--Hey readers! Ok so this is my very first book and just a warning the chapters are loooooong! Please give it a try and comment or like, I would love to get feedback on what you guys think(:! Also I have a little quote to start my book off for you guys!--
"She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible. She walked with the Universe on her shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings." ~Ariana

Chapter 1

Walking through the door to my house, I see a common sight; my father is passed out on the couch with at least nine beer cans spread around him. Instinctively I start to pick them up. Ever since my mom's death, my dad has been perfectly drunk. He barely sobers up for his job. But as he's the café owner in my small town, Ciely, he usually doesn't have to show up.

Our town is in a tiny state called Delaware. You would never see it on a map unless you knew what you were looking for.

Staring at his slackened face, I can practically see the stench of alcohol roll off of him. This man has never been a good father. Once, when I was five, he had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, still clutching a can of Bud Light. The brilliant man had left the stove on, after attempting and then failing to boil noodles.

The bright red of the stovetop had fascinated my toddler mind and after climbing the counter and touching the blistering heat my screams had woken him up. After turning the stove off, he yelled at me for being so stupid.

When it comes to the present day, it's really me who makes the money, cleans the house, and makes sure the bills are being paid. One of us has to be responsible. And since Dad hates both the world and my existence, he's not exactly always in a helpful mood.

When I was younger I used to sit for hours and wonder why he and my Mom despised me. The answer never came. But today, I at least know one reason my Dad hates me; he blames me for my mom's death.

It was four years ago when she was killed. I had been hiding out in my room reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou. I remember it being an assigned reading assignment, but I was actually enjoying it.

I'd heard her stomping footsteps as she'd clomped up to my room. When she slammed my door open, I had somehow already knew what she'd wanted from me.

"You got any money for cigarettes?" She'd demanded, her fingers already twitching with the withdrawal she'd seemed to be experiencing.

Not even looking up from my book, I had shook my head. She'd let out a huge sigh before stomping back down the stairs, no doubt to raid Dad's "secret" stash of bills he keeps hidden in a kitchen cabinet.

After a few minutes, I had assumed she'd found the money as I heard the slamming of our front door. With Dad being in town with the car, I knew she was going to walk to town. Even though the walk was quite a distance, I knew my mom wouldn't be deterred from her smoke.

It was later that night that the police called the house to inform us my mom had been stabbed, and left to die on some back road. They told us it must have been a robbery gone wrong, because both her money and phone had been taken.

All I know, is when I got home that night, my dear father had locked the doors and thrown all my clothing out onto the dirty driveway. He kept screaming that I should have been with her. That it should have been me. It took him two days to forget to lock the back door, before I could get in.

Going into my room I plop down on my blue comforter and plug in my iPod to a small speaker. As Lindsey Sterling kills it on the violin, I pace around my room, thinking about what I want to do. I'd finished my homework in school, so I've got nothing to procrastinate on. I'm also not in the mood to watch TV. Maybe I could read the new book I'd just gotten from the library, The Rest of Us Just Live Here. I've heard it's suppose to be really good.

A crash downstairs suddenly brings me out of my thoughtful state. Dad's awake. One good thing that came out of growing up with his terrible behavior is that I became almost numb to his drunken rages. It's been a long time since they've scared me. Luckily, if he tries to come up here, he'll have to contend with the stair case, as my room is technically the attic, and he also doesn't have a key to my sturdy wooden door.

Now I know what most people would think of me. They'd say I'm dumb for not calling the cops, or telling some adult that my dad is a sometimes violent, drunk. But to be honest, he only became violent two years after my mom's death. Before he mainly just yelled and stomped about. I'm also so close to graduating high school this year, and then I can take my chances and find someplace I can stay.

I've been saving money for years, preparing for the day I'd need to find some apartment to hole up in. My plan from there is to get a job, and find some community college I can get into. If I brought my dad's abusive nature to light, that future may be squashed. Maybe that's just an excuse but I can't risk my chance to be free.

My dad's drunken voice sounds from downstairs.

"Glet...don...here!" My dad's yell vibrates off the walls of the house, each word slurred.

