The alarm shrieked in my ear. It was a shrill, deafening screech. It was unnecessary, of course. I was already wide awake.

Near my feet lay a dozen journals that were scribbled in so much that its pages began to resemble minefields. On them were the plots, characters and scenes that had come to life through the years. I've lived in this world for sixteen long years and written for ten of them. I've never been able to get a single story published though.

These stories just wafted through my mind as I relaxed on long, summer days. I didn't do anything much. I wrote and the room was piled up with the most passionate romances. Yet, some people would call it 'doing nothing'. It made sense. To some, all that mattered was whether it added to your transcript. And universities, rarely look for a girl who does nothing but writing all day.

Yet, the debate team or the football team never had much appeal to me. It never had the deep, torrid emotions that writing did. Unfortunately, Sunshine Valley High had no club for writing.

"Why don't you start one?" Kegan said as we walked to school that morning.

Kegan Madile was my best friend. A tall boy with deep ebony skin and clear russet eyes were what many people deemed attractive. A lot of girls stared at him across the hallway. A lot of them fluttered their curled eyelashes at him or tried to make him sit with them during lunchtime.

"Kegan, come on, " Melissa said as she nudged him with her elbow. He was stiff. "I know you want to sit with us."

Melissa Theron was a pretty, voluptuous girl whose curves were envied by all womankind.

Here I was eating my chicken caesar salad and scribbling in my notebook when I was hit by a giant wave of spicy perfume.

'This will be interesting, ' I thought as I looked at her.

"Hello, Melissa, " Kegan responded politely. "Did you raid a cinnamon plantation today?" he asked, referring to the strong yet tantalisingly exotic perfume.

"Sit with us, " she said to him with a giant smile on her face.

"I'll be fine if Bianca wants to sit there, " he said looking at me with a shrug of his wide shoulders. 

As he turned towards me, the corners of his sharp mouth titled to form an alluring smirk. He lifted a finger to his throat. Clearly, he was not looking to spend a single second near Melissa.

I looked back into his eyes. Did I ever mention how warm I found them? They were like a furnace in a blizzard. Comforting and so awfully beautiful. Their expression made me laugh. It reminded me of his opinion on Melissa. He thought she was an oppressive, soul-crushing dictator. I disagreed.

"No one wants that weirdo to sit next to them. She should sit where she belongs, in that garbage bin, " she said rolling her eyes at the sight of me. "They like you."

She draped a fleshy, bronzed arm on Kegan's strong shoulders. He flung it off. Instead, his arms circled around me as he tried to drown off the giggles of Melissa and her friends.

I was close to him. Close enough to smell the sweat and the fresh air and ivory soap that together spelt out Kegan. It didn't matter that much then. My green eyes stormed with punished tears, which soon poured down my face.

I would have done anything to have Melissa praise me. I dreamt of the day when she would invite me to sit with her friends with that sparkly white grin of hers.

Yet, all I got from them were insults. 'I am not weird, ' I told myself. I was not. Or at least, I thought so.

"Why don't you just apologise to Bianca?" I heard Kegan snap.

I didn't dare look at him. His voice was so loud and harsh that I knew he was angry. Although Kegan was fun to be around, his temper was explosive.

"Okay, Kegan, chill, " Melissa said.

"You apologise to her and then I will, " he said as he tightened his embrace of me.

"Okay, fine, " Melissa said as she huffed. "I'm sorry, Bianca." Then she vanished. Maybe apologising wasn't her strong suit.

"Hey, " Kegan said wrapping his arms around me. "I love you okay. I love you and I will always be your friend."

His arms were a fortress against my invading fears. Yet, my mind stretched further. What if Melissa begged me to sit at her table? What if every eye clung longingly to me as I walked through our school's wooden gates?

"Look, Bianca, it doesn't matter, " Kegan was saying. "I've got your back. Besides, there will be a day when Melissa and her fellow demons look at you and realise how special you are." My eyes sparkled at the thought.

"When they do, just do me one favour, okay?" he said.

"What's that?"

"Humiliate them."

He then asked me to read one of my stories for him. I did. I read about how my heroine; Anna, snuck out every night to meet him. I decided to call him Aaron. It was a nice name. Besides, he was Jewish and Aaron sounded like a typical Jewish name.

I told Kegan about all the meetings Anna and Aaron had amidst the flickering street lamps. They met in secret. German girls did not date Jewish boys back then. At least, not in the open.

Kegan listened with interest brimming on his face. He usually hated romances. The cringes he gave whenever I opened a copy of 'Me Before You' or 'The Notebook' made me giggle uncontrolled. He detested the moment when Ms Greef; our English teacher, told us we were to study 'Romeo and Juliet' last year.

At first, I thought he'd treat my stories with the same level of disgust. He did not. He always told me how much he loved my stories and begged me to write more.

'So long as it keeps you entertained, ' I remembered muttering when he first praised my work.

"So you really liked it?" I asked.

"I loved it."

"Are you serious?" I said, hoping he wasn't mocking me. Inside, the pride in my chest swelled.

"As serious as I am when I tell you that you will be the next- the next J.K Rowling, " he said. "Sorry, I don't know any authors who write romance."

"Well, you'd better learn, because I am going to force you to read some."

"Don't worry I will, " he chuckled showing off the dimples that dotted the side of his mouth. "I'll read all the romances you have when you start learning to do your math literacy homework."

As we walked towards class, he asked me to meet him after school.

"Where are we going?" I asked but he just rolled his eyes and went, "you'll never guess."

I never did guess. By the time the school bell let out its final squeal, we were out of there.

Since Kegan was seventeen, he couldn't legally drive yet. He could, however, own a bike.

It was a glittering ebony beast that tore the wind. Kegan loved it.

We rode along the roads I had travelled on my entire life. As the wind wiped through my hair, all I could see was Kegan's shoulders.

"Morgan Bay?"

It certainly was. The clouds above us sparkled like cotton candy as the evening light turned them a soft pink. It was like something out of my stories. A few seagulls soared across the sky and into the haze of colours.

As I stepped towards the ocean's turquoise water, a hand held mine. A hand that was rough against my skin.

"Kegan, it's beautiful."

"I know, " he said. "Just like me."

I rolled my eyes as he laughed. Yes, I could say that Kegan looked really good. He towered well over six-feet and he had muscles that bulged out of the maroon school-uniform.

"Thanks for what you did for me back there, " I whispered as the roughness of his fingers spread out on my hand.

"What are you talking about?" he said. "I don't recall agreeing to do your math literacy homework for you."

"I'm talking about what you did when Melissa came by, " I said. "But I do hope you agree to do my math literacy homework. Because that class is hell."

"Dealing with that fake is nothing, Bianca, " Kegan said.

"What did you just call her?" I said. People usually had a lot of things to say about Melissa. But those things were usually 'hot' or 'sexy'. Not fake. Unless she has had plastic surgery. And considering the size of her derriere, it would come as no surprise.

"I called her fake, " he said. "She plays games, Bianca. With everyone. She fakes sick so she can't do her homework. She acts all nice when she finds a boy worthy of her attention. She's made of plastic."

"So that's why you don't like her?" I asked.

"Yeah, " he said looking at me with those dark eyes. "She's not like you, Bianca. You're real. And you're special because of it."

As the sun began to slide across the horizon, I felt his arms circling around me. He told me I was real. He told me that I was genuine and precious. Yet, why didn't I feel it?