It's been a slow week. My friends and I spent the past weekend with excitement sizzling through our veins as we searched for our next adventure high, and I'm hoping that once class is out today, we can continue with our search. Unfortunately, Galena, Illinois isn't really the place for the thrill-seekers of the world. Someday, I want to escape... mainly because I'm sick of the hustle and bustle of the every day routine lifestyle. I need less predictability and a lot more spontaneity if I'm going to survive the rest of the year.

People say that Galena is a simple town, but I disagree. There are too many people here, too many cars, too many buildings. Maybe it's because I'm severely claustrophobic, but ever since I hit senior year, I've had an aching desire to escape this place and find solace on some long-forgotten farm where my only friends are the horses, chickens, and a single hound dog named 'Beef.' But contrary to how my complaints make it sound, my life is pretty good. I mean, I'm no 'Mr. Popular' but I've got a good group of friends and a solid reputation in my school. I'm comfortable... maybe too comfortable. Pridefully comfortable.

They say that arrogance can be a person's downfall. I'm just not expecting it to be mine.

I'm a good guy. I don't mess around with women, or cheat, or steal, or do drugs (anymore). Skipping classes on occasion and overdosing on energy drinks doesn't make me a rebel. Actually, I feel as though I blend in pretty well around here. I tend to do what's expected of me.

Glancing around my Biology class on this sunny Friday morning, I'm starting to wonder why I feel the need to blend in. What's the attraction in being just like everyone else? It's a question I ponder often, yet never do a darn thing about. Maybe being average is simply who I am.

As the bell rings, I sling my bag over my shoulder and saunter from the room. Arms brush against arms and stomaches dodge elbows as the halls fill with the chaotic bustle of high school. I breathe in the familiar scent of mold, metal, and Windex lingering in the air, realizing that this is my life for another two months.

'Hello's' are hollered in all directions as I make my way to my cluster of friends crowding the wide halls. Slapping of skin resonates into the noise as I high five Dillon. Though his face leaves much to be desired, the ladies can't seem to get enough of him. I assume it has something to do with his gym bod and gentle personality, but for some strange reason, the guy has yet to have a girlfriend.

I tend to think it has something to do with how comfortable he makes people feel. Girls just aren't intimidated by him. Or, Maybe it's because he hasn't grown out of his baby face yet. Whatever the reason, people love him anyway. He's the serious one of the group; the level-headed, genuinely caring guy that tends to coerce people into confessing their deepest secrets without ever having to utter a word. If I cared to be like anyone else in the world, it'd strive to be like him.

"What's up, man?" I greet, looping my thumbs through the straps of my backpack.

"They're talking about hitting up the that weird, old-fashioned ice cream place down on Main," he answers, nudging his chin towards the rest of the group. It's been a slow week, but we're finally free to get out and enjoy life again... and my friends choose ice cream.

"You realize that's the actual name of the place, right?" I tell him, briefly shifting my attention towards Clarice who's busy turning an everyday situation into the most dramatic scenario ever known to man. "It's literally called the 'Old-Fashioned Ice-Cream Parlor.'"

I see Dillon shrug his lack of care for this piece of information, before returning my attention to our other friends, a smile nudging at my lips. Clarice's eyes dance with excitement as she narrates her story with exaggerated hand gestures. It's not uncommon. She loves attention, and if she doesn't have a spotlight-worthy story to share, she'll create one. She's a good person, but she can be a handful. I've nicknamed her 'Small's', which she considers a compliment. I'll never tell her that the name came from the fact that I can only handle her in 'small' doses.

She flicks her wildly, curly blonde hair over her shoulder as her eyes find mine. I see the instant shift in her demeanor. A straightening of her spine, and falter of her ever-widening smile. I've noticed these subtle changes in her over the past few weeks and I'm not sure I like the possible meaning behind it. If she happens to like me, then I'm not complaining. I'd never be offended by someone liking me; I'm just a bit discouraged that the girl that makes my stomach flutter isn't the one reciprocating my feelings.

