I've got determination in my steps as I make my way toward a familiar blonde. She's busy stuffing boxes into the back of her vehicle when I approach and slam my hand against the back window to gain her attention. She gasps, stepping away from the backend, wide eyes swinging to meet mine.

"I always had my suspicions that it was you," I tell her, crossing my arms and leaning against the door.

Cassandra's demeanor relaxes, a bored expression clouding the worry behind her eyes.

"Suspicions about what?"

I smile, sliding my finger over the dirty rubber seal that lines the window. "That you were Seth's stalker."

Her jaw clenches, but she doesn't respond.

"I kept telling myself that you were innocent, just a lovesick, Seth-obsessed person," I explain, watching her closely as she shifts from one foot to the other. "But you freakin' slapped me and that's when I realized you were a little bit more dangerous than I assumed..." I pause, analyzing her expression, but she remains stony. "Dangerous enough to stalk Seth—literally following him from one town to the next."

"Yeah right," she laughs, rolling her eyes as she resumes shoving boxes into the backend. "Why would I do something like that? Yes, I liked Seth... enough to do whatever needed to be done to make him see me, but I'm not a stalker."

"Are you sure?" I ask, taking a step toward her. "Because I'm one-hundred-percent sure I've seen this exact SUV in some really strange places. Waiting in parking lots for him to leave my dorm, hovering outside his uncle's house just before the police show up to raid the place. Any chance you were responsible for making that call?"

"Really?" she chuckles, a breath leaving her lungs with the sound. "That's your proof? You realize this is not a unique car, right? Just glance around this parking lot; I'm sure you'd find a few more."

"Yeah," I nod in agreement, "that's what I thought too... until I realized that yours has a red streak of paint on the front bumper and a cracked headlight, probably from a prior accident. I'm not always the most observant person, but I'm not stupid either. Just fess up already! Maybe admitting your guilt will help you feel less crazy."

"Why bother!" she hisses, shoving in the last box and slamming the backend. "Your boyfriend already got the police involved. Why do you think I'm packing up all my crap!"

My mind flips, caught on her words. "Seth talked to you?"

"Oh yeah," she laughs, but it reeks with bitterness. "He kindly told me to keep my distance."

"And you actually listened?" I balk, amused.

"Um yeah," she says, eyeing me like I'm the moron in this conversation. "when someone files a restraining order against you, it makes sense to adhere to it."

My mind is swirling. Seth, my Seth, actually stood up for himself. He went so far as to alert authorities. I can feel pride swelling beneath my ribs, forcing my lips to spread into a goofy grin.

"Wow," I breathe.

"Yeah," she nods, crossing her arms. For a moment her defenses drop and the kind girl I'd first met in the coffee shops emerges. "It's crazy, right? I guess sometimes the ugly girls really do win."

My fingers ache to reach up and slap her smug face, but I know I'd regret stooping to her level. So instead, I shake out my fists and force a smile. "Yeah, it really is crazy." I step away from her SUV, letting my eyes really take in the girl in front of me. I know I should feel pity for her. She's just a confused, jealous mess of a human, but she's also a royal pain in the butt. The way she plays these games is sick, and the fact that she shows no remorse for it is disturbing.

"Well," I cross my eyes, watching as she picks a bag up off the ground and slings it over her shoulder. "I hope you have a terrible life and that misery finds you wherever you go."

"You're such a bi—"

"Cassandra," I warn, my tone calm. "You need to change. You're a terrible person, and until you can learn selflessness, you don't deserve love. No man deserves your creepy love—if love is even the right word. You're an obsessive person and you need help. So, for the sake of humanity, I hope you find it. Find help."

Her eyes are slits as she glares at me, her mouth dropping open at my very honest insult. Someone had to say it and I personally really enjoyed doing it. But, I hope my words stick. I hope she sees her mistakes and takes responsibility for them.

Without another word, and without waiting for a response, I spin on my heel and walk away—a part of me concerned that she's going to attack me from behind. But, when I get to my dorm entrance, I turn around and find that she's already gone. Hopefully for good.

———

Over the next several months, Seth and I spend as much time together as possible. With Cassandra transferred to a new school, I feel like we can finally breathe. She's gone and we can all move on.

