**Thanks for the comments, they really do mean a lot! And the picture on the side is of Naomi, just so you know :) **

"Naomi Brown," a surprisingly masculine voice says from behind me the next morning as I'm standing by my locker, making me jump just a little bit.  No one ever approaches me at school, whether it be in private or in the middle of the hallways where anyone can see like right now.

Curious as to who it may be--I know it's not Lucas because of the voice--I pivot around and when I see the same brown eyes that looked at me yesterday, I feel just a bit of disappointment rise in me.  It's Drew Price yet again and this time he's flashing an obnoxiously charming smile at me, making two little dimples appear in his cheeks.

I'll give Drew this much:  he is pretty damn good looking.  While Lucas is just golden and perfect, Drew is brunette and has these obnoxiously cute but hot features that you can't help but stare at sometimes.  But Drew is also the guy in classes that can't keep his mouth shut when the teacher is trying to talk--one of my major pet peeves.  Sure what he says may be funny and all of that, but it still irritates the crap out of me when I miss some crucial fact just because he's goofing around.

Wondering what on earth he's coming up to me for, I hitch a dark eyebrow up at him and ask simply, "Yeah?"

His smile decreasing just a bit because he's realized that I'm not falling for his good looks--even if it does look like he made a special effort to look nice today--he says, "You're not a new student."

I roll my eyes at him, "No shit Sherlock.  I've been in classes with you for years."

He does look sincerely sorry, I'll give him that much, as he nervously scratches the back of his neck.  He says, "Sorry.  I honestly had no idea..."

He really does just keep digging himself a bigger and bigger hole every time he speaks.  It's almost kind of amusing.  Shedding off some of the hostility in my voice, I say, "Not really helping, you know?"

He gives a dry laugh, once again looking genuinely sorry that he's never paid me much attention before.  He says, "If it helps...my mom says that I do have my good qualities...they're just buried really deep."

This gets a giggle out of me, something that I think shocks even myself.  I know that this is what Drew is good at, at charming people until they're putty in his hands, but I can't help this nagging in my head that he's not out to get me.  

"I got a laugh!" he says excitedly, that once disappearing smile on his face coming back at full force.  He turns to face the other students in the hallway and when he sees a freshman girl quickly walking with her blonde hair covering much of her face, he says loudly to her, "I got her to laugh!"

"Quit!" I harp at him, instinctively grabbing at his arm and pulling him closer to the row of lockers so that he's not out harrassing poor little freshmen girls.  "You practically mortified that poor girl."

He chuckles, throwing a quick look over his shoulder towards the little blonde girl who's now practically sprinting the rest of the length of the hallway.  Once she's gone from sight he looks back at me and then, for some reason, his eyes look down at my arm.  But when I realize why, that it's because my fingers still have a good grip on his, of course, muscular arm, my cheeks start to burn what I know is a bright red.  

I immediately let go and then tuck my fingers into the front pocket of my skinny jeans so that they won't embarrass me again.  Thankfully Drew doesn't let the situation get any more awkward.  Instead he just asks me, "Who do you have next period?"

"Harrison for science, why?" I ask him confusedly.  Honestly, I'm still kind of reeling from the fact that one of the most popular and sought after guys in school is talking to me.  It's so out of the blue that it's confusing.  Is he talking to me just because I put in a little more effort with my appearance yesterday?  Is that the only reason?  

He gives me a cute toothy smile before reaching out and grabbing my books from the hand that isn't buried into denim pockets.  Tucking them under his arm before I can even start to protest, he says persuasively, "I'll walk you."

Not knowing if I should trust him or not--look at what happened last time I trusted a guy like him--I shake my head and say, "No that's okay.  It's probably out of your way and..."

"Hey Naomi?" he says, breaking me out of my embarrassing rambles.

"Yeah?" I ask, meeting his brown eyes with my own.

His toothy smile stretching farther across his lips he says, "If you keep rambling you're going to make us both tardy."

Knowing that this is the truth and, figuring from the three minutes of conversation I've ever held with the boy that he's crazily stubborn, I just sigh and nod my head.  ​

OoOoO

When I walk into the book store late that afternoon feeling just a bit drowsy from that detention, all I want to do is curl into my own little recliner and read a story.  Maybe reading can make some people feel tired, but not me.  A good story can always keep me awake.  And right now, after being forced to endure sixty minutes of pure boredom with a bunch of delinquint students that I've never spoken to, all I want is to read a good story.

But the moment that I see Lucas standing behind the front counter of the store, talking to one of the customers about how good their team is doing this year, I realize that the days of comfortably reading me stories in my recliner are long gone.  I can't do that when the bane of my existence is just a few measly feet away.  

Sighing to myself because I just know that the easy days of working here are over.  Now I'm going to have to try and put on a friendly front when this used to be the only place I could feel comfortable. Looking over at Lucas' bright white smile as he explains to the man their chances of making the championship game this season, I realize that I probably have enough pent up resentment to where I wouldn't feel the slightest shred of guilt if I stabbed him with a fork.

I'd probably laugh while I did it.

When his blue eyes meet mine, though, I realize with a jolt that I've been caught staring at him.  Knowing that I've been doing it for such a long time that it's given that customer time to leave the store, I try and ward the blush off of my cheeks before disappearing into the book aisles.  Knowing that I need to intensely focus on straightening the spines of books so that I don't focus on that stupid boy by the cash register, I take a deep breath and then get to work.

