, she had originally wanted to be partnered up with Blake. But unfortunately the world is a cruel place stocked with disappointments. "Do you think they're going to get back together?" she questions absentmindedly.

Lyle lifts his head up and traces her line of sight. His lips hitch to one side and he shrugs. "Who knows?" He's been acquainted with the pair for over a year now and has nothing against either one of them. In fact, he respects Sage a lot. For an underclassman, she's doing a superb job as the organization's newly appointed president. Her effort shows just how much dedication and love she has for what she does. How can he not respect her? As for Blake, he's a pretty cool dude.

The answer ignites a flame of hope inside of the blonde. "Should I try to go for him then?"

"Wait, you like Chamberlein?" Lyle blinks.

"I mean, what's there not to like? He's sweet, funny, cute, kind, gent—" Lyle interrupts her, leaving her unable to complete the statement.

"Okay, okay. I get the picture. If you're that confident you've got a shot with him, I say go for it. Just be ready," he warns.

She looks at him, bewildered. "Ready for what?"

He takes in a deep breath. "To get your heart shattered into pieces."

Ivy immediately frowns in distaste. "You're such a pessimist."

The guy isn't deterred by the comment and continues speaking, "I'm being honest. Trust me, if you decide to pursue him, it isn't going to end well for you."

"And how can you be so sure of that? Are you a psychic who can foresee the future?" she rebuts as she waits to hear his reasoning.

"I don't have to be psychic to know he's not going to reciprocate your feelings. Why?" Lyle's eyes wander over to the duo and he finds his evidence without an issue. The tender expression the boy is wearing tells him all he needs to know.

"Because it's obvious he's still hopelessly in love with her. She just doesn't know it."