"Sorry dad, but I'm really preoccupied at the moment. Maybe another time." I call down in a sweet voice.

That is immediately followed by loud, banging footsteps on the stairwell. Maybe he's not as drunk as I thought. Who knows, half those beer cans could very well have been his breakfast. Quickly turning my iPod off, I lock my door and put a chair under the doorknob for extra protection.

I glide to my window and grab my plan B bag. Having a room in the attic would usually mean I'm trapped, but every since I've lived in this room I've had a escape route. Directly outside my window, sits a giant oak with its thick, strong branches outstretched towards me, as if to say "Jump! I'll catch you!"

It's been my escape whenever my needs are great. I'd say right about now is a pretty good time to leave. Just as I crouch on the windowsill, another loud bang echoes at the top of the stairs. It sounds like he just put another hole through the wall.

With a sigh, I leap towards the long, sturdy tree limb extending towards me. Landing with grace I keep jumping from limb to limb until my feet hit the ground running. It only takes ten minutes to get to the thin, cold stream that runs through the woods behind our house, and continues on to some larger body of water.

This being the place, I most like to relax, I kick off my sneakers and stick my sore feet into the cool, inviting current. Little fish scatter when they see me and then quickly regroup down stream.

This is my heaven in paradise. I found it a few years back, when the woods provided a far more comforting place, than my own home. Whenever I have a problem or am so angry that possible homicidal thoughts rush through my mind, I come here to cool off. It is too small to swim in, but you can see clearly through the sparkling waters to the smooth pebbles at the bottom. The trees around gush with large green leaves that in the fall turn a breathtaking combination of orange and yellow.

Feeling thirsty, I take my pack off and I search through it. Inside are the necessary things I need away from home: an extra pair of clothes, two water bottles, energy bars, a lighter, and some cash tucked into my wallet. Some might think packing so heavily is a bit of an overkill, but I never know how long it will take before my dad gets bored with his rampage.

After taking a swig of water I pull my feet from the stream and let them dry on the warm ground. I think about getting up and going back to my room for a book to read, but then the rustle of leaves and the steady trickle of water makes my eyelids start to droop. The night before my dad had his TV volume up to an ear throbbing level, and it cost me a few valuable hours of sleep.

"I'll...just close...my eyes," yawn, "for a moment."

***

The second I wake up I know something is wrong. My stomach is clenching tightly and I have this freaky feeling I'm being watched. Fear starts to climb its way into my mind but I manage to zip up my pack and slide my sneakers on without looking too spastic. Hoping I'm wrong and it's not some weirdo ready to pounce on me at any second, I start jogging back the way I came.

Although I'm not being contacted by modeling agencies desperate for my picture, I've been told my curly blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and short yet curvy figure is cute. I'm worried that some creep in the woods might find cute enticing.

Looking down at my watch, I notice it's almost eleven at night. Not many people are out at this time and my best bet is to get home and hope my sturdy door has held against the other threat in my life.

In only a couple of minutes flat I'm at the base of my giant oak, and using both my arms and legs I'm at my window in seconds.

Thankfully my door is still closed and locked, and the house seems quiet. Checking over my shoulder I almost scream at what I see. A large black shape at the edge of the woods stands right where I came running from. Straining my eyes, I notice the figure has two odd shapes behind its back. It looks human, but from this far away I can't be sure. What I am sure of is that it's staring straight at me. Gasping I trip over a protruding limb and fall straight back into the open window. Scrambling back up from my floor I stare out into the darkness, but nothing's there.

Feeling a chill creep up my spine, I quickly shut my window and lock it. I close my shades as well, leaving me in my dark room. Not many things scare me, not even my intoxicated dad, but things I can't see? That terrifies me.

So for tonight I change into my softest PJ's, and climb into bed. As my eyes close, and my thoughts drift off, I can't help but to feel those unseen eyes are still on me.

Chapter 2

At school the next day I go straight over to my best friend Eliza's locker. If there ever was an odd friendship it would be ours. We're just about the exact opposite in every way.

