"What if this does better than my other books..?"
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"Rose, catch!" my best friend since grade school commanded.

He should have known better. I, Rose Red Snow White, was an outcast, and thus physically incapable of playing sports or catching flying objects. And this particular object was a football.

"Ow!" I cried as it connected with my forehead and knocked me off my feet.

In a second, my-best-friend-Scott was kneeling beside me with a smile that was both amused and apologetic. "What part of 'catch' don't you get?"

Before I could answer, a mysterious figure appeared mysteriously, shoving Scott out of the way like a beautiful bulldozer. He offered me his hand and reeled me up off the floor. His eyes were ultramarine with a hint of green, a dash of warm brown and a sprinkle of red - ordinary, yet so enchanting as they gazed at me.

"You should watch where you're going," he said coldly, like the gentleman he was.

With that, he disappeared into my school, One Direction High, never to be seen again.

"What a jerk."

Oh yes, Scott was still here. I helped Scott up and we dusted ourselves off, before he took a hand through his healthy head of hair. He probably took more care of it than I do mine, but I still look like I belong in a Loréal ad.

Scott was running for his football when the first bell rang and we knew we were going to be late for class. That was okay though, because when I'm with Scott, then I only get Ms. Ramires's snarky glance - when I'm alone, it's instantaneous detention. The reason for that was: she considered Scott to be attractive. I'd call her a paedophile, but it's his fault for always sending her charismatic smiles and compliments every now and then.

"Looking good today, Ms. R," he told her casually, while I stood panting in the doorway from our brisk walk.

Ms. Ramires blushed and stared bashfully at the papers on her desk. "Thank you, Scott. Please take a seat."

She hardly acknowledged my existence, but then again, no one ever did - except other awkward girls and ridiculously gorgeous men. I looked at Scott now as we waded to our desks, but I didn't see it. His muscled footballer's frame, his strong jaw, his doe brown eyes and socially acceptable haircut - what could she possibly see in him?

Ms. Ramires went on with her Maths lesson, although I was pretty sure she taught Spanish, and then it was time for recess. I couldn't remember what happened to my other classes, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter because that was when I saw the boy who was never to be seen again, again. He was brooding lonesomely in the corner of the cafeteria, the sunlight shining upon him, and only him, through the windows. After staring at his aphrodisiacal glow for five eternal seconds, I turned to my table, where I sat alone because I am an outcast even though my best friend is a jock and I could easily join him at the cool table.

"Hi."

I nearly choked on my green peas.

"I saw you staring at me from across the room," he said. I nodded dumbly, my eyes bright with wonder as he spoke. "I just came over to tell you that we cannot be together and I want nothing to do with you."

There were tears in my eyes, my heart stopped.

Wait. What?

I stuttered, "But you came to me."

"That doesn't matter!" he yelled, although no one else seemed to care. "You need to forget about me."

How? I couldn't do that. He was tattered, broken inside, and I wanted him now more than ever! Of course, his hotness factored in there somewhere, but that was only secondary.

As he modelled out of the cafeteria and the sunlight followed him, I thought about how to make him see that we were simply destined for each other. The rest of the school day was a blur as he flooded my thoughts.

That was when I knew.

I was in love with him.