1

It feels so good to be back.

I flip my brown hair as I sharply turn the wheel, directing my glistening Corvette onto the beaten path. I pound the gas pedal, making the car roar with life and energy. The speedometer increases by ten... twenty... thirty...

Music pours out of the booming speakers, reverberating around the shiny interior. I start to hum the words, rolling down both windows and letting the wind beat against my face. My body relaxes as the chill embraces my skin, raising some goosebumps on my pale but muscled arms. Now that I am almost at Sunny Valley, I can finally stop looking so much like a vampire. I can finally go back to my real life.

It feels so thrilling to know that I am free. I have been liberated from the chains of the city, and more importantly, my mother. No more will I ever have to put up my skateboard or have a cigarette yanked out my hands. Here, no one will care about what I do and don't do. No one will attempt to control my life.

The thought brings a smile to my face, and I cut my eyes to the overhead mirror. Scanning the area, I make sure I am completely alone on the dirt pathway, with no buildings or cars in sight. The trees are sparse, though towering over the grass and shrubs. Surely there is no one hiding around here.

Satisfied, I lift my hands from the wheel and into the air, letting the truck drive itself. My smile stretches to about a mile long, and a yell of exhilaration escapes my throat. I can do what I want to do. There is no one here to stop me. I can get whatever-or whomever-I want. And I plan on taking it all. The whole town is mine, along with anything within it. Including her.

An image appears in my mind, overwhelming all else. Silky blond hair framing a heart-shaped face, with dark brown eyes and perfectly-shaped lips... I cannot deny that meeting her again is what I am most looking forward to. After years of regret, of staring out of the dark windows in my prison at the stars, she was the one mistake that I could never forget. No one else has compared to her beauty. No one else has ever understood me. I should have kept a tighter grip on her instead of pushing her away.

But one thing I have learned over the years is that it is never too late. And I plan on everything going exactly back to how it was before I left. Sunny Valley is such a pitiful town. It probably hasn't changed at all anyways.

A flash of color appears before me, and I snap to attention. My feet slam on the brakes and the car swerves, the wheel turning uncontrollably. I grab the wheel within a few seconds, and hold it still with all my might. Nearly thrown into the windshield as the brakes desperately tried to slow the vehicle, the car finally screeches to a stop. It takes a few seconds for me to realize my eyes are closed, and a few seconds more for my heart to start beating again.

The first thing I see when the blurs around me solidify is a white, wooden surface. Rugged with age, the sign is covered in dirt and markings. I eventually distinguish the word Sunny Valley from the midst of love professions and unrecognizable pictures. In the corner of the sign my name is scratched into it. I remember writing that, years and years ago. Seeing it makes me feel so... satisfied.

I whip my car around the sign and head straight for home. The speedometer races even higher than it did before. I can't wait to arrive.

This is where I belong.

2

"Noel..." A shrill voice calls, the sound blasting in my ears.

I roll over in my bed, staring blindly at the ceiling. Mom didn't even need to call me—I have been awake for quite a while. 

It's a rare occurrence for me to even be asleep these days.

It had been another frightening night, full of freakish nightmares and dark shadows. I have never been afraid of the dark, but it terrorizes me now to turn off my night lamp. It is childish, I know, to be scared of a silly dream. But I can't help it.

And every night, it is the same darkness, the same feeling of desolateness. The strange thing is, I can never remember what the dream was about, only the feelings I experienced. 

Of course, it hasn't always been like this. It was only last week when I became scared of slumber. Maybe this means something bad is going to happen. I'm not really the superstitious type, but it's a possibility that's difficult to ignore. 

Surely it can't be an omen that has to do with Election Day. I have prepared and campaigned for hours and hours on end, conversing with random students and shouting both my name and a plea for votes in the hallways. Not my usual behavior, I know, but I really want to be win the Secretary office in Student Government. And when Miss Popularity is running against you... well, desperate times call for desperate measures. I just can't lose. A dark doom settles over me like a blanket, trying to smother me in depression. Noel, I chastise myself, don't be so negative. You got this in the bag. 

I roll over, clutching my pillow and holding it over my head. My muscles are powerless to my will and desire to stay here forever. To not have to get up and face the moment that will define my high school life. At least, for me it will. 

The birds seem to sense that I am trying to avoid the day, and shriek at each other in annoyingly high tones. Frustrated, I flip over so that my back is on the mattress.

I guess I might as well begin my day of either extreme terror or happiness.

After letting out a ferocious yawn that nearly shook the ground, I use my arms to push myself upwards into a sitting position. My sense of balance wobbles as I stumble over to my closet and stare at it in confusion. Or to be more precise, the door handle, which is peculiarly devoid of any hangers. I... don't know what to wear. 

This is madness. 

With a roar of anguish, I snap out of my stupor and race to the bathroom. I can't believe I forgot to pick out my clothes. It is only the most important day of my life, besides my birthday of course, and I haven't gone through the psychological process of determining what I feel like, and how those feelings transfer over to what type of clothing I wear, and how good I look when wearing them. I never forget to go through this every night. Never.

I raise an old and worn comb to my hair, furiously trying to brush through the tangles.  A cry escapes me as I survey myself in the mirror, the tug of the bristles nearly yanking out my hair. 

Everything seems so out of place. I am doing this all wrong. What I should be doing now is putting on my clothes. That's what I do first every day.

Racing back over to the closet, I survey the reds, blues, greens, and other colors lining the walls. I try to think of what I should be wearing. A... a dress. Yes. I need a dress.

I grab a dark brown dress with some ruffles and a waist belt, changing into it as quickly as possible. Some cowboy boots are quickly shoved on my feet, and I waste no time in proceeding to the bathroom. Make up is next. 

The chirping of the birds escalate into a barrage of clashing noises to match the furious beating of my heart. As I turn on the straightener in the bathroom and take an eyeshadow palette and a brush in my hands, I can't help but reexamine my choice of outfit. 

I find myself in and out of the closet around three times, time slipping through my shaking fingertips. It is only when my alarm buzzes for the fifth time do I notice that over forty minutes has passed. Anger enters my features. This can't be happening.

I mutter underneath my breath, flying downstairs to the kitchen where my mother is cooking scrambled eggs, throwing her beautiful voice to the wind so that it carries across the entire neighborhood. She looks like Mary Poppins, with her light brown hair swept into an elegant bun and long white apron. Maybe that was why the birds have been so crazy this morning.

She turns and looks at my frazzled appearance, then immediately looks at the clock above the shining microwave. "It's 17 minutes later than normal. Is something wrong?"

I attempt to answer, but end up spitting out incomprehensible gibberish. She raises an eyebrow as I stomp over to the kitchen table where a small plate is laden with biscuits, gravy, and an assortment of fruit. The sound of my chair scraping the floor echoes throughout the hallway. 

My fork pokes at the food for a few minutes. I can sense Mother staring at me in the corner of my eye, but I pretend that I don't notice. 

"Well, aren't you going to eat?" She finally asks, glaring at me in a way that is not very encouraging. I look warily at her, and then stab the food. 

"It's cold," I complain rather half-heartedly, at which Mother laughs. She has a very light and airy laugh, the kind that warms people up and makes them feel nice and cozy. 

"Well, the food has been out for exactly 17 minutes," She responds, "how was I supposed to know that you would be this late on such a beautiful morning? I would have thought you would want to leave extra early, considering that today is-"

"Don't say it," I growl, "it only makes me more nervous. As of now, I'm too aware of what day it is."

"Oh no. Don't tell me you forgot to pick out your clothes last night." Mother's hand flies to her mouth, though a hint of sarcasm peeks through the veiled words. 

"Well, yes. And now I keep going back and forth on what I should wear. I was thinking a dress, but if I lose then I'll look stupid and too fancy. If I wear jeans, I will look too casual and if I win lots of people will be paying attention to me. If I wear-"

"Noel, I'm sure you will look beautiful no matter what you wear. I think you are overthinking it, as usual." 

"No I am not!" I exclaim with a mouthful of biscuit. "Just because I need a little structure to my life doesn't mean that-"

"A little? Noel, you plan everything. Nothing in your life is unscripted. You give me a detailed list with cost projections, suggested stores, and a gift schedule every Christmas."

"You speak blasphemy." I shovel another piece of biscuit lathered with gravy into my mouth, thinking intensely about my gray polka-dotted scarf. My dress would probably look better with the purple one hanging in my sister's bedroom. "I will be right back." I jump up from my chair to race up the steps. Mother's gaze follows my ascent, probably digging holes into my retreating back.

On the way to my sister's bedroom, I continue glancing at the clock. The minutes tick by at an alarming speed, leaving me a mere ten minutes before I usually leave. I'm always ready by five minutes until I leave. This is bad.

"Noel... what are you doing?" Rachel asks, groaning from the corner of her bed. She grabs the nearest pillow and buries her face beneath it. "Leave me alone." 

"You need to get up anyways," I say while shuffling through her scarves, "unless you want to walk to school." 

"I have a ride, thank God," she says, then turns on her side, "I hate being in the same car as you." 

What a lovable sister.

I find the dark purple scarf and then after a moment of hesitation, walk over to the bundle on the bed. I fiercely shove it and it tumbles onto the floor with a satisfying thump. "Well, you should get up anyways," I mutter, just loud enough so that she could hear. There is no reason why she should be snuggling up in bed when I am suffering. It's not like she doesn't have to get to the school at the same time that I do anyways.

"Noel! You have to leave!" Mother's distant voice shouts, distracting me from looking into the mirror to compare scarves. My hands shake as Rachel begins to disentangle herself from the bedsheets with a murderous glare.

"I'm not ready!" I call while noticing that the gray complements the lace around the top of the dress. I hold the scarves up side by side again.

"I know if you leave any later your whole day will be messed up, and I don't want that." Mother's house shoes thump up the stairs, her voice growing louder as she gets closer. "Noel, please stop worrying. You look great. Don't think about it any longer."

"But-"

"No. I forbid you from looking into another mirror. I think you have spent enough time picking out  your clothes. Who knows, this might be a sign of a new and awesome change for you. When something is unscheduled, wonderful and spontaneous things can occur. Just let it happen, El."

"Mom, no-"

"I insist." She pushes me downstairs, and I break away from her to grab my lunch and backpack. "Now go have fun and break some little boy's heart!" Her yell echoes throughout the hallway as I race out the door and straight into my small, white Jeep while rolling my eyes. Mom always says the weirdest things. I'm not going to be breaking anyone's heart.  

Once I sit down, it takes a few seconds to realize what just happened. 

Mom is so good at bullying me. She catches me in the heat of the moment, and then next thing I know, I'm off doing something she wanted me to do with no clue of how I even got there. 

Tiny droplets of rain splatter onto my windshield as I start the rumbling engine. A tiny yelp escapes the machine as it comes to life. Immediately I press my foot on the gas, and the Jeep shakes violently before moving down the hill. The rain intensifies as it moves, the dark clouds gathering over the area like a gray blanket. The weather seems to mirror my melancholy mood.

Who needs spontaneity? My mother is a crazy nut job for thinking that things that are not purposed to happen could ever be good. People say that a lot, but they never really believe it. 