Conversation is something Seth and I never tire of. I've learned that he has no other family in his life like I'd previously assumed. He'd said that his 'Mimi' had made his ugly sweater for him all those months ago—which I'd found adorable at the time—but not nearly as adorable as the truth. In fact, it wasn't Mimi who made it... it was Me-me—a slip of the tongue that Seth didn't bother to correct. Subtly admitting that he had made his own sweater—with a little help from Shonice, of course—was probably the most adorable thing I've ever heard. And who knew I could make Seth stutter? Can't say I'm bothered at all by that fact.

Overall, I never realized just how good Seth would be for me. I always sort of assumed he'd be too good for me, someone way out of my league. But in fact, we're kind of perfect. We balance each other out. I've taught him how to have a little bit more backbone and he's taught me how to show people their importance. I'd lacked so much respect before, but he woke me up to the beauty that seems to be hidden in the strangest of places.

I've got genuine friends now. People who mean more to me than myself, and that's a big deal. I'd resented Emma when she'd first arrived at school eager to win the impossible heart of a boy she'd hurt. I'd thought she was stupid and wasting her time. Turns out, I was very wrong. She's more real and more brave than I ever was.

I risked my pride for a chance at love; Emma risked her chance at love by laying down her pride.

Funny how people's circumstances morph them into who they are. I'd have thought that Seth would have been the one who needed fixing, but it was me. Maybe my life had been too good. Maybe I hadn't struggled with enough pain and that somehow made me arrogant. I thought I was better than everyone else. And then I met Seth...

The boy who had every excuse to hate life. The boy who had every right to flaunt his brokenness with hatred, a bad attitude, and stupid decisions. He could have taken his misery out on every person he met, but instead, he did the very opposite. He used his hurt as a tool to ensure no one else he came in contact with ever felt what he felt. The only thing he needed to learn was trust. It can't be built on ruins, and sometimes we have to be willing to knock down our own wobbly walls and start fresh. Seth and I did that together. That's what grew our friendship into something so much bigger... trust.

Now, exactly twelve months since the day Seth asked me to be his girlfriend, I sit wringing my fingers together as I mentally prepare myself for a romantic evening together. It's our anniversary, so I've got to put a little more effort into myself, right? Twelve whole months together, and we've only gotten more sickeningly in love with each day, and tonight I'm expecting things to get bumped up a notch. See, I've discovered that Seth is quite the romantic over the past several months, and I'm anxiously awaiting whatever sweet gesture he has planned for this evening.

I'm dressed far beyond my comfort zone in a long silk gown—yes, a gown—and strappy heels. He picked out the dress because I never would have gone for it, but I'm delightfully surprised at the way it drapes over my curves. I guess Seth knows women's fashion better than I do.

I've been tapping my three-inch ankle breakers against my worn dorm room carpet as I watch the seconds tick by. He'll be here any minute. I can feel it. He's got five minutes to spare, but I know him, and he's always ear—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Yep. I definitely have this guy figured out.

My heels make muted click-clacking noises on my way to the door and I swing it open. A smile blooms to life on my face but dies within seconds when I see Seth standing there with nothing but a set of keys in hand as he swings them around his finger. No flowers? Boo...

I shrug it off, betting my life on the fact that he's got something even better in store for me than flowers. So, instead of sulking, I let my eyes take in his expression, and I'm definitely not disappointed. He's scanning me like a barcode, his gaze red hot like a laser beam. He doesn't even bother offering me a hello as he takes in my appearance.

I rest one hand on the doorframe and lean my hip against the door as I wait for him to snap to attention. I see a smile light up his face because he knows he's been caught staring. But, instead of tearing his gaze from my dress and apologizing for inappropriate behavior, he just continues to look me up and down—only, each sweep of his eyes grows faster and faster until he's no longer really even looking at me, he's just tilting his head up and down like a bobblehead. I'm fighting back a smile at the buffoon before me and I can see he's trying to hold back his own laughs at his childish behavior.

"Stop!" I finally belt, laughter trickling from my lips as I step forward and grab his head between my hands. "You're making me dizzy."

"No," he says, giving my body one more appreciative glance before bringing his smiling eyes to meet my own. "You're making me dizzy."

"You're a dork." I chuckle.

He takes me to a fancy restaurant and we spend the entire evening dining on mock-tails and medium grilled steak. It's the perfect anniversary—especially when he beckons the band to play our favorite song. It's definitely a night to remember, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I'd been hoping for something bigger. Like, climbing a tree in the park and then watching a firework display as hearts and 'I love you's,' explode in the sky. But, I get none of that.