The physical differences between us starts with her being 5'7, and me just barely reaching 5'2. Not only her long legs, but she's also gifted with a curvy figure. What I'm sure anyone notices first upon meeting her, is her fiery red hair. The curly mass is cut stylishly short to accent her sharp facial features. Her eyes, unlike my bright ones, are an earthy brown with a touch of clover green around the pupils. 

Although I'm not a weak, mousy girl I don't like to outwardly argue with others or cause scenes, but Eliza's never been afraid to tell you exactly what she thinks, no matter where the argument happens to take place.

Even though Eliza has a lot of friends in our school, her sharp tongue earns her many enemies. The person special enough to top her hate list is Vicki.

Vicki is one of those beautiful ice queens, with her perfectly sculpted bleach blond head dyed purple at the ends, and cool blue eyes. I'm completely against the cliché of blonde's being the only scantily clad, high school bullies to roam the earth, but she seems to want to prove all the stories right.

When Eliza came to this town three years ago she didn't take any of Vicki's pushing around or bullying. Instead she pushed back, and they have hated each other ever since. If Vicki had just let the whole thing drop, then Eliza wouldn't of had to retaliate. Sadly both girls are always fighting for the last word, so the arguments never cease to end.

As I approach, I notice Eliza is arguing with a pretty girl with the skin of a rich coffee bean. She's just about Eliza's height, but with a waist the size of my pinky, and I recognize her from my Chemistry class. I think her name is Pepper.

They seem so engrossed with their discussion that I start to turn around, but Eliza catches my eye and waves me over.

Hesitating only a second I walk up to her and maybe-maybe-not Pepper.

"Hey, Eliza. I could go if you want me to." I suggest quickly.

"No, of course not!" Eliza replies loudly. "This is my friend Marie Bryon," she says to her other companion. "And Marie, this is Pepper Reely from my English class. We were just talking about a project we needed to finish. She was just leaving, weren't you Pepper?" It sounded more like a command than a request, and before Pepper leaves she turns to me.

"It was nice to meet you. Cute boots, they really go with your shirt." Her voice flows like honey, and she floats away leaving a slight scent of jasmine behind her. I stare after her long curly black hair until she disappears into the crowded hallway. For some reason, I feel like I've seen her somewhere other than Chemistry class. Shaking my head, I look back at Eliza.

She smiles as if nothing is wrong but I know better. "What was with the command back there? A little rude."

"She isn't doing her part of the project for English class. I had to make a point." I would've let it drop and not even worried about it, but then she casts her gaze to the left for a second and then brings her steady eyes back to me. After three years, I had learned that that was her telltale sign of lying. We had grown close enough to be like sisters, so it was hard to lie to one another.

My mind rationally tells my curiosity that it's probably nothing and Eliza would have told me if it was important. Staring at her for another second I get to the point I wanted to make before I saw Pepper.

"Would I be able to come over to your house this weekend? There's this new movie out and we could go see it." She seems relieved that the subject is being changed, but she avoids my question all together and goes into a little rampage.

"I heard that you and Vicki got into a fight yesterday, and you beat her skinny little body into the ground! Sadly it was only with words. So diplomatic." She sighs, sounding disappointed. "First of all, why didn't you invite me? If you couldn't have done that, pictures would do fine. Oh, and next time how about you not use words, and go for her face!" Eliza finishes her rant with her arms akimbo.

Being used to her randomness I let my mind slip to yesterday where Vicki had picked a fight with me in the school parking lot. She had ended up with a red face and minced words. Vicki could pull off being a spoiled brat, but she wasn't very educated in the fine art of comebacks. "Look, it wasn't that big of a deal, and I may not like Vicki but with her bird bones, she'd probably break in half before I even swung a fist."

Just then, the bell rang and rolling my eyes I try my last attempt at getting an answer. "So, can I come over tonight and stay for the weekend?" I'm already walking down the hall to my first period, and Eliza has no problem yelling her response.

"Of course you can, and this conversation is not over!"

Smiling I jog the rest of the way down the hall so I don't have to hunt down a seat.