Take a job, for example. No one ever wants surprises then, because the only thing that can be truly unexpected is a dismissal. With Christmas, everyone has an idea of what they want, and that newly knitted, hopefully unexpected, but horribly ugly christmas sweater always causes some tears to flow from little children. Why? Because we hate surprises.

So what if I face reality instead of pretending interest in such a horrible thing? 

The roar of thunder pounds through the air as I pull up at a small, red house, still lost in thought. After a few seconds, a figure appears, covered in a shiny green raincoat. The hood falls off of her head, exposing her platinum blonde hair to the wind before she reaches up and secures it tightly. The door bangs against the side of the car as she jumps inside the jeep. 

"Noel, you are 7 minutes late! What happened?" Ana asks with concern, shrugging off the jacket temporarily. I look into the overhead mirror, taking in her bright green eyes and flawless heart-shaped face, then look away and shake my head with envy. The engine coughs as I resurrect it, temporarily.

"You are too pretty, Ana. How in the world do you do it?" I ask darkly, then pull my eyes from the mirror to the road. Ana is my best friend, who I have to look at every morning and inadvertently compare myself to. It is usually not a pleasant experience.  

"Aw, Noel..." Her slender hand touches my arm. "What's wrong?" 

Curse you, Ana, for being so considerate.

"Nothing, I'm just late. And to be quite honest, a little nervous." An unmistakable tremor enters my tone. She laughs a little, obviously noticing the stress hiding beneath the surface. 

"I've never met someone who gets so agitated just because they are late. It's not like we won't get to school on time."

"Yes..." I groan, "but it's a bad sign. I know it." An impatient car nearly rams me in the back as I wait to turn left at the stop sign. I jerk forwards, moving much faster than normal. I hate speeding. I hate stupid and obnoxious cars.

"Don't tell me you had that dream again..." Ana tries to make eye contact with me in the mirror, but I avoid her glance. There is silence for a few seconds, then she tries to talk again. "Do you remember any more of it than you did last time?"

"No, not really. It isn't a very big deal anyways." I sigh. "The real reason why I was late was because I didn't pick out my clothes last night."

"Oh no!" She exclaims, her hand on her perfectly shaped mouth in an interestingly reminiscent chain of events. The same hint of sarcasm is in her voice, too.

I can't take it.

"So what if I have mental trauma every time I don't pick out my clothes the night before?! It's a perfectly normal cause of tardiness, and much better than something like sleeping in late."

"Exactly." She wags her finger at me. "That's the funny part."

"What in the world do you mean by that?" I pull into the school parking lot with a grand flourish, nearly knocking into the curb. I feel like I have been in a Nascar speedway for the past few minutes. 

As I find my parking space and the Jeep straggles to an halt, Ana chatters on about God-knows-what. "-You are like a superwoman. Everyone knows it, and that is why they take advantage of you so often. You are too reliable. However, the silliest things throw you off-"

"Oh, stop it, Ana. I can't bear much more of this superwoman madness." I slam both doors shut and lock them, then we head towards the school. The one, the only Sunny Valley High School looms before us. I know, I know, such an inventive and original name. "I don't jump over buildings and save the world on a daily basis."

Involuntarily I glance at my wrist, only to notice that it is completely bare. Ana notices, and looks down at her own arm. "It's three minutes past eight, Noel," she comments, at which I cover my ears tightly. I hope I could somehow un-hear her words.

"Ana, that doesn't make things any better," I whisper, "I don't need to know what time it is."

"You always need to know what time it is," she laughs, "and where is your watch, anyways? I thought you never left your room without it."

"Screw you," I grumble, trying to move faster. Ana catches up, grabbing my arm with that super strength of hers.

"I'm sorry, Noel, you know how I like to tease." She smiles, and instantly the image of hopping bunnies and bright flowers and furry rabbits pop into my mind. I'm not quite sure why. "On the bright side, we aren't going to be late to class. Believe it or not, some people get to school at this time every day and manage to be just fine."

We banter back and forth all the way up to the front doors, nearly running at this point. Well, I was running at least. A throng of people mob us as we enter the main lobby, all heading towards their first class. I hate people. 

The halls, floor, and ceiling practically defines boring. Gray is the only color in this school, and for an institution that claims to promote creativity and individualism, this decor doesn't help to support it. It never fails to depress me. I glare at the nameless doors as I am swept through the river of people, powerless to stop myself. Ana has disappeared, probably off to her other class. 

The bell erupts as I finally walk through my classroom door, a jarring sound that shakes me from the inside out. It seems to snap me out of my depression, if only for a few seconds, and I remember that I have to at least act like I am excited—instead of terrified—for advisory. I raise my head up high as I enter the room, a bright smile on my face.

Mrs. Chapman looks up at me as I slink to my desk. "You are about seven minutes late, Noel. What happened?" She asks me, causing me to slam my head on the desk. Curse what the other kids think. Curse Mrs. Grizzly bear over here who had to remind me that my day is screwed up. Does she really think I don't know that I am late?

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Chapman." I quickly raise my head from the desk, my face the picture of remorse. Hopefully. "It won't happen again."

"No worries," she replies, standing up from her seat. "It's not like you were really late. And the only reason why I noticed was because you are usually the one by which I tell the time. If Noel's in the room, I know that there is approximately seven minutes until class-"

Her voice drones on and on, and I attempt to paste a pleased smile on my features. Mrs. Chapman can drone on and on sometimes. Not that I would ever tell her that.

My face grows red as some other classmates start chuckling and whispering to each other. Derek, sitting behind me, leans forward and whispers in my ear. "I hope you are ready for Chippy Chapman to start telling us stories about your childhood. I personally can't wait." He grins, flashing his shiny white teeth. An average boy in just about every way, his only talent is to annoy people to no end. Which is why I ended up with the seat right in front of him.

"Don't call her that!" I playfully elbow him, smiling brightly. "And let's hope not. That would be so embarrassing." Chippy Chapman is her nickname that's been passed around school for quite a while. There's nothing particularly bad about the name—besides the fact that she hates it. And as a lucky side-bonus, she lives about two doors down the street so she has known me since I was little. I have had the liberty of listening to her never-ending complaints for quite a while now.

And the worst part about having a neighbor that saw you in diapers as a teacher is that usually the teacher acts in one of two ways. She could play favorites, or discriminate in the opposite direction by never, ever calling on you. For me, she has done both. I have never understood the crazy lady.

I glance away from Derek to the board, where Mrs. Chapman had gradually made her way towards the front. It looks like she is going to try and teach a new lesson today... that means it is dozing time. Without looking like I am dozing, of course. I have mastered the art of falling asleep with my eyes at least partially open.

I feel a strange thump against my forehead and turn quickly to see a small, scrunched up paper ball that is falling on the floor. Cautiously I bend down to pick up the paper, while looking to try and make eye contact with the person that threw it. Jake, lounging in the back, shoots me a wink through his brown mane of endlessly flippable and impossibly glossy hair. Inwardly I shudder, but return the smile anyways.

Many people would consider Jake to be very handsome, but I just don't see it. He seems at times to be the best support for evolutionists, being the missing link between an orangutan and a real human being. His mouth is pretty, I will admit, but it's only there for decoration. His hair as well, which hides that pea-shaped brain ever-so-nicely.

Turning to the front, I spread out the paper and try to decipher the handwriting. It is a struggle, I will say, because each letter looks almost exactly the same. Eventually, I make out the words "No homework please let me copy". Ha. 

Today is going to be a very long day.

 

***

 

It is a long, arduous journey—or at least it seems like it—through four periods of agonizing lectures, but somehow I get out of there alive. While waiting for Ana at the doorway, I survey the large doors upon which the word LUNCHROOM is printed. It seems like the gateway to heaven. 

My stomach growls like a lion as Noel reaches me. "How was your morning?" She asks, smiling from ear to ear.

"Nothing much to talk about. I only got four homework requests today, and I have to help this girl clean up the Art classroom after school because her friend is sick. Oh, and I heard they were having difficulties with the vote counting."

"Yeah, I heard that too..." Ana sighs, "I'm sure you are dying of impatience." We walk to the lunch line to grab napkins.

"Well, yes. I will admit that. But hopefully everything will be resolved before advisory period." Taking a seat in a small table instead of by our normal group of friends, I let myself vent about stupid Jake's reaction when I told him I wouldn't let him copy the homework, Mr. Bunns's horrifying confession, and Rachel's pitiful plea for answers on the test. She listens patiently, and my anger subsides within a few minutes.

"It is because everyone knows you always have the right answers and the homework, and that you are nice enough to consider giving it to them," Ana says patiently. "You should be a little more firm. Tell them some of the stuff you just told me."

"Maybe one day. But not today." I take a bite of my apple, the sickly sweetness temporarily distracting me. "I have an election at stake. Although that witch over there probably won." I glare over at the long table stretching across the middle of the lunchroom, where the popular people sit.

"She isn't a witch, and you know it." Ana laughs, and I tentatively smile back.

"Yeah..." I stab my food ferociously. "It's just that she doesn't even fit the position. Even though she is pretty much perfect in every other way." The candidate in question raises her head to look straight at me, and smiles prettily. She also has the nerve to give a regal wave.

Wendy Fallon and I are like frenemies. We act like we love each other in person, but in reality I know she dislikes me just as much as I do her. She isn't like the queen bee of our school or anything, but she is a pretty well known crony, so to speak, a b-list celebrity that caters to the true royalty. And even though she is one of the servants in the castle, she is uncharacteristically nice to everyone and has a pretty interesting habit on not treating the supposed low lifes of the school like dirt. The problem is, the blond haired, blue eyed, and model-like girl wants the same thing I want.

Just to clarify, I am not popular, but I do enough to not let my name fall into obscurity at this school. There isn't any juicy gossip about me on any given day of the week, but people conveniently remember that I'm always the one to act if they need something. And people always need something.

"You're perfect too, Noel, which makes this whole thing pretty awesome. The battle of the Perfects!" Ana says in her best announcer voice. "It's kind of like the Hunger Games of SGA."

"Oh please," I shake my head, "I'm not perfect. This goes back to the superwoman thing."

"But you are!" She whines, making me blush. "And you have this long, beautiful red hair to boot. I would die for this hair." She picks up a strand of my straight hair and stares at it with a strange wistfulness. And this is the same hair that I have been wanted to cut off for months.

"I keep meaning to take this unkempt, messy mop to the hair salon," I mutter, "it's too high maintenance." Yes, when combed and blow-dried and straightened it looks decent. But it is too much of a hassle and the red catches too many people's attention. I swear it is almost an Ariel shade of red. People always think that I dyed it.

"Don't you dare, Noel! I will kill you if you do." Ana responds, still playing with it absentmindedly. "If you do it, I'll have nothing to braid in advisory."

"Okay, Ana. Just so you can braid my hair, I'll keep it," I laugh, then shovel the last bit of my sandwich into my mouth. My heartbeat is slowly accelerating as the clock ticks towards advisory. The moment of truth is almost here. "By the way, what happened with you today?" I ask her genially.

"Oh nothing much. I broke up with Brandon." She stares into the crowd as she replies, probably hoping to get a glimpse of him. 