Instead, after dinner, we hop back into Seth's pickup and make our way back to campus. We're holding hands, but after a few minutes, he pulls away and rubs his hand down his pant leg. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that something was wrong. Maybe he's not feeling well. That would explain his unusually clammy hands.

I don't question his actions, and instead, tuck my hands between my thighs as I stare out the window.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he questions, his voice a stark contrast to the whisper of music from the radio.

I peer over at him, tilting my head back to rest on the seat as I smile.

"Absolutely," I tell him honestly.

Even if nothing spectacular happened, the conversations and love we shared tonight made it so memorable and special. We didn't need fireworks and unbelievable adventures in order to create a memory. The simplicity of tonight was a memory all on its own. I'd remember the light flutter of fingers against fingers as we held hands to and from the car. I'd remember the muffled laughter we shared as we tried to remain respectful in the elite restaurant even though Seth had just farted something awful. I'd remember that moment when he grew serious, his eyes gazing into mine as the urge to confess his love for me changed the entire mood of the evening. In summary, it might have possibly been one of the best nights of my life.

I see him smile at my response as he returns his gaze to the road. The car grows silent, but we're both comfortable. I get the feeling he's reminiscing about our evening as well.

"I realized something tonight," I say after pondering my words for a moment.

"What's that?"

"Remember Carl?" I ask, not expecting an answer. "Remember how he kind of saved you when you were a kid. He showed you the importance of not judging people based on your first glance of them. He showed you true kindness."

Seth nods, glancing quickly at me before returning his eyes to the road.

I take a breath and turn to face him. "You're my Carl."

Seth's brows dip, absorbing what that statement means before reaching over and sliding his fingers between mine. With a gentle squeeze, I continue.

"You've taught me how people should be treated," I explain. "You've taught me the joy of really getting to know a person's heart. To take the time to lay aside my selfishness and do what's best for others. So... thank you." I pause, smiling. "You are... my Carl." I shrug, not knowing what else to say.

"And you're my Carol."

I turn my head to see Seth's face, a look of disgust on my own. "Say what?"

"Carol," he repeats. "I just figured it'd be better than calling you Carl 2.0."

I snort, bringing my free hand to my mouth. "Carl and Carol: the new and improved us's."

Seth nods, tightening his grip on my fingers and bringing our interlocked hands to his lips. His breath is warm against my skin as he plants a feathery kiss on my knuckles. Then he's dropping our hands into his lap, gracing me with the sweetest most secretive smile, and then returning his attention to the road.

I'm just getting comfortable in my seat as I kick my heels off, and pull my knees up to my chest when Seth makes a wrong turn. At least, I assume it's a wrong turn... until I vocalize my thoughts.

"I just want to show you something real quick," he explains, pulling the car to a halt in front of the campus auditorium.

I shoot him a quizzical look but decide not to question him further. I hurry to slide my shoes back on, and by the time I do, Seth has already opened the passenger door and is holding out his hand for me.

"How chivalrous," I praise, a proud smile on my face as I take his hand and slide out of my seat.

"Thank you, Madame." He puts one arm to his waist and bows dramatically, kissing the back of my hand as he does so. "Now, let's go!"

And then he's sprinting away from me, my hand dropping to my side as he leaves me behind. Halfway across the parking lot, he slows, spinning around and jogging in place as he grins goofily at me.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!"

"Seriously?" I half shout half squeal, pointing at the death traps strapped to my feet.

"Gaaaahh." He rolls his head back on his shoulders and groans at the sky before glancing back towards me, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. "Okay, fine."

And then he's bolting his way back toward me, something fierce in his determination. Before I can even mutter a scream of horror, he's swinging me up into his arms—cradling me like a bride—and racing back the way he came. Gosh, this guy has impressive stamina. If I ran even half the distance he just did while holding nothing, I'd be a slug pulling myself along the ground in exhaustion. How much time does he spend on cardio anyway?

I cling to his neck, dropping my head back so that the wind can whip through my hair. I hear Seth grunt with my careless movement, which only brings an evil smirk to my lips.

"Leaning back like that makes this about seventy-seven billion times harder than it needs to be," he complains, jostling me in his arms slightly to scare me. It doesn't work.

"Hey," I tell him, "you chose to carry me, so you must suffer the consequences." And with that, I'm leaning back even further, the hand that's clinging to his neck is now extended to its maximum capacity and I dangle myself from his arms like a dead body.

He grunts again, slowing his run down to a walk. I can feel his fingers slipping away from me, and just when I think he's going to drop me, he uses his knee to support my butt as he readjusts his grip.

