The Heartbroken

Prologue If I could fly in any direction, where would it be? Would I be headed in one direction? Would I be fixing my gaze and limiting my focus on one, straight line? Would I be following that straight line, enjoying the way the wind would rush to meet me, the way the clouds would softly dissipate as I pass them, the way my eyes would automatically flutter close? Or would I let the wind take me anywhere? Would I go north, south, east, west, or a mix of all these directions— going nowhere in particular? Would I let time pass me by as I glide effortlessly through the limitless sky? Would I close my eyes, feel every little thing in the world—the soft hum of the wind, the coldness of the sky enveloping me as I took flight, the way my mind would release itself from my consciousness —and feel as light as a feather carried by the wind in midair? Would I slip into an endless flight, never fixing my gaze on a straight line, never giving myself limitations and restrictions? I would probably choose the second one. To let every little worry completely slip off of my mind. I would probably take flight and get carried away. Flight means freedom. It has no restrictions. It has no limitations. It allows you to feel like leaving your worries far below you. Flight must be a wonderful thing. But I could never fly. Ever. Not in the way I’d want to. I could never soar through the skies, not now, not ever. But that’s okay. I don’t have to fly, because I found something better. Something else. Something way better than flying.

Chapter One I hated Cedric. Every little piece of him —from his gorgeous brown eyes, his adorable geeky smile, and the way he would look when he was solving a difficult Calculus problems, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. Of course, I hadn’t always hated pieces of him. In fact, they used to be the things that kept me on my toes, the things that never failed to make my heart thump, sending butterflies to my stomach. But then he broke my heart. And the worst part? There was no way I could've seen it coming. It was his birthday. Seventeenth of June, in the middle of summer. We’ve been spending more and more time together. Sometimes we’d read in his room, listening to some music, occasionally taking a break and making out. We started going out two years ago. He was my first boyfriend, first kiss, first date—and I really believed that he’d be my last. At that point, it didn't seem possible that we would ever end up the way we did. The funny thing was that everything was sailing smoothly. I was in love with him, and I was falling deeper everyday. I would wake up to thoughts of him and fall asleep with the memory of his voice in my head. I thought it was the same for him. Apparently not. “Wow. You really overdid yourself,” Hail said as she gazed at my birthday present for Cedric. We were in my room, both of us seated on my bed as we tried to decide what I should wear for my date with Cedric later. We agreed to meet on the beach a few towns over later at six in the evening. I couldn't decide which dress to wear. I'd gone shopping, something I didn't normally do, but ended up buying three dresses. I called Hail to help me choose. The moment she walked into my room, she saw the guitar and her face lit up. “You think he’d like it?” I asked her, looking at the corner of my room, where I had placed the guitar case, propped against the wall.

I had been saving for months to buy Cedric a new electric guitar. I took a part-time job at a little boutique in town and saved most of my allowance so I could come up with enough money to buy it. “He’d love it!” Hail told me, her eyes shining bright. “You guys are the cutest couple in the world. It's really amazing how you started off as best friends before going out. Pretty soon you’d marry each other and I’ll be your maid of honor. Then you’d be having babies and—” “Oh, my god, stop it,” I told her, fighting the urge to blush. Of course that was exactly how I envisioned it. I thought there was no way we wouldn't eventually get there. That night, I didn't mind dressing up, which was saying a lot. I was the type of girl who preferred comfort over appearance, choosing to wear a sweatshirt over a cute blouse. But I wanted to make Cedric's birthday special, so Hail helped me curl my brown locks. I applied some makeup, something I wasn't exactly quite fond of. We ended up choosing the plain white sundress that looked surprisingly good on me. I brought the guitar with me, nestled in its case. I used the straps of the case and carried it like a backpack, underestimating the guitar's weight. So I stood there in the cold, summer night with my sundress on and a guitar case slung over my back, waiting for Cedric to show up. At some point, I set the guitar down, propping it carefully against the sand. He was uncharacteristically late. It had been two hours and he wasn't picking up any of my phone calls. I was starting to get worried. “Hey, babe. You play?” At first I thought it was some sort of weird, out-of-character joke from Cedric, but when I looked up, it wasn’t. In fact, it was Seth Everett. He stood in front of me with his hands shoved deep in his jean pockets, his sandy brown hair strewn over his forehead. If I didn't know any better, I would have been flattered. I'd seen him in school and have heard rumors about him and the way he'd move on from one girl to another without hesitation. If that wasn't enough for me not to like him, there was also the fact that Cedric, for some reason, didn't like Seth. “What?” I asked him. My throat felt dry, making me realize how long I’d been standing there. “I asked, do you play?” He nodded at the guitar. A small smile was playing across his lips, the smile that effectively made half the female population at our school swoon. The same smile that he used when he was hitting on another poor, pathetic girl. Was it possible that he was hitting on me? I had never really been under his radar, seeing as I was practically invisible at school. Not that I would complain. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Um, no.” I looked sideways, hoping he’d get the picture and leave when he figures out I wasn't interested. I doubted that he even knew we go to the same school. I saw him open his mouth to say something, but as if on cue, Cedric arrived, looking almost out of breath when he saw me. He eyed Seth coldly before dragging me away, leaving Seth standing there with the same cold look on his face. I tore my eyes away from Seth and looked back at Cedric. I was too relieved to see he was fine that I'd forgotten about being mad at him for being late. “Happy birthday,” I said. He glanced at me. My heart did this weird, little dance when I saw him look me over, checking me out— appreciating the fact that I dressed up. But the look on his face was replaced by something serious. My smile shifted into a slight frown. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he told me, his voice serious.

Famous PEN, are u for real, I noticed all Meshack Shaxee's stories have changed into your name. The thing I don't understand is if u r d same person. I'll appreciate it, if u reply.

Am still the same person as meshack dear!! Don't worry am using my writing name! Hope you like the new view... Stay update, and i hope you subscribe to our email to receive our updates!

*Continuation* “What is it?" I pushed past the lump in my throat and tried to push the queasy feeling in my stomach away. “Kyla." He ran his fingers through his hair and looked into my eyes before averting his gaze and taking a deep breath. "I think we should break up.” I blinked, shaking my head. "What?" The guitar felt heavier, the wind seemed colder, I suddenly felt so bare and exposed-- vulnerable. "I'm sorry," he said, looking down, his voice strained. “Break up?” I asked him, fumbling for the right words to say. "You're joking, right? Right?" He shook his head, ever so slightly. I felt as if all the air was knocked out of me, like somebody had just punched me in the gut. I was shaking my head, trying to make sense of whatever was happening. "What are you talking about? What--what's wrong?" I searched his face for any clue, but all I could see were his brown eyes, apologetic and pained. "Why?" He just shook his head, looking down. "I'm sorry." "We can--we can talk this out," I tried again, reaching for him, but he took a step back and pursed his lips together in a pained grimace. I felt like he had just slapped me. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it when I realized I couldn't. It was hard to summon my voice, impossible to find any words. I looked at him one last time, waiting for the punch line, waiting for him to take back what he just said, waiting fot anything. His eyes held mine for the longest time and it almost seemed like he was going to reach for me. But he just dropped his gaze and repeated the words "I'm sorry." My eyes started to water. I shook my head, taking quick, shallow breaths as I waited for something more, but nothing came. I took a step back, feeling as if somebody had just ripped my heart out. And the worst part was that it was Cedric who did it. I took another step back and before the tears could fall, I turned around and started to walk away, fighting the urge to run, hoping he would call me, ask me to stop and turn around. Hoping he'd catch up to me and stop me from leaving. I will not cry. I fought the tears from falling. I will not cry. When I walked by the juice bar, some guys who were hanging out there had whistled. I turned to them. One of them smiled while the rest stared. At me. I was being hit on. Again. When I looked back, Cedric was still there. What nerve, I thought. Showing up two hours late without explanation and breaking up with me. What freaking nerve. I wiped the unshed tears from my eyes, careful not to ruin my makeup. I knew Cedric was still watching me. I knew he was looking. That was probably why I stepped towards the juice bar and approached the guy who was smiling at me. “Enjoying the view?” I asked him. He looked me up and down before looking back into my eyes. “Very much so.” I looked at Cedric again, and I could see how surprised he was. I could see it, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. Was he hurting? Was he starting to regret his decision? Did he even care? I looked back at the the stranger in front of me. “I’d take that as a compliment,” I told him.

*Continuation* “You’re welcome. Want a drink?” he asked me. The guys almost automatically scooted to make space for me. When I realized what I was doing, I almost stepped back, wondering what on earth had gone into me. I would have left, pretending none of that ever happened, if I hadn't caught sight of my reflection on the glass surface of the Juice Bar's fridge. I looked different. I looked like I wasn't as broken outside as I was inside. So I looked at the guy again. “Why not?” That was the end of my relationship with Cedric. The guy from that night? He was my second kiss. With tongue. Which, to me, back then was pretty much screamed marriage and commitment. Of course it wasn’t. It was just a one-night make out session. In a juice bar. With all his friends there. With Cedric watching in the distance, frozen in shock. The name of that guy? I had no idea. Ironic, really, how the end was also somehow the beginning of something else. That was how I began plotting my revenge. That was how I began coming to the realization that in all this— I hated Cedric.

Chapter 2 Wow. Is there not a limit as to how much a guy could actually be such an egotistical, bigheaded, cocky jerk? Well, with Mr. I-Have- Nice-Biceps-Right? guy, I guess there isn’t. And frankly? He disgusted me to death. Especially since 1) he had absolitely no idea how drunk he was, 2) he wasxin love with his biceps, 3) and he practically wanted to kiss me the moment he saw me. He smiled at me. “Well, Karla—” “It’s Kyla,” I corrected him. He looked around the room. “Where?” he asked, and I fought the urge to slap him. He didn't even know my name. So as he looked around the room with all these swaying, sober, half-drunk, really drunk party people dancing to the lame Super Bass song, I tried my best not to hit Biceps Guy where it hurt. I could do that. I could kick him right there— he’d probably swear, most likely cause a big ruckus that would attract the attention of the room, and end up crying like the big baby he was—and I'd just act all childish-like and innocent, tell him I didn’t mean to, kiss him, and he’ll forget it. As easy as one-two- three. Fortunately, though, I didn’t do that. Not because I could actually control my temper (trust me, I have anger management issues), and especially not because I was nice and I didn’t want him to cry like a baby in the middle of a high school party where half the student body could see him. No. In fact, it was because of this: I didn’t want to end up kissing him. Period. I mean, did he even brush his teeth? Those yellow—yellow unidentified objects stuck to his gums were just repulsing. There was simply no way I would kiss him. So I stood up from his lap, where I somehow ended up five minutes ago when he pulled me down with him. “Where’re you going?” he asked me. I gave him my best look, batting my eyelashes at him, and bent down to whisper something into his ear. By the way his whole body tensed, I knew he was turned on. Way turned on. “So, I’ll just wait for you upstairs. I think the bedrooms are available,” he whispered back—huskily, I might add. While some people could be sexy with the whole husky voice, he simply sounded like a drunk pervert. “Sure. I’ll be there in a minute,” I said and winked at him. He jumped out of his seat, clearly excited. I sighed and watched as he disappeared into the crowd of dancing people, up the stairs, while I stood there and paused, before turning to the door to leave. The party was a dump. There were hardly any cute guys. And besides, Cedric wasn’t there, so what was the point? When I walked out the door, I never planned on staying back. I had no plans of going to the room where Biceps Guy, most likely undressed, would be waiting for me. No Cedric, no thanks. “Yo, Evans.” I looked to my side. Only one person ever called me that. Excluding my teachers, but I really didn't expect to find them standing in the middle of a high school party where students are getting drunk, getting laid, or getting silly. So despite the lack of light, I knew who it was. Seth Everett. “Need a drink?” he asked me. “Nah. I'm leaving,” I said and eyed the skanky girl draped all over him. By the way her lipstick was smudged, I was guessing they were in the middle of something. And by the way her blue eyes sent cold glares in my direction, it was a no- brainer that she did not like the interruption.

*continues* “Really.” Seth cocked his head to one side and smiled. In the darkness of the lawn, he seemed almost mysterious. “So you finally abandoned Biceps Guy.” I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” “Oh, you know. That guy with the yellow teeth and all.” Now I was impressed. He actually noticed that? “Yeah. I did. And why do you care?” I made myself sound flirty. Why not? After all, he was still talking to me. About Biceps Guy. Which meant he actually noticed me in the party while he was in the middle of a make out session with another girl. "I don’t,” he said, his head still cocked on that side. “Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker?” I laughed. “That, sweetheart, is the understatement of the century.” One corner of his mouth rose. “Ain’t that right.” And with that, I left. I wasn't really the heartless Dam I seemed like. If I was, I wouldn’t have stayed up all night after that party, thinking of all the things that could have gone differently had I not made Biceps Guy wait in vain. Thinking of that hollowness in the pit of my stomach because there I was again, with a guy whose name I didn't even know, a guy who wasn't Cedric. If I really didn’t have a heart, then why did it still hurt so badly whenever I thought of Cedric? I've tried. I've tried and tried, over and over again. But the truth was, I haven’t, not even once, moved on to forget about him. He was still there, in my mind, in my heart, in my existence. I might have easily walked away the night we broke up. I might have made out with a random guy on a juice bar, but that was just because I didn’t want to seem like the brokenhearted girl I knew I was. Because I wanted Cedric to walk to the juice bar to pry me off of that guy and take his words back. He didn't. No one, not a soul, saw me walk away from those guys in the juice bar that night to cry in the comfort room. No one saw me wipe my eyes as frantically as I could. And no one, not one of those guys, came to check in on me in the bathroom while I did. I don’t think anyone even noticed that I had already ran off. No one saw me break. I wanted it to stay that way. So a week after of our breakup, I promised I wouldn't cry over him again. I wouldn't let myself be weak again. I changed myself, covering my broken heart with some makeup and a new wardrobe. I started going to parties and flirted with other guys. At one point, Cedric began going to parties too, and that was when I started to make out with guys, making sure he was watching. Sometimes, though, the pain would hit me so hard I can't help but feel like everything was pressing down on me, missing him so badly it hurt. I missed holding his hand, I missed the feel of his arms around me, I missed the way he would always, always trace my lower lips with his thumb before leaning in to kiss me, I missed the smile that sent my heart skyrocketing to the moon. Like on nights like this, that pang of hurt would just come and all I could do is lie in the dark, in my room, buried under the covers of my bed, close my eyes, and think of him, him, him. --- “Heads up!” somebody yelled. I looked up, to see a football rocketing towards me. I dodged only a second too late and BAM! It hit me on the forehead and I almost fell back if somebody hadn’t caught me from behind.

*continues* “Hey, watch it!” came the voice from behind me, and I recognized it immediately. I looked up to see Seth Everett. He wasn’t looking at me, though. He was looking at whoever had thrown that football in my direction. To my surprise, it was Cedric. Cedric, who had never played football. At least not that I knew of. He ran towards me and I wanted to run off as far away as possible before he could actually get near, but I was rooted to the ground. Seth had a firm grip on my shoulders, and I would’ve have looked like he still affected me if I did run away. So I stayed there. Seth did not pick up the ball. Neither did I. So when he came, he picked it up and looked up at me. In the morning light, his brown eyes seemed amber and I realized, really, how tan he had become. It wasn't a deep tan, but it was enough for me to notice. I also noticed how much longer his black hair was. So he wasn’t just Football-Playing Cedric. I wondered, for a second, how much he had changed. “We’d appreciate it if you don’t try hitting people with your lousy throw,” Seth told him. I pursed my lips together, trying not to defend Cedric, not to spat at Seth for being such an Bottom. It was almost a reflex, for me to feel protective of him. So we stood there, Seth behind me with his arms on my shoulders, and Cedric in front of me, at arm’s length, in the middle of the grassy courtyard of the school. A lot of people passed us by, some going to the peach- colored building to my right, some going out, changing classes or having break. But in that moment, it felt like it was the just three of us. “I don’t have a lousy throw," Cedric said through gritted teeth before looking at me. “I'm sorry. Are you okay?” I heard the oh- so-slight, softening of his voice as he turned to me. I held my head high and stepped back until my back could feel the warmth of Seth’s chest. I made the gesture obvious, and even held one Seth’s hands on my shoulders. “I'm fine,” I said and smiled sweetly at him, “it was just a lousy throw after all, wasn’t it?” I cocked my head to the side, still smiling, thinking, Do you regret breaking up with me? Are you hurting? Are you jealous? But really, the only question that ever really mattered was— Will you take me back? “Of course,” he said. I was almost startled, wondering, if by some chance, he had answered my question with an “of course,” before realizing he couldn’t have heard the question. And he wouldn’t want me back anyway. Besides, I realized he was talking about his throw when he added, “I’ll work on it, and next time, I’ll try hitting you again to see if it improved.” "Why not?” I asked him, shrugging. “I’ll probably be twenty seven by then.” Seth snorted and Cedric’s face darkened. Seth slid his hand so that he was half- hugging me, one arm draped across my shoulder, as he let his other hand slip away. He put it in his pocket and looked at me. “Let's go.” The two of us went off, leaving Cedric standing there. Seth kept his arm over my shoulder, even as we walked into the school.

*continues* “So, catch you at lunch?” he asked me. I thought about it. Thought about the way Cedric used to rant about Seth. About the way Cedric hated him. I smiled. “Why not?” --- Oh my gosh! I can't believe somebody even read this! Thanks a lot and I'm so, so happy about everything! Thanks so much! Hope you enjoyed Chapter Two!

Tbabie itz easy!! Just use what you qat in you until you become an ultimate star non shining you will be!

Chapter 3 One thing was official: Seth Everett wanted me. I saw it in the way he kept casting glances at me all through lunch, in his barely there smiles and the way he cocks his head to the right when I talk. He wanted me, which is exactly what I needed at the moment. So when class ended the same day, I wasn’t surprised when he stopped and leaned on the locker next to mine. I was just depositing my stuff when the words “Missed me yet?” made me look up. “Everett,” I said, my voice dropping a tone lower—the voice I always used to keep a guy hooked—and leaned a little into him, “you’re the last thing I'd miss.” “Well, that can’t be right.” He cocked his head to the right and gave me his barely there smile. I almost rolled my eyes at him. He took a step closer, so that his lips were almost touching my ear, his breath tickling me a little. “You’re sure you didn’t miss me at all?” I pretended to think about it, squinting my eyes, then shrugged. “Pretty sure.” I gave him a smile, blinking slowly once, and slammed my locker shut. “See you around.” I walked ahead, leaving him rooted to that place. He laughed. “Aren’t you something.” I could feel him shift behind me. “Hah.” I turned around, and found him staring at me. “How so?” He shrugged. “Party at my house on Friday. See you there.” I laughed at his face. “You think I, Kyla Evans, would go to your party? I mean, who’re you? You’re just Seth Everett.” He raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Oh, so you’re not coming to my, ‘just’ Seth Everett’s, party?” I lifted a shoulder in response, and just like that, I flashed him one last smile before turning to walk away completely. I never knew Seth Everett was so easy. --- The music was too loud when I got to the party, some lousy rap music. Ugh. Could Seth have worse music preferences? I felt cold in my blouse and skirt. I think my boots were the only things I'd worn that actually offered some warmth, so at least my feet weren’t cold. But seriously? Some gentleman offering me his jacket would probably make me love him for life at the moment. Looking around from the lawn, I surveyed the people, looking for signs of Cedric. Of course, though, he wasn’t here. I mean, he couldn’t be in Seth’s party. I still had no idea why he hates Seth, but I was pretty sure he’d never come to his party. And the thing is, I wasn’t even supposed to come, exactly because of that reason. Because Cedric won’t be coming, there was simply no reason for me to show up. But somehow, I found myself going anyway, because if Seth wanted me, then I better be sure he’d keep wanting me. And maybe… just maybe, I was a little intrigued with whatever he had up his sleeves. I hovered by the entrance, though, partly unsure whether this was actually a good idea or not. But hey, I was already there, so I realized I should just get on with this. “You’re late.” The whisper was directly in my ear and I instinctively cringed away. I didn’t know whether or not guys knew this, but my ears were ticklish. I turned to see Seth, he was smiling weirdly at me. “Are you freaking kidding me? Your ears are ticklish?” Shoot me now. I forced a smile out. “You better not use that against me someday.

*continues* He laughed, the sound deep and somehow able to stand out against the loud music and shouting and noise. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” He shrugged before sending me a glance. “Not yet.” I groaned, and it must have been half-true. Ticklish parts are like weaknesses. I’ve had enough with living a life full of weaknesses, so I wasn’t comfortable with the fact that Seth —or any other person for that matter—knew about my ticklish ears. I know this probably doesn’t matter to others, but it does to me. “So." He said, leaning me through the crowd. "You look great.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve probably said that to every girl you’re trying to seduce, which, probably, means pretty much every girl here.” He laughed. “Okay, ouch. You make me sound like a manwhore.” “You said that yourself.” I smiled at him. “But anyways, care to tell me something original this time? Something you haven’t told anyone else yet?” “Something I’ve never told anyone else yet…” He thought—or at least seemed to have— about it before saying, “You should smile more. Makes you look angelic.” My smile faltered for a second, together with my façade. I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “But of course, with so many hearts you’ve broken so far—you probably aren’t that angelic,” he quickly added. I was thankful that he did, because it helped me recover from my trance. “You don’t know that,” I said, “I’m actually really angelic.” “I bet you are.” He nodded. That was when it happened. It might have been some spilled beer or a foot or a wire or something—it could have been anything, really—but the next thing I knew, I was falling down, the floor coming closer and closer. But he grabbed my hand just in time, pulled me up and locking me in his embrace instead. He pulled back, giving just enough space for us to look at each other. “Whoa. Hey. You okay?” I blinked, trying to compose myself. "Perfectly fine." “Okay.” When he released me, I knew my cheeks were flushed because of my near- falling-down-the-floor- and-making-a-fool-of- myself experience. “So, how about some drinks?” Thinking about beer and the fact that I was supposed to drive home, I bit my lower lip. Maybe I could take a cup or something, just so he can’t say I'm a bore, but I wouldn’t really drink it. “Are you driving home?” he asked me. “Sort of,” I replied. “But maybe I can get a cup or—” “No.” His voice was hard. Firm. Completely different from his usual breezy, cool self. I couldn't help but flinch back, surprised. “I have some non-alcoholic drinks somewhere. You can have those tonight.” And just like that, he was back. He hadn’t apologized for the sudden change, the sudden harshness. He hadn’t even acknowledged it. It was if it never happened. So Seth Everett had secrets too. Somehow, this surprised me a lot. “Come on. The drinks are by the counter.” I followed suit. “I knew you would come,” he told me over the music as we made our way through the crowd.

*continues* “Really.” He nodded. “The girls always come.” I snorted. “Of course that’s what you think. I'm only here because I'm meeting someone,” I tried, sizing his reaction up. “Let me guess. By someone, you mean the usual make-out.” He cocked his head to the side. “No.” I smiled at him, the smile I’ve always used when my prey was exactly at that point. I stepped closer to him, pressing my body against his. "But I guess you're good enough.” What the freaking hell was wrong with me? Cedric wasn’t here, so why did I make such a move? Damn it. Unlike any other guy, however, he didn’t have the reaction I expected. He wasn’t turned on, he wasn’t even partly seduced. He laughed. Laughed. I was practically shouting Let’s freaking get to third base! but there he was, laughing. “What?” I stepped back, offended and embarrassed. Shit, shit, shit. I should never have done that. Cedric wasn't even here in the first place. Damn it. That never happened before. I was blushing from the rejection. “Oh, Evans, it’s your turn to tell me something you don’t usually say.” He flashed his smirk. “You made me do it.” I scowled at him. “I don’t say that to other guys at all!” I whined— which was a big mistake, partly because I sounded stupid and because it only made him chuckle again. “Come on. Say something different.” I pressed my lips together. “See?” he asked me. “Aren’t you more of a player than I am? You can’t even think of a line you haven’t told another guy yet—” “I'm a virgin.” I looked straight into his eyes, daring him, challenging him. “There. I haven’t told anybody else about that, and it also proves I am so much better than Seth Everett, you sex-crazed guy.” “Okay. Whoa.” He let out a sharp breath. “You’re a virgin?” He looked so surprised that I swear I could have taken a picture. “Holy shit, Evans. You’re a freaking vir—” “Okay, shut up.” I covered his mouth quickly. “My virginity isn’t exactly a secret, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you shouting it out to the whole student body.” He blinked. “Why have I never known this before? If this isn’t a secret, I swear I would have known about this.” “It’s not a secret. Nobody just asks me.” I shrugged. “So it basically never came up. People assume things, Everett. Most times? Those assumptions are really just messed up. Everyone thinks I sleep around. What do they know?” He let out a soft whistle. “Hot damn, Evans.” He shook his head, smiling almost to himself as he scratched the back of his neck. “At this rate, I can’t really assure you your virginity.” My mouth dropped open, but I was smiling. “What makes you think I’m ever going to do it with you, of all people? I love myself, I don’t want to get an STD from you.” He laughed. “I do not have an STD.” “Oh, but that’s only what you think,” I said, “do you really know?” “You better shut it. Right now, I'm torn between wanting to get myself checked and wanting to spend the rest of the night with you.” I raised my eyebrows at this and he matched it with a smirk. “In the most innocent way possible.”

*continues* “And the most innocent way possible there is is…?” “Just this.” He made a vague gesture wuth his hand. “Hanging around.” I almost laughed at him. I never knew he could be so lame. Who, in their right minds, would just hang out, nothing more? But at least I didn’t have to make out with him—or with anyone for that matter. I didn’t like making out with other people if Cedric wasn’t around. This, just “hanging out,” was actually a good thing for the night. So I played along. “Well, I’m yours for the night,” I said, opening my arms in a gesture that said I’m all yours. I leaned closer and in a lower voice, I said, “In the most innocent way possible.” He tensed, pupils dilating. I knew I finally succeeded in seducing the school’s player. Satisfied, I walked ahead of him and asked him with the most innocent smile I could come up with, “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s hang out.” “Damn it,” he said. “How can you look so... innocent and be so brutal?” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “It’s a gift.” We finally reached the bar and counter, and he handed me my drink. He got himself a beer and we just hung out for a while. I was actually, and surprisingly, having a good time when the most unexpected thing happened. Something that was enough to suddenly have all my walls up in a split- second. Cedric showed up. ---

I wonder why u keep changing ur names o @Shaxee.... Pls continue

Chapter 4 You know those moments when everything was going fine—when you were actually having a good time, then all of a sudden this person comes and everything is ruined? Well, that’s what happened to me. I turned to Seth, who was still telling me something with a smile on his face. “Right?” he finished, turning to me. I returned his smile with my best one, “Absolutely,” I agreed, although I didn’t know what in the world he was talking about. I looked over at Cedric, eyeing him tentatively. He was seated on one corner, alone, checking his watch. Turning back to Seth, I looked for a way to get some things started. So I said, “I better get going.” “What, why?” I laughed. “Well, it’s getting late.” “It’s freaking nine o’clock.” “And I have a freaking strict Mom." A lie. He was shaking his head, chuckling. "Don't we all do." I eyed Cedric again, who was now staring at me, mouth agape. Finally. I made a motion of taking one step, two— Before deliberately slipping and landing on Seth’s lap. It was my first time trying this move, but at least it worked without me losing a tooth or actually falling down the floor. Giggling, I let out an, “Oops. I slipped.” He placed his hands on my waist. “Do you always fall?” he asked me, his breath grazing my face. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I…” I had my face close to his, then apparently backed away just as he was about to kiss me. I stood up from his lap, and I got back on my seat. “Should I stay?” I asked him, my voice dropping a tone lower, as it usually does when it comes to this time. “Absolutely,” he replied. I took another drink— non-alcoholic, of course —and let the silence hang in the air. He was just staring at me, and I knew he wanted me. With Cedric here now, it was completely okay for him to make his move now. Almost as if he had read my thoughts, he did. He rested his hand on one of my thighs, somehow managing to come closer within less than seconds. He practically pulled me right on his lap again. His lips were dangerously close to my ears as he whispered, “Let’s go somewhere else.” Hoping I didn’t look disgusted, I turned to him and twined my fingers at the back of his neck, smiling at him. “Why not?” I asked him. He buried his face in my neck, kissing me. I closed my eyes and pulled him closer, even though all I wanted to do was push him off. I looked at that dark corner of the room, seeing Cedric, and smiling in triumph to myself as his figure walked closer, closer, closer to us. The hand on my thigh seemed to have traveled up it, slipping right under my skirt, and his other hand started to travel up my stomach, under my blouse, lips still on my neck. A finger started to slip under the wire of my bra, then two. But then before I knew it, someone was yanking me off of Seth. I looked up and saw Cedric glaring darkly at me. “That’s enough,” he said. “Goddammit! What the hell are you doing, Kyla?” Seth stood up. “Hey, man. We were busy.” Cedric glared at him. “Hey, man. Now you’re not.” And he pulled me away.