I shoot a glance towards Penny, only to find her brown eyes already studying me. She's got a perplexed look on her face, her dark brows scrunched in contemplation as her gaze swings between Clarice and me. I get the feeling she suspects a brewing romance between us, which has my heart sinking. Then she wiggles her eyebrows in my direction, and it becomes painfully obvious what she's hoping for. Seems she's anticipating a little romance between me and her best friend. How unfortunate for me.

"So," I say, interrupting a conversation between Dillon and Drew. "Ice cream?"

With everyone in agreement, we exit our high school and break up into our own vehicles. It's the start of the weekend, and since none of us are really the heavy partying type, we typically spend our days eating, watching TV, or outside biking, hiking, or swimming. With Spring finally coming to an end, we've been spending much of our time outdoors. I've finally been able to drag my motorcycle out of hiding, and as I hop on and slide my helmet over my head, I breathe in the refreshing scent of renewal.

The world is waking up from a seven-month slumber, and I feel as if a part of my soul is awakening with it. I rev the engine of my vintage Scrambler, taking off swiftly across the parking lot ahead of the others. The air still holds a hint of chill, but I don't care. My jacket does a decent job of warding off the cold, and after so long being forced into separation from my baby, it feels good to be riding her again. She's my first love. My true love.

I pull down Main Street, the old brick buildings lining the streets as if welcoming me into downtown Galena. I make a quick turn into a narrow alley and park my bike near a dumpster. I hang my helmet on the mirror before adjusting my jacket and making the short walk to the Ice-Cream Parlor. No one else has arrived yet, so I step inside. It's probably been two years since I last graced this place with my presence, but somehow the smell of sweet ice cream brings a pleasant childhood nostalgia to the surface.

The board on the wall behind the counter lists endless options to satisfy my sweet tooth, but nothing seems to jump out at me. I scratch the edge of my jaw, leaning my elbows against the curved edge of the glass ice-cream freezer as I peer inside.

"See anything you want?" a smooth voice asks from the opposite side. I know that voice. It's matured since the last time I heard it, but there's no denying the subtle accent that tinges her words.

My chest squeezes inward around my heart, stalling it for a moment as my eyes flicker up to meet her dark brown ones. She smiles at me, and though I try to return the gesture, I'm not sure if I did. My face feels like stone as I stare at her in shock and dread. I've done such a good job at avoiding her all this time, and now, just two months before I'm free from her inquisitive ogling, I'm forced to confront her.

I shift on my feet, oddly nervous in her presence.

"Hi," she says softly, breaking the tension with the simple greeting.

"Hey," I mutter, unable to ignore her now that we're face-to-face.

I watch her tuck a strand of silky black hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping to the floor before almost instantly shifting back up to mine. She squares her shoulders, her eyes boring into mine like she's trying to read me. I'm doing a horrible job of hiding my unease, but I can't control myself.

"How are you?" she asks, leaning towards the freezer and resting her forearms on the glass. She looks so composed, as if talking to me for the first time in five years is as simple as crossing the street.

"Great," I tell her, shoving my hands into my jean pockets and dropping my eyes to the ice cream options before me. "What do you suggest?" I ask, nudging my chin towards the dozen or so flavors on display.

She sighs before following my gaze and pointing at an orange-tinted ice cream in the corner of the freezer. I don't bother to question her on the flavor, but instead just shrug and tell her I'll take two scoops in a cup.

The bell chimes the arrival of more customers, and I know without turning who has just entered. Their voices carry throughout the entire shop, causing curious eyes to glance in their direction before dropping back down in disinterest.

I pay for my ice-cream before turning around, not bothering to mutter a 'thank you' or a 'goodbye' to Lynn. I can feel her eyes watching me from behind, but I don't have any interest in turning back. Instead, I shove my guilt into the deepest corner of my conscious and shoot a glare at my friends.

"What took you guys so long?" I ask, putting a scoop of ice-cream in my mouth. I pause to distinguish the flavor for a moment. It's not bad. Definitely not something I normally would have chosen, but certainly not repulsive.

"Clarice forgot a book in her locker and made us all wait for her to get it," Drew grumbles, clearly irritated that precious moments were lost when he could have been gorging himself on the blissful taste of Strawberry Cream Delight. I swear the kid would build a tent and live in this place if he could.

"I'll find a seat," I tell them, heading towards the back of the shop, as far from Lynn as possible.