"Ana, you are going to have to stop that!" I rebuke her jokingly, "you have to let him have at least a full day before casting him off into the dirt." Brandon was a pretty handsome fellow–if a little brain dead—this time, I figured she would keep him for at least a few days. 

"I didn't like him. He asked for a chance and I gave it to him, but our date last night was just... eh," she yawned. "I didn't feel like stringing him along."

"You are insufferable. It's like every day that you are casting aside poor boys after agreeing to go out with them." I sigh in exasperation. "You know I only want the best for you. Someday all of these boys will get together and come for you to get revenge." 

"I'm just looking for the right one, you know?" She murmurs with hopelessness. The bell rings as she speaks her next words. "I have to give them all a chance, because maybe they could be the one." She looks really unsatisfied, and I touch her arm gently. We stand up as the masses of people start to move to their next period, and walk slowly together. 

Ana is a boy killer, which isn't surprising considering her careless personality and beauty that would probably rival Aphrodite's. And I don't say that in a jesting manner, either. The rest of the school would agree with me in a heartbeat. But believe it or not, she is one of those boy killers that actually has good intentions. I can't help but worry about her when she has become so easily unsatisfied with all her plethora of boyfriends over the past few years.

"I think maybe you haven't fully forgotten him," I whisper softly in her ear. She whips her head around to face me with an expression of alarm.

"I have," she asserts quickly. Too quickly. Her eyes blink once, twice, three times in rapid succession. 

"I don't mean to upset you. I'm guess what I am trying to say is that I don't want you, in your quest for the right one, to pick the wrong one by accident. The most exciting person is not necessarily the most wise choice. But I'm sure you already know that." 

"Yeah..." She shakes her head. "Sometimes, I feel like I could never forget him. And maybe it is that excitement, or lack of, that makes me so uninterested in these other guys. But I promise, I won't make that kind of decision again. You know, to date someone like him."

We reach the door of advisory, and my hands are shaking like they always do when I am nervous. "I'm sure you wouldn't, I just wanted you to be aware that maybe you are expecting more out of some of these guys than you think." Wendy passes us with a few of her friends to confidently glide into the room, but I am more than a little hesitant.

"Come on." Ana tugs on my arm, leading me into Mr. Fouse's classroom. The walls bare of posters and any sort of decoration, the room matches the rest of the school perfectly. "At least Sebastian will get to witness your glory moment," she whispers in my ear as we sit down in desks. "He's here today. Lucky you."

I glance up quickly and sure enough, she's right. Just as I look up, he makes awkward eye contact with me and I return my gaze to Ana, probably with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. She watches with a smile on her face. "You have it so bad..." She whispers tauntingly, "it's hilarious. I have never seen you, in all my years of knowing you, like this over a guy before."

"Shut up," I darkly mumble, red blossoming on my cheeks. I would never admit it, but part of the reason why I want to win the election so badly is because of him. And I'm not the type of girl that stalks her crush anywhere and everywhere. 

The thing about Sebastian is that he has never, ever asked me for help before. I don't know why that is such a major factor in me liking him, but it somehow is. I guess I have been so used to people asking me for things that I only noticed him in the first place based on that fact. It also helps that he's extremely tall, with broad shoulders and big, dark chocolate eyes. And that he's a genius... probably more so than I am. 

He's running for Student Council too, but unlike me, he has no contest. Everyone knows he is the best man for the job, and since junior year he has served as President. I don't think anyone has even attempted to run against him this year. 

It feels so shameful that I like him, and I tried to keep it a secret from Ana and the rest of the world. Unfortunately, Ana knows everything, and what she doesn't know she will soon force out of you.

"I will admit that your dream man is pretty hot," She whispers, mainly to make me flush even a brighter red. "It's just that he's a clone of you. Wouldn't that be kind of like liking yourself?"

"No!" I respond fiercely, "It's not like that!" At my frenzied words, many people turn their heads. I bow my head, waiting for the other conversations to go back to normal. 

"You really should talk to him more." She winks slyly. "In fact, you should go up and say hi right now."

"Ana, I will kill you." I glare at her as she keeps that evil grin on her face. I know what that grin means.

"Hey, Sebastian!" She calls, and I instinctively duck my head, my expression murderous. Until I remember I have to act natural, so I have to look back up. I try to look unbothered, although I am sure this attempt will be a miserable failure.

There he is, about three desks away—his dark eyes flicking with an unfathomable emotion as his attention gravitates towards us. A lock of his jet black hair falls dangerously into his eyes, and he swipes it away impatiently. And then one of his trademark smile spreads across his chiseled face, making my heart beat in its chest.

He is surrounded by his friends, all of whom are staring at the two of us. Matt, Jacob, and Ryan are part of Sunny Valley's pure-blooded royalty as well, while Fred and Peyton are both loyal cronies. Or slaves, or faithful dogs. In this case, the words can be used interchangeably. 

"Hey," Sebastian responds, his deep voice sending chills down my spine.  

"I was wondering if you could help us with something," Ana says. He laughs in response, his gaze focusing on me immediately. I feel butterflies in my stomach, like I do every time I experience that intense stare of his. Trying to mask my embarrassment, I tentatively smile.

"Noel? Need help?" He stands up immediately, starting to walk over to our desks. "Now this I have to see." 

Oh no. He's actually walking over here. I gesture wildly to Ana, in dire need of help to produce something I need help on. 

Surprisingly, Ana whips out a sheet of paper in two seconds flat, upon which is listed several math problems. "What the crap is this?" I ask her in an accusing whisper as I survey the strange symbols. 

"Believe it or not, these are some unsolvable math problems we copied in class last period," Ana whispers back, "who knew it would come in handy?"

Who in the world would make their class copy down unsolvable math problems?! She must have Mrs. Washington as a teacher. That lady is so random.

Sebastian reaches us, sliding a desk close to ours. "Let me guess... is it math?" He asks. When he sits down, I catch the strange scent of peppermint. I don't think the aroma should be attractive, but somehow it it.

"Yes, these are some of Ana's problems." I slide the piece of paper over, and he leans in closer to read Ana's neat handwriting. His intense concentration allows me to look at him closely, to watch his furrowed brows and dark eyes. 

"Whoa, these are hard," he comments, "I knew it had to be something crazy for Noel to not know how to figure it out. I'm not sure if I can help you either." 

"It's okay," Ana smiles at him, "if you can't, don't worry about it." I roll my eyes at this statement. Of course he can't figure it out. 

Wendy, sitting over four desks, is obviously fuming. Her glare is directed at Ana, which is not surprising, considering she probably considers her to be more of a threat. For months now, Sebastian has been hers, even though he doesn't know it yet. I think.

It's strange, really, because even though I have a crush on Sebastian, I accept the fact that Wendy will have him no matter what. I'm competitive, but not over boys. 

I doubt she can even tell that I like him, because otherwise she wouldn't even try to pretend that she and I are friends. And again, I'm not the type she would ever see as a true threat. 

"Well, let's see what I can come up with..." Sebastian murmurs, picking up my blue pencil to write on the sheet. After a few seconds of writing, the scratching sounds stop. "Noel, are you even watching?"

"What? Yes, yes... I am." I whip my head around to face him. There is that beautiful stare again... I can't help but look away. "Sorry."

Ana winks at me over the top of his head. At times like this, I really dislike her.

"Well, first you take the square root of the x to the second power, because..." He keeps going for a little while, and it is surprising how well of a teacher he is. It feels weird being the one who is being taught like this by another student, and I kind of like it. 

"Ana, do you understand as well?" He asks her gently, and she just stares at the sheet. It's rather strange, because Sebastian not only showed all his work, but a clear and definite answer. 

"Um, yeah," she says in confusion, "thanks." He smiles at the both of us, probably amused by our jaws dropping practically to the floor.

"I should savor this moment." Sebastian laughs loudly. His friends look at him strangely, and he gets up from his seat and turns to smile at them. "I helped Noel with a math problem," He explains, and they all start clapping rather sarcastically.

"Sebastian! I need help too!" Wendy calls, while flipping her long hair. His smile grows even wider, and he walks over to her side.

"It was my problem, so technically he helped me instead of you," Noel says, and then that same evil smile comes to the surface again. "I wonder why he cared so much that you were watching?"

I ignore her, stealing a glance at Wendy's desk as Sebastian leans over her to take her pencil. His mouth is millimeters away from her ear, and he seems to be whispering something. It all looks so... intimate. I can't watch.

"He obviously was just surprised that I needed help helping you," I say slowly, "just in case you didn't catch that the first five times he said it."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean anything. That's just an excuse." Ana tries to argue, but fails miserably. At least in my mind.

"And what about that answer he came up with? I thought the problem was supposed to be unsolvable."

"Well, it's Mrs. Washington. I'm not really surprised."

I knew it.

Suddenly a blaring voice comes in over the intercom, shocking the entire class. "HELLOOOO Boys and Girls! We have some exciting announcements regarding the SGA election for you today!"

My hand starts shaking again with a furious intensity. The rest of the class looks up, and Mr. Fouse walks over to the door to close it abruptly.

"Unfortunately, two of our seven ballot boxes placed around the school have been misplaced. As a result, a reelection will occur for the position of Treasurer and Secretary next Friday."

Wait... no. No. No no no no no.

"The rest of the positions were won with such a large margin of victory that the two missing ballot boxes would have not made a difference. For President... Sebastian Reynolds!"

The class erupts into applause. Sebastian takes an awkward bow, his smile stretching across his entire face.

"For Historian... Shelby Chase! For Vice President... Lindsay Underwood!" 

After these words, the class dissolves into quiet chatter. Except me, who has been struck silent by the awful announcement. "You mean I have to wait another week to see if I have the position?" I moan, causing Ana to sigh. 

"Sorry, Noel," She responds, "but this development doesn't mean less people are going to vote for you in the reelection. I mean, if someone looked up Secretary in the dictionary, your picture would pop up. You're perfect for the office."

"No guarantees," I mutter, thinking fervently. "I must be absolutely perfect for the next few weeks if I want to win."

"Just be yourself, and you should do just fine," Ana tries to reassure me.

"Well one thing's for sure."

"What?"

"If Wendy didn't have Sebastian's vote before, she has it now." I put my head in my hands, the stress probably getting to me. I worked so hard to get votes, and now it is all going to waste. And it doesn't help that Wendy has been slobbering over Sebastian for about ten solid minutes. I can accept their eventual marriage, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

"Come on, Noel." Ana shakes my arm, "Let's just go to our next class. I'm sure the day will get better for you. It's our last period."

Right. Only one more period to go.

I let her lead me to the door, and the bell rings just as we open it. I think on Ana's words as we walk. Surely this is about the worst my day can get. Which means... it can only get better from here. 

Brightening up considerably, I part with Ana at the stairwell and walk over to the Art classroom, the only part of this school that seems to have any life to it. The hallways here are decorated with various paintings and murals, and the pillars by the doors are covered in painted handprints. 

"It can only get better, it can only get better..." I say to myself fiercely as I swing open the door. The room nearly blinds me as the light from the windows hit me straight in the eye. We don't have desks here, but long tables that are covered in art supplies and random items. I take a seat in my assigned spot, determined to lift my spirits.