"There," he says triumphantly. "That's better."

"Why don't you just let me walk?" I ask, my head still swaying back and forth as I lazily sprawl myself out in his arms.

"Because," he says, his breath now coming in and out with difficulty, "Tonight is your special night, and I refuse to be the cause of you forming blisters on those dainty little feet of yours."

"Oh," I say, bringing my head up quickly in alert. "So, tonight's not your special night?"

"Nope," he answers without hesitation. "Tonight is your special night, but it's my specialer night."

"That's not a word."

"Yeah, well, tonight it is."

"No need to get defensive," I joke. "I think it's a lovely word."

"Okay," he huffs. "Just shut up now because it's getting hard to talk."

"Oh?" I fake innocence. "Why's that?"

"Because," Huff. "I'm, trying to walk," Groan. "With an elephant in my arms."

I fake a hurt gasp, pressing the back of one hand to my forehead and flinging my head back dramatically. I'm having far too much fun moaning in fake heartbreak until Seth has enough and decides to jolt me upwards in a quick attempt to scare me into cooperation.

"I will drop you if do that again," he grumbles, taking the front steps into the auditorium building.

He finally reaches the main entrance and carefully sets me down. The moment I'm out of his arms, he leans over, resting his hands on his knees as he hungrily pulls air into his panting lungs. Still bent over, he turns his head slightly, his hair falling into his eyes as he looks at me.

"That's the last time I ever show you chivalry again." He sounds serious, but I don't miss the humor that flickers through his green gaze.

Then he straightens himself up, pushing his windblown hair off his forehead, and fishes a set of keys from his pocket. I hear the lock pop and then Seth is ushering me inside.

"Elephants first," he says.

I curtsy slightly before taking a step through the entrance, smacking Seth on the back of the head as I pass. He groans softly at my abuse but doesn't comment.

We walk through the pitch-black room, my fingers clinging to his arm as he leads the way. His phone is out, directing our steps, but I'm still slightly freaked out by my inability to see into the blackness that's surrounding me.

We reach a set of stairs and Seth leads me carefully up them.

"Stay here," he orders, and I balk.

He wants me to stand here... alone? In the dark? I swipe my hand out in front of me, intent on grabbing him before he can escape, but I miss and he's gone. I can hear his footsteps off to my left, but I can't make him out, especially since he seems to have slipped behind the stage curtains because I can no longer see his light shining.

I feel blind. I can feel myself blinking, but I can't see a darn thing. It's an unsettling feeling. So unsettling that I'm on the brink of a mental breakdown. Insanity suddenly seems like a very easy concept to grasp. No wonder so many people have stumbled down the road to crazy. You get stuck in a situation like this and only a few hours would need to pass before you're a goner. My mind is already conjuring up horrors that could take place around me and I'd never even realize it. Like, what if there's a dead body lying at my feet. Or, what if a man with a knife is standing directly in front of me. Or, what if the clown from 'It' is watching me and waiting for me to stumble and fall so he can capture me and eat my flesh.

Something grazes my shoulder and I let out an airy gasp, only to realize it's just the flowy material of my sleeve brushing against my skin. My heart's in a frenzy as I work to take my mind off blood and gore, but I can't.

And then a light flickers on, illuminating the stage.

I sigh in relief, tears almost threatening to release. I absolutely love horror stories... as long as they stay on the pages they're written on, or inside the TVs they're playing on. You introduce me to a real-life horror and I'll willingly bury myself in my parent's backyard just to escape.

A moment later, Seth slides out from behind the curtains and I nearly throw myself at him in relief. Good. No monsters ate him while he was gone.

He must see the fear on my face because he starts to chuckle. Real nice, jerk. Laugh at your petrified girlfriend. Instead, I just stick out my tongue and shake out the fear in my limbs.

"So," I say, glancing around at the creepy room. "What are we doing in here?"

He stares at me for a moment, shocked. "You've forgotten already?" he asks, gesturing to the stage we stand on. "This was where we shared our first moment."

"Our first moment?" I question. "Excuse me, but, that was my moment. I kissed you that day for my own pleasure."

I can see he's about to respond but then he freezes. "You did?"

Welp, I guess there's no time like the present when confessing your true intentions.

"Yeah," I say nonchalantly. "I kissed you that day purely for the joy of it."

"You're kidding." His face proves his bafflement. He honestly had no idea. "I figured you just really wanted that part in the movie."