*continues* “What the hell?” I pulled my arm from Cedric’s grip. I turned to face him. “What do you want?” He looked at me and had the sense to avert his gaze sheepishly. “What are you doing, Kyla?” I gave him my best innocent look. “What was I doing?” “Damn it,” he cursed. Cedric hardly ever cursed back then. I guess some things change a lot. His eyes looked solid black in the dim light, his gaze hard on me. Out here in the front lawn, it felt like the party was so far away. With Cedric standing right before me, it felt as if none of the past few months had happened. Yeah, right. This guy broke your heart, Kyla. Actually, scratch that. This guy broke you. “Cedric.” Slightly pouting my lips, I stepped closer to him. “Did you bring me out here because you want to make out too? Because if you did, we can after a quick trip to a room upstairs with Seth,” I said, batting my lashes at him. “Oh, right! My bad. I already agreed to, you know, have fun with Michael.” His jaw hardened. I stepped away. “How about after Michael? Still want to give it a go?” I asked him. “Kyla.” His voice broke. I stopped. Suddenly, all my bravado was gone. That little falter in his voice made my knees go weak and I couldn’t make myself step away. “What happened?” he asked me. “You know. With you.” As my eyes began to water, I looked at him sharply. “What happened with me? You’re asking me?” “Kyla, you’re… you’re not this person. You wear sweatshirts, your hair was always a tangle of tumbleweed, you… you used to be my best friend.” I scoffed. “I was that person, Cedric. Not anymore.” “Stop doing this. You…” He tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Stop sleeping around. Stay away from Seth.” “You can’t tell me what to do, Cedric.” I forced myself to smile. “Now, what do you say? Still want to hang out after I'm done with Michael?” He stared intently at me and I didn’t look away. Finally, his jaw slackened and he dropped his gaze. “What happened, Kyla?” he asked me again. I bit my lower lip, shrugged, and replied, “You did.” --- “Evans.” I flinched, hearing Seth’s voice behind me. It’s been minutes since my talk with Cedric. I stayed outside, at the garden, not finding any motivation to go back to the party. Right now, the last thing I needed was to talk to Seth. “So I heard you and I were just about to have quick trip upstairs?” He walked to the spot in front of me. My eyes snapped to meet his. "You were listening?" He grinned. “I followed you guys out, found you talking, heard what you said.” He shrugged. Oh, god. What if he really took me seriously? I mean, I just said that because of Cedric. I didn't really mean it. “So.” He slipped his hands in his pockets. “Can I have a guess?” The question took me by surprise. “Um, what?” “A guess,” he repeated.

*continues* A little unsurely, I nodded. “You’re just trying to get back at Cedric, aren’t you?” He stepped closer. My eyes widened. “What?” How did he know? Stunned, I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. “From what I can see, you’re only doing this because of that guy,” he said. “Drop the façade, Evans.” I blinked, almost involuntarily stepping back. “You’re only making out with guys because you want to make Cedric jealous. It makes sense. You’ve never slept with anyone and you make up lies in a second. I mean, Michael? Who the hell is Michael?” Clearing my throat, I looked away. “I don’t know what happened, but if we’re talking about getting back at that guy…” There was a pause before he continued, “I'm in.” “What?” He smirked at me. “I’ll help. You won’t have to hook up with other guys, you don’t have to pretend all the time, and you know that guy hates me.” I blinked, still surprised with the sudden turn of events. "So? What do you say?” Speechless, I just gaped at him. Was he actually proposing a fake relationship? With me? “Why would you be willing to help?” I asked him. He smiled. “Why not?” I thought about it. It would definitely make my life easier. “Until when?”I asked him. “How long will we…” I trailed off, not knowing what to actually call us. “As long as it needs for you to get your goal, whatever it may be.” My goal. I haven’t really thought about that. I mean, was I doing this to make him ask me back? Or was I simply doing this because I wanted to hurt him, nothing more? I didn’t really have a goal in mind. “Everything will be easier, Evans. We’ll pretend we’re going out. No more crazy random guys with yellow teeth. I mean, that has to be something, right? I’ll ‘go out’ with you… on one condition.” “And that is?” “Be yourself.” I must have looked really confused by then, because thar was exaclt how I was feeling. It didn't make any sense at all. "Are you serious?" “Drop the act and show me the real Kyla Evans," he said, "That's all." I had to think it through. But who was I kidding? Honestly, everything would definitely be easier with this. Besides, wasn’t this my plan to begin with? Use Seth to make Cedric jealous? Seth was just offering to make it much, much better. So I said, “Fine.” He nodded. “Hi, Kyla Evans. I'm Seth.” He offered his hand for a handshake. Be yourself. I rolled my eyes and took two steps backwards, away from him. “Uh, yeah. As much as possible, can we please not touch? I mean, I don’t want to touch your hand, which probably touched lots of... other stuff.” He started to laugh. “Now that’s Kyla Evans, huh?” I scowled. “I'm serious.” “Five minutes ago, these hands were under your—” “Stop! Can we not?” I hissed. “You know that was only because Cedric was there. You want to meet the real me, then fine. Hi, I'm Kyla Evans. I think you’re a scumbag for sleeping with random girls and please, please don’t get into my Anti-Seth zone, which has a one-meter radius around me when nobody’s around. Thank you very much.”

*continues* Shaking his head, he laughed. “Now that”— he pointed at me —“hurt.” “But this is me,” I said. “So, do you still want to do this?” Smirking, he replied, “You just made it much more exciting, Kyla.” -- HEEEEEEEEY! I've been really busy! Seriously. I never have time to write these days! I barely get free time. -.- I know this came waaaaaaay late, but here! I hope you guys like it. If anyone will even read it again.

Sorry to disappoint, we are actually following. D story is really interesting but I really wish u would post 'the girl he never noticed' faster. U r one terrific writer dude nd I know u r going places.

Chapter 5 I never thought it would ever turn out that way. Never in my life had I ever thought that I would end up striking a deal with Seth Everett. It was still bothering me, even though I knew I should just be relieved that I don’t have to pretend that I really like him. At least it made things easier. I stared hard at my cell phone screen, glaring at the four letters that continued to mock me. Seth. When did I ever get to exchanging numbers with Everett? Oh, right. Ever since he saw through my façade and decided that we should work together. I never knew I was actually as see-through as that. Just as I was about to leave my bedroom and toss my now cursed- with-Seth’s number phone, it rang. It was, of course, Seth. Almost grudgingly, I answered it. “Hello?” “Hey, Evans!” He greeted me, his voice uncharacteristically cheerful. Suspicious. “You seem pretty happy. Did you have a three-some or something?” I accused him. Maybe he would think I'm saying this just because. But the truth was, I was pretty nervous talking to him as the real me, and I just didn't want to appear like that way to him. I know it should be the other way around. I should be tired from pretending to be someone I'm not, but when you get used to wearing a mask, it gets harder to show people the real you. “No,” Seth replied, still sounding entirely too jovial. “And seriously? Is that really the way a girl should speak to guys? I mean, do normal girls even say three-some?” “Why did you call?” I ignored him, knowing it would only lead to other arguments that would, also, eventually lead to nowhere. He cleared his throat. “Well… we should launch our first plan.” My eyebrows furrowed at this. Yes, I knew he couldn't see this not-so- attractive skeptical expression on my face over the phone, but I couldn’t help my facial muscles from scrunching up this way. I mean, plans? He needs plans? Shouldn’t we, like, just make out when Cedric is around? “Um, plans. Yeah, sure,” I answered, sarcasm lacing in my voice. He decided to ignore this and instead said, “So, what do you think would stir enough things in school?” I blinked. “What?” “The school, Evans. I was thinking, if we wanted to make this work, we should do something that wouldn't happen normally. I mean, people think you sleep around with random guys”— “I don’t sleep around with—” —“and, people think I do, too. So if we’re seen together, the student body, including Cedric, will think it’s just normal. The two players are bound to end up having something someday, right?” As he explained it, I actually agreed with him. Not that I would give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I mean, his head was big as it is. I didn't thnk it was really advisable to make him feel even better about himself. “So, I was thinking, what would surprise the student body?” I almost answered, but then I realized it was a rhetorical question. He already had an answer for it. “We,” he continued, “should end up as a couple. Not just the usual make out or something, but as the It Couple or whatever.” I bit my lower lip as I tried to process this. “I mean, what is the most unexpected thing I would ever do?” This, of course, was another rhetorical question, because I was just opening my mouth when the words came pouring from his over the line. Damn guy. “Court a girl. Seth Everett would never court a girl.”

*continues* Well, I gotta admit that this guy was actually making sense. “So,” I said, before he could come up with another rhetorical question. “You’re going to court me and I will play hard to get?” “That’s pretty much the first plan.” I couldn’t help the grin that slowly widened on my face. I might have looked creepy with that grin, but I didn't care. “Not that I think it’s suspicious or anything”—Yes, I do think it is suspicious —“but why are you so willing to do this?” He chuckled. The sound, even over the phone, sent chills down my spine. “I have my reasons,” he replied. “Now, see you tomorrow?” “Okay,” I said. It was weird, agreeing to something like that with Seth Everett. I never pictured myself talking over the phone with him on a Sunday night. Him and me? We were, like, impossible. Because of Cedric. But now that Cedric and I, well… ended up this way, I guess it wasn't really too impossible anymore. “This should be fun, Evans,” he said before saying goodbye and hanging up. I, though, was seriously considering otherwise. --- “Kyla, honey. I won’t be home till late. Lock up, okay?” I gripped the house phone so firmly that I was sure my knuckles were turning white. “Okay." “Be sure to eat dinner, ‘kay?” Even as she said the words, I could hear some shifting and movement. I knew she was only saying pre- recorded words. Only saying them because she’s supposed to say them. But I knew that they weren’t anything more than that. They will only be questions that should be asked, not really meant. “Okay. Well, I have to go.” Some laughter rose in the background. Before I could even say good bye, Mom already hung up on me. I tried not to let this put me in a bad mood, but as I looked at the cut on my left ring index finger, I couldn’t help but feel my eyes water. I can’t believe I cooked Mom’s favorite pork chops—nearly cutting off my index finger in the process—for nothing. The smell of the pork chops filled the house and I was suddenly consumed by rage. I can’t believe I nearly lost a finger because of those stupid pork chops. I can’t believe Mom wasn’t even going to eat them. I can’t believe she hung up on me that way. I can’t believe she’s not coming home for tonight. Quickly wiping my tears before they even had a chance to fall, I stalked back into my bedroom, suddenly not hungry anymore. I should have probably gotten used to this over the years, but back then, when I had Cedric as my best friend, and especially when he was my boyfriend, I almost didn’t notice this loneliness. Without him, it was so hard to ignore the hollowness in I'd always felt when Mom didn't come home. Grabbing a book from my shelf (one I haven’t finished yet—The Comeback Season by Jennifer E. Smith), I settled on my bed and opened it on the page with my floral-designed bookmark. I haven’t even started reading when my phone rang. I checked the caller I.D. Seth? Seriously? What would he want?

*continues* Completely suspicious, I answered reluctantly. “Hey. What’s up?” “I just wanted to ask you something,” he said, straight to the task at hand without even a greeting or whatever. “Make it quick,” I said, itching to start reading The Comeback Season already. “Well, um, uhh.” I rolled my eyes. “Seth, how did you manage to reach high school with that vocabulary?” I could almost see him stare darkly at me, his eyes probably squinting to glare at me. “Fine. Well, I just wanted to know if you like the color red.” The color red? Seriously? Could he be any more random than this? “What the hell are you up to?” There was a cheerful undertone in his voice as he said, “Do you like red or not?” “Why is this suddenly important to you?” I inquired, still not fully believing that this was anything close to an innocent question. I mean, seriously. What kind of person would call a girl at seven to ask what she thinks about the color red?" “Do you like it?” he repeated. Stubborn bastard. Not wanting to go through fifty more Do you like its, I just decided to answer him. “No, I don’t. As a matter of fact, I hate red.” “Perfect,” he muttered. “Okay, that’s all. See ‘ya!” “Hey—wait—what—” I stammered out but before I could finish whatever I was saying, he already hung up on me. Mental. He’s completely mental. I tossed my phone on the bed and for a moment, I wondered what that was all about before finally looking down at Comeback Season. --- When I entered the cafeteria the next day, I don’t know what surprised me most: The fact that North Crest High was actually serving steak for lunch, the surprising appearance of Ronald Stolowitzski in the cafeteria (the jocks usually lock him up in the bathroom during lunchtime and this is the first time I saw him having lunch in the cafeteria), or the twenty or so balloons that obscured my vision when I entered. The balloons were held securely by none other than Seth. He grinned. It hit me then, what he was trying to do. This was his first plan to show the students that he’s courting me? A gazillion fan-freaking- tastic red balloons? No wonder he was asking me about red last night. And I knew he did it purposely to annoy me —using red instead of another color. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have said “perfect” when I admitted my unexplained hatred for red. Everyone in the cafeteria sent us wide- eyed stares and open- mouthed faces. They obviously knew that this was big news. Seth Everett was just too popular not to make everyone stare. Even Ronald Stolowitzski, who always hung his head low to avoid other people, was staring openly at us. Not that I could blame them. I, too, was surprised. I mean, I know he said he would “court” me, but I never thought he’d do extravagant stuff like this. He prompted the balloons closer to me. Grudgingly, I accepted them, smiling sickly sweet at him even though my eyes were sending him one message only: I'm going to effing kill you. With my right hand, I clutched the balloons tightly. “Kyla Evans… will you please go out with me Saturday night?” he asked me. His voice was just normal, really. Not loud, not quiet. Just normal. But he didn’t have to yell anyway. Everyone was staring silently as they watched us.

*continues* Nosy idiots. “Um… say something?” he offered. Say something, Kyla.This should be no sweat at all, acting this way. This should be easy. Finally, I gave him a sickly sweet smile. “That’s really sweet and flattering, err… what is your name again?” His expression was perfectly appalled. He was a better actor than I had expected. With his mouth hanging open like that, one could seriously not tell that this was all an act. “It’s Seth,” he said. “Seth Everett?” “Oh, right. Silly me.” I giggled. “Like I’ve said, this is really… sweet, Seth…” “B-but…?” “I don’t go on dates,” I said. “I'm just not that kind of person.” “Are you kidding?” Oh, god. His expression was seriously perfect. You honestly couldn't tell that he was acting. “You don’t go on dates? Even if it’s, umm, hello? It’s Seth Everett asking you,” he said. I shrugged. “I'm really sorry, Seth.” The whole cafeteria was silent, waiting for Seth’s reaction. He was never rejected before. And now, here he was. Finally, Seth said, “Okay. Um, let me know if you change your mind.” “Sure, Seth,” I said. With one final nod, he walked away. It took five minutes before the cafeteria went back to its usual bustling and chattering, and even then, the conversations were nostly about us. Outside the cafeteria where no one could see us, it took Seth and me fifteen minutes to stop laughing. “Did you see their faces?” he asked me. “Seriously.” I nodded, laughing. “Yeah. They were, like, really, really surprised.” “Well, it’s not every day that I get rejected,” he said, shrugging afterwards. “Oh, well, I should go back in. I haven’t eaten yet.” “Wait, Everett.” “Uh-huh?” I licked my lips, not sure if I should ask him or not. He stared at me with a curious expression. Finally, I said, “No one can act that good unless you’re living a life like mine— unless you’re living an act.” His jaw hardened. I immediately regretted saying anything at all. Now everything was just awkward and I wanted to back to both of us laughing just a while ago. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I ever said anything.” I backed off a little. Seth grabbed me by my forearm, stopping me. “Yeah, well, you’ll be surprised to see just how many people are living an act,” he said. “Not everyone could see through the masks, Evans.” “So where’s the real Seth, then?” I asked him. “I mean, you’re asking me to show the real me, and now, here you are with a stupid mask as well.” He let go of my hand and shrugged. “You just have to find him.” Before I could say anything else, he was already walking back to the cafeteria. It surprised me to think that there was more to Seth Everett than just his looks and reputation. It made me wonder why Cedric hated him.

*continues* Oh, god. What mess had I gotten myself into? --- Hey guys! That's Chapter Five. :D I wanted to add some depth to the story before I make it more humorous and fun. I just love adding a little dimension to the story. Hahaha. :D And oooooh, what do you think is up with Seth? Mysterieeeeeees! Hopefully, the next chapter would be funnier. Hope you liked this. :)

Great work

I love this story pls keep updating

Chapter 6 I used to believe in fairy tales. Magic, for me, was something constant in this world, propelled by different moments strung together. Like two people meeting each other, exchanging conversations and making different situations into memories, until they fall in love. This used to be something I believed in. I wouldn’t say that this sort of magic is nonexistent. I know that people meet and fall in love. As a matter of fact, I still believe in this. I still believe that people end up together. What really changed was the fact that this time, I don’t simply think that it will end there. Now, I know that people are bound to fall out of love as well. If you asked me months ago, I would have believed that the seven year-old girl who tripped as she walked down the aisle while trying to scatter the flower petals would end up falling in love with her partner. When her partner reached out to help her out, I had no doubt that he will be a part of that girl’s life forever. Now, though, I’ve seen that the boy isn’t meant to stick around; that he will walk away some time in the future and break an unspoken promise between them. Now, I know that Cedric isn’t meant to stick around. --- “Sorry, Seth. But… I’m not really up for, err… bungee jumping,” I said, uncertainty laced with my voice. Seth had, once again, asked me out during lunch. He even climbed atop a table and shouted out to make things more public. Seriously. He grabbed every chance to take everything to the next level. The people from all over the cafeteria spoke in murmurs as they watched him standing above everyone else, looking directly at me as I, once again, rejected him. “Err, we could… try a picnic. Or something,” he said. “If you’re not, you know, up to extreme stuff.” Now trust me, I didn’t really mean for things to end this way, and it was one of those they- happen-too-fast-you- can’t-even-react moments, as someone from the crowd yelled. “What the hell are you doing, Everett?” Everyone turned to look at the intruder. I stood there frozen as I stared at Cedric. Seth smiled innocently at him. “Aw, you know. Just me trying to win Kyla over.” Cedric laughed this rude, half-laugh that was clearly meant to mock Seth. I hardened my jaw and looked over at Seth, expecting to see his features darken as Cedric laughed. I was surprised to find him looking relaxed as ever, clearly unaffected by the turn of events. In fact, I could easily say that he was amused. “Don’t expect much, Everett,” Cedric said, looking at me, his gaze softening. He was still looking at me when he continued, although the words were meant for Seth. “You don’t stand a chance. You don’t deserve Kyla.” Seth raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth tilting up. “I don’t, do I? And I guess you think you deserve her?” “Don’t start,” Cedric warned. “I’m just saying. Kyla will never agree to—” “Kyla,” I cut him off sharply, “is standing right here. And as far as I know, you don’t make my decisions for me.” I glared at Cedric and gave Seth my best smile. “As a matter of fact, I was about to agree with Seth! Who doesn’t love picnics?” Cedric flushed, his head snapping in Seth’s direction before looking at me again to say, “Kyla. Don’t—” “What?” I challenged.

*continues* “You know him,” he said, the word him coming out like an insult. “He will only break your heart.” “Oh, that’s funny. I thought that was your job,” I said and turned away completely, dismissing him as I held a hand out for Seth. “Come on.” I plastered a smile on my face, my lower lip quivering in the effort. Seth didn’t miss a beat. He took my hand without a question and even without telling him anything, he knew what I needed most at the moment. He didn’t look back as he led me out of the cafeteria, his hand guiding me all the way. As soon as we got out, a strangled sob managed to make its way out my throat. Seth’s hand tightened around mine as he pulled me into an empty corridor. He stood in front of me and held my face im his hands, as if checking for any signs of injury. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?” I took three calming breaths, refusing to let out another sob, another weakness to show. “He sucks.” “I know.” “He has no fucking right,” I said, my breathing starting to go haywire once again. “I know.” “He thinks he knows me so well, but he doesn’t,” my voice broke at the last word. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “He thinks—he thinks —” Another sob pushed its way out of my throat and I didn’t care that I sounded so helpless, so weak. “He told me he loved me, and I really thought he did, but—” Seth tilted my chin up so he could meet my gaze. His blue eyes were firm on mine as he said, “It’s okay,” he said, “it’s okay. And you’re going to be okay. And we’ll make him pay, all right?” I swallowed and nodded, trying not to cry, even as my eyes started to water. “I don’t know what he wants,” he told me, “I don’t know if he wants you back, or if he just doesn’t want you with me, or if it’s just his ego. But that doesn’t matter, Kyla. What do you want?” If he wants you back. The words sent a tingling down my spine. But not because I wanted them to be true. It was because I wanted to hurt him, more than he could ever hurt me. So I looked at Seth and said, “I want payback.” “Okay.” He ruffled my hair, not unlike to a master’s gesture for a dog. I was about to say something about this, but then he was smiling and his blue eyes were so blue and his face was so near and his smile was so real. It made me stop. “By the way? Nicely done,” he said. “You handled him pretty well.” “Yeah, right,” I said, looking away because I suddenly felt awkward about the whole thing. He seemed completely unfazed. “See how that ended up, with me crying in an empty corridor.” He grinned. “Well, we could work on that.” He stepped away and made an After You gesture with his hand. I started to walk and after two steps, he said, “By the way…” I turned to look at him and said, “Uh huh?” A smirk. And then the words, “A picnic, huh?” -- I remember a time when I wasn’t so alone. I had Cedric and I had Hail. Hail, who became my best friend the moment we figured out that we were so similar back in seventh grade. And I guess sometimes, I do miss having someone I can talk to. When Cedric and I broke up, and I “changed,” Hail walked away from me.

*continues* So imagine how awkward it was when I bumped into Hail at the convenience store. Her blonde hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head, her glasses perched on her little nose. She was wearing a sweater dress with leggings. The sleeves were a little too long for her, but she had always pulled this look off perfectly. “Oh, hey. Sorry,” I said. She looked away and nodded. “Yeah, sure.” I stood there, waiting for her next move. She didn’t take a step immediately, looking hesitant as she looked at me. Finally, she heaved a sigh and said, “I’ve been hearing about Seth.” I looked down. “Yeah, well—” “Cedric seems mad,” she said. Her vocabulary had always been careful, not tainted by this generation’s free curses and stuff. I would have said the word pissed instead of mad, but not Hail. “What right does he have to feel mad?” I replied, looking down. She looked me straight in the eye. Her green eyes were searching mine behind her glasses. “Well, he could be mad because the Kyla he knows is slipping away.” “The Kyla he knows would still be here if he hadn't broken my heart in the first place,” I said. “And, the Kyla he knows would still be here if her best friend didn’t suddenly walk away from her.” I could tell I struck a nerve, with the way she flinched a little, but then she leveled her gaze with mine and said, “I didn’t walk away,” she said. “You were the one who suddenly left.” “You could have followed me,” I said. “You were changing too fast.” She shook her head. “I tried, Kyla. I really did. I know how hard it could have been for you, so I tried. But there’s no place for a nerd in those parties.” I looked down. “You could have tried harder.” “You could have stopped to wait for me,” she shot back. I didn’t have an answer for that. “I gotta go,” she murmured and pushed past me, leaving me standing there alone. I was tempted to tell her to wait, but I didn’t. Without so much as a glance in her direction, I started to walk too. --- “What are you doing here?” I asked, eyes wide. The moment I got out of my car, I knew something was wrong. I sensed it even before I saw him. “What the hell are you doing here?” Seth Everett blinked thrice, his eyes unfocused as he looked at me. A slow grin spread across his face and he stood up unsteadily. “Kyla!” I took a step back. What the hell? I haven’t even entered our house and Seth was already here to bother me? And moreover, was he actually drunk or high or something? The smile on his face was completely different to his half- smiles and smirks. The smell of liquor invaded my nose as he took a staggering step towards me. “Why are you here?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest. He grinned. “To sleep.” Well, damn.

Chapter 7 It was one thing to deal with Seth Everett at school. Or even at parties. Those moments, I could deal with. But when he suddenly shows up at my house in the middle of the night and is actually very, very drunk, I have no idea what to do. “How did you know my house?” I asked him. “And what are you doing here?” He smiled and blinked. “I know everything.” “Go away. Go away now,” I said. “Call your girlfriend or something and just be done with it.” I eyed our house warily, making sure my mother wasn’t home. She wasn’t. Not that that’s a surprise. I looked at Seth again, who was now looking at the sky with his head tilted in an angle that I swear must be uncomfortable. “So many staaaaars,” he said. “Seth, you really have to go now. I don’t want to deal with you at the moment, especially like this.” He looked at me straight in the eye and blinked solemnly. “But I don’t have anywhere to go.” “Go home,” I said. And he looked down, saying, “Exactly.” “What? Seth, you have a home and—” “I have a house,” he said, “not a home.” He smiled childishly at me before looking up at the stars again. He was drunk, I knew that. But I also knew that something about his words were rang true. A house, not a home. It made me wonder why, exactly, Seth was drunk. As far as I knew, this guy could hold his alcohol. He never drinks anything more than he can manage. Just what was his problem, for him to get so intoxicated? As anyone could obviously point out, this was completely out of his character. "Seth,” I said. “What do you mean you have no home?” “Mom doesn’t want me there,” he said, looking so much like a wounded child. I would have asked him about it, but then I didn’t, deciding to shut my mouth and instead I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” “Oooh.” He didn’t object as we made our way towards the front door. I turned the lights on and closed the door behind us as we entered. He staggered towards the couch, nearly knocking off a vase before he got seated. I was only quick enough to catch it. Immediately, I dialed Mom. I let it ring for a while, but there was no answer. I called a few more times, letting it ring until I get tired and decide to just call again. She didn’t answer until the fifth call. “Mom?” I said. “Oh, hi Kyla. What is it?” “What time are you coming home?” A pause. I heard laughter from the other side of the line. She wasn’t alone and she was having fun. My grip tightened on the phone. “I won’t be home until late, Kyla.” “What time?” I pressed firmly, not letting her get away that easily. “You don’t have to wait for me—” “What time?” “I’ll come home tomorrow,” she said. “Morning, maybe around seven…” If she said anything more than that, I wouldn’t know, because I’d already hung up on her. I set my phone down and went back to Seth, who was now holding a picture frame. It was a picture of me and my mom.

*continues* He smirked. “Your mom’s hot.” I snatched it away from him. “Oh, don’t waste your time on her, big boy.” “Oh, I won’t. Not on her. But you…” He pulled me closer so suddenly that I lost my balance. I ended up on his lap and when I tried to stand, he only held me tighter. “Seth, you have to—” He cut me off with a kiss. And, well… let’s just say that even a drunk Seth Everett knows what he’s doing. Any other moment, and he would have gotten himself a black-eye. But knowing that he was senselessly drunk, I simply turned away and tried to stand again. “Everett, if you don’t want to sleep on the streets tonight, you better—” He kissed me again, harder this time and I had more trouble pushing him away because he was pressing me to him tighter. His hands traveled from my hair to my back and they were suddenly everywhere. One hand crept under my shirt, almost to my bra, but I managed to push him away. “Seth, you—” He pulled away sharply, flinching away and avoiding my eyes as he said, “I know, I know,” he said quietly. “You don’t want me either." He was drunk, yeah. But that bitterness? The harshness in his words? I had a feeling that those were all true. “You can sleep in my room,” I said. His face brightened up in a mischievous smile, so I gritted my teeth and added, “On the floor.” You would have thought that phrase was an off switch because his shoulders slumped almost automatically. “Not tonight, Everett. Actually, never ever.” He smirked. God, even in his drunk state, he was still Seth Everett, inside and out. “Never say never, Evans.” -- “TILL NOW! I ALWAYS GOT BY ON MY OWN!” Oh my god, make it stop. “I NEVER REALLY CARED UNTIL I MET YOU!” “Seth! Please! Just…. Just stop singing!” I yelled at him. Only he wasn’t just singing. He was screeching like the banshee itself. It made my head hurt. From the shower, I heard him laugh, before continuing to sing— screech, as it should be called—at the top of his voice, louder this time. I almost banged my head on the wall. And then the singing stopped, along with the shower. Finally. That guy takes a shower longer than most guys actually do. And then the bathroom opened, revealing Seth. In his fucking birthday suit. “Oh my god, Everett!” I said and turned around, my eyes shut, my hands over my face. “Cover yourself, idiot!” I didn’t see anything, I didn’t see anything, I didn’t see anything, I swear I didn’t see anything, especially not his… thing. Arrrrgh. He laughed, the sound deep and throaty. Without even seeing him, I could sense that he was walking towards me. He stopped just centimeters from me, his breath hot on the back of my neck. Oh my god, please tell me he’s all covered now. “What, Evans? Never seen one?” I flushed and I could feel my ears heating up as well. He must have taken my embarrassed reaction as an answer, because he was suddenly coughing. Well, half-coughing and half- laughing was probably nore accurate. I could tell that he was caught off guard by my reaction. It wasn’t that I’ve never seen one. I’d seen one years before when a hobo suddenly stopped in front of me and flashed It, but I didn’t count that because he was actually far away.

*continues* Other than that, I’ve pretty much never seen one this close. And is it just me or is Seth’s… I’m not even saying it. Nope, not even thinking of it. “Seriously, Evans? You —” “Do you want to sleep in the streets tonight or what!?” I snapped, my eyes still shut and my hands still covering my face. “God,” I heard him say. “Well, this should be fun.” “Seth, I’m warning you —” “Don’t worry. I'm all covered up now.” I heaved a sigh and turned to him to shout obscenities and scold him and do just about anything that could be considered payback. But then my eyes widened, seeing as he was still not wearing anything. “Not,” he said, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. And with my eyes closed again, I found myself wondering just what I had signed up for. “You’re an ass!” I yelled. “It’s good I have a great ass then!” he yelled back, and I knew he was now farther away from me. “Asshole,” I muttered. “I heard that!” he said, the sound of his laughter moving farther and farther in the house, as if it belonged to him. The nerve “Seth, if I turn around one last time and you’re not yet covered up, you’ll be sleeping outside naked.” He was still laughing. I could tell that he was now sobering up a little. He was srill drunk, but he had enough sense for him to make fun of me. “Seth,” I warned him. “Three.” I heard some shuffling. “Two.” I could feel him walking towards me. “I’m not kidding.” “It’s fine,” he said. I didn’t open my eyes immediately, knowing how that ended up five minutes ago. So slowly, I cracked open one eye, then the other, and I’m not even kidding when I tell you that I sighed loudly in relief to see that he was now wearing his pants. He was, however, not wearing a shirt. “Go put a shirt on,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can I borrow one? I sort of threw up on my shirt,” he added this with a scowl, as if he himself couldn’t believe that he would actually throw up on his own shirt. “I’ll… find you something.” And that, my friends, was how Seth Everett ended up wearing Cedric’s used-to-be favorite shirt. The black one with the goofy eyes on the front. “This belonged to him?” he asked, tugging at the collar as if it would infect him. “Yes, it did. And it’s the only shirt here that could actually fit you. Unless, of course, you want to wear mine?” “No, thank you,” he said and walked towards the couch again, staggering a little. He could stand better now than earlier. “Hey, Kyla?” “Uh huh?” I asked him. He paused for a while, suddenly smirking. “Tell me,” he said, doing a ridiculous pose in front of me, “I look better in it than that idiot, don’t I?” At first I didn’t know how to react because it seemed so random, but before I knew it, I burst out laughing. “You’re an idiot.”