I finish my two scoops before any of the others arrive, and when Clarice finally shows up, I excuse myself to use the restroom. It's mainly to avoid awkward conversation with her. She's a horrible flirt and usually just ends up making me feel excruciatingly uncomfortable as she fawns over me. I'm not sure if she realizes how obvious she is, or if she honestly thinks she's being subtle. Either way, I'm just not into it. Though, she flirts with just about every guy she runs into, so I'm not sure if she holds special feelings for me, or if I'm just one of many.

When I get back to the table, everyone is chatting, aside from Dillon, who just watches and observes. I swear his passion in life is to analyze people. He doesn't care to converse, but he loves to people-watch. He just happens to be one of those types that can creep on people without drawing any suspicion. His youthful face makes him appear far more innocent than he really is.

"Were you hiding?" he mutters, tilting his head towards the bubbly, blonde across from us as I sit down beside him.

I shoot him a warning glare, not in the mood to bring up Clarice and her obsessiveness. Actually, he was the one who first pointed out a shift in her behavior and brought it to my attention. It wasn't until just recently that I started to notice it too and I'm doing my best to deny the possible truth.

When Dillon only smiles in return to my scowl, I crack. My lips curve upward as I fight a smile from revealing my mood. Truthfully, Clarice's attention is flattering, even if it is rather obnoxious.

"Yes," I hiss, coughing to keep from laughing when I see him nod in a way that says he's known all along.

Clarice glances up, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. I can feel the question burning a hole into the tip of her tongue, but she only watches us. Her lips tilt upwards, and I know she's hoping I'll confess our secret conversation without ever having to ask. Well, too bad sweetheart. That ain't happening.

"What you two gossiping about?" Penny asks instead, forcing a groan up the back of my throat. I drop my gaze back towards my ice cream, swirling the spoon around in the empty bowl before sticking it in my mouth and grinning around it. I'm teasing her and she knows it. Her eyebrows quirk up in question, humor dancing on her lips as she waits.

"Oh, nothing," I explain, pushing my empty dish away from me.

"His love-life," Dillon cuts in.

I drop my spoon into my bowl, bringing the back of my fist to my mouth as I choke on a comeback. I don't know what it is about those words, but 'love-life' has always made me feel awkward. It's too serious. Love is the furthest thing from my mind. A love life is something that adults experience. I'm too young for this! I just wanna have fun. I don't need serious relationships clouding my judgment or my life experiences.

"Yeah," I laugh sarcastically. "My extensive love-life. That's definitely what we were talking about."

I hear Dillon chuckle from beside me and I glance over to see him watching Clarice's expression. I follow his line of vision, only to have my heart drop into the soul's of my feet when I see the glow on her face. Her teeth are on full display, a mischievous smile revealing her absolute delight in the topic of my 'love-life'.

I turn to Dillon, slapping him upside the head. This only causes him to laugh harder, and since he has the most contagious laugh on the planet, I can't help but join in. I catch glances from the rest of our friends only to find them shooting us curious looks even though they can't help but smile at our immaturity.

"You guys are idiots," Drew blurts, dipping a croissant into his strawberry ice cream and taking a massive bite.

"Okay," I say around a sigh, "Moving on from the topic of my love-life, and on to more important things... what are we doing after this?"

I let my eyes focus on each person at the table, hoping someone will have a brilliant idea, but nobody seems to have any suggestions.

"We could go climbing?" I throw out and receive immediate groans from the two girls. "You guys don't have to come." It sounds harsh, but I make sure that the smile on my face proves I'm only teasing... even if I'm not.

"Actually," Penny speaks up, "that's perfectly fine. Clarice and I can go shopping or something, right?" She nudges her friend in the side, clearly trying to convey some kind of unspoken female communication.

"Right," Clarice responds. "Yeah."

"You guys are horrible liars," Dillon says with a smile.

"Seriously," Drew confirms and I nod.

"What?" Clarice says with a shrug, faking innocence. "We've just got some girl stuff we need to do."

"Girl stuff." It's not a question, I'm simply repeating her words with as much disbelief and lack of care dripping from them as possible.

"What?" Clarice turns towards me, a smirk fighting for release. "You curious?"