Art class has always been a favorite of mine, even though I am not very good at a lot of the stuff we do in here. The best part about it is that the class has no wacky, disruptive kids so the atmosphere is really peaceful. I can relax and calm down from whatever stress I have been having.

Grayson takes a seat beside me, yawning loudly. "Hey Noel," he greets me and grabs a piece of paper from his binder. Without another word, he starts to doodle, sketching buildings and who-know-what-else. He is really quiet, but a really nice guy that I love to be next to. He won't attempt to fill up the silence with meaningless, incomprehensible babble. 

"Hey Grayson," I reply, and grab my own paper. Unlike him, however, I leave mine blank and wait for the teacher to get here.

It takes a few minutes, but Ms. Jackson finally arrives, waving a brush erratically with her hair in a very impressive bun. She smiles at our class of about eight kids while grabbing some more brushes from a jar in the corner of the room. 

Ms. Jackson is a pretty woman about the same age as my grandmother, with dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. What I like about her most is that she gets ecstatic about anything and everything. I always enjoy her energetic presence and it always makes me feel really excited as well, like I could actually be Ana's supposed superwoman in Ms. Jackson's classroom. 

"Good afternoon, class!" Her merry voice rings throughout the room. "I hope you all have had a spectacular day so far!"

There are varied murmurs of agreement, and I think Ms. Jackson takes it for a yes. "Wonderful!" She exclaims, "Today we are going to have a free day. Draw whatever you would like on your paper." She sits down on her desk, probably to work on one of her own drawings. 

Oh, fantastic. I stare at my blank paper, totally dumbfounded. What do I feel like drawing? I always enjoy drawing what Ms. Jackson suggests, but when it comes to choosing my own creation, it's impossible for me to ever decide on anything. 

I stare some more at the blank page for a few minutes, and then cautiously draw a single zig zag line. "Grayson, what does this look like?" I elbow him impatiently.

He slowly takes a glance at my paper, his green eyes dully surveying the messy line. "Uh... lightning, maybe? A cat's whiskers?"

"Okay, perfect." I turn away from him, drawing cotton candy shapes above the zig zag. A thunderstorm suits this piece of paper—and my mood for almost the entire day—perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupts my failed attempts at drawing a dark and dangerous cloud. I don't look immediately, immersed in marveling over such a horrible failure. How could I possibly make a cloud look so incredibly bad?

There is some whispering by the door. Ms. Jackson is probably conversing with some annoying kid. The strange part about it is, out of the corner of my eye I catch Grayson looking at the newcomer. For him, looking at anything other than his drawings during class is extremely abnormal.

I glance around the table to find that all of my other classmates are also staring at the door, their expressions unfathomable. Ok, now I really do have to look at what's going on.

"Class!" Ms. Jackson announces, "We have a new student." I swivel around in my seats to look at her, surprised. I would have never guessed that all the commotion was about a newcomer. Our grade hasn't had a new student since freshman year, and Sunny Valley itself is similar in that new blood just hasn't come to our town for quite a long time. 

I call it "new blood" because most people that move here are related to someone else, and they don't really count. Here in Sunny Valley, the community is just like one gigantic family; with the same problems, endless bickering, and dirty gossip.  To have someone completely new in town... well it just doesn't happen. Usually the road from Sunny Valley to the next town is a one way street—out, of course. 

I mean, other people might not see it that way. But for me personally, I can't wait to get my ticket out of here. I seriously have a calendar dedicated just to counting down the days until I leave for college. I'm going somewhere far away, of course. No way am I going to spend my college years at SVU. 

My eyes widen as the teen beside Ms. Jackson coughs into his fist, and then calmly surveys the few of us. His bright blue eyes deepen into an dark turquoise as his face twists into a smile. This can't be who I think it is.

"This is Kai Mason, and he will be joining us for the rest of the school year," Ms. Jackson continues, smiling like her life depends on it. "Please make him feel welcome."

Well... at least I was right in assuming that the new student wouldn't be a new blood. In fact, he's not new at all.

I grimace as I examine him, taking in his muscled arms, undeniably attractive face, and that very same swagger that always made his presence so... commanding. When he left Sunny Valley, he was a boy. But now, he is every bit of a man, a man with self-awareness and confidence. The only thing childish about him is that expression of mischief in his eyes, the very same that he has possessed since the very beginning. I thought and hoped that he would never come back.

He sits down on a stool at the table, making eye contact with each and every one of us. I can tell what message he intends to send with such an assertive gaze. He is challenging us, challenging all of Sunny Valley. 

I look on my paper and scowl, grinding my pencil into the cloud. It must look deeper, darker... more thunderous. It must be the best thunderstorm I've ever drawn in my whole life. 

Grayson's laugh echoes throughout the room as I accidentally drill a hole through my paper. 

And I thought this day couldn't get any worse.

3

When Kai sat down and immediately started flirting with Margot, I knew he had never changed. 

It has been over three years since he left… three years since he completely wrecked Sunny Valley. And I’m not exaggerating either. Before he started causing trouble, there was no juvie. Now, there’s a specially marked cell in the shiny new detention center that practically has his name on it.  

It’s a shame, really, to have seen the empty building go to waste over these few years. With his departure all the trouble dissipated into thin air and now I think the only thing they have used it for is a daycare.   

I just like to look at the building as his memorial. Whenever we feel like our lives are too complacent and simple, we can just look at the detention center and remember that times weren’t always so easy.  

And it’s not like the pretty pointless prison would have kept him even if he had stayed long enough to use it. His daddy rules this town—quite literally—having been elected our Mayor consistently for over twenty years. No one else really wants the office, mainly because they enjoy having someone other than themselves to pinpoint all of the blame upon. Mayor Mason is the best kind of father in the worst of ways—always believing, always understanding. Kai could burn the town down and he wouldn’t bat an eye. The town never really said much about this unique style of parenting because pretty much all of the citizens have taken advantage of the Mayor’s goodwill at one time or another. 

And it’s not like people could really pin anything on him. Everyone knew the source of all evil was Kai, but those tricky little details and pesky loopholes in every escapade were utilized by him in just about every way possible. He was undeniably amazing at covering his tracks, yet somehow spreading a red carpet over them as well. Once the town got used to his reckless pranks and heists, Kai became the subject of conversation for quite a while. Mothers would argue over which of their daughters could tame the wild beast. Little boys would steal his picture from the newspapers and tape it over their beds to give them inspiration. 

Of course, all these little heists were mostly stupid and pointless in nature, such as marking up the town’s welcome sign and setting off fireworks in the grocery store parking lot. I don’t think he ever physically harmed anyone, though God knows how many broken hearts he has strewn across the courtyard of our school.  

I look up for inspiration of my own, trying to fix this terrible cloud that looks too much like a fat marshmallow. Unfortunately, Kai’s big head blocks most of the window as he bends down closer to Margot’s ear. Anger unconscientiously builds within me, and I try to take deep breaths.  

It isn’t like his existence is going to affect me in any way. I will not let his arrival bring down my spirits. It… isn’t like we have a blood feud or anything like that. In fact, I don’t think he ever knew my name. 

It is rather scary, though, to think of how the school—and all of Sunny Valley for that matter—will react to his untimely return. The kids here will probably go nuts, embracing him with open arms. They practically worshipped him before, and now that he’s back looking better than ever—I mean, if you go for that kind of look—the girls will be fainting at his feet.  

I will say that this is an understandable reaction for even the most frivolous girls here, because most of the guys here set the bar really low. Anyone with a decent pair of ears or eyes is above average. I’m just being brutally honest; what really chimes with our mostly dumbed-down student population is beauty, in any shape or form, and Kai just seems to have it all.  

I know I may seem like I’m ranting. I’m really not. I’m just bashing on one person for an extended period of time.  

“Noel!” Grayson mutters in my ear, startling me from my daze. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“W-What?” My head jerks up, and I suddenly realize I had enlarged the unsightly hole in my paper until it turned into a deep ravine, running through my cloud like an ugly scar. If clouds even had scars, anyways. 

I look up, and am not surprised to see the faces of classmates staring at me in shock. The idiots know I’m insane now, and for this one moment, I don’t even care. Yes, kids, I’m having a bad day. It doesn’t happen often, so savor the moment. 

Without changing my facial expression or reacting in any way, I get up from my chair, scraping the floor. My crumpled up picture falls into the trashcan, and my hand reaches for a piece of paper in the bin on the table. As I turn back, I try not to make eye contact with anyone, taking a seat and staring at yet another blank page. 

Yet somehow I cannot keep myself from looking around the table once more, and immediately my gaze meets a pair of eyes, electric blue in color. Ice immediately runs through my veins and I quickly look down, trying to banish the image of those piercing eyes from my brain. 

The blank page calls to me, this time as an escape. However, I cannot bring myself to make any marks upon the paper. All I can do is stare at it, look at the whiteness, and pray to the Lord that I don’t rip this one to shreds on another impulse.  

I guess I can always rely on Ana to empty the day’s grief upon. She seems to soak up my imperfections like a sponge and then continuously make the ridiculous claim that I’m the most perfect person in this universe. It’s not like I believe her or anything, but it is still an ego booster, although a little annoying at times. I am grateful for her, because she is the best friend someone could ever ask for, but all this perfect junk sets really high expectations. 

I look up again, and this time Kai’s face is turned away from me and is pretty much buried in Margot’s hair as he continues to whisper to her. She giggles, and her face starts to match her bright red hair. 

I almost fall off the chair as the sudden realization hits me. Grayson’s hand is suddenly at my back, supporting me, and he looks at my face in alarm. However, I barely notice his movement at all, my blood running cold. 

How am I going to tell Ana? 

 

* * * 

 

"Hey." A voice murmurs close to my ears, nearly making me jump out of my own skin. I drop the papers I'm carrying, causing them to scatter all over the floor. For a second I can only stare at it, stare at the madness that is my life. 

Trying to keep a calm composure, I turn around slowly. "Oh, it's you, Sebastian," I say, surprised. My anger fades away, leaving only confusion. 

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes, bending down to the floor of the classroom. "I'll pick this stuff up." I stare at the back of his head, still trying to comprehend the situation.  

"Don't worry about it," I finally respond, bending to grab some of the papers, "It's no big deal." 

"It is a big deal, because I was the one that scared you." He emits a deep, throaty chuckle that makes me smile and look up at him. "I didn't know I was so intimidating." 

A few moments of silence pass as we gather up the papers. I'm careful not to look at him so he can't see my shameful, traitorous face grow red. If this body doesn't slow down its heart rate pretty soon I'm going to kill someone after this. 

I wonder why Sebastian is even in here. I'm on classroom duty yet again, which I only sign up for because it gets me brownie points with the teachers. Surely he doesn't need anything from the classroom, or he would have taken it and left. 

I see a paper to the side and grab it, examining it quickly. My eyes widen and I turn in his direction. "Sebastian! This one has your-" A black explosion invades my vision, and I am knocked backwards. 

"Noel!" I can hear him mutter something under his breath, and then a strong arm encircles my body and steadies me. I stagger a little bit, leaning against his chest without quite knowing what I'm doing. 

"W-What happened?" I ask dizzily, stars dancing in front of my eyes.  

"You just stood up underneath the open cabinet and your head hit the corner of it." I try to make out his facial features as he stands above me, everything starting to come back into focus.  