*continues* He laughed as well and sank into the couch. Our laughter dissipated and we let a comfortable silence fall between us. “You live alone?” he asked. My smile faded, remembering my Mom, and I answered, “I might as well.” The look on his face actually seemed curious. Almost skeptical. “Huh,” he said, as if dismissing it, but I knew he was probably trying to figure out what I meant. “You can go ahead and… not be stupid while I do my homework.” He was quiet for a moment and I watched him in silence. His sandy brown hair was wet and messy from the shower, his expression almost hesitant. And not that I would actually ever tell him, but Cedric’s shirt actually did look better on him than it did on “that idiot,” as Seth freely called Cedric. “Evans,” he suddenly said. I blinked away from my thoughts and refocused on him. “What now?” I snapped. “What’s for dinner?” My mouth dropped open. You have got to be kidding me. --- There were three things I learned about Seth that night. A) Even drunk, he can still flirt/ make fun of me/try to kiss me/act annoyingly. Also, B) he was still a good kisser. And as our refrigerator and the spotless plates in front of us would prove, C) he could eat a whole cow and still eat be hungry. Not that he actually ate a whole cow tonight, but still. “Remind me, why am I helping you in the first place?” I asked him. I wasn’t completely sure if it was possible to be so drunk one second and be a little sober after two hours. Alcohol doesn’t usually work that way, right? Seth should have been drunk much longer, but I guess when you drink almost every night, you get a higher tolerance or something. Whatever. I just don’t fully know why I was actually letting him stay here when I could easily kick him out and be done with it. "Because I’m awesome?” he replied, taking another spoonful of spaghetti. It was, I believe, his fourth plate. And yes, I do think that he’s still hungry. “Sure. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” I said. It was a little past nine already, and Seth being here for two hours is already making me cranky and irritated. “Well, now that I think about it, why are you helping me?” he seemed to have registered the question only now. I guess he’s still not completely sober, despite the fact that he was starting to revert back to his usual cocky self. I shrugged. He tilted his head slightly to the right, his blue eyes focusing on mine, as he said, “Well, I think you’re helping me because despite the fact that you say you hate me, you actually don’t. Or you might be feeling a distinctive feeling of not hate. As we socialized around each other, you’ve become familiar with me and you’ve realized that I’m not so bad, unpleasant, or horrid after all, and therefore, you’ve begun to grow an imminent liking for me, throwing aside your skepticisms and doubts as to where our relationship could possibly end up.” “Did you just use the SAT vocabulary words in one sentence?” I asked him, thrown off. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him. He grinned, looking genuinely happy. But not that I’m-the-happiest- guy-alive kind of happy, but the Yes!-She- actually-fell-for-it kind. “What?” I asked him.

He leaned forward from across the table, one corner of his lips tilted upward, his eyes boring down on me. “What?” I snapped, unnerved. “Well, Evans, I just finished telling you that you’re helping me because you actually like me.” I blinked and was completely caught off guard as he uttered the next words—surprised and more than just shocked to find them true. He smirked. “You didn’t deny it.” -- Hi guys! :D As promised, an early update. Yes, yes, I know you're pretty much thinking "WHO IS SHE AND WHAT HAD SHE DONE TO SAM!?!" because this update is WAAAAY too early. But well, yeah. I just thought I owed it to everyone who actually reads this story. Thank you soooo much. I hope you liked the chapter and tell me what you think. ;)) Later!

Chapter Eight – Let’s Play a Game If you would have asked me days ago, I would have definitely not expected myself to end up with Seth Everett in my bedroom. I wouldn’t have been okay with the fact that he was making himself comfortable as he made a makeshift futon on my floor. I would never have been in an argument about the most ridiculous things ever—like, let’s say, whether or not it’s okay for him to sleep in nothing but his boxers. “No,” I said firmly as I fluffed my own pillow. Somebody shoot me now. I had no idea why I let Seth inside my house tonight, or why I cooked dinner for him. Moreover, I couldn't believe I was letting him sleep here. I must get my head checked somewhere, because something was definitely wrong with me. “But—but—I always sleep in my boxers,” he reasoned. “And you can’t expect me to wear my jeans—actual denim jeans—to sleep, do you?” “Well, either that or outside,” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to seem bossier. He shook his head, laughing, “Oh, Evans, aren’t you adorable?” he said, giving me a mocking sympathetic Poor dear look. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t seen everything already.” My face burned as I threw a pillow at him. “What can I do to make you behave?” I whined, feeling like I’d already lost a battle. Or maybe I couldn’t even fight anymore, exhausted from everything else that happened tonight. He was just opening his mouth to say something when I cut him off and shook my head, rubbing my right temple. “You know what? Never mind. I’m going to sleep.” I lied down, only to realize that the side I’d always slept on was facing him. Even though he was on the floor and I couldn’t see him (well, not all of him, anyway), I still felt a little awkward about it. “So I can sleep in my boxers then?” he asked me. Gritting my teeth, I hissed out a reply, “Yes. As long as you get out of my house before my Mom comes home.” He grinned then and made a show of unbuttoning his pants. “God!” I exclaimed as I threw a pillow in front of my face, shielding my eyes from the view. I knew without having to look that his eyebrows were raised in amusement and that he was smirking at me. “You’re calling me a god now just because you’ve seen my—” “Fuck off,” I snapped, my voice muffled by the pillow. Needless to say, my reaction only made him laugh harder. So instead of actually arguing with him over again, I just tried to calm myself and think of happy thoughts until I drift off to sleep. I heard him shuffling as he probably lied down on his makeshift futon. I didn’t even dare let go of the pillow, knowing full well that he could have actually stripped off more than just his pants. “Hey, Evans?” I heard him say after a few seconds in the darkness. “You’re actually not so bad after all.” “I wish I could say the same to you,” I said, “but unfortunately… you’re actually worse than I thought you were.” Again, it was like I could see the smile on his face right now, with only the right corner of his lips tipping upward. Despite this pillow that obscured my vision and the darkness and everything else, I really knew that he was smiling at the moment. “Why don’t you actually tell me a convincing lie, Evans? Honestly, I would have believed you more if you’d told me that pigs can fly.”

*continues* I'm not lying,” I said, huffing a little in protest. “There you go again! Another lie, right off the bat. Seriously, Evans.” I could hear the grin on his face. I could practically see him doing that smirk-ish grin of him. “It’s not a lie.” My voice was growing louder as irritation creeped in. He chuckled. “Three lies in a row. You’re a really bad girl. But honestly. Give me some credit. I’m not stupid and I know that you actually realized I’m not quite as bad than you think I am.” I was about to protest again, but he cut me off before I could utter anything. “If you really thought that I was worse than your idea of me, then I wouldn’t be here in your room right now. I would never even have set foot in this house, since you would have most likely slammed the door in front of me.” Smartass. “So, Evans. Will I be hearing a fourth lie?” “Fine, okay?” I snapped, feeling exhausted. “You’re not so bad after all either. Happy now?” It was silent. He didn’t chuckle, he didn’t say a witty response. Instead, silence covered us like a blanket, and like earlier, I knew that once again—he was smiling. -- “Evans, Evans.” The whisper woke me up. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Seth Everett. I bolted upright. “What are you doing here?” I snapped, looking at my bedroom’s door and window for a sign of forced entry. I even eyed my alarm clock, the closest weapon I could use if Seth decided to attack me. Before I could pick it up and smash it against his head, last night’s events came flashing back to me, and I lowered my guard a little, the key word being little. “Oh,” I said. “What time is your mom coming home?” he asked me. He was sitting on my floor, the comforters and blankets in a tangled heap around him. Again, I looked at my alarm clock, checking the time. It was a little past six a.m. I stifled a yawn and shrugged. “Around seven, I guess.” He yawned and stretched, and my eyes widened upon seeing a very unsightly view first thing in the morning. He must have seen the look on my face—horrorstruck and surprised and bordering on angry—because he froze and followed the direction I’m looking at. “Oh, my god, Everett! What the hell is—is— why do you have a boner?” I hissed at him, turning away. I barely even registered the fact that he was wearing superman boxers because of— Argh. What the hell? Calm down, Kyla. You’ve seen people get aroused before, I told myself. Whenever I made out with the usual random guy, he would always react that way. So there was nothing to worry about, right? But then again, I’ve seen the real thing last night so… I mentally cursed myself and my thoughts, especially when he began to chuckle, realizing what made me react so much. “Seriously? Why are you so red, Evans?” I looked at everywhere but him. “You are such a dog,” I said. “What?” he said, sounding defensive. “This is perfectly natural. It’s my morning glory,” he added with a mischievous tone. “You obviously want me,” he even said after my lack of reaction. Appalled, my mouth dropped open and I finally looked him straight in the eye. “You wish!” “Don’t guys always do?” he said, smirking as he rose from the floor and sat on my bed.

*continues* Not backing down, I realized that two can play at that game. So I faked a yawn (only it became a real yawn) and stretched nonchalantly. After that, I leaned in close to him and put one hand in his chest. He didn’t react at first. I looked at him through my lashes, even batting them for full effect and parted my lips as I looked in his eyes. The smirk on his face slowly faded. I let my hand trail up from his chest to the back of his neck, my fingers playing with his hair there. His breathing hitched to a stop. His pupils darkened and I finally grinned at him, pushing him back and standing up from my bed. “Don’t play that game with me, Everett. You won’t stand a chance,” I told him. He finally recovered from his momentary trance. “For fuck’s sake,” I heard him mutter under his breath, the words almost a hiss. I laughed, relishing on my victory. I was about to walk away but he grabbed my hand and pulled me. I was still a little light on my feet, so I immediately stumbled. It all happened so fast as he pulled and pinned me down on the bed. “You think I don’t stand a chance? I, Seth Everett, won’t stand a chance against a virgin at a game like this?” He smirked. “Seth,” I warned him. I tried to make him let go, flailing uselessly as he straddled me. My hands were useless as his own hands pinned my wrists to the mattress. And as hard as I could try, I couldn’t even make use of my legs because of his position. “You really don’t want to do this.” “Oh, Kyla. I very much want to play this game with you.” He leaned in close and his breath was hot on the side of my neck. “Let go,” I said, willing my voice to come out strong. And then his lips brushed against my ear, tickling me. I cringed away. "Stop it,” I hissed, trying not to get distracted from the tickling and everything else. And then his mouth was on my neck, trailing little kisses along my jaw. He really does know what he’s doing because I found my eyes closing, though my mind was protesting against each touch. I gritted my teeth together and tried to make sense of what was happening, trying not to get distracted. Each kiss was skillfully placed, effectively fogging up my senses, my mind protesting and something I couldn’t quite name pushing the protest back. Then suddenly the door opened. It happened so quickly that neither of us had time to react as a voice said, “Kyla?” Shit. Seth scrambled away from me and I sat up, so both he and I ended up sitting on the bed facing the door—facing my mother.

Fucking Shit

**CONTINUES** Chapter Nine – Is it Just Me or… Between you and me, I figured that sometimes, it was easier to explain a lie than the truth. Like my relationship with Seth. I mean, look. How was I ever going to tell Mom that “Oh, no, Mom. He’s not my boyfriend, but he spent the night here and I saw his thing already and even though we were in that compromising position earlier, I swear he’s not my boyfriend.” Yes, that would go totally well. So as my mother stared at me and Seth with her arms crossed, I figured I would never get to tell her the truth easily. I’m pretty sure she wouldn't believe me if I told her it wasn't what it looked like. “Mom, this is Seth,” I said, my face neutral as my mother regarded Seth. Oh, god. I was pretty sure Seth was going to hit on my mother, and I prayed a silent thanks when he didn't. In fact, he had the perfect guy vibe going on around him. “I am very sorry that we had to meet under such… circumstances,” he said, acting embarrassed yet still having that dignified air emanating from him. “But needless to say, it is very nice to meet you.” My mom raised an eyebrow and then looked at me. “So, Seth. You’re Kyla’s new boyfriend?” Seth sent me a sideways glance, then opened his mouth and I knew he was just about to protest, to disagree. “Yes, Mom. Seth’s my new boyfriend,” I cut in quickly. This seemed to take Seth by surprise because he froze and briefly looked at me in alarm. I shrugged and sent him a Just go with it look. “I’ll be honest with you, Seth,” Mom said curtly, though I could see she was at least a little relieved to find that Seth was my “boyfriend” instead of some random guy. “I don’t appreciate seeing my daughter in a…” “Oh, I’m really sorry.” Wow. Seth was either a great actor or he was actually just sincere. His face was red and he looked really embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to… I, well… Kyla, is it okay for me to tell your mother?” Now I was the one who was alarmed. “Oh, um, okay. It’s fine,” I forced the words out though. I fought the urge to strangle him at the moment. What the hell is he talking about? I hate the fact that I had no idea what he has up his sleeves at that very moment. “Kyla and I were… well, she started talking to me about college and how she doesn’t want to attend a college without me. I… I couldn’t help myself. I’m really sorry.” Okay—what the fuck? “It’s just that… I was so happy to find out that she wanted a deeper commitment; that she was willing to take this high school romance seriously,” he said, and I realized that he was simply playing his cards right by appealing to Mom and letting her know that we were on a serious relationship, therefore making our behavior more acceptable. “Oh, is that so?” she said, both of her eyebrows now shooting up. “How long have you been going out?” “Three months,” I said the same time Seth answered, “Four months.” I stepped on his foot under the table and quickly covered. “We’ve been seeing each other for four months, but we only became a couple”—I cringed a little at the word—“after a month so he’s been my boyfriend for three months.” I wasn’t sure, but my mom seemed to buy it. And so finally, the final blow. “Why, might I ask, did you end up sleeping in my daughter’s room, Seth?” The smile on my mother’s face was perfectly normal—even warm—but her eyes were all business as he looked condescendingly at Seth.

***CONTINUES*** He looked down and seemed to be thinking. Oh, my god, we are so busted. We both know we can’t tell her that he was drunk last night, because she’d be kicking him out for good once she finds out I let a drunk, hormonal high school guy sleep in my room for a whole night —probably kicking me out as well. I was about to say a lame excuse about a school project but Seth replied first. “My mom’s new boyfriend was staying the night at our house,” he said, sounding sad. My head whipped to him, but he was still looking at his hands on the table, looking down so I couldn’t meet his gaze. “I couldn’t bear to stay there, so I left. I had nowhere to go and I… I’m really sorry.” The stern expression on Mom's face softened as she heard this. I also found myself processing this piece of information, trying to figure out whether or not he was sincere or simply acting. “Anyways, I didn’t mean for things to go…” Seth trailed off, as if to search for a less atrocious term, and settled with, “out of hand, and I’m really, really sorry.” If I hadn’t known any better, he could have fooled me into believing the goody boyfriend act. Heck, I almost did believe. My mother, surely, is buying everything. “Okay, Seth. I do think we could have met in better…” Mom squirmed a little and continued, “circumstances. But for everything else at hand right now, does your mother know you’re out?” Oh, the irony. This, coming from my mother, who barely knows if I actually went home to sleep or if I’d somehow sneaked out when I'm not supposed to. All this crap coming from a person who could actually care less. I wasn’t even aware of my clenched fists until Seth took my right hand and gently pried my fingers open under the table. He sent me a look, What’s wrong? To which I replied to by looking pointedly away. He didn’t immediately release my hand until I pulled it away from his grasp. “She knows I’m here,” he answered, not missing a beat despite the fact that I had distracted him a little. Mom exhaled a little and said, “Okay. You can stay here for a while until you think it’s fit for you to go home.” There it was again. The word “home.” I thought back to what Seth said to me last night, in his weird drunken state, about having a house but not a home. “Thank you, Mrs. Evans,” Seth said softly, almost sounding really thankful, and for a second I wondered if he really was thankful. My mom’s expression wavered, her eyes looking vulnerable as she said, “Please. Call me Rachel.” People calling her “Mrs. Evans” had always shaken her. Ever since Charlie Evans died a few years ago, Mom had been sensitive with the topic and all. Seth must have seen the look on my mom’s face as he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Rachel,” he said. “And I really am sorry.” Finally, Mom snapped back to being herself and smiled at Seth. “Sure, Seth. Though I would like to discuss a few rules…” -- It could have gone worse. As a matter of fact, I still couldn’t believe that we actually pulled that off. The whole confrontation with Mom could have definitely been unpleasant. But sitting there, as my mom “enforced” her “rules,” I found myself seething. She has no fucking right to act like my mother now.

***CONTINUES*** If you’re here, I want to know that you are. You can’t sneak in and not tell me, or else.” Mom looked at Seth in all seriousness, and Seth acted exactly how he should be acting. I could barely register their conversation as I tuned them out, too busy trying not to shout at my mom, not to tell her what I really feel about everything she’d done, or more like everything she hadn’t done, for the past few years. After what seemed like forever, she finally stopped and excused herself to rest. Silence filled the kitchen as Seth and I both stayed there. “So… your mom,” he said after a while. I gritted my teeth together. “Not a word.” “Look, Evans. I didn’t mean for things to end up—” “Seriously, Seth. Cut the crap, I don’t care,” I said, standing up, wanting to leave the too silent kitchen. “My mom knows I have a boyfriend—end of story.” I felt all too exhausted, as if I’d run a mile without stopping. He looked at me warily, like he wanted to argue with me, but then he probably decided against it as his signature smirk crossed his face. “Well, Evans. Boyfriend, huh?” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.” “Well, it sure looked like you wouldn’t complain. Especially when we were in your bedroom.” “Oh, fuck off,” I told him. “And I wasn’t enjoying anything, dumbass.” “Who said anything about enjoying something?" His smirk shifted into a whole other level of annoying. "I simply said you weren't complaning." I flushed, embarassed by my own slip-up. “Well, I would have complained if my mother hadn’t barged in on us—by the way, thanks a lot for that!” I snapped at him. He didn’t even look as irritated as I felt. As usual, he was downplaying it, looking amused and frustratingly calm. “You started it, so don’t blame me.” “I started it? I did not. You were the one who came pouncing on me with your boner!” I hissed at him, trying not to raise my voice too much in case my mother could hear us. He raised an eyebrow, looking more and more amused by the second. “Well, weren’t you the one who challenged me with—” “You know what? I'm done here. I don’t know, I don’t care.” “Look, I know something that could lift your mood!” He looked a little child-like as he grinned happily at me. I knew something was off as he stared at me with his sparkling eyes and all that energy coming off of him. Quite literally, I shuddered at the sight of him being so… different. “Come on. I’m not sure why you’re feeling so down, but come on. It’s a fine Saturday morning, and would you rather stay and be so down or come out with great ol’ Seth Everett?” “I’d stay here. Obviously. Not really much of a choice, ain’t it?” I retorted. “Fourth,” he said. I gave him a quizzical look. “What?” “Fourth lie,” he said. “I’m keeping count.” “I—I am not lying!” I said, indignant. “Fifth,” he said, even holding up all of his five fingers. “Come on, Kyla. Would you really rather stay here? Just be honest to yourself. I don’t care if you’re lying to me, but be honest with yourself and—and —and listen to your heart. And yes, I do suck at this motivational speech crap, so… what do you say?

***CONTINUES*** For the record, he did suck at it. “Come on, Evans. I don’t want to stay at my house, you don’t want to stay at yours either. Let’s go have some fun.” “Your idea of fun scares me, Everett.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, you scared enough to actually pass up on this?” I felt my lips twitching to a smile, but I fought hard to keep a straight face. “I”—he smiled at looked triumphant —“saw that.” Rolling my eyes, I finally conceded. “I'm only saying yes because I don’t want to stay here, and definitely not because of you. As a matter of fact, I’d do better if you’re out of the equation.” His hands flew to his chest as he made a dramatic, greatoy exaggerated hurt expression. “I am wounded, Evans. Me, out of the equation? Now, now, Kyla.” He dropped the mock-hurt look, which was quickly replaced with his one- cornered smile. “Where would be the fun in that?” -- You would be shocked to find that in the fifteen minutes I needed for a shower, Seth had finished preparing all the “necessities” (as he had called them) for the day. I swear he could compete with Martha Stewart with a video entitled How to: Fifteen-Minute Picnic Basket! I would have teased him about it as I used a towel to dry the tips of my hair. Before I took my shower, he asked me permission to do some things for the preparation and that he might need to use our kitchen. I told him that he could go ahead, as long as our house doesn’t burn down—or worse. Never did I expect to find myself staring at a very excited Seth Everett holding a picnic basket with one hand as I got out of the bathroom. “What? Our classmates do know that we agreed on a picnic,” he said. “I couldn’t find blankets, though. I mean, I didn’t want to…” “A picnic?” He nodded. "Yeah. A picnic." I was about to say something in response, but I clamped my mouth shut, realizing arguing with him wouldn't lead anywhere. “Fine, whatever,” I cut him off before he could “defend his case." “Oh, I also talked to your neighbor! Good old Miss Franny, bless her heart,” he said. My eyes snapped to his. “What? Did you just alienate my seventy- two year-old neighbor? Don’t tell me you tried a move on her?” My head snapped to his direction. “Oh my god, Seth, not Miss Franny! She’s seventy-two and—god! She’s probably traumatized to—” “Hey, whoa, whoa, chill.” He held up two hands, the universal sign of surrender. “First off, how many times do you have to stab my soft, soft heart? I can’t believe you actually came to that conclusion. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I only noticed the bikes in the driveway. I asked her if I could borrow them. That’s it, okay?” He shrugged. “Now, is that jealousy I hear? Is my three-month girlfriend jealous of dear Miss Franny?” “Go fuck yourself,” I muttered. “And seriously? We’re riding bikes?” He grinned. “A bike.” “What?” “We’ll ride one bike. Unfortunately, Miss Franny’s bikes are broken, and only one of them actually work.

***CONTINUES*** We’re taking the car,” I said, making a beeline for the counter, where the keys were. “No, no, no.” He grabbed the keys before I could, pocketing them and saying, “It’s for the ultimate picnic experience! We have to ride bikes.” Is it just me, or is Seth Everett actually one weird fellow? “I half-expect you to tell me that I should wear an appropriate picnic sundress,” I said, almost absentmindedly. You could not blame me for the look of horror on my face as Seth smiled at me, saying, “Well, actually… I already picked one for you.” Dear god. Okay, it is most definitely not just me. Seth Everett really is one weird fellow. Shoot me now.

Chapter Ten - Should We Check Your Pulse? “I am never getting on that bike again.” I glared at Seth. “I don’t give a hell with what you’re going to say, but that’s fine. I’m walking home if I have to.” Seth rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting.” I scoffed. “I’m overreacting? You really think that—” He grinned, and without warning, he was running. That would have been fine, really, but the thing was, he grabbed my right arm as he ran, which meant that I half-ran, half- stumbled behind him. As if adding fuel to the fire was going to help him. “Everett,” I warned and he stopped so abruptly that I actually bumped on his back with a lame, “Oof.” He didn’t seem to take notice of this as he surveyed the park and where we were standing. Since it was a Saturday, the park was filled with all sorts of people. Mothers and children, college dudes, old people doing what old people do, women sporting different kinds of sport bras jogging around the grass, people reading books by a tree, and honestly, there were simply too many random people doing random stuff. "I love this spot,” he said, with an almost nostalgic smile plastered across his face. I noticed, for the first time, that we were standing by a weird tree. It was one of those big-trunk trees with a hole in the side. I would probably fit inside it if I crouch. I eyed Seth and said, “You’ve been here before?” Which was a stupid question, I admit, because obviously, he had been here before. “We used to have picnics every Saturday,” he said and moved with familiarity as he spread the blanket right below the tree. Used to. Which meant that they’re not having them anymore. “What happened?” I asked casually as I crossed my arms over my chest. I hadn’t even realized that I was panting and was a little out of breath from when he dragged me here. He shrugged. “Just stuff.” I could tell “just stuff” obviously meant something more to him, but he doesn’t go around asking my “stuff,” so I didn’t ask him further about this. “Well, I’ve never actually had a picnic.” He stopped straightening out the blanket to look up at me. The horrified look on his face was enough to make me snort rudely. “You’ve never—God, what kind of childhood did you have?” he shook his head as he said this, and I actually flinched. I knew he meant it as a harmless rhetorical question, but I couldn’t help but recoil at his words, not wanting him to know that they actually hit home and struck a chord. He must have noticed, though, because his expression sobered a little and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “You’re going to enjoy this.” He recovered and sent me a knowing, all- too-confident and very Seth-ish smile. “Do you know the most important part of a picnic?” I blinked. "Relaxation." He smiled and took a seat on the blanket, laying back, both his hands supporting his weight. “You just have to relax, Evans.” Rolling my eyes, I took a seat on the spot that I deemed was far enough from him. “Isn’t the point of a picnic connected to food?” “The food’s just a bonus.” He waved his hand as if dismissing the thought altogether, as if it didn’t actually matter. “What’s important is that you get to relax and just enjoy.” “Yeah, right.

***CONTINUES*** Evans, why don’t you just let go?” He sounded irritated. “It’s a fine Saturday morning and you’re with the Seth Everett. What more could you ask for? You’re probably living the dream.” A rude laugh made its way out of my mouth. “Oh, aren’t you just adorable? You think everyone enjoys your presence? Way to ignore the obvious, Everett. You’re face to face with living proof that not everybody adores you and you manage not to acknowledge that?” His lips quirked into his smile. And yes, he does have his own smile, with the one corner thing and all. “You love being with me.” By this time, I was laughing out loud. And it wasn’t even the happy, genuine laughter—it was that rude, making- fun-of-him laugh. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.” Then suddenly he had grabbed me and had me lying on my back as well, so we were lying side by side. “God, Evans. Don’t be so difficult. Just relax and fall in love and have kids and be positive and shit.” “Are you high on something?” I asked him. “Honestly, are you?” I tried sitting, but he only grabbed me halfway up, which resulted to me bumping my head on the ground painfully and my back protesting in a dull ache as well. I gritted my teeth together. “What is your problem?” I snapped. “You,” he replied. My head whipped to look at him, and his eyes were actually closed, a ghost of a smile on his face. I scowled. “Excuse me, you’re the one who dragged me here and —” He groaned, cutting me off. “Kyla Evans, will you please just sit back and enjoy the day?” “How about no?” His eyes snapped open and he said, “Since you asked for it…” Before he could even move, I sat up quickly (to avoid him pulling me back again) and scooted farther. “Don’t even try anything. I’m going to —” Suddenly, he was also up and grabbing me, hands tickling me at my sides. I jerked away and tried to fight the tickling sensation but I couldn’t. And I still don’t get how the girls in movies manage to look decent and even cute while being tickled, because I was pretty sure I looked ridiculous writhing and squirming with my hair going all directions and my dress getting hitched higher and higher up my thighs in an attempt to make him let go. “Stop!” I said as I tried kicking him off, probably just showing off my underwear for everyone who was paying attention to see. “Then promise me you’ll really try to just simply enjoy the morning,” he said. I kept my mouth shut. He must have remembered that my ears were ticklish, because he was suddenly tickling them until I was forced to say, “Okay, okay, fine!” He let go almost instantly. As I straightened myself up, I wanted to wipe that stupid smug look on his face. He looked so damn satisfied of himself that I really did want to bash his head with something hard. Presumably something that could crack that thick skull open. “Behave,” he warned, probably picking up on my murderous intent. “You don’t want me tickling you again, do you? I’d be more than willing to.” I would have tried something, but then I just let my shoulders sag, feeling tired and restless. “Ugh. You know what? Fine, whatever.” Arguing with Seth was proving to be nearly impossible. We were lying both on our backs in silence. I was concentrating on calming my breathing and trying not to argue with him again. I was also thinking if I should bolt already and abort this picnic. Knowing that trying to fight Seth would only exhaust me, I just kept quiet in the hopes that he takes my silence as a sign that I’m “relaxing.

***CONTINUES*** Maybe Seth was actually a hippie, with all his relaxing and letting go crap. “So, the whole student body knows we’ve gone on a picnic, and…” He trailed off. A flash blinded me for a second, and I realized that he’d taken a picture. “What the hell, Everett?” He grinned at me. “I will post this on Facebook for evidence. It will get the rumor mill up.” I was about to voice out a complaint, but then I just settled with saying, “Fine. Whatever.” Let the dude do what he wants to do. After a few seconds of silence, a thoughts occured to me. I looked at him curiously and said, “Hey, I’m just curious…” “Hmm?” he said distractedly as he examined the photo. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his profane vanity. “With you helping me with this stuff and all, you want to make everyone think you like me, right? And that you’ve changed for me?” “Uh, I'm pretty sure we’ve established that days ago?” “Well, if you want everyone to think that you’ve actually taken a liking to me, does that mean you’ve stopped sexually harassing every available female in the room? That you haven’t stuck your tongue down every girl’s throat? That you actually kept what’s in your pants to yourself ever since we began this whole charade?” He winced as I’d pointed out those stuff. “You make me sound like a bad person.” “That’s because you are one.” “And sexually harassing? It’s not sexual harassment if the other party is more than just willing to do something. And I don’t stick my tongue down —where the hell did that phrasing even come from? It’s both virtually disgusting and disturbing.” “Well, Seth, you’re the one who—Forget it.” I shook my head and sighed. “You didn’t answer the question, though.” “No, okay?” he hissed out. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone since this whole fiasco.” This made my eyebrows shoot way up on my forehead. “Seth Everett—you’re actually refraining yourself from hooking up with random girls?” “It’s no big deal.” He huffed a little, almost in indignation. “Whatever you say. Why can’t you just be happy that I'm doing all this for you?” I was now lit up with amusement and I openly laughed at him. “Who would have thought that we’d see the day where Seth doesn’t sleep with every girl in a twenty- foot radius around you?” Finally, he laughed as well. “Oh, the horror,” he says in a monotone. “How would I ever live without sleeping with random girls?” “Should I be worried?” I asked him. “This could very well damage your inner workings and mechanism. Are you feeling faint? Should I be checking your pulse? We don’t want your lack of interaction with the opposite sex be the reason your body stops functioning, do we?” He laughed a little. “You know what, Evans? You’re a real piece of work.” I was about to bite out a snarky remark when suddenly, something caught my attention. As a matter of fact, this “something” had all my attention and had alarmed me so much that I was seeing red, red, red. Just when I was actually beginning to relax, actually starting to feel at ease, and I had to witness this?