Only to be snapped out of my daze when I hear his voice say, "You look like you're trying to set fire to that book right now."

That's when I realize that he doesn't exactly have to stay posted at the cash register, not when this place has the customer flow of a burnt down Taco Bell.  I've always loved that about this job.  You're free to roam around and do what you please when no customers are in the store.  Unfortunately, this amazing little aspect has been passed onto Lucas as well.

I ignore that he's spoken to me, though, knowing that if I do choose to respond that it'll probably be something that I'll get fired for.  Even though I did have a surprisingly pleasant day today--Drew is actually kind of fun to be around--I'm still not in the mood to be around the boy who's caused me so much hurt.  

Instead I keep walking down the aisle, keeping my eyes peeled for any book spines that need to be straightened out.  As I do this, though, I just feel Lucas' presence behind me, looming like a ghost or something.  It's making me feel like I have no room to do anything, as if I'm being cornered or something.  

When it gets to be too much I wheel around to face him and demand harshly, "Do you need something?"

"No."

The fact that he says is so calmly, so serenely, does nothing but make my anger levels hitch upwards.   How can he be so freaking calm when I'm boiling on the inside?

"Then why do you insist on following me around like a freaking parasite?"

He smiles when I say this, actually smiles, and then teases, "Your personality is just so bright and happy that I can't stay away."

"Oh go fall off a cliff or something," I say angrily before turning a corner and then disappearing down another book aisle.  I'm by myself for a couple of blissful moments, but by the second time I cast a glance towards the right I see Lucas making his way towards me, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his Levi's.  

Gritting my teeth in annoyance, I once again choose to ignore him.  When I see a book that looks strangely familiar, I pull it off of the shelf and then go to read the back.  Before I can even get to the decent part of the summary, though, to see if I ever remember reading this, Lucas' voice cuts through my train of thought.  He says, "It's a good book."

Not even bothering to hide my surprise, I look over towards him and hold it so that he can see the cover.  "You've read this?"  When he nods, I decide to clarify by asking another question.  "You actually read books?"

He rolls his eyes at me and then comes to swipe the book out of my hands.  His eyes rake over the front and back covers and he says, "Yeah.  You got it for me for my fifteenth birthday, remember?"

"I'm shocked you remember," I say dryly, yanking the book out of his hands and then sliding the book back onto the shelf.  Anything dealing with that friendship, with that bond that I honestly thought would last forever, just needs to be put away.  I can't look at anything that reminds me of back then.

He says from beside me, "I remember a lot of stuff about us, Naomi."

His soft voice brings back memories of my head being against his warm chest, his arms wrapped around my torso, as he whispered comforting words to me because my parents had been doing something awful.  He used to be so good to me, so kind and so perfect, that sometimes I think some of the things he did for me were dreams. But I've finally woken up and there's no way I'm letting myself fall back into that.  I'm not setting myself up for the same kind of hurt.

So I just give a short, angry chuckle and say, "Yeah, me too," and then head out of that aisle and towards another one where, hopefully, he won't follow.

"Don't you think we should just talk?" his voice asks loudly from the next aisle over.  He's obviously smart enough to know that if he comes onto the science fiction aisle with me, I'm just going to head on down to the other one.  He knows how I work.

"Not at all," I answer back just as loudly, knowing that if we dredge up any of those awful things that I'm going to fall right back into that awful state of depression.  Though I'm not exactly little Ms. Sunshine, I'm still better than I was a year ago when everything was still so fresh.  I'm getting better and there's no way in hell that I'm going to let him drag me back down again.

When I hear the bell signalling that another customer has entered the book store, I can't help but feel just a bit surprised.  Two customers in ten minutes?  That's got to be some kind of record.  But when I look up and see that it's Drew who's entered, I can't help but wonder if he's come here for me.  Sure he may have walked me to class and talked to me for a few minutes after school, but coming to see me at work is a bit fast, isn't it?

"Hamilton!" I hear him call and that's when I understand.  He's here to see Lucas.  Throughout the length of the day, I had kind of forgotten that the two of them were friends.

After quickly turning over my shoulder and heading towards the back of the store so that he can't see me and embarrass me in front of Lucas, I grab a random book from the teen romance section and then plop myself down into my chair in the back corner of the building.  Getting comfortable, I pull my legs onto the chair with me, folding them at the knees, and then peel open the book and get to reading.

Two pages in, though, I realize that I've read this book before and that I hated it.  Grimacing, I reluctantly peel myself away from the chair and then head back into the book aisles, making sure to be sneaky so that the two boys don't hear me and invite me to join their conversation.  I've had enough conversation today to last me a week.

As I'm looking through the books I slowly start to hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

"You know her?" Drew's now familiar voice asks him.

Lucas chuckles, but it's that mischevious one that I used to know so well.  He's hiding something.  Lucas answers him, "I've seen her around school."

"She's effin hot, right?  Like how did I even miss that?"

Is he talking about me?  He can't be.  He said hot.  There's no way that I'm any popular guy's definition of hot.  I have this unruly hair and stubby eyelashes and arms that seriously need some toning.  There's no way that Drew Price can remotely find me attractive.  He must be talking about someone else.

Lucas says, "Is that all you're here for?  To gloat about your newest chick?"

Drew sighs dramatically, "I wish.  She's different and it's really irritating as well as, like, hot or whatever.  She does't put up with any shit, you know?"

In what can almost be classified as a wistful tone, Lucas says, "Trust me man, I know."

​