"Oh, shoot. Clumsy me," I start to laugh, probably looking like an idiot, while not really getting the humor in my own situation. It takes a while for me to notice that his hand is still around my waist. 

"Are you sure you are okay?" He asks, his breath close to my ear. I can't prevent a sharp intake of breath, aware of the way my heart is beating like a drum in response. His face is so close, and I can see his dark, mesmerizing eyes. 

"Yeah, y-yeah, I'm sure," I jerk away from him rather ungracefully, now as red as a tomato. "My head is pounding a little bit, but I'm fine." 

"Do I need to take you to the nurse?" He probes, stepping closer.  

"No, no, seriously..." My voice trails off as he gently takes the paper from my fingertips. He stares at it for a while, and then smiles. 

"This is one of my English papers from last year! I wonder why Mrs. Hatcher still has it." 

A pounding erupts in my head, and I lean against the counter, hoping he won't notice how unsettled I am. "It must be a great paper," I respond weakly.  

Of course, he immediately notices and bends even closer. "Noel, don't you dare lie to me. You had to have hit that cabinet really hard." I almost jump halfway across the room as his warm fingers brush against my forehead. 

"It's just a headache, that's all." A headache from both the cabinet and Sebastian's dizzying proximity, I must admit. I lean back a little, hoping to regain my sanity. "I already had one before." 

"I don't believe you. Let me take you to the nurse." He’s touching my arm again. I can't take much more of this. My heart will explode. 

I turn away quickly to straighten the papers on the desk, my vision a little foggy. "There is really no need. Believe me, Mr. President." My voice is soft, but with an unmistakable tremor to it that leaves me on edge. "Congratulations, by the way." 

"Oh... thank you. I was surprised this morning, honestly." He shows that thousand-watt smile again, melting my bones. My knees shake a little bit. 

"Why?"  

"You should have taken the election for your office by a landslide. No one could be a better secretary than you." He says this plainly, full of honesty and sincerity. For a moment, though, I sense a slight waver in his own voice. It is the first time I have ever heard him sound like this. 

"You are being silly," I laugh lightly, pretending I hadn't noticed anything different, "there are lots of talented students here that would do an excellent job if they had the position." 

"You're being even sillier," he jibes, and we both laugh even harder. It seems to be a tension-filled type of laugh, the type that you never want to end because of the imminent threat of silence. "Sure, there are some that would do an excellent job. But I know you would do a fantastic job. I mean, come on, you're the only one who will voluntarily take on classroom duty for teachers that no one even likes." 

Okay, this atmosphere is getting just a little bit weird. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was flirting with me. But surely he isn't. Surely this is some sort of weird dream that I will wake up from in the next few minutes and then discover that my alarm clock had screwed up.  

"Oh yeah," he continues, "I completely forgot why I even came in here. Ana asked me to tell you that she was waiting for you by your car because I was passing by here anyways on the way to the Student Council room." He checks his watch, and then frowns slightly. "I'm already late." 

"I'm sorry, don't let me keep you." It is like suddenly I have emerged out of a slow motion bubble, suddenly popped back into the normal world. I realize that his hand was still slightly brushing against my arm and then slowly start edging towards the door. I have to get out of here. 

He just stares at me as I start to trip over myself while exiting the room. His expression is unreadable, and although I usually pride myself on being able to diagnose faces, this one leaves me stumped. My pace quickens slightly as he starts walking.  

"Wait," he speaks, his voice almost commanding in tone. I lean against the open door, staring back at his approaching form. He now looks almost nervous, which is strange because I have always seen him being confident and self-assured. "Are you coming tonight?"  

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I reply, though inwardly quivering. He opens his mouth to speak again, and I get even more frightened. I have no idea why his closeness makes me feel so… nervous, and vulnerable, but I what I do know is that I need to escape these feelings in my heart. "I really need to go! I'll see you tomorrow!" I smile brightly, knowing I had just cut him off. I quickly retreat into the masses of people, giving him a little wave.  

My head is still pounding, but my heart is in even worse shape. There are too many unanswered questions that I can't stand it. I want to believe that the meeting meant something, but am afraid to assume too much. Calm down, stupid teenage-hormonal heart, I tell myself slowly, this was no big deal.  

I know what it is. This whole day has been so bad that I'm taking a normal conversation with Sebastian and expanding it farther than my wildest fantasies, as if to make my day seem better. He only went looking for me because Ana had asked him to. And all this hand touching business is normal between friends. 

I nearly slam into the brick wall while exiting the building, and then start wobbling over to the parking lot. Everything seems like its dancing all over the place, jumping from the left to the right side of my vision constantly. I can make out a face by my car, and take slow, measured steps towards it. 

"Noel! What's wrong?" Ana races forward, supporting me with her arm, "you look like a zombie." 

"N-nothing," I respond quickly, "nothing at all." She just stares at me, knowing I am lying. I immediately feel really guilty after seeing her curious face bouncing all over my line of sight. Darn my emotions. 

"You can't fool me with that," she smiles, and then slowly some sort of convoluted understanding dawns upon her. "Something must have happened with Sebastian."  

"No! No, no, no, no," I immediately reply, "nothing like you think." Red warms my cheeks, and I turn away while hoping she didn't catch my embarrassment. I know she will make a big deal out of things, and I want her to at least wait until we are away from the student population before she freaks out. 

A tall figure appears in the corner of my eye. Accompanied by Rachel and Josie, the confident man strolls aimlessly into the gravel parking lot to our left. His head is thrown back in silent laughter, and both of his tanned arms are wrapped around the two girls' shoulders. They are coming in our direction, and soon we will be in their direct line of sight. 

"Ana, could you drive for me?" I ask her frantically, all but pushing her into my vehicle. I just can't deal with any sort of confrontation at the moment. It just isn't going to happen. 

"Sure, but only if you tell me all the details," she winks, and I feel relief at the fact that she hasn't noticed his presence. And if I have anything to do with it, she won't notice anything for quite a while.  

As I watch, almost like a guard dog, she swings the door open and slides in. I cast a furious glance at the ticking time bomb coming our way and retreat to the other side of the vehicle, entering the passenger seat. Ana grabs my keys and starts the Jeep, wincing at the coughs my precious car was emitting as the engine revived once more.  

"I really hate to drive your car," she moans, peering at the side view mirrors to make sure the coast is clear. My blood runs cold when she suddenly rolls down the window.  

"Hey guys, you need to move!" I whip my head around after Ana stops yelling, noticing with alarm that the group had stopped close to the Jeep, still talking. Pure dread consumes my thoughts.  

"Don't be too harsh, Ana," I whisper nervously. To me, it is like everything is happening in slow motion. Too scared to accept what's going to happen next, I take deep breaths and turn back to the front. What luck. 

I have to say, I didn't expect to fail quite as quickly as I did. 

"Darned kids," Ana mutters, revving the engine and starting to put the car in reverse. "Talking in the middle of the parking lot while a car is trying to back out is just so mature. I really can't believe some people in our school." 

"Maybe they just didn't notice us," I say cautiously, leaning back against the seat while still taking deep breaths. She didn't notice. Praise Jesus. 

"You know, I don't think so," she reluctantly agrees, "but that doesn't make it any less annoying." As she shifts back into drive, she comments abstractly, "I wonder who they were, anyways." 

"Uh, no one important." My voice is shrill, and I almost choke on air. Really, Noel? Really? 

"Why does your voice sound like that?" She asks, almost as an afterthought. Her thoughts seem to be focused on something else, something besides the road and the other students. I keep silent, sensing that she is in her own little world. 

It is only when she nearly jerks off the road that I get nervous. "Are you okay?" I ask concernedly. She jerks into position, her head snapping up in response to my question. 

"Yes! Yes, I'm okay. I'm just tired. How's your head?" She replies really quickly, acting as if she has been jumpstarted from a battery. I'm used to this kind of reaction from her, especially when she is called on in class by a teacher, but this seems a little different from normal. I didn't notice before, but her eyes look a little bloodshot and I can see some dark circles underneath them. 

"Ana, when did you go to sleep last night?"  

"Well, it was a little late," she admits, tightening her grip on the wheel. "But it's really nothing. I'm going to take a nap when I get home. Speaking of, what happened to you? Why aren't you driving?" 

"To be quite honest, I feel a little dizzy." I subconsciously put a hand to my head, feeling the sizable bump that had formed there. It throbs even still, but not as much as it did minutes before. 

"What did Sebastian do to you?" Ana smiles while swinging the car around a sharp corner and as a result nearly sends me through the window. "It must have been something good." 

"I hit my head." 

"You hit your head, yeah, that must have been—wait, what?" Ana looks at me dubiously. "I go to the trouble of sending Sebastian after you and that's all that happens?" 

"Thanks for the concern." I wince slightly, rubbing my temples lightly. I can't believe it's still hurting. Ana's reckless driving doesn't help matters either.  

"You know I care, but I also know that you probably have the hardest head on the planet." She playfully bonks my head with the side of her arm, sending blinding pain to my head.  

"Ana! Keep your hands on the road!" I squeal, escaping from her and scrunching myself against the corner of the seat. Stars start to dance before my eyes as Ana snaps her attention to the road and swerves to avoid a mailbox. I bend my face towards my knees anxiously, squeezing my eyes shut. "Dear Lord, please forgive me of my sins..." 

"Noel, you can be so dramatic sometimes," Ana sighs exasperatedly, her voice reaching me through the darkness of my arms. I frown as I realize that she is right. I have been unusually emotional all day, and this emotion has been screwing me over. 

It's the stupid morning’s fault. Yes, I know it may be irrational to blame a phase of the day for the problems in my life, but I’m going to do it anyways. 

"I know you are just trying to avoid telling me the juicy details," Ana continues, looking straight ahead with a smile but still managing to grill me with her intensity. I try to ignore her, looking outside and watching houses, trees, and flowers flash by at an alarming speed. In the corner of my eye I catch her expression twisting into one of anger, and suddenly we swerve again to avoid an oncoming vehicle. “Stay on your side of the road!” She shouts, her voice fading in the strength of the wind.  

“Nothing happened,” I finally say out of the silence, “but he did touch my arm a lot.” I’m trying to understate it, because I know Ana. I know how she blows things out of proportion. 

“He totally likes you.” A big smile spreads across her face. “You guys are the cutest couple.” 

Whoa, wait a minute. 

“We aren’t a couple, Ana. Don’t go crazy, okay?” I have to admit, I’m a little worried. This is why I was afraid to tell her anything. “People touch each other all the time.” 

“Not Sebastian.” She winks. “You know that.” 

“He may not be the touchy-feely type, but-“ 

“But what? It’s absolutely perfect.” She smiles at me, slowing down to pull over at her house. “You guys were made for each other.” 

“Shut up,” I whine, opening the car door. I already know that she will never stop. This will never be over.  

“Oh, by the way, I hope you didn’t forget about Lindsay’s party,” Ana says lightly, leaving the driver’s seat and meeting me in the front of the car. “It’s tonight, you know.” 

“Tonight? Screw it,” I mutter underneath my breath, very much aware that I don’t have the vaguest idea what she is talking about. I usually don’t mind going with Ana to stuff, but tonight I really need to work on getting back on schedule. 