***CONTINUES*** Of course Cedric would be here! As if that wasn’t the most expected thing to happen. It was exactly what would happen if my life was a badly written cliché on a writing site on the internet or something. As a matter of fact, deep inside me, I know I even half-expected and anticipated Cedric’s appearance. What I didn’t expect— would never expect in a million years—though, was this. Cedric was here… with another girl. -- Okay hi guys! Look. This was originally longer. I really didn't plan on stopping there, but it would be waaaaay too long if I don't cut it. So I know that everyone expects Cedric to get jealous here already, but I actually enjoyed writing the part with Seth and Kyla. I just think they ought to actually have "a moment" before they start faking something. Not sure if it's just me or something, but I really do want to develop the characters and their feelings before delving into other parts of the story.

Aiite... Good one... We re following

Wow! Ur idea sounds so cool. Thanks for the updates dude.

Chapter Eleven– Hey, is that My Shirt? There were always some things that could render someone completely speechless. Sometimes even to the point that we can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t even react. And this was one of those times. My vision clouded as my heartbeat sped up, feeling righteous fury take over me as I glared at that achingly familiar mop of black hair and a girl who had her back turned to us so I couldn’t immediately recognize her. Something about her was familiar—the hair, the way she stood. I couldn’t place her, but then my eyes landed on her well-worn sneakers and I swear it felt as if was socked in the stomach, all the air knocked out of me. “Hail,” her name came out as whisper. Seth must have been paying attention to me because he was suddenly sitting upright. “Breathe,” he said. I wasn’t even aware that I’ve been holding my breath. “Keep calm.” I couldn’t even focus as red flashed in my mind, clouding my vision. “Kyla.” Seth’s voice was like a warning. My legs were tingling to move, to get up and march right over to Cedric and Hail. To simply walk up to them and yell and curse and maybe even try landing a punch on Cedric’s face. As a matter of fact, I would have done exactly that if Seth hadn’t been holding me in place. “Breathe. Think clearly,” he murmured calmly into my ear. By the tone of his voice, I knew he had already come up with something. He sounded calm and collected and I was silently thankful of that “What do we do?” I asked him, trying to make my breathing even. “It depends on you.” He forced me to turn to him so that our faces were only inches apart. “We can go with this two ways. We can pretend we didn’t see them, or we can catch their attention deliberately and give them a show. So… it’s your call, Evans.” Cedric and Hail, together like this. I thought nothing could hurt me more than the time Cedric broke up with me. Obviously, I’d thought wrong. “I say we join them,” I said, knowing that I could lose my composure anytime while I'm near them. “Just march right up and sit with them. We could even share food.” I was already standing up but Seth pulled me down. “Hey. Hey, look.” He shook his head and held up a condescending finger at me. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You’d be fine sitting with him? With that girl? I saw how you looked at him when you saw them, saw how you reacted. Are you really sure you want to join them and—” “Damn right I’m sure, Everett, so shut up and come on,” I snapped, pulling myself off his grip. “Okay. Why don’t you fucking calm down first?” he hissed through his teeth. “I know you don’t like me but I'm not a damn punching bag you can use to let off some steam, Evans. I agreed to help you, but I didn’t sign up as your stress reliever.” I let out a breath and said, “Okay, fine.” “Fine? That’s it? Not even a sorry or something?” I just looked at him. He scoffed. “Right. Whatever.” He stood up and carelessly grabbed me up too, almost pulling my right arm out of its socket. “You know, I don’t get why you keep on putting on this heartless bitch act. It’s not even real.” “Like you know what’s real about me. And don’t be a hypocrite,” I said. Groaning, he ran his fingers through his hair. “You know what? Stop. Let’s just do this thing and get it over with.

***CONTINUES*** We were already halfway there when Cedric looked up and saw us. He froze as he watched us, which was when Hail noticed and looked over her shoulder too. She blinked a lot and tensed, almost rigid with anxiety. I tried not to glare at her. I put on my best smile. “Hi there! Isn’t it great to find both my ex best friends together?” “Kyla,” Cedric said, eyeing Hail and then me. “It’s not—” “Oh, shush,” I said. “Hey, Hail! Have you met Seth? Seth, this is Hail. She and I used to be best friends.” Seth eyed me warily at first before nodding at Hail and saying, “How you doing?” “We thought it would be soooo nice to eat lunch with you guys,” I said, smiling sweetly at them. “That would be okay, right?” “Yeah, sure,” he said, looking away from my face. And… well, his gaze landed on Seth. Or his shirt. “Hey, is that my shirt?” Seth sent me an amused glance and we both started to laugh. Oh, god, I totally forgot about Seth wearing Cedric’s shirt. “Well, you don’t mind, do you?” Seth said. “I sort of crashed the night at Kyla’s because her mother wasn’t at home.” Both Cedric and Hail froze. “By the way, if you ever find yourself looking for a place to crash, try Kyla’s. Her bed is so awesome it feels like heaven. Well, of course, I could be referring to a different kind of heaven…” he said suggestively, and by the look on Cedric’s and Hail’s faces, I knew they were thinking exactly what Seth wanted them to think. Once we were all settled, I beamed at all of them. “Oh, I sure hope we’re not interrupting your fun time with your girlfriend,” I told Cedric. “And please don’t think that the whole situation is awkward. This whole, ex-best friend and ex-girlfriend thing shouldn’t get in the way.” Obviously, my comment inly made everything more uncomfortable for them. “Well, let’s eat!” I said brightly, making sure it’s clear that my enthusiasm was obviously fake. We laid out the food we had. As I opened the picnic basket Seth made for us, I noticed that he was watching me. I gave him a sideways What glance. He shook his head and let out a breath, shrugging as if to say Nothing but I clearly knew he had an opinion about the whole situation again. Did the guy really have an opinion for everything? Opinionated guys are supposedly gay, right? Needless to say, things went downhill from there. Especially for Cedric and Hail, seeing as they were obviously forcing the polite attitude and civilized manner. I, however, was clearly enjoying the show. Hail was drinking some orange juice when I decided to nonchalantly ask, “So, have you had sex yet?” She made this awful choking noise and coughed. A lot. “Omigosh, are you okay?” I asked her, actually feeling a little concerned. I even felt bad knowing that I caused this whole coughing fit. Cedric reached out to her and grabbed the cup from her, setting it aside before starting to rub Hail’s back in an effort to make her feel better. And just like that, the concern went down the drain. Red, red, red was flashing in my mind. If Seth hadn't been sending me subtle Calm down signs, I might have already ripped half of Hail’s hair out. “Oh, I remember when you used to do exactly that to me,” I told them.

***CONTINUES*** Oh, I’m sure you remember a lot of things,” Cedric said pointedly, making it seem rude and sarcastic. “Why, of course!” I said. “You were my first boyfriend after all. First kiss, first date, and all those firsts.” I felt Seth wrap his arm around my waist. “All those firsts? Oh, I'm sure there’s a first time for everything,” he said mischievously in my ear, but I knew he was saying it loud enough for Cedric and Hail to hear. Damn, I knew I should never have told him about my virginity. “Hey, you know what the funny thing about first times is?” I leaned a little closer to Seth’s shoulder. “The next times are usually so much better.” Cedric stared at me, knowing exactly what I meant. His jaw tightened as he regarded me with a dark look in his eyes. “Oh, and Hail, dear?” I continued. “Since we’re all good friends here, I’m sure you don’t mind that I'm saying this, but I do hope Cedric finally learned how to kiss better.” Hail’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Cedric swore under his breath and looked up at us. “Excuse me, what game are you playing at?” he asked me. “Bullshit, Kyla. Why are you doing this to us?” Seth tightened his hold on my waist. I blinked innocently at him. “Doing what?” “Making us all uncomfortable,” he said. “Oh, did I?” I said. “Have I been making you uncomfortable?” Good. “I believe I’ve just been telling the truth all this time, especially about the kiss part. Your kisses are nothing like… like…” I trailed off and pretended to think, before brightening up to say, “like this!” as I stood on my knees and grabbed the collar of Seth’s shirt, mashing my lips against his. His hand automatically went to the back of my neck and I let go of his collar to let my hands weave into his hair. Hot damn, but Seth really did kiss better than Cedric does. “Will you please not swap spit in front of us?” Cedric sounded angry and both Seth and I pulled away. “Well, you weren’t complaining when it was the two of us,” I said, smiling at him. “You know, I’ve spent quite a lot of time wondering whether or not I'm doing the right thing. Me, not talking to you and stuff,” Hail suddenly said, looking royally pissed at me. “But you know what? This is exactly why I know that I am doing the right thing. You’re not Kyla.” She stood up and grabbed Cedric, who was staring at me and Seth as if he was still seeing us kiss. “Come on, Ced.” I snorted. “Ced? Are you kidding me? Ced?” Hail looked me squarely in the eye. “Thank you for making it so much easier to walk away.” -- “I should never have— never have done this,” I set, kicking my sandals off as I settled back onto the picnic blanket, covering my face with my hands as I let all the emotions flow out of me. Anger, frustration, and fucking hurt. My throat was aching with suppressed sobs and my eyes were hot with unshed tears. Seth shifted beside me and I felt his warm hands holding my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. “What?” I snapped at him. He looked at me, unnervingly calm. He took my hands in his and forced them to stay down. There was something lurking in his eyes, a seriousness I didn’t expect. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?

***CONTINUES*** No,” I immediately answered, blinking away tears. Almost too gently, he brushed away strands of hair from my face, tucking them behind my right ear. “What is it? Come on. I can’t help you if I don’t know these things.” Around us, the people were doing different things, doing their planned activities for the day, their worlds still moving even as mine seemed to have stopped. A gust of wind rushed past us, blowing with it a few leaves. A single dry leaf made its way to us, landing neatly on my dress. Yellow, almost crispy— seemingly a dead, fragile thing. It reminded me of me. After a moment of prolonged silence, he said, “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. But you should also know that it’s okay to just tell Cedric that you still like him, that you’re still hurt. That you want him back.” “But I don’t want him back!” “Are you sure?” he asked me, unfazed by my outburst. “I… I don’t know. But I don’t want to want him back. I keep… I keep telling myself that he hurt me, that he broke my heart, that he will only break it again, over and over again, but I don’t know why the fuck I still feel like I like him.” Silence aired for a while. Yet behind it, behind this silence, heavy words were waiting to be said. Words loudest in the passing silence. “I think that’s normal,” he said. “To feel that way, even after you’ve been hurt many times.” Hearing this from him made me stop. Had he been hurt before? Had he been brokenhearted once? “That’s why I think it’s okay to cry,” he said. “It’s better if you do.” He shifted again, sitting right beside me so we were shoulder to shoulder. He pulled me closer as he draped his arm over my shoulders, not saying anything more than what was needed to say. The tears didn’t spill over. I was better than that. After a moment of silence, I decided it wouldn’t hurt for me to tell him. It’s not like I have anyone else to talk to, seeing as Hail and Cedric were officially in the bottom of my friend list. “Hail used to be my best friend,” I said, a pang of hurt making it harder to continue. “I'd always been kind of socially awkward. I only had two friends. Hail and Cedric. Back then, though, I thought they were enough. I thought I didn’t need anyone else as long as I had then. I was so, so stupid,” I said, my hands taking the dried leaf from my dress, slowly, slowly, tearing it apart bit by bit. Unlike the way Cedric broke my heart—not slowly, not bit by bit, but all at once in one big crash. “Now I can’t even have either of them,” I continued, regretting a lot of things, a feeling of anger washing over me. “Well,” he said, pausing for a while before saying, “then they don’t deserve you. You deserve better than them.” I looked down at my hands, the dried leaf now fully crumbled. “You know what? It seems as if this day is ruined, but fear not!” His tone changed from his serious, gentle, weirdly understanding voice into his playful, happy one. “I know something that will take your mind off of this.” I looked at him quizzically, puzzled. Then suddenly, he leaned into me and kissed me as if he had every right to do so. My eyes widened, and I would have pushed him away if he hadn’t broken the kiss before I could. He was grinning impishly at me. “Well, I do kiss better than that guy, right? What the fuck? You are so full of yourself. I--I only said that to make a point. I didn't mean it!” “Honestly, Kyla, I’ve lost count on all the lies you’ve told me.” “You are such a pig,” I told him. “Here I was, telling you my stupid, stupid thoughts and here you were thinking about shit that could boost your ego.” "Hey, I was only trying to help,” he said, raising both his hands—the universal sign of surrender. My mouth dropped open. “How is this supposed to help?” He simply shrugged. “See, now you’ve forgotten about hating him and started hating me for kissing you,” he said. “Which is better, right? For you, anyway.” I was more than just surprised to hear this from him. It didn’t make sense. How could this guy, this vain, self- centered, egotistic guy who knows nothing but fool around with girls, be so different? He smiled at me, ruffling my hair with his hand in a surprisingly brotherly gesture. I was rendered speechless, my mouth slightly parted as the weight of his hand rested atop my head—warm, gentle and friendly. The exact opposite of the Seth Everett I had in mind back then.

CHAPTER 11 I could feel my cheeks flaming as I stared at the teddy bear placed on top of my desk. It was early in the morning, right before the first bell rang. I came a little too early to the classroom. A few of my classmates were already there, looking at the little furry stuffed toy perched innocently atop my desk. The coffee brown bear stared back at me with its dark glass eyes. There was a piece of paper attached with a pink lacy ribbon on its hand. My name was printed in a loopy handwriting I recognize but couldn’t quite place, so there was no mistaking who this was for. It was for me. If that wasn’t enough proof, the first two gifts I’ve received the past week was enough. At first it was just a letter. Nothing big, just my name, a poem and a simple drawing of a rose bud, not quite fully bloomed but halfway there. Then it was an actual rose, almost similar to the sketch on the letter. For a plain, freshman girl who was pretty much a wallflower that no one noticed, receiving these gifts was something that really made my heart beat faster. Hail nudged me. “Oh my god, girl. Go get it.” I stood there, unsure of what to do as all my classmates stared at me and the little stuffed toy, and all the words and feelings and the beat, beat, beat that came with it. Three weeks later, Cedric told me he was in love with me. Dear god. Today it was a song. A freaking song. In the cafeteria. I’ve been so used to eating alone ever since I’ve changed. After my Literature class, I went straight to the cafeteria. Just a few months ago, I would have stayed in the library to wait for Hail’s class to end. I would stay there for at least thirty minutes because her Arts teacher always, always dismissed his class late, even after the bell rang, which should be against the rules but no one complains because Mr. Cooper was not only a fun teacher, but was also hot. Hail really liked art, and she took the class seriously. Also, Michael Larkin—her ultimate crush—was in that class. She would come to the library with a glint in her eye, almost always smelling of paint and acrylic, some bright color still stuck on her hands, completely content with her Arts class. Together, we would go to the cafeteria to eat, and Cedric will appear, and we would eat together, the three of us. Now, I’ve been so accustomed to eating lunch alone at a table that I’d also gotten used to being completely ignored. Not today, though. Today, Seth shone a spotlight on me as he suddenly decided to approach my table with a guitar, making everyone fall silent and me look up at him with wide eyes, silently asking him what he was planning to do. “Hi there, Evans,” he said, pulling a chair and sitting on it, looking at me as if no one was staring at the two of us. “What are you doing here?” I asked him. I tried my best to appear amused, to seem excited. “Well, I was done eating, had pretty much nothing to do, and decided I’d drop by and say hi,” he said. “With a guitar.” I set my fork down. He smiled. “That”—he positioned the guitar on his legs—“is just a bonus.” I wasn’t quite sure if this was a show meant for the whole student body or if he was just being his weird self, striking up a random conversation. “Don’t tell me you’re going to play a song for me.” And by that, I really meant don’t tell me you’re going to play a song for me. I tried to send the message with my eyes, as if I would suddenly develop telepathic skills if I wished hard enough.

***CONTINUES*** Obviously, I didn’t. He sent me one of his half-smiles before starting to pluck the strings. He acted as if he didn’t care that the whole cafeteria had come to a standstill, watching, listening. He was actually pretty good at playing. It was an old song. When You Say Nothing At All. His singing voice was just a bit above average, but the way he played and sang, with a hint of a smile lingering on his lips, was really something. He ended the song after the first chorus and a round of applause filled the cafeteria. My cheeks must have been flaming red. There were a few giggles here and there, a few whistles, and there were some guys who were fake- coughing while saying Lame. Looking up at one of them, I realized they were his friends, and were probably just making fun of him in that weird way that guys just do. “Well, make fun of me, but that ain’t stopping me,” Seth said in a clear voice. Everyone seemed to cheer him on, but he set the guitar down and moved his chair closer to mine. He set one of his elbows on the table and leaned his head on his hand, looking directly at me, grinning like he had every right to do so. “You’re nuts,” I told him, my cheeks still flushed. “What about my nuts?” he said, winking at the clever innuendo. “My, my, Evans. Who knew that one song would have you begging for my nuts?” I rolled my eyes at his childishness. “Really, Seth, really?” He laughed, shaking his head and motioning to my unfinished… food. If you can call this unidentified mixture of green and orange stuff (are these really vegetables?) food. “Finish your food, Evans.” “Most times, I really just don’t get you,” I said. We’ve fallen into a normal conversation as everyone else eventually got bored of watching us and the cafeteria buzzed back to life. “Ah, that’s because most times,” he said, “I seem to act differently around you.” Act. There was that word again. Soon, I began wondering which part of Seth is real and isn’t. I knew there was something deeper than that stupid player shit he had going on. And I knew that there was something wrong in his life—or at least something that had been wrong once and was never quite corrected. I wondered if he was acting right now —if this playful, fun Seth was real or not. “Uh-oh. Your brows are furrowed,” he said. “That’s your thinking face. What are you thinking of?” “You,” I replied, which wasn’t exactly a lie. His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Here I am sitting right next to you and your mind is still filled with thoughts of me. Gee, I’m touched.” “I’m only trying to figure you out,” I said. It was only just for a second, but I saw his face fall a little, as if he didn’t want me to know whatever it is he’s hiding. “What’s your secret, Everett?” I asked him. “Other than my feelings for you?” he said in an effort to change the topic. I would have questioned him further, but I noticed, for the first time, his eyes, failing to hide the little bit of panic that he must be feeling. He doesn’t go around putting me on the spot at random moments, so I backed off. Instead, I smiled at him and said, “Smooth, Everett. Real smooth.” His rigid shoulders relaxed and a wide goofy grin spread on his face. “Well, smooth is my middle name.

***CONTINUES*** But the smile didn’t fool me. His eyes, probably unintentionally, seemed thankful; grateful. And when I picked my fork up, he, just like he did on the day of the picnic, placed his hand on my head, ruffling my hair in a gesture that seemed both Seth-like and un- Seth-like—a silent thank you in the passing of understanding, words left unsaid. I wasn’t sure when, exactly, it began, but I knew I was curious about all of his secrets. When he was done making my hair look like a bird’s nest, he picked the guitar up again and said, “Hey, you play too, right? I saw a guitar in your room.” A moment of silence passed before I finally said, “I don’t.” I sighed. “I don’t play it, I mean.” By the way his face fell, I knew it wasn’t the reply he expected. “Oh. You don’t? Then… was the guitar for… him, by any chance?” The weight of the word him made the sentence seem so heavy. I let out an almost bitter laugh. “Who else?” I said. He was silent for a while. A pause, then he said, “Why didn’t you give it?” “I was supposed to give it to him,” I said. “A birthday present. The night he dumped me.” A pang of hurt washed over me as I recalled that night. It seemed so far away, so much like a surreal dream. Except it wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t even a nightmare. It was just reality. Nightmares—they end when you wake up, but reality exists in a way that none of us can truly ever escape. “Let’s give it to him,” he suddenly suggested. My head quickly snapped to his direction. “What?” “It’s goodbye,” he said. “Give the guitar to him. You can’t keep it there forever.” I knew he was right. I knew that that guitar can’t stay in my room forever, collecting dust as I refuse to get rid of it because it feels too much like getting rid of Cedric permanently. Seth was right about the guitar, but I wasn’t quite sure if I could do it. It seemed like something I could never do, some impossible act I can’t ever pull off. “I guess you can always sell it, but… I think it would be something like, Hey it was nice knowing you! Here’s to the past! Goodbye forever.” I remained silent, pushing the stuff on my plate as he looked at me in all seriousness. “It’s part of moving on,” he said, this time quietly. “The question is”—he gave me a sideways glance—“do you want to?” --- When I got home, the house was empty as usual. It felt so abandoned, as if the family who had lived here already left years ago. Only the traces of what used to be a happy family evidence that somebody occupied this house at one point in time—the picture frames hanging around the house, the books my father used to give her whenever he found something interesting. That’s the thing about my father. He was an avid reader. He lived at least half his life within the pages of a book. It was his only vice. While most men would go fool around with unbearably young and hot blonde secretaries, Mom’s only rival were the books. There were days when he would lock himself up in his office, finishing four books in a day. Mom and I would go to the mall and get ourselves new outfits. She would get my hair cut. We would watch a movie and spend the day without doing anything really productive. When we get back home, my dad would be finished with the books, and he’d have prepared dinner already. Even though he wasn’t a very good cook (he can manage to burn soup, of all things, until it’s nothing but charred remains of what would have been a delicious dish), none of us felt the need to complain. We were happy, my dad with his books, and me on a fun day with Mom. And though the day might have passed with us doing different things, the nights were always for the three of us, eating some burned dish, making jokes, Dad dropping a random quote from the books he’d read and playing Scrabble or chess or Snakes n’ Ladders.

***CONTINUES*** I was nine years old when cancer took him away from us. It was such a stupid, stupid reason for a person to die. I don’t remember much about the day he died, only that there was a lot of crying and hugging and I’m sorry. In fact, I don’t remember much about his last days at all, save for the image of him looking paler and thinner every day, trying to talk and crack a joke, trying to laugh at my stories, trying to stay awake as much as possible, but mostly just trying not to die. There was one night that Mom cried so hard it scared me. I brought a book to the hospital. It was one of his favorites, though right now I can’t seem to remember which of the dog-eared books it was. I pulled the seat next to his bed and said, “Look, Daddy. It’s your book.” This, I remember clearly. He had looked at me with dim eyes, almost already half- asleep, but they were shining with tears as he said, “Read it aloud. So I can hear.” I kept mispronouncing the words, even skipping the ones with too many letters. I messed up the lines. I kept stuttering as I stumbled past the words. But none of that seemed to matter. After a few minutes, just before Dad dozed off, he took my hand in his and said, “Great job, sweetie. That was the best version I’ve heard in my entire life.” And he didn’t just try to stay awake, didn’t just try to talk, didn’t just try to look me straight in the eye. What really made Mom cry so hard was when he tried to smile. It was the last time he smiled. It was so, so stupid. He didn’t smoke, hardly drank beer, didn’t even do anything that could ever harm his body. It was nothing but a bad mixture of genes and heredity, fucking up his life and his family’s life, leaving behind a dysfunctional mother who was never home and a nine-year-old girl who shut herself out of the world, trying to read the books her father used to read, having no idea what most of the words meant, as if reading them would bring him back, as if reading the words would bring the smile back. That was when Cedric came into the picture. When I was alone, antisocial, and mostly just sad. Cedric came along and became my friend. Then he said he liked me and we began to go out. He made everything seem all right. Only to tear it apart again. It seemed too much, too much, too much to bear so I quickly got out of the house. There were too many feelings coming from the memories. I needed to get out. I had no idea where I was going—just that I needed to go. I had to leave. It was suffocating. I just want to forget every fucking thing in the world. Letting go was always harder than holding on because most times, people are afraid to fall. I can’t seem to let go of all these things dragging me behind. I just want to lock everything up and store all these memories away, never to think or talk about them again. Before I knew it, I was at the local park, walking aimlessly in the dim orange glow of the streetlights. There were a few dog- walkers around and some couples probably making out in the dark. Few cars were parked and fewer people seemed to care. I’d just began regretting not bringing a jacket when a voice made me stop. “Kyla?”

I whipped around, my eyes wide. Without even turning around, I knew who it was, but I still found myself shaking my head as I confirmed my guess. What really surprised me, though, was the other person looking at me too. I looked at the man and then at the brown- haired woman who still looked pretty despite the darkness. The man was broad-shouldered and tall, looking a little uncomfortable and just a tad curious. In one hand, he was holding a leash and the other was linked with the woman’s. They both looked back at me. None of us said anything at first, but the woman opened her mouth as if to say something, to explain something, looking at me and then at the man she was holding hands with, as if she couldn’t quite find the right words to say. It was I who broke the silence first. Quietly, slowly, tentatively, I called her. “Mom.” The confusion came first, then the realization, then the angry words came as Mom tried to explain, tried to tell me, tried to make me understand. I knew I had to at least listen, but it suddenly felt too much to just be there. Maybe it was the fact that I was reminiscing about my father just a few minutes ago. Or maybe it was because I was still thinking of Cedric. Maybe it was the moon, hiding behind clouds, useless in the blackness of the night. Maybe it was all of these. It felt as if everything was out to get me, so I couldn’t hold back. I laughed at her, shouted at her, felt hurt because here I was thinking about Dad and here she was, out on a date with this man I’d never even seen. Twenty minutes later, I was on a bus heading nowhere, with nothing but my wallet and my cell phone and its almost dead battery. She tried to stop me from walking away, telling me to wait, she can explain, don’t you dare walk away, young lady. As if I could face her, as if I could even look at her, much less stay in the same house as her. Maybe I shouldn’t have fought with her. Maybe I should have just been mature about it. Already, I was regretting my decision, but not entirely. It’s just that sometimes, it felt so difficult. It’s not that I didn’t want her to go out with other people. I knew it was her right to do so and there was nothing wrong with going on a date with this man. But she didn’t even tell me. She didn’t even let me know that she was seeing somebody. Was she with him whenever she came home late? Was she out with him eating dinner as I stayed at home eating alone? Was she with him when I needed her most? Just where is she when I’m looking for her? After spending a few minutes on the bus, I got off at a random bus stop with a nearby convenience store. A few blocks down the road, there’s a music store. I got some of that horrible convenience store coffee and then headed to the music store. There weren’t much people in there, save for a punk-looking couple by the rock CDs aisle, a long-haired guy holding a Nirvana album and the slightly pudgy guy nearly dozing off at the cashier. One of the fluorescent lights seemed to be blinking on and off, as if it would just stop working any second. Cedric loved these music stores. “Did you know,” he would say, coming from a random aisle, holding an album from an underrated band, “that this band is one of the best? The best, I tell you,” with that cute grin of his. Thinking about him made the night so much worse. I thought back to the picnic I had with Seth, when he said that thing about forgetting my hatred for Cedric by redirecting my hatred to him instead. I guess that was what made me do it. Standing there in the music shop, too dull without Cedric telling me a trivia about this album or that one, sipping the horrible, watery coffee, I took out my almost-dying phone and dialed Seth Everett, the last person I would have ever turned to at times like this. He answered on the third ring. “Hey,” he said. Oh, god, what am I doing? I almost hung up, regretting that I’d even called him in the first place. It was one of those spur-of-the- moment decisions that I just didn’t think through. “Hello?” he repeated. Taking a deep breath, I finally said, “Seth?” “Uhh, yeah?” “Can I crash at your place tonight?”

I feel for her. Her mum is definetely not being a gud mother. U post this story really slow these days, I hope nothing is wrong and that u r fine.

Chapter Thirteen – It’s a Deal It took seven minutes for Seth and I (and the positively stoned cashier of the music store) to figure out where exactly I was (note to self: don’t get off at random bus stops), four minutes to explain the place to Seth, and twenty minutes for Seth to get here. The rain had become a steady downpour by the time the door swung open to reveal Seth Everett, half-drenched and slightly breathless. I was standing by one of the aisles, holding an Aerosmith album in my hand. Slowly, I set it back down and walked over to Seth, who was looking weirdly at me. “Will you tell me what happened?” he said. Scowling, I averted my gaze. “What happened?” “One does not simply call in the middle of the night for a fucking sleepover,” he said. “Well, no one had done that since Beatriz, anyway.” “First of all? Ohmygodno. I didn’t call you for whatever reasons Bianca did—“ “Beatriz,“ he interjected. “Whatever, who cares about whatshername. The point is, I just called you to find a place to crash, Everett.” I moved past another aisle and randomly checked on CDs. “I’m not one of your late- night booty calls.” “Yeah,” he said, nodding, “Poor you. There, there.” He followed me, patting my shoulder as if to comfort me. "Yeah, right.” I rolled my eyes. “Like that’s something I’d be sad about.” “You’re only saying that because we haven’t done anything yet.” I froze and gave him a WTF look. “Excuse me? Did I just hear you say ‘yet’?” He smirked. “So what if you did? In due time, you won’t be able to resist me.” “Oh, my god, I just threw up,” I told him flatly. Falling silent, we both just walked around the store quietly. There was a shift in his mood and the cocky, playful guy was gone. He was being serious again. This, I confirmed, when he said, “Well, what did happen, Kyla?” “Nothing.” “No, don’t tell me it’s nothing because we both know you suck at lying.” “I do not suck at lying.” “Well, that’s beyond the point,” he said, shaking his head. “I know you, Kyla. And I know that as much as you pretend to hate me, you actually don’t, but you still don’t want to even be near me if you don’t have to. What would make Kyla Evans want to sleep over at my house?” “Well, fine, then, I like you so I want to sleep over at yours. End of story. Happy now?” “Yeah and pigs could fly,” he said. “Just tell me what happened.” Sighing, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’d rather not.” He contemplated this for a moment. I know he gets all the shit between me and my mom. He understands at least that much. Also, he might possibly be going through the same stuff. But that, I’m not entirely sure of. Bottom-line is, he knows what it feels like to have something you don’t want to talk to and I was hoping he wouldn’t force me to talk. “Okay. Well.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Who was it that said, Oh, no. I don’t want to be around Seth Everett. Ewww,” he said in a creepy high- pitched and girly voice.