***

Entering my fourth period class, I'm just about to go to my regular seat in the back when I notice someone sitting in a desk right next to mine, making me stop dead in my tracks.

This guy is obviously new. Not sure why he transferred here after the first month of school, but maybe he's just moved to town. Looking at him now, I feel that awkward shyness descend upon me. The kind of shyness that I experience upon seeing a cute guy.

He's not the hottest guy I've ever seen, but the way his posture is confident, and at ease makes him that much more attractive. His long arms and legs are stretched out in front of him, and clad in black jeans and a dark blue shirt. His skin is tan, like he spends all his time relaxing in the sun. Or working out in the sun, I think as I notice his upper body. He's built like boxer, with wide shoulders, a broad chest, and muscular biceps.

I probably would have stayed there forever if it weren't for a flood of students rushing in to take their seats. Embarrassment fills my mind with urgent words of how I should move from the open door way instead of standing there with my mouth open like a dog with its tongue hanging out.

This guy is different from all the other idiotic boys that run about my school. Despite what the movies and tv shows suggest, my high school isn't filled with hot jocks, ready to sweep us girls off our feet. Instead they're hormonal, inappropriate, and sometimes awkward teens, that would rather play hours of video games instead of woo a girl. This...man is not anything like them. Especially since he looks more like a teacher than student. There's nothing about him that suggest "awkward" or "teenage-boy". Either he matured fast or he's failed. Multiple times.

When he shifts in his seat I notice another interesting trait about him; his hair. It's dark, almost black, with splashes of deep caramel and hazelnut that shine only when the light hits it a certain way. It also has a windblown look to it, like he just took a walk along the beach, and it's in no way "boy-ish". Truthfully that whole statement about tall, dark, and handsome guys being overrated? Not. True. At. All.

That's when I notice other girls start to stare at him and with the same look I probably had only moments before. He's new. He's good looking. He's fair game.

There's only one empty seat next to him, as his desk is next to the wall, and it's usually where I sit.

Before any of the others can, I walk quickly over to him and sit down. I can feel his gaze on my every move as I unpack my books. Something familiar tugs at my mind but I brush it away.

As I'm retrieving a pencil from my pencil case, I catch sight of long legs leading up to a painfully tight and short skirt, stepping up right between our desks. Trying not to wince I know exactly who it is. The wicked witch of the west, Vicki.

"I don't believe we've met." Vicki's words come out loudly, and I wonder if she thinks he's deaf. Maybe it's just me, but each syllable seems to rattle my eardrums. "I'm Vicki Waverley, head of the volleyball team and actress in the drama club, so I know the whole layout of the school. If you'd like-," before she can get the next part of her 'catching-the-cute-guy' speech, the new guy interrupts.

"Well good for you, but this isn't really a job interview, so if you would mind not getting me in trouble with the teacher on my first day, and go back to your seat, then that would be great." His voice is stiffly polite, and despite his words I can tell he's trying not to be cruel. I don't know about other girls, but seeing maturity in a guy is more attractive than any physical feature.

Vicki's jaw hits the floor with a tiny clink and I'm willing to bet this is the first time any boy has ever blatantly rejected her. I have to fight the urge to applaud the new guy.

Of course, only moments later does Vicki snaps out of her wounded puppy dog look and into a twisted scowl, making her clear blue eyes into cold daggers. Which she turns on me. Even when it's her fault for striking out on a guy she blames me or someone else that she happens to hate. Before I can interject with anything, the new guy speaks up again.

"Amazing that your still here. I think I hear your dignity calling for you back at your own desk." The boy says with boredom melting into his words. Okay, so maybe he does have a little bit of teenage-boy immaturity in him.

That gets her moving. All the way back to her seat at the front where she fumes like a five year old, who just got rejected by her new toy.

"Did that icy glare of her's cut you deep?" It takes a second to notice that the deep, sarcastic voice is being directed at me.

Turning to him slightly I feel my heart skip a beat.

Something I didn't get the chance to notice before are his eyes. They're a dark brown, with flecks of gold and caramel color, just like his hair. His bangs are swept away from his forehead, and farther down I notice a little scar that cuts a pale path through his right eyebrow. I am suddenly finding it a lot harder to not stare.