“Remember? It’s her birthday bash.” I stare at her unblinkingly. Nope, not ringing any bells. “Sebastian will be there. You have to come,” Ana finally asserts, shooting me a wide smile and then retreating up to the door. “Pick me up at 7!” She yells as she backs into her house. 

“You really need to learn how to drive by yourself!” I yell after her, my voice much louder than intended. I yank the car door open, plop into the driver’s seat, and start the engine with a huff. So this is what Sebastian was talking about earlier. 

I never really liked Lindsay, but I suppose I could make an appearance at her party. Just for a short time… barely a minute. It wouldn’t take long. And I couldn’t possibly disappoint Ana. She probably needs a ride there, and I can’t leave her alone anyways. 

Who am I kidding? 

Unintentionally I catch a glance of my face as it is reflected in the overhead mirror. It is still bright red, making me glad that no one is here to see my overt display of blushing. Curse my pale skin. Curse these silly emotions taking over my heart. 

It was never supposed to be this way. I was all set to take the secretary position without feelings getting in the way of anything. I’m too young to have a crush on someone, especially someone here. I can’t let myself think of love until I’m well and truly out of Sunny Valley. There can’t be a single reason to stay here. 

It can’t be helped, though, that I am attracted to Sebastian. Everything about him seems to embody everything I would want in a potential boyfriend. I try to be cold and unfeeling about all of this, but his caring attitude and determination just keeps making my heart flutter. What I keep trying to get Ana to understand is that I just can’t get involved in this… these feelings of mine. If I want to leave this place once and for all, I must have nothing to leave behind. 

The same scenes flash by as I travel down the street, watching the orange leaves swirl around me, dancing with elegance and grace. The same pleasant houses sit on the same wide street, the same bright sunshine flooding the horizon, leaving only emptiness in my heart. Nothing has changed, and nothing will change. This place is so… stagnant. 

I enjoy routine more than anyone. I’m not a fool; I know I am crazy. Sunny Valley should especially appeal to me, given its stability. But the monotony of this tiny town is just not enough to feed my ambition. I refuse to believe that this is all the world has to offer.  

It is only minutes before I pull up at my house. By this time I have been completely covered in negativity, draped like a thick blanket over my shoulders. I need some rest right now before I accidentally explode on my mother.  

Quickly I lock the car door, scamper to the front door, and rap on the glass. Soon my mother’s face appears in the doorway. She’s beaming, nearly blinding me with her brightness. 

“You’re back, Noel!” She sings loudly, staring at me through the window with that same irritating smile.  

“Yep,” I reply slowly, evenly matching her gaze. “Let me in.” 

“Say the magic word,” she teases, still half-singing and half-talking. For a little while I glare at her, and she steadily looks back. I wonder how she can possibly keep that ridiculous smile—that consumes half her face—up. 

“…Please,” I croak, and her face instantly disappears. The door swings open and Mother beckons me inside. 

“How was your day, sweetie?” She asks as I wordlessly pass her, dragging my stuff to the base of the stairs. Without a second thought, I trooped up to my room, pens and papers still falling out of my upside-down backpack.  

As soon as I reach the bed I practically fall upon it, sinking deeply into the mattress and closing my eyes. Yes, this feels good. I could probably stay here forever. 

An itch begins at the base of my neck, making me shake slightly. I roll around to get comfortable, reaching with my hand to scratch it. 

I know what it is. It’s the endless itch of restlessness, the desire to move constantly. I’ve been cursed with this since I was little, this powerful drive to always be doing something.  

I struggle for a moment on the bed, laziness intertwined with anxiety, and then my eyes finally start to close, signaling a fitful rest. 

4

“Noel, wake up.” 

I yawn and stretch out on the mattress. Rolling over on my side, I let out a sigh of contentment. 

“Five more minutes…” I groan, being dragged to reality much faster than I want, no, need to be. Ponies are still dancing before my eyes, surrounded by rainbows and living in a garden that grows different colors of Skittles. I reach up to the nearest tree and snatch an orange piece, take a bite, and laugh as the sweet and tangy taste sends me to pure ecstasy.  

"Are you sick?" The voice asks with concern. It's definitely Mom. 

"No..." I blink, my eyes adjusting to the harsh lights surrounding me. "Why... why would you think that?" 

"Well, sweet pea, you never sleep in the afternoons. Right now you are usually still slaving over homework that those monstrous teachers stack you with every night." 

I can't help but laugh at this, sitting up against the wall and looking at my mother. "Is it a crime for me to be sleeping right now?"  

"No!" Her face, aged well and still abounding in natural beauty, twists in frustration. I giggle as she continues. "You know what I mean, Noel." 

"Yes, I do." I reach out and touch her arm, still a bit groggy. "I'm just giving you a hard time, as usual." 

"Did anything happen at school today?" 

"Oh, today was horrible..." Pictures of Kai's face, the election results, and my piercing headache flash through my mind. But then there was Sebastian picking up my papers, and the electrifying chills I felt when he touched my arm. "No, it was a good day..." Conflicting emotions just make things so confusing. 

Still waging an internal battle, my mom decides to state the obvious. "That's a contradiction, sweetheart." 

"Well, it was a little bit of both I guess." I give up on trying to classify my day, red blossoming on my cheeks. Mother stares at me for a minute, then she laughs. 

"It's not often that I get to see you like this!" Her smile grows wide and she reaches out to tousle my hair. "You are so adorable." 

"Mom!" I growl, rolling away from her. 

"I get it, I get it. It's just sometimes I can't help myself," she says, still chuckling. Her laugh irritates me to no end. Seriously, when I picture a classic, crooked-nose Halloween witch in my mind, I don't hear that crazy cackle that kids like to associate with it. The witch always possesses that insane laugh of my mother's; it gives me goosebumps every single time I hear it. I'm not kidding. 

"How cute."  

We both turn in unison at the sound of Ana's voice, I nearly having a heart attack when I see her leaning against the doorway. Instinctively I back away and nearly tumble off my bed. 

"Ana! What the crap are you doing here?" I yell while pulling myself back to the center of the mattress. 

"Making sure you remembered," she replies cooly, her eyes sweeping over my form. "Obviously, you didn't." 

"Who let this psychopath in?!" I point at her while fuming. It was meant to be a joke in my head, but in my post-nap delirium I can tell that I'm only half-joking. She smiles in response, walking closer.  

"Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty." Ana rips all the covers off, leaving me shivering as the chilling air slaps against my body. 

"I let her in five minutes ago," Mother explains apologetically while Ana starts pushing me towards the edge of the bed. Well, thanks. 

"Ana!" I scream as the force from her arms nearly sends me rolling off the mattress. "What the crap! Stop!" 

"We have like ten minutes until we need to leave," Ana says, almost as an afterthought. She turns to my mom and addresses her determinedly. "Mrs. Richards, can you find Noel a slightly dressier outfit for her to wear?" 

"What!" I exclaim as she walks over to my bathroom like she owns the place and starts to plug in my straightening iron. "Where are we going? What's going on?" 

"Party, Noel... the party. I told you earlier today." 

"I don't wanna.." I yawn, leaning back against the bed again. It feels so soft, like I'm floating on a cloud. "I don't even know Lindsay that well. Just go without me. I need to recover..." 

"Noel, you're coming even if I have to drag you there by your feet,” Ana snaps, “Sebastian will probably be waiting for you, anyways.” 

“I don’t want to see Sebastian right now,” I moan as Mother raises an eyebrow inquisitively, “Nor anyone else in this universe.”  

“Don’t be difficult, Noel. Just give up.” Ana tugs on my leg, and this time I actually do fall off, pounding upon the hardwood floors. 

“Ow!” I scream, propping myself up and off the floor. Mom stares at Ana, seemingly unperturbed. What great help she is. 

Rachel pads to the doorway, her face lighting up as soon as she catches sight of Ana. It’s pretty obvious that she idolizes her, with the way Rachel follows us around every time she comes over. “What’s going on?” She asks excitedly. 

“I need you, Rachel. You can pick out her clothes so Mrs. Richards doesn’t have to help,” Ana commands, and then turns her head graciously towards my mother. “I thought you might like some time to yourself so you can finish your cake you left sitting downstairs.” 

Mother’s hand flies to her face as her eyes widen. “Oh, poppycock, I forgot all about it!” She squeals, turning and leaving the room in a flash. I watch her leave, and then dubiously tilt my head towards Ana. 

“Poppycock?” Ana snickers, her hands reaching for my body. I glare at her as she lifts me up, and then leads me to the bathroom. “Good thing you already have makeup on. We can just darken it up a little.” 

“Ana, I know what you’re doing. You’re going to try and force me into some inappropriate clothing that Mother would never pick out, aren’t you?” I glance into the bedroom, where Rachel is laying out several audacious clothing combinations onto the bed. 

“This isn’t a family game night.” Ana rolls her eyes. “And what better time to show some skin? Election day is just around the corner.” She takes my hair and starts to curl it, but almost immediately afterwards changes her mind on the spur of the moment and pulls out a straightener from my drawer.  

“Reelection day,” I mutter, grabbing a smoky palette and gingerly applying the darkest shade to my outer corner. I wince at the rich burgundy color that I was not very used to, contrasting with the paleness of my skin tone.  

“I always thought that deep reds and pinks suits your eye color best,” Ana comments, picking up the straightener and getting the kinks out of my bed head. My hair is naturally straight, so she is probably just fixing it up a bit. 

I take the color called rose from the corner of the palette and put some in the inner corners of my eyelid, blending it all out with a brush and then extending my eyeliner past the normal shape of my eyes. I have to admit, this Noel excites me in some ways. She seems more confident and daring. With this dark, sultry look, I might have a chance at making Sebastian feel at least slightly attracted to me. I mean... not that I care. 

“We have about no time,” Ana says, glancing at her watch. With a sigh she rips out the cord to the straightener and pulls me to the bed, where I just stare at all the mess of clothing I didn’t know I had. 

“What’s this?” I ask, pulling up a tiny, black piece of fabric that was about as long as my hand. “A headband?” 

“A skirt,” Rachel says, “it’s one of mine.” 

I twist from my position to stare at her. “How did you get this past Mom?” 

“Mona, don’t worry about that. We have to get you dressed. How… do you feel about this?” Ana holds up a short dress with green detailing and a gold necklace. 

“That’s cute, but way too short.” I blush imagining myself wearing that dress in front of the high school population. To be honest, I had bought the dress with every intention of saving it until I move to New York, Chicago, or anywhere that doesn’t start with Sunny. In places like that, no one will know me and I can wear whatever I want. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? Not for a birthday party!” Ana remains insistent, her gaze piercing. “This is too hot for you not to wear.” 

“I’m not wearing that dress.” I shake my head firmly. 

“Then you are wearing this,” Ana insists, pulling a black mini dress from the pile. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s so tight it’s illegal,” I say, staring at it with wide eyes. It’s so small it looks like pantyhose. Where the crap did Rachel get that? 

“A little risqué, but it will get the buzz going,” Ana replies nonchalantly, “and get the attention you need.” 

“It’s not like you are wearing anything like that,” I scoff, staring pointedly at her oversized jacket and jeans.  