Eyes wide, I looked at him and half-yelled, “I do not speak like that. And my voice is definitely not like that either!” He shrugged. “Actually, it is.” I shook my head and scoffed. “Whatever.” “Hey, hey. Remember. You’re staying at my house and if you keep up that attitude, I’m afraid I’ll be more than happy to just leave you here.” Cue the Seth smile. The urge to roll my eyes was almost too much to resist but I tried my hardest to send him a sweet smile. I even batted my eyelashes at him for good measure. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Please, Mr. Everett, I have nowhere else to go.” “That’s more like it,” he said, smirking. “You should really become Little Miss Sunshine forever. Suits you a lot.” Glaring at him, I crossed my arms over my chest too, mirroring his stance. “Little Miss Sunshine? Really, Everett? Really?” “Well, aren’t you just a bundle of joy?” the asshole said as he looked at me the way one would nornally look at an infant. "Weirdo,” I muttered under my breath and shuddered. He looked around a little at the CDs before deciding he didn’t want anything and we finally got ready to leave. We went past the stoned cashier and pushed the door open. The rain was falling pretty heavily outside, something I failed to notice because the sound was muffled from the inside. His car was probably seven meters away and we both had no umbrellas. Great. “Remind me, why did you have to park so far from the store?” “Uhh, due to lack of better judgment?” He shrugged. Turning to face me, he smirked and said, “I should probably get the car and drive it closer here so you don’t get too wet…” He moved and posed in that way that people do when they’re preparing for a sprint. “But no. It’s too unfair. Why do I have to be the only one running through the rain and getting wet?” WTF? “What happened to the perfect little gentleman that charmed my mother?” He grinned. “Oh, you know. Twenty-first century. Gender- equality. Boys and girls are equal. All that shit and stuff.” Groaning, I rolled my eyes and mumbled something along the lines of Jerk. And bitch. And asshole. And, well, maybe other stuff too. He, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. He unlocked the doors with the… Ugh, what do you call that thing with buttons that you press and if you’re not too far, the car responds and beeps and—oh, never mind. “Race you!” he yelled before taking off with a sprint. I followed suit and ran on impulse. The rain was cold and relentless, immediately soaking through my clothes and filling up my shoes. God, I hate this freaking jerk. Seth, of course, got to the car first and was halfway shutting the door when I fumbled to open the passenger side door. It wouldn’t open, soaking me more as I stood there trying to open it. From the huge grin on Seth’s face, I knew—I just knew—that he did this on purpose. He somehow didn’t unlock this door and planned this from the very start. I glared at him and straightened up. “Go fuck yourself, Everett!” I yelled , though I was sure he couldn’t hear me, and I gave him the finger before walking away. God. I had had enough. Seth can fucking play these games when I am having one of the worst nights of my life. I kept walking, not even towards shelter but heading nowhere in particular, frustrated and pissed, unfazed by the fact that I am now soaked all over.

Oh! Continue nw

I could hear a door slamming shut and a shout, “Kyla!” I didn’t turn. I didn’t even stop. Screw Seth. Screw Mom. Screw everyone. “Kyla, wait!” “Leave me alone, you fucking bastard!” I shouted and hastened my pace. I couldn’t bring myself to run though. I felt so tired. “Hey, it was a joke! Kyla. Just stop! Look, I’m sorry!” “You should be!” I suddenly felt like I couldn’t even walk anymore. I stopped, crouching down, hugging my knees and burying my face on my knees. I hadn’t even realized that I’d began sobbing. Why on earth was I even crying? It just felt like the whole universe was out to get me. Thinking about my dad, about Cedric, and finding out that Mom had a boyfriend and fuck it all but I was just tired of having to think about all of this. Seth must have reached me by now, stopping just behind me. I could feel him, even without looking. “Hey. I’m sorry.” I ignored him, trying to stop crying. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I only just realized how cold it was because his hand seemed so warm. I looked up momentarily to glare at him. He was crouching next to me now, half-hugging me closer. “You’re a dick,” I said. “I know.” I looked away and tried not to sob. For a long moment, we were both silent. Finally, he moved and stood up, walking a few paces forward and running his hands through his hair. With his back to me, he said, “I messed up, didn’t I?” He turned and walked back to me. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “If you don’t move away right now, I will kick your balls.” Leaning a little, he carefully took my arms and helped me stand up. For some reason, I obeyed. “I was just joking,” he said. “I’m really sorry.” We were completely soaked by now, dripping wet and feeling stupid. To his credit, he seemed to be really sorry. “You suck.” “I didn’t think it through.” He looked down. “I know I was a jerk and it was stupid and childish and please don’t kick my balls. I just didn’t… I didn’t think you would be that mad. I didn’t think you would… end up crying.” I nodded, keeping it stiff, letting him know that while I was fine, I hadn’t accepted his apology. He stepped closer, placing one hand on my shoulder and the other on my face. He tucked some of my wet hair behind my ear and tilted my head so I could look at him. I made sure to glare. “Are you okay?” I gave him another brief nod. He looked at me for a long while. We must look crazy, standing in the rain like idiots. I averted my gaze but I knew he was still staring at me. After what seemed like too long, I started shivering. Now that I've calmed down, I noticed how cold it actually was. He must have noticed because he finally moved away, clearing his throat. “Come on. Let’s head back to the car. This time, no jokes. I promise.” This time, we weren’t running. And this time, he let me walk first, trailing silently behind me. This time, he opened the door for me. --- We pulled up in front of his house. The whole car ride was silent, though I could feel him trying to read me and why I reacted that way to some stupid prank.

As I started to calm down, I was beginning to realize how whiny and childish I was, getting pissed just because of a little joke. It was absolutely embarrassing. Seth, however, seemed to feel really bad about it, if it wasn’t obvious already. I knew he didn’t mean it, but I couldn’t help myself from being angry at him. Or maybe I was angry at myself. Whatever. I was angry, period. He turned the engine off and we both got out of the car, not even caring that the rain was still falling pretty hard. It’s not like we weren't already soaked in the first place. “No one’s home,” he said as he fumbled for the keys in his pocket. "You often throw out a lot of parties,” I said. “I take it no one’s home that often.” He shrugged. “Well, yeah.” But there was something about the way he said it that made me think it’s not just a simple well, yeah. “Are your parents still together?” I asked. He pushed the door open and turned the light on inside. Giving me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he replied, “What do you think?” For that, I had no answer. His house seemed so different without the sweaty people dancing and making out to some crap music. It actually seemed homey. I never realized that the walls were a nice shade of brown. It was kind of hard to appreciate something when a bunch of high school students are trashing the place. I could hardly even recognize it. We stepped into the living room and stood there in silence, almost awkwardly. “So, umm…” he started saying. “I can lend you some stuff. The bathroom’s upstairs. You should dry off now. You’re freezing.” “Whose fault do you think is it, Einstein?” I tried not to snarl at him; “tried” being the operative word. It took me about thirty minutes to finish taking a shower. The hot water felt like heaven. What surprised me, though, wasn’t the fact that Seth has his own bathroom in his bedroom. It wasn’t even the fact that it was relatively clean for a boy’s bathroom. What caught my attention was the fact that while I was in the middle of showering, Seth knocked. “Don’t ask if you could join me, dumbass,” I told him even before he could say a word. “Really, Evans? Really?” I could almost imagine the look on his face as he was saying this. “You really think I’m going to ask you that?” "Yep. I really do,” I answered point-blankly. “Well, no. I just knocked to tell you that the, umm, clothes are here outside the door and that I will be in the living room so you can change.” Oh. “Um, okay.” I heard the muffled sound of the bedroom door shutting close and I assumed he was on his way to the living room. Just to be safe, though, I still shouted, “Hey, Jerk, are you out there?” about seven times as I wrapped the towel (which I triple- checked to make sure it was clean and unused before accepting it from Seth because, yeah, I just trust him too much) around me. I carefully opened the door by an inch to survey the room and was actually surprised to see that the coast was clear. On the bed was a plastic bag and a bundle of what looked like clothes. A shirt and some shorts, I think. Inside the plastic bag were—you guessed it —underwear. Fuck that guy. There was even a receipt that proved the stuff was newly bought just today. I blinked.

Did he just go somewhere to buy underwear? A guy? Moreover, Seth Everett? God, I cannot help but blush and laugh at the same time as I try to imagine Seth paying for these over the counter. He was probably embarrassed and his ears must have been a bright shade of red as he handed the bra and panties to the—oh wait, no. He probably would have flirted with the female cashier and managed to get some girl's number while buying underwear. Still, though, I couldn’t believe it. Don’t get me wrong: I still triple-checked to make sure they really were new (they were) before putting them on, feeling awkward. I didn’t like the feeling that he knew exactly what underwear I was wearing. I shuddered at the thought. Dressed in a loose gray shirt of his and some jersey shorts, I got out of his room and found him silently writing in the living room. He had his back to me and was probably absorbed in whatever he was doing because he didn’t notice me approaching at all. I peeked over his shoulder to look at the piece of paper he was scribbling on and was surprised to see a pencil sketch of a flower (was it a lily?) that was actually pretty great. “Wow,” I couldn’t help but say. He jumped a little and immediately scrambled to hide the sketch. He stood up and hid it behind him. “Hi—I mean —hello—I mean, don’t just scare people like that.” Was he blushing? Oh my god, he was blushing. “You draw?” I asked him. “What? Pssh. No,” he said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. And he says I’m a bad liar. “Okay, yeah, I do,” he gave up and sat back down on the couch. He flipped the sketchpad over so that I couldn’t see it. “It’s not much.” “You’re actually pretty good,” I told him and sat on the couch as well. It was pretty comfortable, which was something I failed to notice because half- stoned drunk guys keep hitting on me. “Thanks for the, uhhh, underwear.” “God, you owe me for that,” he said. “Do you have any how Patrice looked at me when I bought those?” My brows furrowed in confusion. “Patrice?” “Oh. The cashier. She gave me her number,” he said and winked. I rolled my eyes. I knew it. “I would like to meet this girl.” “Why?” “So that I could tell her that she made the biggest mistake of her life.” Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Now, now. Don’t be jealous of cute, little Patrice.” “You wish.” I tucked my feet in front of me and hugged my knees together. “I would never be jealous of some girl over you. Ever.” “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you like me?” “Wow,” I said. “First off, I don’t like you. Second, I’m still mad at you for earlier.” But I wasn’t. I wasn’t that mad anymore (I mean, hey, the dude bought me some underwear) and I hate to admit it, but I was beginning to not hate him. When I was with Cedric, Seth Everett was just one of those cocky, arrogant popular bastards who think they run the world. While he was far from perfect and was definitely still cocky, arrogant and popular, Seth was quite okay.

“When you started crying,” he suddenly said, breaking the silence that settled over us, “you scared the shit out of me.” My shoulders tensed at the mention of earlier. “I know you’re not the type to cry about something.” He wasn’t looking at me, fumbling with the pencil he was holding. “I know you and I also happen to know that you hate showing weakness in front of other people. So… Yeah.” He looked up from the pencil to look me at me. “You really did scare the shit out of me.” “It’s just…” I paused to find the right words to say, but I couldn’t quite think of anything. “I just had a rough night.” Tentatively, he asked, “Do you, um, want to talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he said, lying back against the cough. “I’ll tell you if you tell me your secret,” I said. His eyebrows rose. “I don’t have—” “Yeah, right. Don't deny it. You owe me at least this much for pissing me off earlier.” I could see him contemplating this as he sat there quietly, weighing the odds, just like I was. The truth was that I offered this you tell me and I’ll tell without actually thinking that he would agree. I’ve seen the look on his face whenever I tried asking him and I knew without a doubt that he wants to keep his secrets. So imagine my surprise when he finally let out a long breath after a while and turned completely to face me, saying “Deal.”

Waiting oooo.... @Shaxee what abt "d gal he never noticed" nd ermmm "dating d bad gal" whatz happening na?

Chapter Fourteen There were a lot of things that could go wrong on a rainy night at 11:38 p.m. For example, the lights could go off as the electricity went out after a devastating crack of thunder that might have made me squeal a like a little girl and Seth act all macho and shit. Second, Seth might have a “bright idea” (I am not even kidding, he actually said those words) and bring out some bottles of beer to drink in candlelight. I never really liked the taste of beer, nor did I want to get drunk while huddled around a candle. The only thing missing was a Ouija board and we’d look like a legit cult. Third, though most times I’d prefer to stay sober (especially when I know I’m with a perverted guy in a dark room), this time, I want to get a little alcohol in my system, knowing that we will be talking about things that both of us didn’t want to talk about. Seth came back to the living room from the kitchen with two bottles of cold beer, skillfully held in only one hand and a bag of chips on the other. He handed me one of the beers and said, “So, how are we going to do this?” Taking the beer from him, I shrugged and said, “I really don’t know.” “How about we both get ten questions to ask each other?” He settled back into the seat beside me on the couch, the distance between our shoulders and thighs seemingly too big in the confines of the dark living room. “What if I don’t want to answer a question?” I asked him. He thought about this for a while. I could almost see the gears in his head working to come up with a reasonable solution for this. He must also be thinking about himself and how he might not want to answer some of my questions. When it was clear he wasn’t about to answer soon, I said, “How about we get to pass up on some questions? Maybe two questions. We can choose not to answer two questions.” Looking at me as he considered the idea, he nodded, “Okay. But we get to ask an extra question for every pass used. Like, if you choose to pass up on a question, I can ask you a different question. Maybe we can have two passes, but for every pass we use, we get another question.” “Okay,” I said. “I’ll go first.” He took a swig of his beer and grimaced a little, wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Go ahead.” “Uhh.” Well, this was harder than I thought. For some reason, I couldn’t quite think of anything to ask him. Funny how I couldn’t come up with a question just when he actually gave me the chance. The thing was, I didn’t have anything better than “What are you hiding, Seth?” and it didn’t seem like a good enough question that would get me a reply, so I didn’t ask that. Instead, I looked hard at him and began with, “The night at the party. You were about to offer me some beer but when you found out that I was driving home, you didn’t want me to drink anything. Why is that?” Tugging at his ear, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Um, who in their right mind would let a person drink if he knows that she'll be driving?” “Just answer the question, Seth. Don’t play smarty-pants with me because I saw how you reacted that night. It was the first time I realized you were hiding something." I leveled my gaze with his. "So, what was it? Did someone you know, I dunno, die in a car accident or something because he was drunk?” He took a big gulp of his beer, tipping his head back. “It was two years ago.” Looking down at his hands, he refused to meet my gaze. I could see the hesitation in his actions. Whatever secrets he was hiding, he wanted them to be kept that way. I was almost sure he wouldn’t answer, but then he continued, “My big sister died in a car accident.”

Stunned, I couldn’t think of anything to reply. “Oh. Oh—I’m—Um.” Now he turned to face me, giving a wry smile. “She was in college. She and her boyfriend were driving home from a party and—well, that was it. Nineteen years of excelling in school and getting straight As and beating the shit out of everyone who made fun of me in elementary —all gone in one loud crash.” God, I never knew. I didn’t even know he had a sister. “She was living in New York with my dad at that time and… Well, shit happens.” His beer was mostly gone now. “My turn.” I was itching to ask my next question, but just to be fair, I bit it back and braced myself for his. “What happened tonight?” Looking at my beer, I shook it a little and let the liquid swirl inside. “I saw my mother at the park. She was holding hands with this guy and —I don’t know. I freaked, okay? I know I’m acting like a hormonal thirteen year- old girl but—it’s just—I don’t know. She’s never home and it sucks.” “I know,” he said. “My mother is the same.” “Is it my turn now?” I said. “Sure.” He took the bag of chips from the table and ripped it open, offering some to me, to which I took a few. “You said your dad lives in New York. Are your parents separated? And if not, then what’s the deal?” He looked me in the eye. Something about his gaze made me want to squirm in my seat. I almost took the question back because the look on his face made it seem like a personal question. “You can use your pass if you want to,” I told him. He shook his head. I waited for him to say something else, but was too impatient, so I said, “No, you’re not using your pass?” “No. My parents are not separated.” His voice was quiet but his words were heavy, piercing through the silence like sharp blades. “And the deal is, when my father got a promotion for his job, he wanted all of us to move together. My mom didn’t want to leave her job and so we decided to live separately, but we were still one big happy family.” “And then?” “When Sam died, she and dad started fighting. They’re not yet separated, in that way, up till now. But after the accident, Mom started to blame Dad.” He finished his beer in one last swig. “And now, Dad still believes that he and Mom are still fine but Mom is going out with someone right now. And Dad doesn’t know.” I stared at him in stunned silence. “Such a bitch, right?” he said with a pained smile on his face. Oh god. I never knew. “I’ve been wanting to tell Dad, but I don’t know. For some reason, I can’t. And I guess deep down, I know Mom has to be the one telling him everything. I once asked Mom to please, please just tell Dad. She’d always said she will, but she never does and it’s killing me. It’s just so hard. I should tell Dad, I know that, but telling him seems like betraying Mom.” “Your dad has no idea? At all?” He shielded his eyes away from mine. “I’ve been consumed with so much guilt, but I can’t find any courage to actually tell him anything. Mom talked to me back then, saying she wants to do it herself, but—I can’t stand it. It’s like I’m stuck between the two and some sort of string connecting the three of us together might suddenly break if I did anything.”

Lips parted, I couldn’t think of anything to say. There was something about the way he couldn’t look at me that finally showed Seth in his vulnerable state. And it scares me—to think that this guy, who had just played a stupid prank on me, who agreed to help me with my Cedric issues, who bought some underwear for me to wear, would be here looking like a helpless child. “It’s just…” He trailed off. “Fucked up,” I finished for him. There was a moment where both of us couldn’t quite think of anything else to say, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. We both sat there in silence as we took this information in, conscious of the fact that here we were, worse than being stark naked, revealing things we preferred to be kept hidden. “It’s your turn,” I finally broke the silence. “To ask a question, I mean.” “Right. Okay. Um.” He turned a little so he was looking directly at me. “Where’s your Dad?” And so I told him. I told him about my father and how his death had affected me and Mom. I told him how I watched my father die, day by day, and how Cedric came into the picture just when my heart was in pieces. Even simply saying the words out loud brought tears to my eyes. “The thing is,” I said, holding back a sob, “when I lost Dad, I lost Mom too.” “Hey.” He put down his beer on the table and for a second, a panicked expression crossed his face. But then he reached out to me and pulled me closer. “Hey, I’m… I’m sorry.” I hadn’t realized how cold it was without the heater on until he pressed my head against his chest, his heart right next to my ear, beating steadily in a rhythmic pattern that was both soothing and unsettling. “I shouldn’t have asked.” One of his hands was wrapped around my shoulders and the other was gently running through my hair. “That sucks. I’m sorry.” We both fell silent again. Fuck. I should stop crying. I carefully pushed myself away from him and dried my tears, feeling stupid that here I was, crying for the second time tonight. It took a while to compose myself as Seth just sat there, letting me calm down. The last time I ever told somebody about this, I was with Cedric. Never did I think that I would end up retelling this little piece of my past on a rainy midnight to an almost-stranger. But here I was. And just to be honest? I was more than just completely fine with it. As much as I wouldn’t want to admit it, I didn’t have Cedric and Hail anymore, the only two friends I’d ever had ever since my father died. The closest thing I have to a friend is Seth Everett. I wasn’t sure if Seth was feeling the same. Being popular probably came with a lot of friends, but from the looks of it, it didn’t seem as if any of his friends knew him behind his mask. Maybe I was also his only almost-friend, who can share all this shit wedged between the cracks of our pasts. I never thought I’d ever tell somebody other than Cedric and Hail about these things. It was always just the two of them and they were enough. We had each other. They knew my secrets and I knew about theirs too. I knew that Hail is an illegitimate child. I knew that Cedric was— I stopped short upon the realization. Oh, my god.

“Seth?” I said. He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. “This is the third one.” I tried not show any emotion on my face. “Why does Cedric hate you so much?” God, I hope I’m not right. I hope it’s just a coincidence. Maybe there was something about the way I looked at him, but judging from the look on his face, he must have picked up on the hint that I might have an idea. “Cedric hates me,” he paused, running his fingers through his hair and making an expression that made it seem as if saying the words physically pained him, “because my mother is having an affair with his dad.”

Na wa oooo.. So we shld jez 4gt abt the gal he never noticed nd dating d bad gal??? U shldnt have start d story when u knw u wont complete it

nyc one

Tenniebenson i'll surprise you dont worry, just chill with us

Chapter Fifteen You know those moments when it seems as if a huge tidal wave was coming directly at you, but you can’t move away and it hits you full in the face, the water rising over your head until you’re completely submerged, grasping for oxygen. That’s how I felt after Seth told me about his secret. I’d been somehow expecting it, but it still came off as a big surprise that made me freeze all over. “Oh, my god,” I gasped out. I couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of my nose as the information threatened to give me a headache. “Yeah.” He looked down at his now-empty bottle of beer. “All this time, I couldn’t figure out why Cedric hates you and I just—it never occurred to me that it could be something so serious.” He didn’t say anything else, so I took his silence as a chance to think things over. I’d always thought it was simply like a childhood thing or someone bullying the other. I never thought it went deeper than that; I’d never expected it would be something like a twisted family thing. “Could it have something to do with why he broke up with me?” I suddenly found myself asking. I felt Seth’s shoulders become rigid. I looked over at him. There was a surprisingly blank look on his face. “Do you, uhh…” He trailed off, placing his free hand at the back of his neck. “This is my third question. Do you still love Cedric?” Saying “no” felt like lying, but saying “yes” felt stupid. It was one of those questions where you know the right answer but still felt like giving the wrong one. Still loving Cedric shouldn’t even be an option—he dumped me without even giving explanation whatsoever. Just “goodbye” and it’s done —gone in an instant, all those years of being best friends and then being more than just that. He took it all and left me with a goodbye that didn’t even feel necessary. He didn’t even tell me about his dad’s affair with Seth’s mom. He’d told me he was having problems coping with his Dad’s new girlfriend, but never said anything about that “girlfriend” being a married woman. We used to tell each other everything. As best friends, we had this unspoken agreement that one should never keep secrets. I wonder, when did we stop being best friends? Did our relationship as boyfriend-girlfriend ruin our friendship? “I don’t know,” I finally answered. “It’s like—I keep holding on to this image of him. I want him back in my life because—because my whole life, he was there with me. I can hardly even remember a time when he wasn’t a constant presence in my life.” “He’s an asshole, Ky. You can do better than him,” he told me, his eyes lidded as he stared at me from under his lashes. “He’s not an asshole.” I couldn’t help but feel defensive. It was something close to a reflex. I got his back and he got mine. We used to, anyway. “He’s one of the sweetest, kindest guys ever and I don’t want to judge him just because he dumped me. But yeah, if it makes the two of us feel better, he’s a fucking asshole.” The hand on the back of his neck started to move towards his hair, running his fingers through his sandy brown locks. “So you do still love him.” Biting my lip, I let my hair fall in such a way that it served as a curtain, shielding my face away from his unyielding gaze. “This… thing we’re doing. Are we really doing it for revenge?” There was a noticeably serious pause before he continued in a quieter voice, “Are we doing this so you can get him back?”

“I’ve told you before—I don’t want to want him back,” I said. “It’s just —I can’t completely cut him off.” “Just fall in love.” My eyes widened, completely taken by surprise; not with the sentence itself, but with the way he said it. His electric blue eyes were staring deeply into mine, his voice somber. The expression on his face was completely serious. “Look for somebody else you can fall in love with. You don’t have to forget Cedric. Forcing yourself to forget somebody is a sign that you’re not moving on. Moving on is not forgetting—moving on is being able to remember without feeling awful about it.” I looked at him. “As much as you might want to, you will never erase Cedric from your memories. He won’t just magically disappear from your life. You have to deal with the pain of knowing him and be able to live with it. Let someone else in.” Another question had crawled its way into my mind. There was something about the way he talked, the way he looked at me as he told me these things, the way he hung his head as if he was letting everything else take its own course and the way his eyes held mine, like offering himself in his most vulnerable state. “Seth?” “Yeah?” “Have you ever fallen in love?” “Oh.” “What ‘oh’?” I prompted, eager to hear his answer, for some reason I couldn’t quite explain. I guess it was just that Seth was a player, someone who never took girls seriously. The idea of him being in love, really in love, was so unfamiliar that I even refused to acknowledge it. A look crossed his face —one that was bordering on hesitant— and it was all it took for me to know the answer. That simple pause, that little moment when he blinked thrice without saying anything, the way he looked away from my gaze. “Oh my god,” I said. “What happened? Who was she?” “I…” He trailed off. “I won’t answer any questions about this particular topic.” I blinked. “What? That’s —that’s against the rules.” “No. I’m using my pass —on everything related to this topic,” he said, squirming a little on his seat. “Seth freaking Everett had fallen in love before,” I couldn’t help muttering out loud, shaking my head slightly. “Who would have thought?” “Yeah, well…” He scratched the back of his head, his eyes looking straight ahead. “I’m just human, after all.” For some unexplainable reason, we decided to stop the game. We still kept count with the questions (I still have six and he still has seven) but we were suddenly both too tired to continue. There was something exhausting about baring yourself that way— showing someone your secrets; being “human,” like Seth had said. Being human was exhausting. All the shit about living and falling in love and getting hurt, being stupid, making choices, feeling happy —“being human” is all about these things. No one could ever argue that this wasn’t tiring. Sometimes, you just want to crawl in bed and sleep and let go of all these things, forget about life and every little thing that comes with it. Apparently, Seth had the same idea. Just as I was tucking myself into bed (in the guest room), the door creaked open in that scary way only horror movies ever do, revealing Seth Everett holding a pillow. “I”—he raised his hand, index finger pointing at himself—“am sleeping here.”

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What the fuck? “Go to sleep, Seth,” I said. “Exactly.” He closed the door behind him and made his way closer to the bed, jumping onto the mattress and making himself comfortable. Gaping at him, I pushed myself up from the bed. “What do you think you’re doing, Everett?” “Relax.” He put his two hands behind his head and stared straight at the ceiling. “I’m not going to do anything.” “You’re drunk. Go away.” “I’m not,” he said. “It was just one beer.” “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I tried pushing him off the bed, planting my palms squarely on his side and pushing with all my might. He wasn’t budging anytime soon. “Look. I’m not going to do anything.” He took both my hands in his and forced me to back down. “I’m just sleeping here, that’s all.” I pulled my hands away from his grip. “Then let me sleep elsewhere.” “Nope. Unless you want to sleep out on the sidewalk.” Taking a pillow, I put it over my face and groaned, the sound muffled. Outside, the rain was falling hard, the pitter-patter on the rooftop occasionally joined by a crack of thunder. “I swear, Everett, if you try to sexually harass me, I won’t hesitate to kick your balls.” He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.” “Whatever. I’m going to sleep while trying to convince myself that you’re not really here and this is just a bad dream.” I settled into the pillows and curled up on my side, my back facing him. I pulled the blankets tighter around me. “My sister and I used to be really close. This used to be her room, you know.” I blinked, resisting the urge to look over at him to see the expression on his face. I didn’t turn, instead saying, “It doesn’t seem much like a girl’s room.” “She used to be boyish when she was in high school. She only started caring about being girly and shit when she went to college, but she had always been pretty. We’d changed this room a lot, though.” I could almost imagine how he looks like at the moment. “I guess it’s been a while since I thought about Sam this way. There was one time during grade school. You know Steve Whatshisface, with the uni-brow?” “Um, yeah?” I furrowed my brows as I tried to recall Steve, whose last name was a mystery but the uni-brow really made it easier. He was one of those big, pudgy kids who liked giving wedgies to unfortunate souls. “He used to follow me around to bully me up until third grade. One day, he was just about to take my lunch when Sam showed up. She wasn’t much bigger than him but she still stood between me and that bastard, arms crossed. When Steve tried to punch her, she grabbed his hand and bit him. Hard.” He chuckled, a familiar sound that somehow sounded so foreign. “The bullying ended. Sam pretty much scared him off.” “Huh,” I said, unable to think of anything else. “She was a good person. She always has been.” His voice was quieter now, somehow sleepier. “It sucks how bad things happen to everyone, even the good ones.” “Do you miss her?”