After another awkward second of silence, I clear my throat and try to talk without sounding like a bumbling idiot. "Umm...yeah, I think I will survive. I mean I've gotten worst battle scars from her. Like the day she made a rumor about me involving a certain guy on a certain night. I got a scratch on my elbow and she earned a large bruise on her back from where I pushed her into her car. After that I felt a little bad, but she had it coming..." I stop myself from rambling on, and embarrassment sends a blush across my face. Why'd I just tell him that? Annoyed by my amazing ability to say something stupid in front of guys, I risk a glance his way and I'm surprised to see genuine interest in his eyes. It's also mixed with amusement as the corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk.

"Well, as long as you're okay now." Letting that statement hang in the air he leans closer so that I can feel his cool, minty breath on my cheek. "By the way, my name is Nathaniel Evanson. But you can call me Nate."

Watching the teacher walk up to the board and begin his long lector, I whisper my words. "Thanks for saving us the torture of Vicki's I'm-perfect-speech before. By the way, my name is Marie Bryon, but you can call me Marie." I mimic his tone and voice perfectly. That gets a smile out of the both of us.

I hold my hand out for him to shake and all he does is stare at it. I know it's strange for a girl in high school to shake hands during a greeting, but I like to consider myself more grown up than others my age. After another moment, I start to pull back when his hand shoots out to meet mine. When I feel his warm fingers wrap around my small hand it sends shivers up my arm, across my chest, and finally to my heart. My blood starts to pump faster and I'm very aware of his weirdly familiar, yet welcoming scent. It's a mix of a wooded and spice smell making my stomach clench tightly.

But just as quickly as the wave of emotions started, it ended, as soon as he pulled his hand away.

Taking a few deep breaths I try and concentrate on our teacher, Mr. Williams up front, but I find my eyes keep wandering to Nate. Strangely enough I feel his gaze on me at times.

By the end of class, my pencil is clutched in my hand so hard I can see the whites of my knuckles.

Looking down at my open page I see a name drawn in curvy lettering at the top corner. A tiny gasp escapes me.

Like some school girl, I had drawn Nathaniel Evanson across the corner of my page, but it was the handwriting that really struck me as strange. I've never even learned how to write in cursive, and yet the name is drawn elegantly, with thought seemingly put into each pencil stroke.

It takes me a second to snap out of my curious wonderings on how I could draw in such beautiful handwriting, when I hardly know enough cursive to sign my name. Blinking a few times, I am able to come back to the present and the familiar voice and warm hand that is wrapped around my upper arm.

"Marie, are you alright?"

Finally, I register Nate by my side with a concerned look. Again I find myself staring without a word. Stop being weird! Talk to the guy!

Clearing my throat I answer his question as clearly as I can. "Yes, I'm fine. I...I just blanked out for a few seconds."

He smiled, showing off a melt-into-goo-worthy smile. "Well it's a good thing it's time for lunch." Nate reaches for my books, I'm sure to try and help me quickly gather my things, but I snatch my notebook away and slap it close before he can see his name. Ninety minutes of sitting next to this guy, and I've officially become a creeper.

Nate raises an eyebrow as I clutch the notebook to my chest. "Um...I'm fine, thanks. You go onto lunch, and I'll pack up my things."

Again he smiles, and this time he looks amused. "Very well then." He tilts his head towards me in what I assume is a farewell. Maybe he's just as strange as me when it comes to greetings and goodbyes. "I'm hoping to see you soon."

When he exits, I can't help but to wonder why I feel like I know him. He's the second person I've met today I can't help but to feel I should remember. But I seem far more affected by him than Pepper. That's interesting.

Chapter 3

Around seven, I pack an overnight bag and grab my keys to a used but fairly new truck outside in the driveway. Last year on my seventeenth birthday I had raised enough money from countless baby-sitting hours, and from my job at the café, that I was able to buy this gas guzzler.

Since my dad isn't home, I leave a note saying I'll be out and then I run outside and jump in my truck.