“I have a nice shirt on underneath this. I just got cold on the way over. And my monster heels are sitting in the car.” By monster heels, she means her six inch spiky wedges, which strikes fear into both the hearts of men and women. Well, it scares me, anyways. 

She flashes her jacket open, revealing a bright, gold sequined top that frays off into tiny silver strips right below her belt. It’s certainly eye-catching, and I blink my eyes several times. “What is that, Ana? Are you hoping to blind the entire party when you walk in the door?”  

“Possibly. I don’t know,” she smiles, “I felt like being flashy. And so should you.” 

“I’m not even the birthday girl,” I mutter, grabbing a set of tight black pants and a dark green shirt also on the bed. “I’ll just wear this for now.” The last thing I want to do is walk into a party I wasn’t even officially invited to while overdressed. 

“If you switch that green shirt for this yellow one, it’s a deal,” Ana bargains, and I cringe slightly. The shirt in question is pretty low in the front and cinches in my waist so tightly that it’s a little hard for me to breathe. 

“Fine.” I grab the clothing and change in the bathroom. As I do so, I can’t help but just wonder in my head why I allow Ana to sucker me into doing all this stupid stuff. There are much better things I could be doing right now. Like sleeping. Or dreaming about Sebastian instead of having to worry about meeting him and revealing any of my vulnerabilities. 

When I step out into the room, Ana smiles in satisfaction as she surveys me. “I love that shirt,” she says soothingly while patting my back in circular motions, “you have to let me borrow it.” She knows I’m anxious and self-conscious, probably made obvious by my shortness of breath.  

She waves to Rachel as she guides me down the stairwell. “Your heels look great, Noel, though they don’t exactly stack up to my own.” She winks at me, making me laugh. I am reminded of how much I really love her. 

I stumble to the door, at which Ana throws me a careless glance. “We are taking the Jeep, right?” She asks, turning the knob. I try to get adjusted to my four inch heels, the wind slapping my face as a sinking feeling gathers in my stomach. 

“I don’t know about this, Ana…” I mutter as I clatter down the steps and nearly trip over the last one. I have never been adept at heels, this fact made very obvious by my struggling. “You know, this could backfire,” I say as I swing open the driver side, “I could trip in front of everyone and then look like a total idiot.” 

“Noel, you couldn’t look like an idiot if you tried. Well, unless you’re mad at someone.” She is is probably the only one outside my family to know about my temper issues. Basically, I am pretty slow to anger, which is how I have tried to both tame and hide my anger when I am with anyone I’m unfamiliar with. I like to give the person a little benefit of the doubt, recite the social stigmas that would cast me out of the running for Secretary, and think about all the times when my temper got me into big trouble every time I get really close to my breaking point.  

I’m not the type to compare myself to ridiculous inanimate objects like some people in these parts like to do in abundance, but I have to admit my problems can be summed up in one word: volcano. And even now, as I am thinking this, I am mentally slapping myself. 

Embarrassment is also a big problem in my life, as it relates to my anxiety and the overwhelmingly high standards I set for myself. That is why I tend to stick to what’s comfortable, such as my plans, my habits, and my flat shoes. 

And no, before you start to feel pity for me, I don’t have that thing where people start hyperventilating whenever they are in a weird situation. But I do feel intense fear and nausea, information I usually don’t volunteer to the general public. 

“I don’t know where we are going,” I say quietly, at which point Ana starts to get frustrated. I can see it in her eyes—the spark of something bright and fearsome. I shut my mouth tightly, keeping both hands on the wheel. We both know I know the way to Lindsay’s house. Even though she’s the bad word for a flirt, the two of us have good relations with her and she’s invited us to her house several times to hang out with her current boyfriends. Personally, she reminds me of a little rat, always squeaking on and on without anyone caring to listen. 

“I hope you didn’t bring a swimsuit,” I finally comment, after a long period of driving in silence. I know Ana gets annoyed at me sometimes, but after a while she usually calms down and we can talk again. 

“I didn’t, thank God,” She replies, the hint of the smile on the corner of her lips. “You know what happened last time we did.” 

“How could I forget? When Lindsay told us to change and swim with her in the fifty degree weather and we couldn’t get out of it…” I laugh with her, the awkwardness fading away. “Good times, huh?” 

“Yeah…” Ana says abstractly. She seems to be thinking about something, her lips pursed together. “I… wonder who else is going to be here besides your dream man.” 

“Are you looking for anyone?” I ask jokingly, not expecting any sort of real reaction. But then I see a red splotch on her cheeks, and get more than a little worried. “Oh no.” 

“Well, I was hoping to meet Matt… possibly…” She says softly, making me almost throw up in my mouth. No… she couldn’t mean… 

“Carter? Please tell me-“ Her facial expression cuts me off.  

I guess I should have known it would be him sooner or later. “I think you two would suit each other.” I sigh, trying to give my support. 

"Are you sure it's fine?" 

"It's... fine. Really. No problem," I say, trying to hide the shakiness that I inwardly felt. 

"If it bothers you, tell me. I don't want-" 

"It's fine. You have the right to like whomever you want. I'm not trying to stop you." 

"Noel..." She glances at me, and a blush colors my cheeks. I guess I have to tell her now, or else she will never let me hear the end of it. I can't stand it when she just stares at me, and as a result I always break down eventually. I'm not proud of that fact, but it is what it is. 

"I just really, really hate that kid." I narrow my eyes, and Ana's eyes widen. "On our dates, he would pick his nose when he thought I wasn't looking, talk about boring crap the entire time without letting me get a word in, and even order my food for me. It wouldn't even be food that I liked." 

"You... dated him?" Ana asks, her tone incredulous. I look at her, confused.  

"Maybe, so what?" I ask, eyes glued to the road. Red is on my cheeks now, proof of the embarrassment I can't help but then. This is why I don't like to share anything about my woefully inadequate love life. 

"You don't still like him, do you?" 

"I pretty much hate him with all of my guts," I disagree angrily, "but if you want to date him, that's okay, I guess." 

Ana just stares at me.  

"Okay, I don't hate him. I don't think he hates me either. But I broke up with him because he's super annoying, and I don't know I could take him sitting at our lunch table every day after he asks you out." 

She's still staring at me. 

"Stop it, Ana." 

"When did you date him?!" She explodes, questioning me excitedly.  

"Oh, it was freshman year, before we were really friends."  

"How did I not know this?" She asks. 

The question was probably a rhetorical one to herself, but I answer it anyways. "I never told you. It's embarrassing." 

"No it's not! Matt is so cute, Noel!" 

"He's such an idiot." 

"Maybe, but he's hot and funny and popular and Sebastian's best friend!" 

"New revelation, huh? That I can get a guy to like me?" I ask, raising my eyebrows dubiously. She better watch it, getting so excited. 

"No, you know I don't mean that." She waves her hand, dismissing my words. "It's just a lot for me to take in at once. Here I am, thinking you have never had a boyfriend before, that Sebastian was your first crush... And you're actually an experienced woman!"  

"Don't say it like that. That's just weird."  

"Okay, okay. Fine." Ana sits back in her seat, calming down. "I wonder what other secrets you are hiding, huh?" 

"I got nothing," I say jokingly, "you've uncovered them all."  She looks at me probingly. "I doubt it." If I didn't know better, I'd think she was serious.  

"You know, I've dated someone else before Matt," I confess as we turn on Lindsay's street. Cars start to multiply along the sides of the road, and even in some lawns. "Did she freaking invite the whole school?" 

"Who was it?" Ana's eyes light up. I pull into a tight spot near Lindsay's house, marveling at my parallel parking skills as I do so. 

"Conner Walters," I snicker, watching Ana's expression morph into one of uncontrollable hilarity.  

"And when was that?"  

"Fifth grade. He wasn't so... crazy then." I turn the key, listening to the last wails of the engine. "And that is the extent of my love life." 

We laugh for a minute, because we both find the fact that I dated him ridiculous. Connor today is known for his pointless antics across town, his weird comments he makes in class, and especially his habits of running in front of moving vehicles to save bugs that may or may not be on the road.  

"Well, tonight the door is about to open to your brand new love life," Ana says jokingly, "so get ready!" 

I shoot her a glare, and then open my Jeep door. I peer at the car in front of me, a blue Nissan, and notice my lights flashing upon its back. Hurriedly I turn back to flip the light switch, and exit the car, nearly turning my ankle on the way down from the seat. 

By this point Ana is already halfway to the door. "Come on!" She calls, gesturing to me before she keeps moving. I finally look up at the building, and am alarmed to see literally crowds of people, way more than I'm used to seeing in any one space. This is a little ridiculous even for Lindsay.  

Hobbling over to the steps, a few people I vaguely know wave at me. I wave back, plastering a smile onto my far. "Nice to see you!" I call, to which they yell back something I can't hear. I think they are sophomores, and honestly I couldn't name them if I tried. But name or not, they're a vote.  

Ana is waiting for me at the door. Already I can hear the boom of the stereo, and the flash of lights illuminating the doorway. "What is this?" I murmur to her, walking up beside her. 

"Looks like they hired a DJ," Ana whispers back, "it's legit." 

Where in the world did they get a DJ? I know Lindsay's parents are rich, but this is ridiculous. This is turning out to be one of those stereotypical frat parties that I've read about in books. All they need is the booze and it would be all set. 

Here in Sunny Valley, there are no real frat parties. Well, not that I know of. Our town is generally the type to require all social gatherings to have an abundance of sweet tea and plenty of chicken fingers for everyone. I mean, there’s always alcohol, but we have a pretty distinct Southern way of getting drunk that differs from the banal norm.  

I jump backwards as the door is flung forwards, a guy stumbling out almost as terribly as me in my heels. He trips, but catches himself on the railing. 

"Uh... Joshua?" Ana asks, reaching out to support him. He straightens, turning back to look at her. "Is something wrong?" 

"U-uh, uh, nothing. I just needed some fresh air," he replies, grabbing his t shirt with shaky movements and lifting it to wipe the sweat off of his face. "I-it's hot in there." I watch his bronze hair fall into his face as he peers into Ana's eyes, most likely enamored. Or intoxicated. 

"He's drunk, Ana. We should get out of here," I say quietly. Ana catches my words, and hastily let's go of Joshua.  

"I never thought he would be the type."  

"Well, is anyone here really the type?" I ask her, and then grab her arm. "We're leaving." 

"It's just a little alcohol. Come on, let's just go in," Ana urges me, pulling me towards the open doorway. Over her head I can see tons of bodies, all moving awkwardly to some rap song.  

"My head hurts," I complain, placing a hand on my temple.  

"Wha-" 

"Hey! Ana! Noel!" A breathless voice erupts from the background music and chaotic conversations. "I'm glad you could make it!"  

I quickly remove my hand from my head. "Hey... Lindsay. Nice party you have going on here," I say, trying to act excited. "Here's a card from me." I hand her an envelope, and her bright blue eyes light  up.  

"Thanks Noel! Oh, and that's so sweet of you, Ana!" She takes Ana's present in the blink of an eye. "So, is there any reason why y'all are hanging around outside?" 

Lindsay is friendly, I'll give her that. Perhaps uncomfortably so. But at least she looks beautiful, with her blond hair arranged elegantly and her gold dress shining with iridescence.  