“Are you kidding? I’d give anything—anything at all—if she could just be here, biting the shit out of everyone’s arms.” I couldn’t imagine Seth as a skinny third-grader, being bullied and protected. To think that there was a time he wasn’t so cocky and arrogant. “It’s hard,” I said. “Having someone taken away like that.” “Must be harder having to watch someone die without being able to do anything,” he said. “Maybe it’s all the same.” I stifled a yawn, the rough night finally getting to me. “Permanently losing someone, be it instantly or slowly—it’s all the same. They’re just gone. An accident or cancer—either way, having someone you love taken away from you hurts like a bitch.” “Maybe.” I could feel my eyes closing now, my eyelids getting heavier. I loved being able to sleep like this—when you can’t help but sleep, when you don’t have to lie in bed awake, thinking of all the things that make us human, trying to sleep but not quite being able to, forcing your consciousness to shut down even when it doesn’t want to. I liked falling asleep this way—when your consciousness shuts down by itself. “Seth?” “Yeah?” “Thank you,” I said, my eyes shutting close almost involuntarily. I heard him say “anytime” as the sounds around me dulled, freeing myself from thoughts of being human along with every other thing that came with it, falling asleep in that way that only nights like this could ever bring. --- “So let me get this straight”—he shoved another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth—“you still haven’t returned any of your mother’s calls?” I looked away. My phone had been turned off since yesterday, but I knew my mother and I knew she’d been trying to call me ever since I stormed off last night. He sighed. “If you don’t want to call her, then I will.” “Don’t,” I said quickly. “Kyla,” he said, pointing his fork at me, “letting her know you’re safe doesn’t mean that you’re ready to make it up to her. I’ll talk to her. It’s just… better than her thinking that you’re laying on a ditch at some deserted highway.” I grumbled under my breath as I sipped on my juice, not exactly agreeing nor disagreeing to his idea. I knew, grudgingly, that he was right about this and arguing with him would only be useless, but some childish part of me wants to stop him from calling up my mother. Establishing communication with her would only make her feel like I’m fine with the way things are. Letting her know that I was safe and sound would only make it seem as if I still care about being tethered to her. “Relax,” he said, standing up from the table and actually abandoning his food for a while, which was a miracle in itself, considering the way he had been eating since a half-hour ago. He took the seat beside me as he used his own cell phone to dial my mother’s. I pushed the food around my plate as I waited for the call to connect, watching Seth pressing the phone against his ear in my peripheral vision. Moments later, he said, “Hi, good morning.” He paused, listening to the next line. “This is Seth. Seth Everett?” Placing a hand on top of my head, he sent me a look that said It’ll be fine. “Yeah, that’s me. Yes, Ma’am… Uh-huh… As a matter of fact”—he met my gaze, as if to make sure I was all right with this, so I gave him a little half-hearted nod —“yes, Kyla’s with me at the moment. She contacted me last night and she stayed the night over.”

I closed my eyes, setting my fork down and planting my elbow onto the table so I could rest my forehead on my hand. God, way to get a headache so early in the morning. I could imagine Mom from the other line, the worry lines clearly etched onto her face, probably shouting at Seth at the moment as she said stuff about girls, boys, sleeping under the same roof and all this bullshit that parents think they should say but really, what the fuck do they know? Sure, they were once teenagers too, but times change and people change and the norms of society change. I can't see why adults fail to see what this is the twenty-first century and whether they like it or not, teenagers have a mind of their own. “I’m sorry, Ma’am… Yes, yes, I am completely aware of this.” His hand trailed from the top of my head to the tips of my long, dark hair. “Yes, Ma’am… She is all right and—oh. Um…” The sudden change in his tone made me reopen my eyes and look over. “Kyla, do you want to talk to your mother?” The look on my face must have already been enough, but I still shook my head twice. “I—I don’t think she wants to do so, yet. Yes, Ma’am… Don't worry. I'll try to convince her. Yes… I will let her know.” He ended the call, taking a deep breath before letting go of my hair and facing me completely. “Sooooo… she sounded angry at first.” Rolling my eyes, I picked my fork up again and straightened up. “Yeah, because I totally care about that.” “Well, you know, after talking for a while, she eventually loosened up and she was obviously, obviously very worried.” I scoffed. “I don’t care, okay? God.” “Well, I think”—he stood up from the chair beside me to go back to the one across me, where his food was still waiting for him to come back—“that you actually do care, but you just don’t want to admit it.” “I don’t.” “I’m really getting tired of this lying game, Evans. You know I always know when you’re lying or not.” It was, unfortunately, true. Evidently, he had always called on my lies, as if he knew me so much. Every time I try to lie, it’s like he knows and he won’t let me get away with it. It was so unfair—how he could do this when I am always just trying to blindly grasp his secrets and his past. I thought back to last night, when he told me that he had fallen in love before—some distant part of his life that he didn’t seem to want to bring up again. It was so unfair how it seems as if he knows me inside-out and I don’t even know anything about this part of his life. “Kyla, can I ask you a favor?” “If you’re going to make me cook more eggs for you again,” I said, “then no.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Okay, so maybe I might have thought about that, but that’s not it.” He took another bite of his food, taking his time to chew. I swear he even enjoyed watching me squirm as I waited for this “favor” of his. Jerk. “What is it?” I snapped. He swallowed and then picked up his glass of juice, a faint smile on his face as I continued to glower at him. Finally, he set the now empty glass back on the table and looked me square in the eye. “Can I introduce you to my mother?”

lovely

Chapter Sixteen You would think that I, Kyla Evans, would know better than to agree with Seth Everett’s surprising proposal as we ate breakfast, but instead I looked at him and blinked stupidly. “Say what?” I couldn’t help but say, eyebrows raised as I watched him carefully, half-expecting a punch-line. But no. Seth just sat there, eating his scrambled eggs innocently as if he hadn't just asked me such an out-of-place question. I watched as he chewed, one hand reaching for the ketchup as he put some more on the plate. “Seth, what did you just say?” He finally looked up from his food and shrugged. “In exchange for me letting you sleep here and charming your mother so much that she didn’t demand for you to go home right this instant”—he grinned—“Do me a favor and meet my mother.” “You said that earlier,” I said smugly, fighting the urge to glare at him. “About the eggs.” Which he did. When I woke up earlier, half- expecting Seth to have played a prank on me, I was surprised to find that he was already out in the kitchen, digging through the cupboards. When he saw me, his face brightened up as if he had this great idea. Then he said, “In exchange for me letting you stay the night and not drawing on your face while you were sleeping, do me a favor and cook breakfast.” Now, though, he just shrugged and gave me a passing stare. “Well, you still owe me.” I was seriously wishing I could rewind time because calling him last night was a really, really bad idea. “You’re a dick,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. He grinned. “Aw, come on, Evans. It’s just my mom.” “Why would you want me to meet your mother?” I said, giving him my best WTF face. “Okay, well, she’s actually…” He squirmed, as if looking for the right word, “concerned. About my, err, dating habits.” My eyebrows rose. “Dating habits?” I repeated. He ducked his head as he flushed, “Hey, Mom’s words, not mine. Anyways, she thinks I should stop sleeping around and get myself a serious girlfriend. I already told her that I am seeing someone at the moment, but she wouldn’t believe me.” “If I were her, I wouldn’t believe you either,” I said. “Hey!” he said, sticking his tongue out at me. “But still—look. I am sort of seeing you right now and I just want her to get off my case. So you should meet her.” “What, like, right now? When she gets home?” Looking down at my clothes, his shirt and shorts, I knew whatever first impression I might imprint on her wouldn’t exactly be good. “Well, it doesn’t have to be now, but… she’s sort of, umm, arranging blind dates for me?” he said, this time looking irritated. I blinked. “Blind”—I stifled a snicker—“date?” He glared at me. I couldn’t hold my laughter anymore and I laughed to his face, relishing on his irritated glare. It was just so funny—Seth on a blind date. “I’m serious,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now I really don’t want to help you,” I told him. “I would probably even secretly spy on you while you’re on your blind date.” “Like you could sit through a whole night with me having a good time with another girl. You’d be burning in jealousy.”

Rolling my eyes, I exhaled and shook my head. “Yeah, only in your wildest dreams.” “You. Like. Me,” he said. “You wish.” He stared hard at me. For some reason, I couldn’t seem to look away, held by this mysterious gaze of his. And then, he grinned. Heat rose to my cheeks and I was suddenly looking everywhere but him. I stood up from my seat—the chair irritably grinding against the floor—and immediately turned away to hide my blush. What the fuck is wrong with him? More importantly, what’s wrong with me? I fumbled for something to say, feeling the silence pressing against me. “When’s your mother coming home?” An audible sigh. “She’s away at the moment.” “Away?” “Haven’t I told you before? Mom’s a journalist. She often goes away to cover some events and stuff.” I turned to him. “Is that why you can throw a lot of parties?” “I guess?” he replied. “So when is she coming back?” I asked, trying to be subtle about it. But the truth was, I was getting desperate here. I really didn’t want to go home yet, so despite the fact that I never ever would have considered staying the night here had it not been for dire circumstances, I needed to stay here for a little while. He looked at me. “Your mother will be worried,” he said, already reading my mind before I could even find a good way to put my thoughts into words. “She can screw herself,” I said. “Or screw that boyfriend of hers, anyway.” The look he was giving me made me squirm. His blue eyes held mine as if he could see right through me. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk things out with her?” “Not yet,” I replied, voice quiet. For a long while, he considered this in silence, seemingly deep in thought. I slumped, already dreading his answer. He must be thinking about ways to kick me out of his house and manhandle me to shove me right back to my house. Finally, he sighed. “She’ll be back in three days.” I couldn’t help it—really, I just couldn’t—but I perked up almost immediately, my shoulders lifting and eyes widening, lips automatically pulling back into a grin. “Thank you so much.” He eyed me, apparently just as weirded out as I am with my perky self. He blinked, lifting his eyebrows. “You’re ecstatic. Are you sure you’re not just using your mom as an excuse to live under the same roof as me?” I rolled my eyes. “I just threw up in my mouth.” Shaking his head, he chuckled and sent me that Seth Everett smile. “Now, there’s the Kyla I know, with such hurtful words you wield like blades.” “The hell?” I said. “See? My point, exactly.” He pointed his index finger at me. “You can stay here—if you agree to meet my mother.” Meeting his mother just because I didn’t want to meet mine. Such irony. I leveled my gaze with him and finally said, “Okay.” “So…” he said. I gave him a questioning look.

“Want to take a bath together?” he asked, quickly followed by a mischievous grin. “You could scrub my back and —” Groaning, I threw my hands up in the air and made an exit, leaving him (still eating!) in the dining room, his laughter following me until I reached the living room, almost mocking. God, this was going to be a loooong day. Oh, wait, scratch that— three days. I’ll be staying here with him for three days. Gee, could things get any better? --- The bush we'd chosen to hide in was surprisingly itchy, which was something I never would have known had it not been for this particular reason. I hung my head low, crouching so I could stay hidden and can still watch the house carefully. “Remind me,” Seth said from beside me, vigorously scratching his right arm. “Why are we spying on your own house like thieves?” “Because I need to grab my stuff,” I answered. “I can’t let you buy me some underwear again. God, that was humiliating.” “Buying underwear is a normal thing,” he replied. “A guy buying women’s underwear is by no means normal,” I snapped, making him roll his eyes and grumble under his breath. “It’s better than developing an allergic reaction to this fucking bush. Seriously, are you sure this isn’t poison ivy or something?” I shrugged. “It could be.” He gave me a horrified look, opening his mouth as if to say something, but stopped when movement from the house startled the both of us, ducking low behind the bush so as not to be seen. Carefully, I peeked and watched the door start to open, Mom emerging from inside, already dressed for work. Right on time, I thought, glancing down at my wristwatch. Just as I’d expected. But something I never would have expected was a guy walking out of the house as well, closing the door behind him, talking to my mother. Both of them had worried looks on their faces, mouth set in a grim line and brows furrowed in concern. The guy, particularly, seemed to have an expression that was lost between assurance and worry, probably trying to convince my mother not to worry about me. The guy was Cedric.

awesome

continue nau.

Chapter Seventeen Long after Mom and Cedric left—Mom taking the car and offering to give Cedric a ride, him declining and walking back home instead—I was still crouching by the bush with Seth, speechless. If Seth hadn’t been with me, I might have marched to Mom and Cedric, demanding answers. But Seth pulled me back, shaking his head slightly and eyeing me carefully, as if he I was some sort of dangerous animal whose next move is unpredictable. “What is he doing at your house?” he asked me. “Mom must have called him when I disappeared last night,” I said. “I don’t know. Maybe he was worried and decided to drop by.” I couldn’t help this little flutter I felt when I thought about it that way—Cedric being worried and rushing to my house because he was concerned about me; because he still cared about me. “This isn’t the first time you ran away from home, is it?” he asked me, seemingly quiet all of a sudden. Shaking my head, I fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “I ran away once.” “And you went straight to Cedric’s.” Defensive, I said, “Where else was I supposed to go?” “Wait—so you’re telling me that you slept over at his house and nothing happened?” he asked me. “Between you two, I mean.” Flushed, I looked away and quickly stood up. “W-what?” My voice was an octave higher, letting him know how uncomfortable I was with the topic. “So you did do something?” “No,” I said too quickly, making him grin mischievously. We both knew I was perfectly lying. Okay, well, nothing really happened in that way, but it almost did. It was the night we got closest to doing it, but we both stopped and thought about the consequences of our actions and decided we shouldn’t, so Cedric left me in his room, kissing me good night on the forehead, and went to sleep in the living room instead. That night, I fell in love with him more. “How far did you do it?” Seth asked me, poking me in the shoulders. “Shut up.” Before he could retaliate, I immediately walked to the front porch. I reached down and lifted a potted plant to get the spare key. With it in my hand, I turned back to Seth, about to ask why he hasn’t moved yet, but stopped when I saw the look on his face, an unexplainable expression, bordering on sad, annoyed, and confused all at the same time. “Seth?” I said. He looked up, suddenly startled, as if I’d snapped him out of his reverie. “Come on. Hurry up.” Running his fingers through his hair, he distractedly smiled and said, “Oh. Yeah. Be right there.” “God, you’re really bothering to pack them neatly?” Seth was—get this—lying on my bed with his shoes on, his arms crossed behind his head. “For the last time—get out of my bed,” I said. “Make me.” I rolled my eyes and just decided not to care. I won’t be sleeping in that bed for a few days anyway. The germs he’d leave will probably be long dead by the time I come back. Just when I stopped nagging him about it, he decided to stand up.

“You look cute here,” he said. A stubborn side of me didn’t want to turn to see what he was talking about, but curiosity got the best of me and I looked over my shoulder. He was holding a framed picture of me in second grade, with a missing tooth. “I look stupid,” I said, noting the pigtails and the spot of mud on my forehead. I was digging to bury a time capsule that time and Mom took a picture of me with dirt all over me. “No, you look adorable. No one would think you’d grow up to have such a foul mouth and a very un-ladylike attitude.” I just rolled my eyes and continued folding my clothes. “Why do you still have this?” he said. “Have what?” I said, looking again and seeing that he was holding another framed picture. Of me and Cedric. It was prom. Mom insisted we take pictures and I didn’t want to but I had no choice. Cedric was such a gentleman that he couldn’t refuse Mom’s request and we both stood there awkwardly. Most of the pictures looked awkward, but this one was a candid shot, Mom somehow managing to take it randomly without us knowing. We were both looking into each other’s eyes, having almost identical smiles—shy but happy and scared but excited all at the same time. We looked in love. “Wow. You really got it bad for him, huh?” he said. I snapped my eyes to his. “No.” He rolled his eyes and slowly walked over to where I stood. “Tell you what. Let’s hold a party at my house.” “What?” “Well, for starters, Mom’s not home. And”—he paused, looking at me as if he was trying to convey the seriousness of the matter—“if Cedric comes, you’ll finally become my ‘girlfriend’. Sounds okay?” I considered the thought before nodding. “Deal.” I honestly couldn’t believe how fast Seth could organize a party in so little time. Well, actually, I could, considering how often he does it. But still. After leaving my house, he started to make some calls on our way back to his car, parked a few blocks from ours. I half-listened to him talking. He was friendly to everyone and it seemed as if this always happened. Like he always organized parties this way, unplanned and impromptu. By seven o’clock, everything was already set. People have been coming in and out of the house putting up the speakers and the keg and some chips. I honestly couldn’t comprehend just how the heck Seth Everett had organized a party in so little time. “Wow,” I said as Seth plopped into the space next to me. I already told Seth that I wasn’t going to help out with setting up because this was entirely his idea, and so I was conveniently just watching an episode of How I Met Your Mother that I randomly came across while switching channels. “Wow?” “I can’t say I’m not surprised you successfully pulled this off,” I said. “But yeah, I’m still quite a bit surprised.” He grinned. “Oh, ye of little faith.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to Barney grinding with some random girl in a club on the TV. “What if he doesn’t show up?” I asked him. “Oh, he’ll show up. I’m sure of it.” “What makes you think so?”

just continue nau

He shrugged, closing his eyes and letting himself fall back into his seat. “I feel exhausted.” I looked at him. He had his head resting against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed. I looked at the way his face changes when he looks so peaceful. "What if," he said, opening his eyes without moving, "Cedric suddenly shows up on your doorstep one day and asks you to take him back?" I'd always thought about this question. Maybe even unconsciously. But I'd never given myself a real answer. "I don't know. I'm afraid to know." He closed his eyes again, not saying anything. His silence bothered me, but I just shut up until his breathing changed into even inhales and exhales, falling asleep. I don't know how long we stayed that way, but we didn't stir until the first visitors arrived. By nine, the house was overflowing with drunk teenagers dancing to some crap music. Seth had been with me all night, always orbiting somewhere near me and helping me get through the alcohol- induced crowd. "You're seriously not going to let me drink?" I asked him, incredulous. "The only way I can get through this crap music is if I'm not sober." "The crowd loves it. And I did give you one beer." "One beer." I gave him my best WTF look. "See? Exactly." I rolled my eyes. "You're not the boss of me," I huffed, feeling childish about saying that line. "My house." He smirked. I groaned and decided there was no point in getting into a stupid argument with him. Besides, I don't even like beer. "Look. He's here," Seth whispered. Cedric. Seth took my hand. He looked me in the eye first, almost as if he was asking me if I was all right. "I'm fine," I told him. "Are you sure?" He placed a hand on my cheek. I gave him a Duh look. He nodded. "Okay. Come on." We made our way among the throng of sweaty bodies and went to the counter. We both sat on it, side by side with our feet dangling over the edge because this was elevated. People were bound to see us. "So we're going to make out?" I asked him. "Oh, no, no, no." He smirked. "Making out? That's normal. Raging hormones and all." "Then what?" He pulled me closer. "We gotta give them something more than just the usual make out." He traced my cheek with the back of his hand, slowly spreading tingles where his skin touched mine, moving until his fingers were pressed against the back of my neck. His thumb was tracing circles on my skin and I couldn't fight the shiver that went up my spine. God, I cannot be turned on by this, right? Ah, fuck, who was I kidding? I don't know what was wrong with me, but his hand on the nape of my neck made it really hard to think clearly. He bent down and closed the distance between us, but his lips landed on my forehead first, gentle and quick. It drove me crazy. Then, he let our foreheads touch, our breaths mixing in the space between us.

It was getting harder and harder not to just cross that distance myself. Slowly, slowly, slowly, he leaned in. The moment our lips touched, my eyes automatically fluttered close. He pulled back carefully, the kiss nothing more than a butterfly landing on my lips. Then he kissed me again, a bit longer this time. He pulled away, all gentleness, but kept our distance as close as possible. "I'm feeling weirdly nervous," he whispered, breathing seemingly shaken. This time, I was the one to close the distance. His lips parted and the kiss was longer, deeper, still gentle. I paused long enough to admit "Me, too," before placing a hand on his chest and the other in his hair, pulling him closer. Every time we pull away, we find ourselves leaning in again. And each kiss becomes deeper than the previous one. It was just like making out, but there was a certain kind of gentleness to it. Carefully, he pushed me back until my back was flat against the cold marble of the counter. For a moment, his lips leave mine and are on my jaw, tracing kisses to my ear. I take a deep shuddering breath before he finds my lips again. I don't know how long we were kissing--it felt like minutes but it was never enough. I dissolved in his kisses as they get deeper, until I forget where we are and everything but him disintegrates into nothing more than an afterthought. He pulled away, this time seemingly for good. I tried to ignore the urge to pull him back. He helped me sit up. He said something but I couldn't focus enough to understand. "I said, we caused quite a commotion," he repeated. Finally, I realized that people were cheering and hooting, clapping like the football team just won State Finals. "Duuude! You are sooo doped!" one of his friends said, punching Seth on his shoulder. "You really got it bad for this girl, eh?" Seth took my hand, meeting my eyes. The expression on his face could only be nothing but serious. Holding my gaze, he replied, "Yeah." My breathing hitched. "Real bad." He pulled me quick to plant a kiss on my temple. For a moment, I almost let myself believe it was real. All of it. --- "So, Kyla, that kiss was really something," Alyssa said, making my cheeks go red, as we both collected red cups, dumping them on a half-filled large garbage bag. "Was it?" I said, cursing myself for easily blushing. Apparently, six of Seth's friends always stay behind to help with cleaning the place up. It's tradition, Alyssa had explained to me. "Uhh, duh. Everyone stopped to watch. It was like a kissing scene from those really, really cheesy romantic films. Only better." She smiled at me, raising an eyebrow. "He must really like you." She wasn't helping much with the blushing. "God, he can't stop looking at you," she said to me and shouted, "For fuck's sake, Seth, Kyla won't go anywhere so please stop staring like she'd disappear all of a sudden." This got a few laughs from everyone, teasing Seth and playfully joking about this sudden change in him. He gave me an amused smile from across the room.

"He wasn't staring," I told Alyssa, feeling flustered "Are you kidding?" she said, rolling her eyes. "His eyes follow you wherever you go." "That's ridiculous." She snorted. "I've known Seth since, like, forever. I haven't seen him this happy since--oh fuck, why the hell are boys so gross?" She grunted in disgust as she picked up a half- finished beer with a condom floating in the piss-colored liquid. "Since?" I prompted her. "Happy since when?" Dumping the cup in the garbage bag, she shrugged and asked, "What was I saying?" "You haven't seen him happy since when?" "Oh. Since Sarah." My heart sank to my stomach. There it was. A name. "Sarah?" "Forget her," she said. "I like you better. You make Seth smile. For real." I wanted so badly to ask more, but I couldn't find the right words. When Seth admitted that he had fallen in love before, was he talking about this Sarah? "At first I thought you didn't really like him for real," she said. "Was it the kiss that made you change your mind?" I found myself asking. "Well, that and that." She pointed at me. "What?" "Honey, it's written all over your face." I was beginning to think she might be blind. Or delusional. They finished cleaning up at around a quarter past three in the morning. I expected that they would crash here for the night, but none of them did. "Warren never drinks," Seth told me when they'd already left. We were seated in the kitchen, drinking some hot chocolate. "He drives them home. He knows I worry." "Warren is the..." "Tall guy." "Ah, of course. Who was the loud one one who began each sentence with Duuuude?" "Oh. That was Justin." "Dan was the funny one, Rev was the scary- looking military-ish guy?" "Military-ish?" I groaned. "Yes, Kyla. That would be Rev." His eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement as he brought his cup to his lips and sipped. "Then there's Lily, who is going out with Dan. And lastly, Alyssa, who used to date Warren." "Yep. That's everyone." What about Sarah? I almost asked, but I stopped myself and just said, "I didn't think you had friends." "Now, why would you think that? I sit with them everyday at lunch. You see me with them." He seemed genuinely curious and interested, a faint smile playing across his lips. Because you're always lonely. "Because who in their right minds would like to be friends with you?" "Well, you must be crazy, then." He grinned so wide it couldn't possibly go any wider. "What? Don't flatter yourself. I'm just using you because I need a place to stay in," I told him. "And for the great kisses as well?" "Yeah, those too," I said without thinking. Then my eyes grew wide. "Wait, what, no."

I wanted so bad to wipe the fucking smirk off his lips. My cheeks flushed. I huffed and drank the last of my choco as I stood up, heading straight towards the sink. He laughed, rich and real and deep. "It's not like I couldn't tell you liked it." "Oh, yeah?" I glared at him. "Admit it." I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my face burn. I wished he couldn't see how much I was blushing. "Kyla," he said when I just kept glaring. God, that grin on his lips. "I enjoyed it. Did you?" I didn't bother answering as I left him in the kitchen. He laughed. --- I wanted to push Seth off the bed. Wait, scratch that. I wanted to kick him off. Why couldn't he just sleep in his room like a normal person? "If you're going to sleep here, then I'm sleeping somewhere else," I said and sat up. Seth pulled me back down without even opening his eyes. "Stop being ridiculous." I struggled to sit up again, but he slipped his arms around me and held me, hugging me so my back was pressed against his chest and his chin was on the top of my head. "This counts as physical abuse, Everett." I tried to free myself from his hug but he held me tighter. I sighed and just stopped. "Why the hell does my shampoo smell differently on your hair?" he asked. "It smells better." I could hear the smile in his voice as he sniffed. I am not kidding, he freaking sniffed me. "Oh, my god, I feel so violated." He paid me no attention as he said, "You know how I know you liked the kiss?" "I didn't--" "Because you didn't open your eyes to see if Cedric was watching." I stopped. It dawned on me that he was right. I hadn't looked for Cedric. I hadn't even thought of him after the kiss as Alyssa and the rest swept me along with them. "I am as tired as hell," he said, yawning. I stayed there, unmoving, as the rise and fall of his chest against my back stretched into deep even breaths. His hold on me had gone slack as he fell asleep. I could have easily slipped out of the hug. But maybe I was too tired to move, maybe I wasn't thinking right, maybe it seemed like too much, because I didn't move. I just closed my eyes.

Best story eva

Chapter Eighteen I woke up with Seth's arms still around me. I blinked against the sunlight streaming past the window. "Good morning." I yelped, jerking away from him and his hug. I scrambled away and stood up from the bed, turning to him. "Have you been awake all this time?" He was grinning. "Yep." "And you just kept hugging me?" He sat up and simply shrugged, like he hadn't admitted that he was violating me on so many levels. "I didn't want to wake you up." "So you just stayed there hugging me like a fucking pervert?" I asked, incredulous. "Nope." I squinted my eyes at him. "Then what?" "You smelled so good, I had also been sniffing you all this time." "Oh, my god, you are a fucking psycho," I yelled at him. He shrugged his blankets off and stood up from the bed. He stretched, revealing a thin strip if flesh between his shirt and his and pajama bottoms. I looked away and huffed indignantly, still feeling annoyed by the fact that the jerk had been sniffing me in my sleep. He just laughed as we headed to the kitchen. I saw the bar. And the counter. My cheeks flushed pink at the menory of last night. "What are we having for breakfast?" he asked me. I shrugged. "If you think I'm going to cook for you, you are wrong.you are so wrong." He wasn't. In the end, I did end up cooking Oreo pancakes for him. It involved a long story of him running after me all around the house threatening to sniff me if I didn't cook breakfast. As I was flipping the seventh pancake, Seth came to the kitchen, a phone pressed against his left ear. "Yes, Ma'am. She's doing fine." I realized he was talking to my mother. He only used that polite crap with Mom. "Kyla, would yo want to--" I shook my head before he even had the chance to finish the question. "Sorry," he said quietly to Mom. "She doesn't really want to at the moment. Yes, I'll make sure. Yes. Okay. Bye." I made it a point not to talk to him long after he hung up. He stood there waiting for me to say something, fiddling with the phone. I pointedly continued to ignore him, facing the stove and cooking with him hovering unsurely to my right. He cleared his throat. "Your mom is just worried." "You're only encouraging her," I said without looking at him. He shrugged. "It's no big deal, you know." "Can you believe her?" I said before I could stop myself. "She's completely fine with me staying over at a random guy's house." "I'm your boyfriend. At least to everyone else. And she isn't completely fine with it. She was really mad before, remember? But she knows you're upset and she's probably giving you some time out." "Why are you defending her?" "Because," he said, "I see right through you." I turned to face him. "What is that supposed to mean?" "Nothing," he replied, taking a few steps back. "Just that you got to be more honest to yourself."

I turned the stove off. "What?" I leveled my gaze with him, trying not to shout. "Why did you choose to run away and stay here?" I rolled my eyes. "Because I'm sick of her. I don't want to see her." "No. That's not it." "What would you know?" I snapped at him, feeling like I could just strangle him at the moment. "You ran away because you want her to chase you. You want her to beg you to come back. You want to know if she still cares." "That's not true." I glared at him, taking deep unsteady breaths. "It is, and you know it." "Who are you to assume things and--" "Remember," he said, "that I ran away too. And slept over at your house. I tried that too." My anger faded almost instantly. He looked so vulnerable when he continued talking, looking at the floor. "She didn't even know I was gone." "Oh, Seth," I managed to say. He met my gaze for a second before shrugging, as if to say Well, nothing I can do about that. "Let's just eat," he said, taking the plate of pancakes. I silently followed behind him, out the kitchen and into the dining room. The atmosphere between us was bordering on unbearably awkward, like we've reached a stalemate but neither of us are ready to call it done yet, words still hanging on our tongues, but neither of us saying anything because the air was already strained as it is. We both ate in silence. I'd always wished for him to shut up whenever we were together, but being with him this way without him even trying to tease me was infuriatingly worse than him cracking lousy jokes. The air felt heavy. I couldn't take it anymore. "I'm sorry," I said, not daring to meet his eyes. "Yeah," he said. I finally raised my gaze to look at him. "I know you are." He offered a smile. "So. What are we going to do for today?" he asked me. The tension dissipated just like that. I blinked. "Um. Stay home and do nothing?" "Um, what? No. I won't let you kill us both in boredom today." "I am not boring," I said. Almost as if on cue, his message alert tone rang. He picked his phone up and checked. "Well, I guess now we have something to do," he said after reading the message. I did not like the sound of that. "What?" I said. "Who was that?" “Warren.” “What did he say?” I said, feeling impatient. "It's a surprise." I was positive the expression on my face pretty much showed exactly what I was feeling. Which was, "What the fuck?" Seth grinned. "This'll be fun." "No. I am not going. You can't make me." "Come on, it'll be fun." "No." There was an irritating smile on his face, as if to say he knew better. "We'll see."