Twenty minutes later I arrive at Eliza's house, a one story home right next to a small pond that Eliza and I had spent our first summer together as friends catching bull frogs.

Lily Greenwood, Eliza's mother, meets me at the door with a smile and a hug. She's the only caring mother I have ever really known and loved. My biological mother was dead to me before she was actually laid six feet deep. The first time I met Eliza's mom, she insisted that I call her Lily, and not Ms. Greenwood or Ms. Lily. It was awkward speaking to an adult so informally, but she made me feel so comfortable around her that it became a natural habit.

"Marie, it's good to see you! Eliza is in her room." She says and then yells so her daughter can hear. "It would be nice if a certain someone would give me a heads up, so that I don't look like a bum!"

That makes me smile because just like Eliza, her mother looks as if she has just stepped off a fashion magazine. Her blue sweater is modest yet flattering to her curves, combined with jeans that compliment her long legs. Adding long brown hair that has started to gray at the roots she looks like one of those cool moms ready to cook a full course meal.

Aside from the fashion in clothes, their house is like a museum. Walls lined top to bottom with shelves filled with mermaid statues, glass dragons, and clay figures. They even have a small harp sitting delicately in the corner as if waiting for an angel to come down and play it. There's also a deadly looking samurai sword perched above a tiny fireplace that crackles with a warm inviting flame. The furniture around is huge in an overstuffed way, and they're all comfortably worn.

My personal favorite place in the house is their kitchen, where an oven always has some gourmet dinner baking. Their large chairs always swallow me whole whenever I sit down to gorge myself.

"I'm afraid she's on the phone with Royce. She's been talking to him for a few hours now." Lily takes my coat and waves me into the house. We smile at each other one last time before she walks away to enter her bedroom.

Eliza once told me that her father had left as soon as Lily had told him that she was pregnant. Apparently he wasn't the fatherly type. Lily and him hadn't been married at the time, and since Eliza hadn't even gotten a chance to know him, she doesn't bother talking about him much.

I walk into her room and step over the usual disregarded book bag and purse. She's draped on a large chair placed next to her desk, with a phone plastered to her cheek. Even if Lily hadn't told me who she was on the phone with, I would have guessed it the second I heard her voice and saw her expression. Her tone is excited, her eyes bright, and her face completely content. A sure sign of a girl in love. When I first met Eliza at age fifteen, she and Royce were dating already.

They are the cutest, most inseparable, and at some points very annoying pair ever. It was like being around a married couple; they fought, drove each other crazy, and were beyond in love.

"Hey, Eliza. Hey, Royce!" I yell the last part so Royce can hear me through the phone.

Eliza doesn't even jump at my sudden intrusion. She just looks up at me, smiles, and says goodbye to Royce.

"What's up?" She asks swinging her legs around to face me as I sit across from her on a matching red chair.

I take a deep breath before answering. "Actually, something kind of weird happened today."

"What?"

"Well in fourth period today I met a new guy." I start cautiously. "He was...well, he was really attractive, like not James Bond attractive, more roguish. His dark hair and eyes have like hidden caramel colors. He's really tall with the body of a professional boxer or maybe a swimmer. His name is Nathaniel Evanson. But the weird part is that I feel like I know him. It's so strange, but the feelings that rushed through me was not normal for strangers, so I must have seen him somewhere..." I trail off from going on when I see her expression.

It's abnormally guarded, like she is trying to hide her thoughts.

"What's wrong Eliza?" My question seems to catch her off guard.

"Nothing, I'm just surprised you said that. I mean we could pass a guy that is a glass of ice cold water worthy and you don't even look twice! I was starting to worry about you switching to the other team, if you catch my meaning. I mean I'd still love you and all, but I was starting to wonder." Her words and expression are excited, but there is something in her eyes that gives her away. But what's her reason for lying this time?

"Hey! Royce and I were just talking and he said that he was at the theater, trying to pick out a movie, and I'm thinking we should catch up to him. We can watch a movie like you suggested before, and then afterwards we can let him buy us some coffees. Iced for me, and boiling lava for you." Her sudden change of topics isn't strange, but for the second time in less than a minute, it makes me suspicious on whether or not she is lying about knowing Nate.

