A/N: Do you want a chapter dedicated to you?

All you have to do is "vote" for one of the covers above - the one you like best - by writing its number in the comments and you are signed up for the dedication draw, even if you didn't vote for the most popular one. I'd appreciate it if you give some feedback and tell me why you chose that cover, but you are in even if you comment with just the number. The titles are clearer on the covers themselves; they are a bit pixelated here as I had to make the pictures smaller to display them all.

Why am I doing this? Because I need help picking the cover for this story and what better way to thank you for that help than to dedicate a chapter to one of you?

*****

Val's POV

The sound of his feet on the pavement was getting louder; he was catching up to me. I switched my breathing pattern to a quicker one so that my breaths would coordinate with my footfalls when I sped up, not by much - just enough to tease him.

A smirk showed on my face when I imagined him frowning; I was sure he'd thought he stood a chance this time. Perhaps he was still under that illusion, but I was better trained and he kept making errors that set him back: he landed on his heels instead of his midfoot, he didn't keep track of his inhales and exhales and he didn't keep his eyes on the target... Which was already in sight.

My muscles strained as I went even faster already anticipating the sweet palpitations in them when the race was over and the even sweeter victory. Just a few more feet and... Yes! Vallery Reed was the winner!

Not that I had any doubts I'd be.

I stopped a couple of feet after the tree that marked the finish line. Raiden almost ran into the darn thing; he was too tired to coordinate his moves. I shook my head, smiling, as he slumped on the sidewalk, one hand covering his chest, the other lying in his lap.

"That was refreshing, wasn't it, Ray-Ray?"

He didn't reply; he kept panting, his head and torso bobbing with each breath. I made a point of stretching with a satisfying sigh. I'd been right: my muscles were pulsing and I loved the sensation; it was the reward of a good run.

Not that I was going to admit that to my childhood friend. Okay, maybe I'd call him a worthy opponent out loud, but only if he felt down for losing; down-er than usual, that was.

"I don't need to call an ambulance, do I, Ray-Ray?" I sat cross-legged in front of him. Once again, gasps were his only answer and I rolled my eyes; yes, it had been quite a run, but not enough for him to be doing such an impressive imitation of an asthmatic. He must've gone out of practice in the years we'd been apart; we used to race a lot as children.

It took Mr. Ginger about five minutes to get his breathing under control. In the meantime, I'd gotten in my family's house - the same one we used to live in when I'd been a kid - and brought him a tall glass of water which he'd gulped down at once and, of course, more panting had ensued.

"Do you think you can stand now?" I asked and took the glass from him; Raiden nodded.

"That also means you can talk, right?" I kept questioning as I got up, patting my butt to get rid of the dirt.

"Oh, mighty winner, I humble myself before you; it will be an honor to do your chores," he recited without much enthusiasm and rose as well.

The narration had been part of the bet, reward number one for the winner. The second one was for the loser to do the victor's chores for the day and that took 'wash the dishes' off my list, putting it onto Raiden's.

"Want another bet to get a chance to rid yourself of your debt from this one?" I offered as we walked towards my place. Perhaps Ray should've gone home - the house to the right of mine - and take a shower. His t-shirt had wet spots under the armpits and over the chest and the sweat on his head made his red hair stick to his forehead. Somehow he wasn't grossing me out though. Maybe it was because we'd been close since childhood and I was biased or maybe it was because I was too busy admiring his well-shaped torso to care about the sweat.

Raiden O'Brien had grown up fine, really fine, although he was an unusual mixture of features; being half Irish, a quarter American and a quarter Japanese would do that to you.

Americans were such a mash of nationalities that I truly believed there was no such thing as typical American features, but the blend of Irish and Japanese was enough for Raiden to raise a few eyebrows when a person met him for the first time. The two things that struck people as the oddest combo were the color of his hair and the tilted upwards eyes with their dark brown, almost black irises.

Most people thought it weird; I thought it the good kind of unique.

And by people, I meant boys; girls his age or close to it always found Raiden cute, especially when he smiled. I personally stood firmly behind the statement that he was cute even now as he sulked at his loss with a pout on his face.