I had a really bad feeling about this, so I clenched my teeth together and glared at him. "I hate surprises." "You hate everything," he offered, taking forkfuls of pancakes dripping in syrup and stuffing his mouth without pausing. "Oh, sweet heavens. If living with you means having someone cook me breakfast every morning, sign me up." "First off, there's no sign up sheet for you to sign," I said. "Second, do you honestly think I'd want to spend time with you, let alone live with you?" He grinned. "Oh, I'm sure. I know you have trouble admitting how much you actually like me." God, he was so full of himself. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. We've had this conversation roughly fifty times before and I don't exactly want to get into it yet again. I resolved to be quiet, but I susrprised myself by saying, "Thanks, by the way." He tilted his head a bit to the side and actually swallowed his food (a miracle) before asking, "What for?" "I always cook for Mom," I said, looking down at my plate, suddenly wishing I hadn't said anything in the first place. I couldn't bear to look him in the eye. "But she's never around. It's kind of, um, nice to actually have someone eat what I cook." "Yeah?" I didn't dare look up. "Yeah." Then, silence, but I swear I could hear his grin. --- It took another round of Seth chasing me around the house and threatening to sniff me before I agreed, panting and exhausted, to go along with this surprise of his. I had also locked myself in the bathroom when I admitted defeat because he had keys to the bathroom and I literally just trapped myself inside. "Fine, okay?" I had yelled through the door, trying to catch my breath. "I'm going." And so, an hour later, we were in his car, him driving and me scowling in the passenger seat. He told me to wear something comfortable when I was getting ready, which ay least made me feel a bit better because I didn't have to worry that we were going to somewhere fancy or weird. I started to fiddle with his car's radio, trying to find something decent to listen to. "I have some CDs in the glove compartment," he said when he noticed the look on my face as Nikki Minaj came on the radio. I could tell by the shape of his lips that he was trying not to laugh. The glove compartment opened with a muffled pop and a bunch of CDs were inside. I'd expected to find them messily stashed but they were pretty organized, considering it's near impossible to organize stuff in a glove compartment. Some were regular albums and I could tell that some were mixes. I got curious about the mixes, so I chose to ignore the All Time Low album. I pulled one of the mixes out. The case had no cover but the golden CD inside it was plain, save for words Catching Juliet written with a black marker. He looked over for a second and I swear I saw his hand tighten on the steering wheel for a second. I put it in, daring for him to say something about it. To tell me to play something else, maybe, or just not play anything at all, but he didn't. He just looked straight ahead, focusing on the road through the windshield. The first track played. It was Yellow by Coldplay. He was quiet. Too quiet. I waited for him to say anything, but he didn't. I rested my head against the window and let the music fill my head. The next track came. It was Dare You To Move by Switchfoot.

I had a really bad feeling about this, so I clenched my teeth together and glared at him. "I hate surprises." "You hate everything," he offered, taking forkfuls of pancakes dripping in syrup and stuffing his mouth without pausing. "Oh, sweet heavens. If living with you means having someone cook me breakfast every morning, sign me up." "First off, there's no sign up sheet for you to sign," I said. "Second, do you honestly think I'd want to spend time with you, let alone live with you?" He grinned. "Oh, I'm sure. I know you have trouble admitting how much you actually like me." God, he was so full of himself. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. We've had this conversation roughly fifty times before and I don't exactly want to get into it yet again. I resolved to be quiet, but I susrprised myself by saying, "Thanks, by the way." He tilted his head a bit to the side and actually swallowed his food (a miracle) before asking, "What for?" "I always cook for Mom," I said, looking down at my plate, suddenly wishing I hadn't said anything in the first place. I couldn't bear to look him in the eye. "But she's never around. It's kind of, um, nice to actually have someone eat what I cook." "Yeah?" I didn't dare look up. "Yeah." Then, silence, but I swear I could hear his grin. --- It took another round of Seth chasing me around the house and threatening to sniff me before I agreed, panting and exhausted, to go along with this surprise of his. I had also locked myself in the bathroom when I admitted defeat because he had keys to the bathroom and I literally just trapped myself inside. "Fine, okay?" I had yelled through the door, trying to catch my breath. "I'm going." And so, an hour later, we were in his car, him driving and me scowling in the passenger seat. He told me to wear something comfortable when I was getting ready, which ay least made me feel a bit better because I didn't have to worry that we were going to somewhere fancy or weird. I started to fiddle with his car's radio, trying to find something decent to listen to. "I have some CDs in the glove compartment," he said when he noticed the look on my face as Nikki Minaj came on the radio. I could tell by the shape of his lips that he was trying not to laugh. The glove compartment opened with a muffled pop and a bunch of CDs were inside. I'd expected to find them messily stashed but they were pretty organized, considering it's near impossible to organize stuff in a glove compartment. Some were regular albums and I could tell that some were mixes. I got curious about the mixes, so I chose to ignore the All Time Low album. I pulled one of the mixes out. The case had no cover but the golden CD inside it was plain, save for words Catching Juliet written with a black marker. He looked over for a second and I swear I saw his hand tighten on the steering wheel for a second. I put it in, daring for him to say something about it. To tell me to play something else, maybe, or just not play anything at all, but he didn't. He just looked straight ahead, focusing on the road through the windshield. The first track played. It was Yellow by Coldplay. He was quiet. Too quiet. I waited for him to say anything, but he didn't. I rested my head against the window and let the music fill my head. The next track came. It was Dare You To Move by Switchfoot.

"Did you make this?" I asked him. He didn't miss a beat. "Yeah. A long time ago." "Who is Juliet?" The name Sarah almost made its way out my mouth but I caught myself. I didn't know why exactly I still haven't mentioned her. I'd always been too curious about most stuff. He shrugged. "It's just a name for the mix." "Who was it for?" "Somebody," he replied vaguely, taking a left turn. "I'll make you one someday." There was a subtle hint of pleading to drop the subject in his voice, so I did. "Sure. Maybe someday." It felt unfair. He knew everything about me, and I had no idea who this Juliet is, and if it was Sarah. It was like there was a one-way mirror between us and he could see me clearly, but I couldn't see him. Before the third track started, I took the CD out, feeling as if I was stealing something from Sara by listening. I played something else instead, avoiding the mixes, pretending not to notice his sigh of relief as Ben Howard's voice filled the car. "Now that I think about it, what's your favorite band?" he asked me. I was about to say the Beatles, but I stopped myself. The only real reason why they were my favorite was because Cedric did. Now, sure, I liked listening to them, but I wouldn't exactly call them my favorite. "I don't know," I answered. "I have no idea." I realized I was telling the truth. He considered this for a second before nodding. "Okay." He started to go on and on about this band and that band and it made me think of Cedric, saying I was in need of a serious crash course on music, and he brought me a whole box of CDs at home one day and we listened to them all afternoon. "Hey, are you even listening?" he said after a while. "Why should I?" I tried not to make it obvious that I actually felt guilty about not paying attention, acting hostile instead. He let out a frustrated groan. "One day," he said, "one day you'll realize you're taking me for granted. And you’ll fall helplessly in love with me." "I highly doubt that." I looked out the window. That would never happen, I kept telling myself, it would never happen. --- At one point during the ride, I fell asleep to Ben Howard’s songs and when I reopened my eyes, the engine was turned off. I lifted my head from the car window, looking around me for a second, blinking back sleep as I tried to take in my surroundings. “We’re here,” Seth said from the driver’s side. I looked through the windshield, squinting to make sense of the place. My brain decided not to function immediately, still suspended in dreamland, when it finally dawned on me where we were. I pressed my hands against the glass of the window, pressing my forehead as well as I tried to get a better look outside. The circular web of metal rotating on and on, the colorful stuff everywhere, the rising and falling and zigzagging metal structure. It all clicked into place. The amusement park. I tried not to gawk as I watched the roller coaster rise, slowly but steadily, until reaching the down-ward slope. For a second, the cart teetered, like it wasn’t sure of the dip, but it did. Falling bit by bit at first, continually accelerating, gaining speed like it was gaining courage, embracing the fall.

“I’d never been to an amusement park.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it slipped out. I almost wanted to take the words back, feeling embarrassed for no apparent reason. Going to the amusement park seemed like something everybody had done before. “No shit?” he said. I tried not to show how curious I was, almost buzzing with excitement. “Come on, then,” he said. “It’ll be fun.” He got out of the car and I followed suit. He locked it and walked over to where I was standing. I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the rides. It was stupid. I wasn’t a little kid, but I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer speed of the roller coaster and the height of the Ferris wheel and the loud cacophony of music and chatter and laughter and screams. It rendered my breathless. Standing beside me, he looked up at it too. His arm was pressing against mine. The back of his hand was almost but not quite touching the back of mine, and slowly, quite slowly, he looped his pinky with mine. I was suddenly breathless for a completely different reason. “Before everything else, though, we’re grabbing some lunch there.” He nodded his head towards a small, old- school looking diner on the other side of the road. It was overflowing with customers, some couples but mostly families and group of friends. No matter how old it looked, the whole place was buzzing with life. “Judging by the number of people eating there, I think it’s more like we’re grabbing some dinner there.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Everyone’s already there, waiting for us. Warren’s family owns the place.” “Uh, wow. That must be—” I trailed off, searching for the right word. “It’s something, all right,” he said. “Wait ‘till you taste the onion rings. Come on.” He started walking towards it and I followed, pretending not to think too much of the fact that our pinkies were still loosely looped together. And that I liked it. I heard somewhere that looping pinkies meant promising something. And this, walking with Seth with our hands linked in this little way, felt so simple; not quite holding each other so much as telling the other I’m here, connected like a promise. -- A/N: Hey guys! :D Okay, so a lot of you told me to stick to the title. So okay. Thanks a lot for reading! I hope you liked it! :)))))

Cool

Dude, am really lovin dis story, nxt 1 puleashe

#crying_ooooo# where is "d gal he never noticed" ???? Seems u want 2 buy me a bunch of handerchieves

Ooops, am sorry i didn't come wit a bowl or bucket dearie, buh me sef dey H 4 d@ story seriously ooo

guy hwfa u nau, no dey start wetin u no fit end.

Chapter Nineteen “Nope. You are not ordering that,” Alyssa told me before looking up at our waitress, who was wearing a nametag with the name Judy but everyone apparently calls her Jean. “She’ll have the Aly and lots and lots of onion rings.” I blinked. “Aly?” She grinned. “Warren named a burger after me.” “God, you just keep bringing that one up,” Warren said with a big sigh, but the smile on his face told me he didn’t really mind at all. “Damn right, I do,” she said. “It’s the best burger here anyway.” “Oh, no,” Dan said. "Here we go,” Seth agreed, shaking his head like he was resigning himself to something he didn’t have any control over. “What—why?” I asked, but was answered when Alyssa began with, “We were sophomores when…” Everyone groaned, so in sync that it made me wonder if they’d somehow practiced it (I wouldn’t doubt it, knowing how weird they all were (in a good way)). While waiting for our orders, Alyssa recounted the tale of the Aly. It turns out they’ve sort of been friends since forever, all of them, and Alyssa and Warren used to bicker like “an old married couple” (as described by everyone). Alyssa used to like him during freshman year, but Warren was dating some other girl, “that bitch,” (again, everyone) and come sophomore year, they broke up. But by that time, Alyssa was dating some other guy and had completely moved on, “Ugh, that guy” (Dan). But then Alyssa caught “ugh, that guy” sucking faces with someone else on a party and Warren happened to be there as well. He punched the guy twice and hauled Alyssa away from the party and brought her here. “It was past midnight and the diner was closed, but Warren had the keys,” Alyssa said, just as the orders were being served. “I asked him what we were going to do here, and he just brought me to the kitchen wordlessly. He said he noticed the way I always asked for my burger. He didn’t even ask me to tell him how I wanted it. He just took a piece of paper and scribbled it down. ‘Did I get it right?’ he asked me, showing me the paper, and I was surprised because he did. “When I nodded, he scribbled ‘The Aly’ on it, and posted it on the bulletin board in the back. Then he asked me if I was all right,” she said. There was this almost sad smile on her face. Despite everyone’s reaction when she was just beginning to tell the story, it was obvious that they actually liked hearing it. “We talked all night. From that day onwards, we started spending more time with each other and it took a while, but we eventually got together.” “And broke up a year later,” Warren said, looking outside through the glass wall. “Yeah. And that,” Aly said, looking down at the table. For a moment it was quiet as all of us let that sink in, Jean placing our orders in front of us. She placed the Aly in front of me along with the platter of onion rings. I didn’t get it. How could they still be friends like this, after breaking up with each other? And how was it possible for them to talk about the past like it didn’t bother them? Didn’t they love each other back then? I was pretty sure they did. Really. There was no mistaking it. As a matter of fact, I was pretty sure they still love each other. “At least we don’t get to see you swapping spit with each other while we’re all eating anymore,” Rev said, and everyone agreed with chuckles and an indignant “Hey!” from Alyssa.

The topic suddenly went from Warren and Alyssa’s past to swapping spit and Who do you think is the best kisser among the whole student body? “Well, Kyla, do you want to answer that?” Seth said, nudging me with his elbow, a mischievous smirk on his face. Everyone clapped and sort of cheered. I blushed, half-mad and half-surprised for being put on the spot. I looked at Seth and said, “If I do, it might break your heart.” “Ooooooh,” everyone said. Seth narrowed his eyes at me, the smirk disintegrating into a slightly annoyed frown. “What did you say?” “You heard me.” “Well, Seth. Though you’re not the best kisser for Kyla, you’re still number one in her heart, I suppose. Don’t take it too hard.” Lily told him mockingly, in a voice that was usually used when saying There, there, it will be all right. Seth turned to me completely, ignoring Lily and everyone else. “I’m pretty sure you must have damaged your brain along the way and forgot all about last night. Should I refresh your memory?” “No, that would be unnece—” Before I could finish, he already swooped in to press his lips against mine, surprisingly gentle as he pulled me closer. Ah, fuck it. He was a damn good kisser. Everyone might have cheered or groaned, but I wasn’t sure because everything else suddenly didn’t matter anymore, completely drowned out by one, simple kiss. When he pulled away, he still had this annoyed expression. I blinked as everything came back to focus. “Well?” he prompted, obviously pissed. “Th-that wasn’t—I’ve had better kisses,” I said, stumbling on my words as I willed my blush to go away. “Fine.” He removed his arm from the back of my seat, where it was casually draped around my shoulders. “Whatever.” “Hey, I was just—” “Who is it?” he asked me, not directly looking at me. Everyone was looking at him, mildly amused and obviously surprised. “Who’s the guy?” I couldn’t help but blink in surprise as it dawned on me that Seth freaking Everett was seriously pissed. “Well, I —” “You know what? Forget it. Don’t tell me. Don’t—just don’t. Spare me the horrific details, you ungrateful girlfriend.” He huffed and inched his chair away from mine, placing his elbow on the table and resting his head against his hand, facing away from me as he sipped his drink from the straw. What the fuck? I bit down on my bottom lip to keep myself from laughing. “Duuuuude,” Justin (who else) said, nodding at me with this wide grin on his face. “Nice! It’s great to see Seth Everett lose his cool.” I wanted to enjoy myself even further, but the look on his face made my hand reach for his, taking it in mine. “No elbows on the table,” I told him, pulling his hand away from his head and guiding it back under the table. For some reason even I can never explain, I slipped my fingers between his. “I was just kidding.” “Tsk.” He pointedly looked away, but not before I saw his lips curl into a familiar smile as he curled his fingers with mine. God, we’re taking this acting thing way too seriously. --- Alyssa and Lily looped their arms with both of mine and dragged me away from the guys, walking a few feet behind them. We’d already entered Cloudland, which was a weird name for an amusement park, and I couldn’t quite contain the excitement I was feeling. I tried not to seem too eager, worried they might think I’m such a child.

Or that they might ask me what kind of childhood I had, and I know it’s supposed to be a joke, but I could never stop myself from cringing. “I swear, I can’t stand that much testosterone overflowing when all of them are together,” Lily said with an eye-roll before looking at me and smiling. “So, Seth, huh?” I wasn’t sure how to reply to that and I ended up saying, “Uh- huh.” Yeah, way to sound retarded. I mentally chastised myself for being a moron at a time like this, just because I’m hyped up about the rides. “You know what? I think you and Seth are going to last forever,” Alyssa said. “I just know it.” “Well, that’s what you said about you and Warren,” Lily deadpanned. I expected Alyssa to react rather rashly, but she just laughed. It didn’t even seem to bother her. Either that or she was really good at hiding it. “Right, I forgot about that,” she said sheepishly. “What went wrong anyway?” I asked without thinking, immediately regretting it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Alyssa nonchalantly waved her hand in the air. “Nahhh, it’s fine. Really. The truth is that I messed up. It was actually all my fault.” When I looked at her, there was that sad smile on her face again, her eyes only trained on Warren, who was laughing at something Justin was saying at the moment. “He deserves better.” Lily sort of hit Al’s head lightly. “I keep telling you you’re being stupid. If you still love him, and duh, of course you do, you should probably just tell him.” It was difficult not to let my thoughts drift away to Cedric. All this time, I kept telling myself that I was completely fine with it, but I couldn’t just keep running away from Cedric and my real feelings. Heck, I didn’t even know how I did feel about Cedric. The searing ache I always when I start thinking of him makes it hard for me to face my feelings. I looked over at Alyssa, who was a bit busy saying something about some kind of game here. I couldn’t help but wonder what really happened between him and Warren. It’s like nothing ever happened between them. Was that even possible? To be able to hang out like this without feeling like someone is stabbing you over and over and over again? No matter how much I tried to think about it, the image of me and Cedric playfully talking about the past was too impossible, even for my imagination. There was no way it was ever going to happen. “So, which are we going to ride first?” Dan called over from in front of us. Everyone suddenly gave out suggestions, launching into a surprisingly complicated debate regarding rides. Lily even mentioned something about the angle of elevation of the roller coaster as compared to the angle of the sun or whatever. “Since it’s Kyla’s first time here, why don’t we let her decide?” Seth suggested, breaking the argument. Everyone agreed and turned to look at me. “Um.” I looked around awkwardly. “Dude, you should, like, totally pick the Viking,” Justin said. “Don’t listen to him,” Alyssa said. “Let’s ride the Swans!”

Uhmmm... Seth is in-love....

Warren sort of punched her softly on her arm. “You are such a girl.” “But it’s the Swans!” Alyssa crossed her arms over her chest. Pretty soon, everyone was back to throwing ideas out and debating over it. I didn’t know going to the amusement park required so much energy. Amused, I finally said, “Let’s try the bump cars?” Everyone paused and slowly agreed. Seth gave me a look and laughed, shaking his head with an eye-roll. “They are such kids,” he said. I had never been in a group before. It was always just me and Cedric or me and Hail. I’d never been surrounded by peers like this, where everyone has something to say and argue and have debates on the most random things ever. I always thought having a few friends was enough. But the way I could see it now, I realize I’d been missing out on a lot. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had Seth to thank for letting me be here. Now in an argument about whether or not we should share cars or get one each, we all walked towards the direction of the bump cars. They were giving out map printouts by the entrance earlier, but Seth and the others refused them, so I was blindly trailing behind them. I couldn’t help looking around as we walked, marveling at the sheer size of the rides and listening to every sound. Right next to a colorful corndog stall, I noticed a little girl in braids, holding hands with her mother on one side and his father on the other. I forced myself to breathe in, breathe out as I looked through the three of them, seeing myself instead, several years ago, standing in between my mother and father, the warmth of their hands linked with mine. I felt cheated. Some people still had both their parents, and I didn’t even have one of them. Taking a deep breath, I ripped my gaze away from the family and searched instead for Seth’s familiar mop of sandy brown hair. Which, of course, was nowhere to be found. I should have thought something like this would happen and thought of grabbing one of those maps at the entrance. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I realized I hadn’t even bothered to charge it earlier before getting out of the house. I decided to look around once more, hoping to find the bump cars were actually just a few yards away or something, but it didn’t seem like it. I randomly walked in no particular direction, trying to stay alert to look for everyone. If I didn’t manage to find anyone, I could maybe just ask other people for directions. “Kyla!” I looked up, to see Seth emerge from the crowd. His phone was pressed to his ear. His eyes locked with mine and he finally lowered the phone. “I can’t reach your cell,” he said when he was near enough. “Oh. Um. Sorry. I forgot to charge it,” I told him. That was the moment a running kid chose to bump into me from behind, making me trip between my feet, teetering for a heart- stopping moment as I lost my balance. Seth grabbed me just in time, both hands on my waist. I let out a sigh of relief. Seth dropped his hands when I straightened, forgetting to consider the distance between us as I raised my gaze to his. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I realized he was closer than I thought he was, faces only inches apart. I took a panicky step back, nearly losing my balance all over again but managed to stay upright. For some reason, I could almost hear the beating of my heart, too loud and too fast. “You okay?” Seth said, clearly unfazed.

“Oh, um , yeah.” What the fuck was wrong with me? Behind me, the kid kept running after a hasty sorry, looking happy and oblivious. “Sorry,” Seth said after a beat, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t notice you were left behind.” “It was pretty much my fault,” I said. “I got distracted.” “Really? From what?” I considered not telling him, but for some reason even I couldn’t exactly understand, I said, “It’s stupid. I saw this little girl.” Afraid to meet his gaze, I looked down as we started to walk. “She was with her mom and dad, holding hands with both of them. I just felt— It’s stupid. Yeah, I know.” For a second, he was quiet, then out of the blue, he took my hand in his, making me look up at him in surprise. “I know I’m not your mother or your father, but this is fine, right?” He smiled and tugged me along. “Also, this way you won’t get left behind and lost.” “I clearly remember telling you not to touch me with your dirty hands as much as possible,” I said, trying to summon as much hostility as I could, but the words came out half-heartedly. “Ah, I thought you’d say that,” he said. But I wasn’t exactly pulling my hand away. By the time the sun was setting, we’d gone on a lot of the smaller rides, all of them claiming it was best to ride the bigger ones without the sun, when the place was lit up with the colorful lights and stuff. Eating some cotton candy on a bench near the Swans (which were actually boats), I watched how everyone were simply just together, mingling around like it was perfectly normal to be with each and every one of them. It felt kind of nice to be part of a group. Especially a group that kept harassing Seth Everett for squealing girlishly when his foot slipped when we were in the haunted house. “I told you, it wasn’t because of the ‘ghosts.’ My foot slipped,” Seth kept telling them, and he was telling the truth. But though we all knew he really did slip, we still insisted on making fun of him. Soon enough, we rode the bigger rides, Lily passing on the roller coaster because she didn’t like it, no matter how much everyone coaxed her into riding. I think Seth expected me to be scared, but as the cart moved, steadily picking up speed and momentum, bringing all of us along with it, I couldn’t help but feel alive. I threw my head back, I let go of the railing, I screamed and laughed and let the wind whip through my hair as the sheer speed of it carried us along. I loved it. When we got off, there were different reactions from everyone. I think Warren was looking a little green and Alyssa disappeared with him somewhere, seemingly used to that kind of situation. The others seemed fine and were already making their way to Lily. The adrenaline rush I got from the ride was still making me feel slightly breathless, feeling as if the moment in that highest peak of the roller coaster was still just within my grasp. I didn’t know I was laughing until Seth pointed it out. “I’d never seen you have so much fun,” he said. "It was awesome!” I gushed out before I could stop myself. He chuckled. “Wow, I remember having that same reaction… when I was six years old.” I punched his arm. “Shut up.” We then rode the Viking, which for some reason Lily was completely okay with, and the spinning thingy, which finally made Warren give up and pass on the other extreme rides, keeping Lily company instead.

Lovely

I liked every ride. I loved the feeling of being suspended in air for a while, high up where you’d never reached before, your body propelled by something entirely apart from you. It felt good. “Ky, come here for a bit!” Snapping out of my trance, I looked up to see Seth waving for me to come over. He looked like a stupid puppy. Alyssa nudged me with her elbow. “Go on. He looks stupid waving like that.” I laughed and walked over to him, feeling weirdly conscious because I knew the girls were looking at me from behind. Seth was standing in front of a colorful stall. “Which flavor do you want?” He nodded to the ice cream displayed behind a clear glass. “Vanilla,” I replied without even looking at the available flavors. He rolled his eyes. “That’s so boring. Oh, Kyla, what would you do without me?” he said before ordering something that was clearly not vanilla. Jerk. “I said I wanted vanilla. What’s the point of asking when you’ll go ahead and order something else?” Right on cue, the Seth Everett Smile. “Trust me. You’ll love this.” "Do you know what happened between Alyssa and Warren?” I asked him, turning back to watch them making fun of Dan’s hair. Seth glanced at them for a second before shrugging. “Not really. They’re just the most frustrating couple ever.” “It’s obvious they still like each other,” I couldn’t help but say. He gave me a look, making me weirdly conscious of the fact that I hadn’t really combed my hair. “What do you think should they do? Two people”—he looked down, his eyes hooded, letting me know he was being serious —“who obviously like each other?” The question bothered me. It seemed as if it bore this weight that wasn’t just about Warren and Alyssa, that there was an undercurrent to it. Like there was something he really wanted to ask but didn’t. “They should just tell each other,” I said. He sighed. “It’s not nearly as simple as that.” “Why not? You said it yourself. They’re the most frustrating couple ever. If they would just —” “If Cedric came and told him he still loves you,” he said, cutting me off, “and you still love him, what would you do?” I looked at him sharply, surprised that he brought up something like that so rashly. I almost wanted to slap him, feeling violated. He wasn’t even looking at me. “I don’t—” “You can deny all you want,” he said, cutting me off once more, “but denying something doesn’t make it less true. Look, what I’m saying is that, would you and Cedric get back together if you told each other how you really feel? Sometimes, feelings aren’t enough to bury the past and all the shit that happened between now and then.” My chest constricted, feeling pissed that he could talk about this so indifferently, hurt that he could regard my feelings this way—like they didn’t matter. Before I could stop myself from retaliating, I was already saying, “Is that how you feel about Sarah?” The shock was written evidently on his face. He stared at me, unblinking, taking more than a second for him to recover.

“Here’s your ice cream,” the ice cream vendor suddenly spoke behind us, completely clueless. There might have even been a faint smile on his face that was clearly meant to say something like How nice to be young and in love. I took one of the cones from him and glanced at Seth, who was still staring at me in shock. “How do you know about Sarah?” he asked me. I didn’t bother answering him, turning away to walk back to the group. He reached for my arm, holding me in place. “Who told you about Sarah?” Jerking my hand away, I looked over my shoulder and leveled my gaze with his. “You’re not the only one who can know other people’s secrets.” I knew I was being a jerk, that I should diffuse this bomb before it went off, blowing things to pieces. I almost stopped to say sorry, to tell him I didn’t mean to bring it up that way, but walking away, my throat feeling tight, seemed like the best idea. “Is that mint choco chip ice cream?” Alyssa asked me when I got back. I looked down at my cone. I swallowed, trying to get past the lump in my throat, and nodded. “Yes. I think so.” My mind went back to that moment when he smiled that stupid smile of his, telling me I’ll love it, like he knew my feelings better than I did. When I took a taste, I almost wanted to kill him because, as always, he was right. And I hated him for it. --- “Okay. Spill.” Alyssa and Lily both gave me condescending looks as they crossed their arms over their chests after being dragged to the female comfort room one ride later. “What?” I said. “Did you and Seth have a fight? Wait, duh, of course you did. What I mean is, what did you fight about?” Alyssa plowed on bluntly. “You two have been avoiding each other for the past thirty minutes.” It was true. We’d been circling each other like boxers in the ring, not even our usual fights where we throw glares at each other and argue directly about it. I almost wished I hadn’t done anything because it ruined the mood and, well, probably other things as well. “It’s nothing. It’ll pass,” I told them, trying to sidestep to get to the door. They blocked me, letting me know they weren’t letting me get away that easily. I considered keeping my mouth shut until they give up and leave me alone, but seeing their faces, I knew it wasn’t going to work. I sighed. “Seth’s a moron.” They rolled their eyes almost simultaneously. “Um, duh, tell us something we don’t know,” Lily said, making me laugh for a second there. “Guys, really. It’s stupid. It’ll pass.” A look passed between them and they suddenly both softened. Alyssa’s shoulders relaxed as she released a sigh. “Okay. I understand if it’s something private. Sorry if we’re overreacting, it’s just that, well, I’d never really seen Seth this happy before and it would be—oh my god , you are not breaking up, are you?” Well, that escalated quickly. “Um, I don’t think so,” I managed to say. Not that we were really going out in the first place. “Then what’s the point of staying mad at each other?” Lily said. “That guy is an idiot and is mostly a pain in the ass, but he’s really not that bad. If it really is nothing, you should talk to each other. Try to work it out.” I told them I would, but we all knew I wasn’t all that convincing, but they dropped it. It wasn’t that I didn’t get what they were trying to say—I get it. I knew staying mad at each other was not an option. I knew that, but that didn’t mean I was willing to face him now, not after what we both said, the two of us knowing exactly which words would cut deep. When we got back to the group, with me still refusing to look at Seth in the eye, there was a weird moment where I swear they’d all just telepathically talked to each other and I did not have a good feeling about it. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, my intuition proved to be somewhat accurate, because here I was, stuck in a Ferris wheel with nobody else but Seth after they practically threw us in. Me. Seth. Stuck in a ride with no possible escape (unless I jumped off, which for a second I actually considered). What could possibly go wrong?

Uhmm... Nice one....