Then I see her genuine excitement at the prospect of seeing Royce, and I cave. You try being suspicious and stubborn to the puppy dog eyes!

"Yeah that sounds great, but if you guys start making out in front of me again, I will throw gummy bears at your face." I warn with a straight face.

"Good, because I love gummy bears." She informs me with a serious tone.

***

We use my truck since Eliza has yet to get a vehicle herself, and in less than fifteen minutes we're at the Middle Mall Theater. Her house is practically right next to the theater and despite the traffic everything is right next door.

"Hey, there's Royce's car! Park next to it." Eliza demands with the same glow to her face I see anytime he is brought up.

"Eliza, you are so transparent when it comes to Royce. Your whole face practically outshines my truck's headlights, and I'm pretty sure they get their energy from the sun." I laugh slightly as I pull into one of the few empty spots.

"Oh trust me, my single, blonde friend. I know a girl, who just at the mention of her guy's name, will literally get weak at the knees." Eliza grabs her purse, and I put the truck into park before pulling the keys out.

"Who is she?" I ask with little interest. It's hard watching everyone around you fall in love when you yourself are most likely destined to own five cats, and forever buy the 95% off chocolates the day after Valentines Day.

"That's classified. Now come on, Royce is probably already waiting in line with a ticket."

We both hop out of the truck and I have to laugh at her statement. "Are you kidding me? He's probably wasting all his money on the Lord of the Rings pinball game!"

It was true. Though he doesn't look like it, Royce is a huge dork. A funny, cute, blonde dork that is. When I first met him he gave me a huge smile, and then picked me up in a crushing hug. He looks like a guitarist with his sandy blonde hair, around 5'11 frame and medium muscle tone body. He also sports a farmer's tan, and the only thing that gives him away as a dork is his ridiculous shirts.

Walking into the movie theater, Royce unknowingly proves both of my points. We spot him in a concentrated game of pinball and the back of his shirt says, Luke...I am your father. Underneath Luke Skywalker has his hand on his face, looking like a screaming little girl.

Like I said, dork. Not that I don't appreciate a Star Wars reference.

We start to walk over to him when a figure moves out of the shadows and into the light. His broad shoulders shake with laughter at whatever Royce has said.

My insides seem to melt at the sight of his familiar face making me freeze in my tracks.

"Eliza, that's the guy I was telling you about! What is he doing here? Did you know he was going to be here?" I ask as excitement shoots through me. A little fear ebbs at my mind for how unnaturally ecstatic I am to see a total stranger.

"No, I didn't know he was going to be here. Royce failed to mention that when I called and told him we'd be here. Maybe we should leave. Let them have their little bromance date." She turns to the doors, but I can't seem to get my feet moving as my eyes trail to his dark ones. I have this odd urge to rush over to him and lean in close, so I can see the flecks of caramel and gold in his eyes. Running my hand through his black hair is another temptation that runs through my mind. These thoughts scare me as much as they excite me.

Like he can feel my eyes on him, he turns my way. Our gazes lock and my breath catches. But his expression is locked up tight and it is impossible to see a reaction.

He turns to Royce, says a few words and then leaves to go to the snack bar. I have to force myself not to watch his graceful walk.

"Marie! I thought we were going to leave." Eliza grounds out as she materializes beside me.

"Well, Royce and Nate know we are here now and it would make us look like cowards if we just left."

Proving my point for the third time tonight Royce waves us over. Forgetting her previous desire to leave, Eliza grabs my hand and runs over to him, which is very impressive considering the knee length, high heeled boots she is wearing.

"Hey bird, looking gorgeous as always. Cat, looking feisty as usual." Royce says smoothly, using the nicknames he made the moment he met me.

Eliza, dressed in bright blue skinny jeans, black wedge boots, and a blue leopard blouse, does look gorgeous. Her commonly worn bight clothing resembles that of a humming bird's wing and Royce stuck with calling her bird.