"Uh..." I glance around the table at Dillon and Drew, who mirror my own look of disinterest, and then shrug. "Not really. No."

"Right."

She clearly doesn't believe me, and I couldn't care less. She just continues to send flirty smiles my way as I wait impatiently for Drew to finish eating. He's always the last one to finish because he tends to order so much more food than the rest of us.

"You're not even a little bit curious?" Clarice inquires again, and I get the feeling that she's hoping we'll ask.

"Well," I say, fixing my eyes on her matching blue ones, "considering that the term 'girl stuff' typically implies gossip, tampons, and mood swings, no, I'm not even remotely curious to know what you two plan on doing."

Laughter erupts from the opposite end of the table and I turn to find Penny with her head bent over the table as she laughs into the crook of her elbow. I just let my confused expression jump between the two girls as they both laugh until I can't stand it anymore.

"Okay, there's too much estrogen in here" I mumble, standing. "I'm going to go climb." I give Dillon and Drew pointed looks. "You two gonna join me?"

I'm almost surprised in their lack of hesitation as they both instantly stand.

"Yep," Dillon says, grabbing his dirty dish from the table.

"Definitely," Drew agrees, leaving his dishes and turning towards the exit.

"Do we need to drop you two at home first?" Dillon asks, pausing to glance back at the girls.

"Naw," Penny says, waving us out of the ice cream shop. "I don't live far. We can just walk."

Dillon shrugs, and makes his way to the front, offering a kind smile at Lynn. He sets his dirty dish on the counter, receiving a 'thank you' from her as we all exit. He's the only one who knows my history with her, but he's wise enough not to bring it up. As the nice guy in the group, he doesn't let my fowl opinion of her cloud his manners. I respect the gentleman that he is, but I have no desire to mimic his kindness towards the only person who has ever purposely hurt me.

We shove through the exit and out into the semi-cool air, parting ways as I head towards my motorcycle. I'm really hoping to get away before either of the girls decide to join me, but apparently, luck is not on my side.

"Wait, wait!" a shrill voice calls from behind.

Confused, I turn to find Penny jogging after me, her silky, chocolate hair billowing behind her.

"What's up?" I say, stopping to wait up for her.

She's slightly out of breath when she reaches me, though she only ran a block. She puts her small hand on my shoulder as she leans in to catch her breath. I mimic her movements, leaning back slightly, unsure as to her reasons for being so close. She's typically not the type to seek physical contact, so I can't help but be slightly suspicious.

"You okay?" I ask, bending slightly to see her expression. A smile lifts her lips as she tilts her head upwards to meet my gaze.

"I, uh..." Deep breathing. She laughs at her own lack of athleticism, but I can't help but just continue to watch her. "I have a question for you."

"Oh." I take a slight step back when Penny releases her hold of my arm. "What is it?"

"It's about Clarice."

I fight an eye roll, trying to keep my smile in place as excitement radiates from the petite brunette's expression.

"Do you..." She pauses to glance behind her, and then takes a step closer as she whispers. "Do you like her?"

Laughter slips from my lips. I should have expected this. As tough and unaffected as she likes to portray herself to be, Penny sure is a softy when it comes to romance. I stifle a groan as I roll my head on my shoulders to release the discomfort from my body.

"No." The answer is stern—sure. There's no arguing it and I can see that Penny understands this as the smile falls from her lips.

"Really?" She quirks her head to the side, hope still alive as she puckers her lips in anticipation.

"Yes, really," I confirm. " I do not like Clarice. She's not my type... at all."

"Hmmm." Penny drops her gaze to the ground as she scratches her head. "Who is your type then?" I can tell she's not prying. She's not asking with a secret desire that I'll confess my love for her, which just makes her reaction to my response that much more genuine.

"You, Penny," I tell her without hesitation. "You're my type."

And if the shock that shoots into her dark eyes isn't an indication, then the horror that falls into her expression half a second later, definitely is...

I just blew it.

----

Alrighty, so thoughts? 

Thoughts on Penny? I know most of you hate her simply because Jamie likes her when he's freakin' supposed to like LYNN!!! Gah! *huffs in frustration* But, ignoring that fact, how do you feel about her?