So yep, he had a cute face and a hot, hot, hot body. Thankfully, he hadn't inherited Keiko's size; five feet two might be adorable for a woman, but not for a seventeen-year-old boy. Raiden was average height, slender and toned.

"You should really stop betting so much."

"Eh?"

Had I asked him a question?

"I said, you should really stop betting so much, Val," he repeated, opening the front door; I slid inside before him. "It can get you into trouble."

"You know what I always say," I grinned as I walked backwards so we could look at each other, "it's only a problem if you keep losing and keep betting; when you are winning like me..."

"... It's an investment," he finished.

"Exactly." I turned around just in time not to trip on the first step of the staircase.

"But even if you win, Val, if the losers are sore losers, you can get your ass kicked. Especially with the way you always gloat."

"You sound like my brother." I groaned.

"Where is Nat?"

"Chatting with Hunt." I took two steps at once. "Being apart isn't easy for them."

"So, Hunter still can't find a place to rent?"

"Nah, that's the easier part." I shook my head and waited for Ray on the landing. "The hard part is to find a job without high school education and with a year in prison diligently penned down in his rap sheet."

"What did he do anyway?" Raiden had caught up to me and we started walking towards my room - the second one on the left.

"Not sure if I should tell you," I replied and he stopped, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't know either, do you?"

"I know the gist of it," I protested, "just not the details. Besides," we began walking again, "I'm really not sure if I should tell you. Hunter doesn't hide being in jail, but he's private about some things and it will be like talking behind his back. Maybe you could ask him when he moves to Norville... If he's not too busy making out with Nat; they have a lot of catching up to do."

"I understand." My friend nodded. "About not telling me why this Hunter guy was in jail; not the constantly making out part."

"Oh, come on, Ray; wouldn't you want to catch up if you were away from your significant other?" I opened the door to my bedroom and got in; he followed.

"I should have a significant other to start with," the boy noted, a slight frown appearing on his face as he scanned my room.

Perhaps I should've tidied up a bit... or a lot.

"Vallery Reed, you truly are a thing of wonder!" He shook his head. "How can your room be such a mess?"

"We just moved," I pointed out; it had only been about two weeks ago that we'd brought our belongings neatly packaged in cardboard boxes.

"Half of your stuff isn't unpacked yet but somehow it's still a mess," he commented, stumbling over one of the many tank tops that were scattered over my floor.

Good thing he hadn't noticed the lacy bra to his right; that would've made him uncomfortable.

I imagined a pink blush taking over his cheeks and changed my mind: I hoped Raiden saw the bra.

"There's even a bunch of records in here." He bent down and picked the one closest to him.

"So?"

"You don't own a gramophone," he emphasized slowly.

"I like the pretty covers." I shrugged.

"And that is why you covered them with a bag of chips?"

"An empty bag which I planned to use for gathering garbage in."

"Because you don't have enough trash bags?"

"No, because I already have an empty bag and I might as well use it. It's a form of recycling."

"I think you mean repurposing, Val."

"Well, it's my form of recycling," I snapped at him and he raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay, recycling, I get it," he muttered, returning the vinyl to the floor.

It was strange seeing Raiden give up so soon. As children, we used to compete all the time and about everything. I should work on getting his racing spirit back; he would be boring if he kept turning down my challenges or giving up when he accepted them.

"Vallery?" He had moved further into my room.

"Yep?"

"What's that?" Raiden pointed at the hairy brown object that had brought up his question.

I walked towards him, stopping by his side.

"That, my friend," I patted him on the back once, grinning, "is sweet, sweet revenge."

*****

A/N: So what do you think of the first chapter?

If you are worried that it is too short (are you?), don't: my first chapters usually are, but the later ones are a bit longer (another page or at least a half).

What do you think of Val and Ray?

Any guesses what the hairy brown object might be?

Don't forget to "vote" in the comments on the cover you like best for your chance to win a dedication and please VOTE on this chapter if you enjoyed it!

PS: Since he is Raiden (with an i), should it be Ray or Rai?