"You look gorgeous," Ana enthuses, her eyes glued to the dress. Lindsay laughs, smiling brightly. 

"Thanks! You guys should come inside!" She holds the door, gesturing for us to come in. Have I mentioned that she always tends to speak with exclamation points? For some reason, it makes it entirely too hard to refuse her and walk back towards my Jeep. Which is what I desperately want to do right now. The last thing I need is for everyone to get caught and for me to get in trouble by association. 

I follow her inside, noting the musk that immediately surrounds us when we do so. "Where's your parents, Lindsay?" I ask her in low tones, and she giggles. Giggling? Lindsay? She has to be at least a little tipsy. 

"On vacation. Why?" She asks, a slight drawl on the edge of her words. 

“Uh, no reason. Just wondering. How did you manage to put this party together?” I ask her, keeping my tone light, yet inquisitive. I scan the crowded room, Ana having disappeared into the darkness. My eyes narrow as I make out Wendy’s body, clad in a gorgeous red dress, heading towards a secluded looking hallway. 

“Well, it’s a funny story, actually…” Lindsay smiles, raising a hand to her hair bashfully, “I… uh… never really meant to have a DJ and all that, but since my good friend was coming into town, he helped me with everything.” 

“Good… friend.” I wink at her, and she blushes. Lightly I elbow her, at which her eyes widen in surprise. 

“You can see right through me,” She whispers, “Yeah… I think I like him.” She lowers her gaze to the ground in a surprising show of embarrassment.  

“He must be an amazing guy.” I grin widely. Lindsay smiles at me thankfully. 

“You’re like the nicest person I know, Noel,” She says. I smile back, trying my best to look the part.  

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder in a half-hug, and then quickly pull away. “I’m going to find Ana, is that okay with you?” 

“Oh, yes. I hope you enjoy!” She replies, and is almost immediately swarmed by her posse. And by posse, I mean her many “male friends with benefits”. In the corner of my eye I can catch her winking at one of them, and I inwardly puke in the mouth.  

For a woman like her, what can the word like really mean? I can’t believe that she thought I believed in her crap, because even she knows that she will take anyone with a mouth and the right lower anatomy. 

And me? Nice? Those are pretty words, but are as empty as my own. 

I wander throughout the crowd, hating the feeling of bodies mashing close to my own, not caring to look at their faces. I hear murmured greetings, but I don’t reply, too mentally drained by all the noise to feel amiable. I knew I never should have come, and especially when it turned out like this. I can literally smell the alcohol, with it reeking off both people and even the furniture. I wonder who brought the booze, because there’s no way Lindsay could have gotten this at the local store where everyone knows she’s under 21. 

Up close to the DJ a couple people are grinding, and I laugh when I notice their faces. Jeanette, Lucas, and Andrew look so awkward, and Penn is actually much better than she should be, considering that she’s the minister’s daughter. It’s amazing how drinking can so completely change a person. I pretty much stare at the four for a good ten seconds, probably looking pretty awkward myself by standing still. 

“Hey, Noel,” A voice calls out to me, “what’s up?” I turn to see Sebastian sauntering towards me, the hint of sweat on his brow. I can tell he also feels a little out of place here, although it might just be me making things up on my own.  

“Oh, hey,” I reply nonchalantly, trying to act unaffected by the sound of my name on his lips. It’s not a big deal. We’re friends, and friends talk to each other. And look for each other in parties. 

He is wearing pretty casual clothing, which attracts my attention because he usually tends to wear more classy shirts to school. His dark brown Henley stretches across his muscular shoulders, enhancing the color of his eyes and his athletic physique. Seeing him like this sends a strange exhilaration through my veins that I can’t even try to explain. It reminds me that this isn’t the educational environment that I am so used to, and anything can happen. 

My gaze is almost immediately drawn to his hair, sweeping across his face in glossy locks that just beg to be swept aside. The style was different than normal, with the best word to describe it being untamed. That could just be because of the heat in this room, but it still sets my heart on edge. I try to stop my heart from beating so quickly, but I can’t help my reaction from being approached by him in this atmosphere. 

“Well, I…” He reaches up and rubs his hair, looking around the room before his gaze returns to my own. “I’m glad I found you. I thought you weren’t going to show up after a while.”  

“Ha, that mostly had to do with Ana. She was giving me a lecture on proper clothing and makeup at a party, and you know how long she can keep going on and on about stuff.” I laugh, taking a few steps towards the wall and out of the throngs of people. He follows me, and I can feel his gaze travel down my skin as we do so. “Were you looking for me?” I smile, turning around when I reach the wall.  

“Guilty as charged.” He raises his hand, “I want to say that I have an excuse for seeking you out, but I don’t. Well, not until next Friday.”  

“What happens next Friday?” I watch his eyes, drowning in the mesmerizing darkness they emanate.   

“When you win the election, of course. We talked about it earlier today,” he says, winking at me. I inwardly melt into a puddle on the floor. “Which, by the way, I didn’t appreciate you running away from me earlier. Am I really that repulsive?” 

“N-No! You’re not repulsive at all!” I hurriedly try to respond, the red flowing to my ears. “You’re-“ 

“What?” He asks, grinning widely. Mischief is in his eyes now, an emotion I’ve never gotten to see before in him. He stretches out a hand and uses it to lean against the wall, now much closer to me than should be socially acceptable. I shrink away, stripped of all thought or reason.  

“Nothing,” I mumble, and look away. Wow. I’m not doing very well in conversing with him, am I? 

I nearly jump out of my skin as his hand wraps around my wrist and gently tugs me back to where I was. “Here you are, running away again.”  

“I… wasn’t running away,” I protest, looking up at him. He smiles, his grip tightening on my wrist.  

“At least when you’re my Secretary you can’t run from me anymore,” he says softly, his eyes deepening to almost a black. “I can call you anytime you want, and you can’t escape.” 

“I’ve never tried to escape, okay?” I finally respond in a somewhat normal tone. “And I wouldn’t try to, anyways. You’re a good friend.” 

His eyes cloud over at the word friend, and his fingers loosen over my wrist. It is only for a second, and then his demeanor snaps back to normal. “Yeah, you’re right. I just like to tease you sometimes.” 

I laugh, and lower my arm. His hand falls away and I feel a strange coldness in its place. “I know you do. I’m pretty easy to tease as well, I have to admit.” 

“I’m really glad you came to the party now, since we got to have such a pointless but pleasant conversation.” Sebastian says, taking his other hand away from the wall. “You look really pretty, by the way. I think I forgot to tell you earlier. It’s nice to see you like this.” 

I blush a deep red, feeling almost too flustered to speak. Sebastian just complimented me. I think I can just die now and go to heaven.  

“Like this?” I ask, trying not to look like an idiot. “What do you mean by that?” 

“You know, in a casual setting and all that. We should—um, we all should—do something like this again.” 

“Your house next time, huh?” I ask, elbowing him in the arm. I can slowly feel things going back to normal. 

He turns around and takes a look at the people in the lounge. “Well, after looking at all the wreckage… I don’t know if my house would be the best place, especially if I expect to live past 18.” 

We both look at the crowd, watching the clearly inexperienced teenagers throw beer bottles around and fall over on the couches. I’m 99% certain almost everyone in here has never gotten drunk before. “Pretty bad, huh?” I see Ana on the piano bench, talking to Matt energetically. At least she’s not getting into much trouble. 

“Um, it’s sort of a disaster. Most of these people don’t need to be drinking. Ever,” Sebastian comments, “I wonder how the alcohol got here anyways.” 

Out of the corner of my eye I see the back door slide open, and the resounding cheers of the surrounding people. A figure walks in, carrying a few beers, and Lindsay immediately runs and pretty much pounces on him.  

One beer spills over her, running down her neck and chest. I can see her making a suggestive glance at the man, and his own face stretching into a roguish smile. Light brown curls fall into his face as he roughly places the beers on the coffee table and grabs her, landing a sloppy kiss on her lips. His right hand reaches for her breast, clutching it through the thin fabric. A chorus of yells erupt around them, and my gaze immediately gravitates to Ana.  

Sebastian turns back to me, his expression of inexplicable anger. “He’s really an-“  

“Sorry, Sebastian,” I say quickly, “I have to go. See you.” I immediately race along the wall, my own love prospects forgotten.  

“Noel? Where are you going?” His voice fades into the background, and I dismiss it without a second thought. 

“Ana. Ana!” I call her name, and a blonde head twists around from the piano bench. Matt was holding her hand, obviously about to confess to her judging from his expression. “We have to go outside, now.” 

“Noel!” She exclaims, shooting me a dirty look. “Not now. In a minute.” She turns her attention back to Matt and smiles at him. 

I turn back around to see the man coming towards the center of the room, holding Lindsay with his arm and roughly fondling her with his hand. A crazy look of drunken happiness is plastered onto her features. He, on the other hand, seems to be scanning the room, as if challenging anyone to say anything about his actions.  

“No. Now.” I grab Ana’s arm, and pull her up with incredible force. She glares at me, but I am too frantic to care. 

“What the crap, Noel?” Her face is bent in fury, but I barely cast it a glance. 

“You have to trust me, Ana.” I head towards the door, trying to keep my head down to make it more quickly through the mass of bodies. If people don’t see your face, they can’t greet you, which suits me just fine at the moment. 

We almost reach the door at the end of the room when I hear my name being called. I turn quickly to see Sebastian making his way towards me, his expression of concern. I keep moving, trying to get his face out of my thoughts. “Noel, Sebastian is calling you,” Ana says plainly. 

“I know.” I open the door, and start to step out. I hear my name again, and it’s Sebastian again, much closer than before. My gaze shifts around the room, and this time I see the same pair of bright blue eyes that freaked me out in Art class this afternoon. They seem to be studying me, staring deep into my soul with its intensity. Frightened beyond almost anything I have ever experienced, I tear my own eyes away, just about pushing Ana through the door.  

“To the Jeep,” I command through gritted teeth, pulling her hand with all of my strength. 

“You better explain this later,” Ana says rather calmly, but with a hint of malice. I know she’s super mad, but all I can focus on is that we have to escape. Escape from this party, escape from everything. 

I cast one last glance backwards and see Sebastian on the railing. We don’t make eye contact, but I know that the one he is trying to find is me. Thank you, God, for the darkness of the night.  

We run to the Jeep, and I pant heavily as I open the car door. It takes a minute, but I soon gather enough energy to crank the engine, and carefully maneuver myself out of the parking space.  

I zoom away, trying to think of my destination but am unable to forget. I keep pressing the gas pedal, watching the meter go from ten, to twenty, to thirty… 

“Noel! Police car ahead!” Ana alerts me, and I take my foot off the gas. Sure enough, there is one, racing past me in the same direction from which we came. She stares after it, and then turns back to me wonderingly. “Oh, I see. You truly are amazing, Noel. How did you know the police were coming?” 

“Uh, some guy who was leaving told me,” I say abstractly, trying to concentrate on driving. But I just can’t forget. 

There’s just something about those stupid blue eyes that make me feel like I have lost it all. 

 

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Impressum

Texte: Lorelei Sutton
Bildmaterialien: Lorelei Sutton
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.12.2013

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