He calls me cat because of my bright green eyes, and quick reflexes. He also teases me about intentionally sneaking up on people. I have this uncanny ability to be quiet on my feet, just like a cat, and I've startled many people before with my "skill".

"Royce, I don't think you've gotten any dorkier from the last time I saw you, so that's a good thing right?" I tease and then my curiosity wins out. "You know Nate? I mean, he's new to our school so it seems strange that you would be so buddy-buddy."

"We've been friends for a long time and he just came to town after he moved away with his parents when we were little. We kept in touch. Don't worry, he won't take your role as my short, blonde friend." Royce throws his arm around Eliza.

"I am five foot two, thank you! And I would hope that after three years I'd be more like your sister or at least a close cousin you invite over for Christmas." I stand as tall as I can when I tell him my height, but it doesn't seem to help much.

Royce laughs but nods his head in agreement.

Eliza playfully hits his chest. "So she gets the role special enough to be your sister and what do I get?"

For an answer Royce turns her around so she is leaning against the pinball machine. He puts his hands on either side of the game, trapping her. Not that she minds though. "If we were siblings then this would be really awkward. And I'm pretty sure illegal."

He then leans in and plants a soft but short kiss on her lips. Enough to make her sigh happily.

"Alright, I'm going to go buy some gummy bears." I joke, turning to go to the snack bar. Eliza pushes Royce away a bit and instead of laughing she looks over to where I'm headed. I follow her gaze and spot Nate in line two people away from the cashier.

"Why don't you join Nate and get four bags of gummy bears, a large popcorn, and drinks. Oh, and tell him that it's his turn to pay." Royce finishes, oddly earning a glare from Eliza.

"Maybe we should go. It would be rude to intrude on your guys' night out." I'm absolutely sure Eliza has never cared whether or not she was crashing someone's party, so this new attitude is odd coming from her.

"Its fine, besides Nate needs a date. He's been lonely." Royce casually says, and before either of them continues to bicker I head off to catch Nate.

Every step makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter so viciously I feel like they are beating me up inside. Once at the line, I politely tell the people in front of me that I'm with Nate and ignoring the death glares, I walk up to his side.

As soon as he looks at me, my words dry up. His smile is intoxicating and without meaning to I find myself leaning towards him.

Quickly standing up straighter, I feel my cheeks flare with heat. "Royce sent me over here with an order of gummy bears, large popcorn, and sodas."

Nate nods and reply's in that deep voice that sends my pulse into a relay race. "Let me guess. It's my turn to pay?"

"That's what he said. If you'd like, I could split the cost with you. But personally, the way that cashier girl is looking at you I think she will give you the whole thing for free." A notch of jealousy rises to my throat, but I swallow it back, angry that I keep reacting this way.

"Especially if she thinks she has competition like you. She'd have to work for it if she wants to distract me from you." By his compliment the heat spreads to my neck, but I try and play off my blushing with an eye roll at his cheesy comment. "But, no thanks. I can pay for the food myself."

When it's finally our turn to order we get large popcorn, four Dr. Peppers, and four bags of gummy bears. The price turns out as ridiculous as movie theater food usually is, but the girl takes a long look at Nate and shaves three dollars off the price while her associates aren't looking. I feel Nate nudge my arm and I have to bite back a laugh. He gives the correct amount of money despite the cashier girl's insistence and we collect our food and drinks.

"So? What movie are we going to watch?" I ask as soon as we reach Eliza and Royce, who seem to be in a heated argument. "Hey, you guy's...what's wrong?"

Eliza, Royce, and Nate all look at each other, exchanging something I can't decipher. Annoyance sparks inside me at having them completely ignore me, as they carry on their silent exchange of expressions.

"Guess what? I'm right here. What is going on with you three?" My question comes out harsher than I meant it to, but I'm getting tired of the constant feeling of being lied to today. I want to know why they're acting so weird.

Eliza is the first one to answer. "Marie I think we need to talk-,"  but before she can get another word out, the theater is rocked by an explosion and I am knocked off my feet.

For several seconds I lay there, and then my vision goes black.