"Really?" I ask doubtfully, a brow raised in question. "I'm a horrible actor."

"Actress."

"Like, on my list of dreams in life, acting is so low that you'd literally have to scuba dive to find it. I still have no idea why you picked me to be your actor."

"Actress."

"I'm such a poor actor, actually—"

"Actress."

"—that I even embarrass myself." I glance up at his face, pondering what his true intentions were that one fine day many months ago. "Why did you choose me to be the actor?"

He grumbles at my stubbornness to use the correct term before answering the question.

"Well," he sighs, "like I just said, this is where we shared our first moment." I just look at him blankly. "Believe it or not, you're not the only one who enjoyed that kiss."

"Oh really?" I ask, hoping he'll elaborate.

"I'm pretty sure I had actual dreams about it for weeks," he admits. "I mean, I've kissed plenty of girls in my lifetime, but that—" he pauses, his eyes drinking me in. "Of course, I still don't approve of the surprise kiss, but dang it, I wanted you so bad."

"And then you got to know me, and realized I was good friend material instead?"

He laughs. "No," he corrects. "I just wanted to get to know you as a friend first. If we couldn't get along as friends then how would we ever survive anything more than that? So, I trained my mind to think of you as only that—a friend. It worked... for awhile."

"Yeah," I say with a nod. "Until the night I cast my spell over you, forcing you to love me."

"Is that what happened?"

I slap him lightly on the shoulder before making a small circle and sweeping my gaze over my surroundings. "So, uh... what are we doing here?"

"Oh, right!" He snaps his fingers as if suddenly remembering something important, and then pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. He hands it to me, pride gleaming from his gaze.

I glance down at the scribbles on the paper. It's a bunch of tally marks and messy numbers where he's done some calculations. At the bottom is the number one-hundred-and-seventy. I quirk a brow and then shoot my gaze up to meet Seth's.

"Okay." He starts explaining before I can even question him. "So, exactly one year ago, I presented you with twenty-three and a half sunflowers and one-hundred-and-forty-seven baby's breath."

"Uh-huh."

"Totaling one-hundred-and-seventy flowers—give or take a half." He grins at me. "Because that's how long we'd been together, right?"

"Yeah?" My response comes out as an elongated question because I have no clue where he's going with this. If he presents me with 535 flowers, I'll die.

"Well, I've been keeping track of things for a year now, as you can see," he tells me, indicating the paper in my hands, "and I planned all of our dates to perfection."

"How so?"

"Since the day I asked you to be my girlfriend, all the way up until now," he says, excitement making his words come out faster, "we've been on a total of one-hundred-and-seventy dates."

"Wait." I freeze, peering at the paper in my hands again before piercing Seth with a look of surprise. "Really?"

"Yep."

"So," I begin. "Back when you were taking me on four dates each week, that was all to reach some quota?"

"Uh..." He seems slightly unsure of how to respond now. "Yeah...?"

"That's—" I shake my head side-to-side. "That's the freakin' cutest thing anyone's ever done!"

I think I see relief visibly wash through him, and I get this eager desire to pull his face to mine and kiss every inch of it.

"Right." He brushes off my emotional display and continues on. "So, I figured we should celebrate..." His words trail off, and I'm instantly anxious to hear his plans.

"And how do you propose we do that?" I ask.

"By doing just that," he says, and I watch with unblinking eyes as he slowly kneels down onto one knee, "by proposing."

I don't speak. I can't speak. I'm in utter shock. My heart has even vacated my chest and I'm sure it's jumping around ecstatically somewhere, but I'm too stunned to notice.

"Mercy," he says, his words soft with emotions I never even knew he had. "When I asked you if you loved me a year ago, I remember it took you three months to say it back, all because you were too stubborn to admit what you knew to be true from day one. But..." He takes my hand in his, "please don't wait three months to answer this question."

His eyes watch me intently, and I can sense him daring me to reject him.

"Mercy Nicholson," he begins hesitantly, "will you ma—"

"Yes!" I've got my arms around his neck before he can even finish his question. "Yes. Yes. Yes!"

"But," He fumbles to return my hug, "you don't even know what I was going to ask you?"

I pull away, a smile still frozen on my lips.

"Fine. Ask your question."

He clears his throat. "Mercy, will you ma....ke sure to feed my dog when I go on vacation next week?"

"You don't have a dog."

"Oh, right." Then he's pulling a small velvety black box from his coat pocket, "How about you just marry me then?"

And eight months later, I did just that.

The End

---

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