Chapter Twenty I would rather jump off the Ferris wheel if it meant not having this conversation with Seth. He cursed under his breath as the ride started to move. I held back a couple of curse words as well. The car was big enough for six people, but the confined space didn't seem enough to hold the two of us and the weight of the words left unsaid between us. You know how sometimes it feels as if the tension in the air was enough to suffocate you? That was exactly how it felt as we rose higher, neither of us saying anything. "I didn't think you knew about Sarah," he finally said, halfway up the highest point of the ride. Was it really this high? I wasn't afraid of heights or anything, but I felt nervous. "I don't really," I said. "Know about Sarah, I mean." For some reason, I kept clasping and unclasping my fingers on my lap, fidgeting like an idiot. For the first time since the fight, I raised my gaze to his, only to find him looking at me like he was trying to figure me out. There was something about the way he stared openly, not bothering to hide the fact that he was trying to see something beneath the surface, that made me look away. "You have your Cedric, I have my Sarah," he said. "Was the mix in the car for her? The one with Yellow?" I could almost see him struggle to say the word, but he managed to force it out. "Yes." I waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. He dropped his gaze. "When you said you'd been in love before," I said, "was it with her?" He let out a pained breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Pretty much." I was aching to ask him what happened between them. I couldn't remember a time when Seth Everett had a girlfriend. Was it before he became popular? Come to think of it, Seth hadn’t always been popular. They must have broken up before he became popular. Did that mean Sarah was a "nobody" (as high school cliches go)? If she wasn't, this story between Seth and her wouldn't be so out of the student rumor mill. "You think I don't get it. You think I don't understand. But I do." Seth looked out the view, compelling me to look as well. It almost took my breath away. The view was magical. There were lights everywhere. From way up here, the colorful lights from the rest of Cloudland seemed like glittering stars on the ground. Those from the nearby neighborhoods twinkled, transforming the night into something breathtakingly beautiful. "I know how it feels as if you've given everything to that one person. I know how it feels to see her walking towards you in the hallway and you suddenly stop and think 'This is it. I've found her' and everything you do everything you say, everything that matters is for her." His tone was flat, but his voice was unsteady. His words tumbled out like he couldn't control them. From where I sat, I could see his fingers were almost trembling. "In your head, you can see yourself growing up with her and even without talking about it, there's this unspoken commitment between you. You believe that it's her, it's her, it's her and it will only ever be her." It was hard not to mix up my feelings for Cedric with the moment. Seth's words hit home, straight through the heart, missing all logic as he laid it out there. "And suddenly it's gone," I said quietly. "And suddenly it's gone," he repeated. A quiet settled over us as we let the words hang in the air. I wanted to ask more, to know more about what really happened between them. But thinking about Cedric and how I would feel if Seth began to pry, I knew it wasn't right for me to do so.

"I'm sorry," I said. "For earlier." But it was meant for more than just that stupid fight. "I'm sorry too," he said. I had a feeling he was referring to more than just the fight as well. That was when it hit me, looking at him and the distant look in his eyes, looking like he was reliving a moment or a whole other part of his life entirely. I realized, then, as we reached the peak of the roller coaster, something I should have seen way, way before. Seth Everett had gotten his heart broken by this girl named Sarah before. And he was still in love with her. “You know, everyone really likes you,” he said after a beat. There was something in his voice that told me he wanted the topic to change. I couldn’t really blame him, but I was dying to ask more and more about Sarah. Does she go to the same school as us? Do I know her? Was she the one who broke up with Seth? I pushed the questions out of my mind, knowing it wasn’t my place to ask them at all. The expression on Seth’s face as he said those words—“it’s her, it’s her, it’s her and it will only ever be her”— was something I’d never seen before, not even when we talked about his sister. And for some unexplainable reason, seeing him look as vulnerable and broken as that made me angry at Sarah, feeling surprisingly protective of Seth. “They only like me because I’m your ‘girlfriend,’” I finally said, realizing I had no choice but to let the topic drop. “No. They really like you,” Seth said with a trace of laughter in his voice. “Did you know Alyssa and Lily pulled me aside earlier and threatened to castrate me if I ever, ever screwed things up with you?” “That sounds like them, all right,” I said, laughing as well. As the mood shifted, Seth scooted closer to me. “I should have seen this was coming. They always meddle when it comes to this stuff. Throwing us alone together seems exactly like the kind of thing they’d do.” “They’re”—I swallowed past the lump in my throat —“they’re really good friends.” “You think so too?” Seth smiled. “Yeah, they can be annoying at times, but they’re pretty awesome.” He then proceeded to tell a stories about them, telling me some of their inside jokes and the times Lily got really drunk and told Dan she likes him (which was how they ended up as a couple) and that time when they made fun of Justin and called him ‘Biebster’ for a while. I hadn’t realized how comfortable I’d grown around him if I hadn’t noticed that we were now sitting side by side. Our shoulders were pressed together, the fabric of his jacket against my bare skin, as he animatedly told me a disturbingly detailed story of Warren throwing up the one time he decided to drink alcohol, which was how he ended up vowing never to drink again and become the designated driver. I realized I wasn’t exactly scooting away from him. In fact, from way up here, with the chilly night air biting against my skin, I was sort of thankful for the warmth from Seth. “They’re really a happy bunch,” I said. “I’m sorry if I suddenly intruded in your group or anything.” “What the hell are you talking about?” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I already told you they adore you.”

On the third rotation as we neared the ground, I caught sight of them, waiting patiently by the Ferris wheel, eating some cotton candy. “I feel bad,” I admitted. "It's just that," I struggled to come up with the right words, and ended up saying, "they're really rooting for the two of us. And it makes me feel guilty because it's not real. None of this is real." "Then," he said, leaning closer, "let's make it real." He looked at me through his eyelashes, dead serious, his hair falling across his forehead. My mind went blank. His blue eyes continued to pierce through mine and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as my mind scrambled to make sense of what he just said. His words wouldn’t seem to connect in my mind, like constellations with stars that drifted apart in a cosmic mess. Then he grinned, ruffling my hair in that familiar way that he always does. "Relax. I'm just kidding." He looked out at the view as once again, we reached the highest point of the ride. “Man, I’m starving. How long is this ride anyway?” I collected my thoughts, willing my heart to stay still. “Hey, I was just joking,” Seth repeated when he noticed my sudden muteness. “Like that would ever happen, right?” Finally, in a tone that didn’t quite match the fuzzy mess my mind had become, I managed to say, “Not even in your dreams.” “Right.” He nudged me with his elbow again. “So relax, okay?” I’d been telling my heart the exact same words. --- I hadn’t expected myself to be so tired, but on the ride home, I found myself fighting the urge to fall asleep. When we’d gotten off the Ferris wheel earlier, everyone looked at us expectantly and literally jumped in joy (Alyssa) when they saw us holding hands. Seth had suggested it, for him to get out first and offer his hand to help me, and walk over towards them with our hands held together. “It would be easier than to say, ‘Hi guys! Look, we made up!’” he had told me. He was right. Satisfied, they didn’t ask any questions as we looked for something to eat. After that, we (quite reluctantly) went home. Just as I was about to get in the car earlier, Alyssa stopped me and asked for my number. “I realized I didn’t have your number yet,” she had said, “and since you’re a part of us now, we should definitely be hanging more often.” Then she hugged me goodbye. Now, seated in the passenger’s seat as Seth drove, I tucked my feet in front of my and hugged my knees, resting my head against the window as my eyelids started to feel heavy. “Hey, you can’t sleep. That would be so unfair to me,” Seth said, just as I was slipping away. I stifled a yawn, with every intention of ignoring him as everything in me started to loosen up, exhausted from the rides and everything. “I can’t believe we have school again tomorrow,” he said. “Also, my mom’s coming back.” Right. His mom. That meant I had to go home and face mine. I’d almost forgotten that my stay in his house was temporary. I wasn’t sure if the disappointment I was feeling was because I didn’t want to go home or because I wanted to stay. “Did you have fun?” he said. “Mm-hmm.” “That’s good,” he said. “I’m glad.” I sneaked a sideways glance at him. There was a faint smile on his face, barely there. My eyes fluttered close, the image of his smile the last thing on my mind as I fell asleep.

Interesting, keep up d good work shaxee

Chapter Twenty One I remember that I'd almost drowned when I was young. I can’t recall much of the details, but I remember clawing through the chlorinated water, kicking uselessly as the water continued to suffocate me. A random, middle-aged guy had managed to save me. I had never been more scared my entire life. As Cedric's question hung in the air, I felt as if I was jolted back to that time. Scared shitless, desperate to breathe, looking for a way out but there was nothing I could do on my own as the water engulfed me. "What do you want?" Seth asked from beside me. The others had fallen silent, eyeing Cedric suspiciously. He ignored Seth and looked at me with pleading eyes. I struggled to breathe normally, reminding my lungs to inhale and exhale. I didn't know he still had this effect on me. "Please," he said, his warm brown eyes boring into mine. Seth opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it. "Okay." "Kyla." Seth forced me to look at him, his eyes asking a silent question. I shrugged and stood up. Almost instinctively, he reached out and grabbed me by my elbow. "You don't have to, Ky," he said. I didn't know what to say to that, so I bent down and kissed him. "I won't be long." Was it my imagination or did Cedric's jaw tighten? Wordlessly, we set out to the courtyard. I could almost see him struggle to say something on our way, but he decided to keep quiet until we got there. There were a few students milling around and we chose a spot that was far enough to give ourselves some privacy. Then he said, "Your mom is really worried." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Is that all?" He let out a ragged breath, and that was when I realized how miserable he looked. Dark circles ringed his bloodshot eyes. "Have you been staying at Seth Everett's house?" It felt like talking to a stranger. This new Cedric and new me, facing each other in an uncomfortable conversation either of us wanted to have. "What of it?" I said. "Kyla," he said, "he's not worth it." "And you are?" I scoffed. Unbelievable. "He's bad news. You're smarter than this and--" "I don't give a fuck about what you think." I glared at him. "You don't even know him, you judgmental motherfucker." He seemed taken aback. "He's not exactly that hard to read, Kyla. He's a player. He will only--" "Break up with me out of the blue?" My voice broke at the last word and I cursed myself for it. "Without even telling me why?" "It's complicated." He barely choked the words out. When I looked up to meet his gaze, there were unshed tears on his eyes. He shook his head. "I didn't mean for things to end this way." "In what way, Cedric? With me getting a life you're not a part of?" I fought the tears back and tried to keep my voice calm, struggling to show him I was fine, I was fine, I was fine. "Yes," he said, exasperated. "Exactly that. You changed the moment we broke up." "You're blaming this on me? You're the one who broke up with me for no apparent reason." I could feel myself drowning again, blindly clawing through the flooding surge of emotions rising from the part of my heart I thought I'd locked long ago.

"You think I broke up with you for no reason? I wouldn't, Ky. You know I wouldn't." He was on the verge of tears. I almost reached out to him. Cedric hardly ever cried. He made sure he was strong enough for both of us. At that moment, looking at him made it hard to remember why we weren't together, why there was an impossibly large distance between us, why I hadn't already taking that step that would close it. "It's not like you ever told me why." "I told you it's complicated." He shook his head. "I have my reasons." "Then why don't you tell me now?" I fought the urge to yell, clenching my hands into fists. "I deserve an explanation." "It's not that simple." He let out another ragged breath. "Kyla, don't let it be this way." "What do you fucking want from me?" "Kyla." He reached for me and I flinched away. He dropped his hand, but not his gaze, and for a second I thought I'd seen a flash of hurt at the blatant rejection. "Kyla, I," he stopped, running his fingers through his hair. "Stay away from Seth Everett. He will only hurt you." "I thought I made it clear nothing you say will change anything. So, if you'll excuse me." "Kyla, I'm sorry," he said, making me stop dead in my tracks. I willed myself not to look at him. "Yeah," I forced myself to say, "You should be." --- "Are you okay?" Seth took a running start when he saw me crouching by his car. I stood up when he was near enough. I'd texted him I was skipping the rest of lunch after my talk with Cedric, and he called me right away, demanding to know where I was, and was out in a second. "I'm fine." I looked away to hide my tears. I still don't know why I let him know where I was, knowing I was a mess and I hated letting people see me cry. I guess the thought of having someone with me was better than the thought of desperately trying to erase the last five minutes and everything that happened. "Jesus, idiot. You're not fine at all. Let me see you." He cupped my cheeks and turned my face to his. "What did he want?" He used his thumb to wipe a stubborn tear. "Oh, you know." I sniffled, internally scolding myself for being so dramatic. "The usual. Apparently, I should stay away from you." "Wow. First the freshmen. Now Cedric. What, are we star- crossed lovers now? Everyone's out to get us." I couldn't help but laugh stupidly through tears. "It appears so." "It's basically a modern day Romeo and Juliet, I tell you." "Oh, Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?" I went along. "My, my, if we let them have their way and break up, I will end up getting castrated." "Oh, dear no. We certainly have to save your balls." I couldn't help but laugh, and then I said, "This reminds me of the mix in your car. Catching Juliet. The one for Sarah." "Yeah. I guess it does, huh?" He released me and leaned back against his car, side by side with me. We stayed silent for a while. "So, did he ask you?" he said moments later, playing with a candy wrapper with the toe of his shoe. "Ask me what?" "For you two to get back together."

Intresting

I snorted. "Yes, and pigs could fly." I saw him open his mouth to comment on this, but I cut him off and said, "No, Seth. He didn't. And if he had, I wouldn't have cared." The lie rolled off my tongue easily, but we both knew it was exactly just that. A lie. "Did he ever tell you why he broke up with you?" he asked me. I scoffed. "He said it was complicated. Asshole." Cedric was always straightforward when it came to things that really matter. It was completely unlike him to do this. What was it that he couldn't actually tell me? "What if his reasons are, I dunno, reasonable, what then?" he asked me. "What do you mean by that?" "Will you forgive him? Stop hating him and go back into his arms?" I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to know my answer. So instead I said, "I wouldn't risk the safety of your balls, Seth." He shook his head, laughing, "Ah, Kyla Evans, the Guardian of thy Balls." I laughed. A moment passed. I waited for him to ask more questions, but he kept quiet. "Seth?" "Yeah?" "Why did you decide to help me?" He shoved his hands into the pockets if his hoodie. "Why not?" "I'm serious." He contemplated it for a second. I was sure he wasn't going to answer me, so I was surprised when he did. "I offered my help," he said, "because it looked like you needed it." "I was fine on my own," I muttered. "Yeah, but that's the point. You were just fine, but being just fine should never be enough. You deserve more." I blinked, falling silent. "I told you I'd been there before." "For all your talk about moving on, it's obvious you're still hung up on Sarah," I said. He considered this for a while. "That's differrent." He sounded almost sad, and it made me feel bad for bringing it up. I was miserable enough for the two of us. "Also, I hadn't been thinking of her as much as I was before," he said. "Really? Why?" He grinned. "You came along." I tried to gather my wits enough to stammer out a reply, 'tried' being the operative word. "I guess I'm too busy thinking of ways to annoy you," he added, eyes twinkling. "And worrying about the safety of my balls." "Ah, worry not," I said, forcing myself to forget that sudden jolt of... something that I felt from his words earlier. "You annoy me enough already and your balls are perfectly safe, Everett." "Good to know." He smiled before shifting back to looking serious. "For the record, I'm glad I offered to help you." I was, too, but I didn't tell him that. "We should probably go back. Lunch is almost over." --- At half past eight, Seth parked a few houses from my house. I was unprepared to face my mother, but I knew I had no choice. "Seth," I said before I could stop myself. "I can't face her alone." I hated the way I felt so weak. It was stupid.

"Do you want me to come with you?" I avoided his eyes as I nodded. He considered this for a moment. "I think this should be completely between you and your mother." "Please?" I mentally wrinkled ny nose in disgust. Was I really this desperate? "You don't have to stay long. Just for a while." He bit his lower lip, thinking about it, before saying, "Okay. But only because you agreed to meet my mother." I let out a sigh of relief. We got out of his car and started to walk. "Let me get that," he said, taking my duffel bag from me. I was too frazzled with nerves to protest. I had no idea how this was going to happen. Will my mom be angry? Will sge shout at me and Seth? Will she even be home, or will she be out partying as usual, even though I practically ran away? "I always get to a point where I almost tell Dad about Mom," he suddenly said. "An unsent message, a missed call, an unfinished sentence. Sometimes, I would call him and say, 'Dad, I have something to tell you.' And when he asks me what it is, I can never bring myself to say it. And I keep wondering why, but I can never answer it myself." I knew he just told me about something personal and something about this compelled me to say, "Sometimes, I wish it was Mom instead of Dad." Admitting it out loud made me feel sick, especially when Seth took a sharp breath. "I know I'm horrible for thinking this way. It’s unfair to Mom and I hate myself for having these thoughts, but I can’t—” "Kyla." He stopped walking and held me in place with one hand on the crook of my elbow. "I think you just miss your dad." "I hate it. I hate myself for having these thoughts." "Don't be too hard on yourself," he said. "Your mom hasn't exactly done anything to reassure you. She's never around for you, so you feel this way. But you should give her a chance, okay?” I nodded, silent, as we resumed walking towards my house in silence. There was an odd sense of reassurance to have Seth with me, at least for this short while. I expected for Mom and I to end up screaming at each other. I expected angry words and hurtful looks, maybe even a few flying objects (okay, not really). What I didn’t expect, though, as the door opened was for Mom to look at me and Seth, a relieved expression making its way onto her face as she pulled me in for a hug. Or a choke hold, seeing as it nearly took my breath away. “Kyla! Don’t you ever, ever go away like that again.” My mom was not a hugger and I awkwardly just stood there. She pulled away and I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Mom, I—” “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” she said. “I wasn’t sure how you would—” “Mom. It’s fine. I overreacted.” I surprised myself by being this calm. The moment I saw the tears in her eyes, I flashbacked to the days my father’s health started to worsen. It was only during those times that my mother ever let me see her cry. Staring at her now, Seth’s words from earlier echoed in my brain. Seth shifted uncomfortably. “Hey, Ky, I’ll go ahead.” He squeezed my hand. “Um, bye, Rachel,” he told my mom before walking away. I almost called out to Seth, not sure if I could do this alone, but he was already halfway to his car. “Let’s talk inside,” Mom said, ushering me in.

I wasn’t sure about it, but I knew I had to talk to her. --- I woke up to my phone’s message alert tone. I almost chose to ignore it, but thought it was weird to receive a random text at—I opened my eyes to check the clock on my bedside drawer—2:43 a.m. At first, I was taken aback by the fact that I was sleeping on my bed in my bedroom, as if I’d grown accustomed to sleeping over at Seth’s house, but then I thought back to this evening. Mom told me about Norman, the guy she’s currently dating, and filled me in on the details. She apologized for having kept it a secret. “I know you love your father and I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” she had told me. I kept quiet the whole time, only occasionally telling her it was fine, just fine. In the end, I did end up feeling better. Maybe I should have told her about the fact that I hate it when she’s never home, never around, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. There was, however, a reassurance I felt when I saw her crying, letting me know, or at least think, that she still cared. I felt tired by the time I went up my room and was immediately knocked out. Only to be woken up by this weird creeper texting at two fucking a.m. I can’t sleep. You up? It was Seth. I literally groaned into my pillow. I closed my eyes again, determined to ignore the text and pretend this never happened. Just as I was falling asleep again, the fucking phone rang. Mentally murdering Seth, I answered the phone. “What do you want?” “Hey! I knew you’d be up,” Seth said, sounding much too awake and much too happy at such an hour. “I’m hanging up,” I said. “Wait, no, no! Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.” “And you couldn’t have done earlier?” “I did tell you that I always think of ways to annoy you,” he said. I swear I could hear the smirk in his voice. “I also called because I can’t fall asleep.” “Why the fuck did you —” “I’m finding it difficult to sleep without hearing you snore beside me,” he said. “I don’t snore.” “Yes, you do. I would know. And also I kind of miss having someone to sniff all night.” “Seeeeth,” I begged. “What’s wrong with calling—” I groaned, wishing I was asleep and not having this conversation. I hung up and cut him off, closing my eyes and forcing myself to fall asleep. My phone rang again. Ugh. Picking it up without opening my eyes, I said, “What the fuck do you want?” There was a long pause. And then the words, “I actually kind of, uhm, miss you.” He fake-coughed the last part out. He did? Did I just hear Seth say he misses me? I bit my lower lip as I felt something tugging at me from the back of my mind. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there, stubbornly fighting its way into my subconscious. “You are so lame.” “You were supposed to say you miss me too.” “But I don’t.” “Right.” I could see picture the smile on his face perfectly. “But seriously. How are things with your mom?”

I luv dis

Thumbs up

Was he ever going to let me sleep? “We’re fine.” “I thought I told you never to settle with ‘fine.’” “Things don’t get fixed overnight, Everett.” I gave up on the idea of getting rid of him. I might as well get it over with. “Why are you still awake?” “I did tell you, I find it hard to sleep without sniffing you.” “I’m serious,” I said. “What kind of horrible, horrible person calls at 2 in the morning?” “A person who misses you?” “I’m hanging up if you —” “It’s Dad,” he said quickly, silencing me. I suddenly felt bad for killing him in my head thrice. He was quiet for a while. I was about to ask him what happened, but in a voice that was completely unlike the playful Seth he had been five seconds ago, he said, “He called earlier.” Even though I wasn’t actually related to this problem at all, a feeling of dread seized me in the gut. “What did he say? Did he find out about your mom and—” “No. No, he didn’t. And that’s exactly why I can’t sleep, because,” he paused, and I heard him sigh, “he’ll be coming home in two weeks.” “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. “Sorry. I just—I shouldn’t have called you. Sorry I woke you up. I just couldn’t sleep.” “It’s okay.” It was only when I said the words that I realized they were true. I thought back to the number of times I unloaded on him, way too many times to the point that I might have even stopped feeling ashamed of showing him my weak side. There was no point in denying it any longer. I somehow ended up depending on him a lot, always being the closest person I had to a friend. We’d ended up in this semi-complicated relationship where we knew each other’s worries and problems. “What’s your mom going to do?” “I don’t know.” It was only then that I heard the exhaustion laced in his voice, here, now, talking to him over the static and the kilometers separating us. For a moment I wished I was back in that room with him, to at least let him know I was with him. “Sorry for waking you up. I realize now how stupid it was for me to call.” I raised an eyebrow at this. Unsure about what to do to make him feel better, I opted to go along with his obvious attempt to change the topic. “Well, that’s a first. You actually admitted your stupidity. Who are you and what have you done to Seth?” He laughed, and I felt relief wash over me when I heard it was genuine, not forced. It was the first time I realized Seth had a nice laugh. “Oh, you know, the pressure of always being alert for possibly getting castrated had finally gone to my head. A man can only go so far without worrying about his balls.” “Or lack thereof.” “Ah, the horror.” “You do realize that ‘worrying about possibly getting castrated’ is synonymous to ‘worrying about Kyla possibly leaving me,’ right?” I said. “Yeah, and I hope you don’t take it too personally, but I worry more about losing my balls than I do about losing you. Since, you know, I’m more attached to them.” “Oh my god, that is such a bad pun.” But I ended up laughing anyway, too loud in the quiet darkness of my room. “You laughed.”

“Because it was lame,” I reasoned. “You wish you came up with it.” “Well, you wish I was there with you.” “You wish that was true.” “You wish that was too.” He was silent, but for some reason, I could perfectly envision him smiling. “Maybe.” I bit my lower lip, trying not to smile. “Only because you want to sniff me, you perv.” “Why, of course. What other reason could there be?” “Oh, you know. Pancakes… eggs…” He groaned. “Now I’m really depressed. I already miss breakfast.” “So you actually are depressed?” I said. “About your Dad.” I wrinkled my nose, realizing how blunt that was. Not my best moment. “Not that much anymore.” I could hear his quiet breathing. “Thanks to you.” There was something about the way he said it that told me he meant it. “But you have to be prepared to face the repercussions of waking me up at two in the morning.” “If it meant hearing you laugh,” he said, the sincerity in his voice momentarily knocking all the air out of me, “I think it was worth the shot.” It was so unexpected and so cliché at the same time, and I felt stupid for letting it affect me more than it should have. “Your pun wasn’t that funny.” “Your lies aren’t that convincing.” I rolled my eyes. “Good night, Seth.” He laughed. “Okay. Good night, Ky.” I can’t believe how easy it was to fall into a conversation with Seth. In fact, the only reason I took the initiative to end the call was because it was so easy to talk to him, it seemed like it could go on forever, and for some reason, that thought made me feel all weird inside. Just before stuffing my phone under my pillow, it buzzed (I learned my lesson and put it on silent mode) with a text.

You are such a wonderful writter.. Four stories, same meaning but different dimension.. you are just #GOOD.. Next please

Nice work dude

Chapter Twenty Two When the bell rang, I quickly scrambled to gather my things and make my way out. I was looking forward to lunch. Seth had picked me up earlier, saying it’s a typical boyfriend thing to do. In the car, I expected him to bring up the conversation last night, but he didn’t. I went along. He was unusually quiet on the ride over and I figured he was still worried about his dad. Not that I asked him. If he wanted to talk about it, he would have brought it up. He didn’t seem like himself during the quick kisses in between classes. Not that they weren’t good (no use denying it now). But there was something that seemed off, like there was something distracting him. I was thinking that maybe I should have asked him about it earlier this morning, and through three periods, I decided to just get it over with and ask him during lunch. Not that I was worried about him. I was just curious. I was a little freaked out at most. When Literature finally ended, I was ready bolt out the classroom. “Miss Evans? May I talk to you for a sec?” I was halfway out the door when Ms. Adams suddenly called me out. It was so out of the blue that I found myself questioning my own hearing, wondering if I’d imagined the question. I contemplated going out of the classroom but decided to look back. Upon meeting her expectant gaze, I realized it wasn’t just my imagination. “Um, sure.” I walked slowly to her desk. As far as I knew, I was pretty sure I hadn’t been failing this class. In fact, it was one of my favorite classes. I didn’t recite much in any of my classes, unless I was called by the teacher, but I was pretty sure a few points from recitation wouldn’t quite affect my grade that much. “I’ve printed a few of your works out.” She walked from behind her desk with a bunch of papers. We submit some of our assignments online on her email. She casually jumped onto her desk (I was pretty sure that wasn’t allowed) and I momentarily panicked, wondering what was wrong. Was she going to accuse me of plagiarism? Before I could figure out how react, she said, “These are really good.” I blinked, too surprised to feel relieved. “Um, thank you?” “No. Really. Are you a part of any of the writing clubs of the school?” I shook my head no. “No?” she blurted out in surprise. “You should be. They’re really good. I especially like the second poem.” Knowing which one that was, I dropped my gaze to the ground. I wasn’t sure how to react to this. I didn’t think they were anything exceptional. I loved reading and I guess I grew comfortable with letters and words over time. “Thank you. I didn’t think it was good. And I thought it was bordering on being grammatically incorrect.” “Poetic license,” she said simply, reaching for her bag and started to rummage through it. “And you put it to good use. How often do you write?” “I don’t really,” I said sheepishly. “Write that much, I mean.” “You should.” After a few more moments, she finally fished some sort of flyer from her bag. “There’s this writing seminar I go to every so often. I was informed there was this contest for teenage writers. Your poems are lovely and I was wondering how well you write in prose.” She handed me the flyer. I took it from her reluctantly, more than just a little stunned. “You have a lot of potential,” she said. “Are you interested in joining?”

It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested. I just wasn’t sure because I didn’t feel like I was actually good. Maybe it was only Ms. Adams who thought that way. I wasn’t confident about the whole thing at all. Still reeling from the shock at having been singled out this way, I couldn’t quite make out the details of the contest even as I stared at the flyer. Deciding to be honest, I said, “I’m not—I don’t —I really don’t think I’m that good.” “Why is that?” “Um, I’m not much of a writer,” I admitted. “Everyone’s a writer. Your whole life is a story. The choices you make each day define what kind of story it is,” she said without missing a beat. “Some people are just better at using words than others. I am deeply fascinated by your work, Kyla.” I wasn’t ever really that good at anything. I wasn’t like Hail, who was an artist. I wasn’t like Cedric, with his passion for music. I didn’t have anything I was especially good at and I was fine with that. My thoughts whirred to a stop as the word registered to my mind. Fine. And I shouldn’t settle for “just fine.”Thinking back to Seth’s words, a newfound confidence made me look up at Ms. Adams. “Um, can I—is it—is it okay if I think about it?” She looked relieved, to say the least. “Yes. Yes, please do. I’d be delighted if you decide to join.” “Will I be representing the school or is it, umm.” I quickly looked down at the flyer, scanning it for the details, telling my brain to work, but all I could make out was that the flyer was rectangular in shape. I fought the urge to slap myself to somehow shake my brain to make it work. “No, no, no. It’s individual. There is, however, a preliminary elimination where you have to send a sample of your work. The details are on the flyer.” She straightened up and started to fix her things. “Tell me when you’ve decided. I’d be glad to help you.” “I will.” I folded the flyer, careful not to ruin it. I wondered if she could see that my hands were trembling. “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Miss Adams.” As I hurried out of the classroom, I almost expected her to take it back. Or to burst out "Just kidding! As if you'd win a contest like that!" But she didn't. A grin slowly spread across my face. I must have looked like an idiot, walking along the corridor grinning like a crazy person, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Only when I spotted Seth patiently waiting by my locker, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest, did I snap out of the dream-like trance I’d fallen into after the conversation with Ms. Adams and remembered my earlier predicament. "Hey," I said, opening my locker to deposit my stuff. "Sorry to make you wait. Miss Adams —she—umm—she asked me to stay behind.” He pushed himself off the locker. “No problem. Is everything okay?” I unlocked my locker, getting the combination wrong the first time (my mind was still reeling from the initial shock of talking to Ms. Adams). "Um, she asked me to do this... thing," I replied. The corner of his lips twitched up. “Gee, Kyla, I've certainly never heard of such specific details before." He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Aside from that, you do realize that sounded vaguely pornographic, right? I mean, this thing? Seriously?" I could feel my cheeks heat up. "That's only because you have a dirty mind." I slammed my locker shut with more force than I intended.

Lovely,just giv it a try kyla

Next.... I can't wait to read what end their fakerelationship or friendship.....

"No, it really is sort of disturbing. What is this thing you speak of, my little porn star?" A couple of guys looked over and I immediately flushed red. Before I could stop myself, I suddenly launched into an embarrassing series of incoherent rambling. "No. It's not what you think—I'm not—we're not having—he didn’t mean that—Um." Oh, somebody shoot me now. I would have gladly shoved my foot into my mouth as the guys continued to look at me awkwardly. I grabbed Seth's hand. "Let's go get some lunch." He was snickering behind me as I dragged him, feeling completely embarrassed. "Oh, my god, I can't believe that just happened. This is your fault!" "Priceless. Simply priceless. Smooth save, Kyla." I slapped his arm. "You called me a fucking porn star, and now they probably think— ewww." It was revolting to even think about it and I shuddered at the thought. Clearly amused by my humiliation, a smug smile was on his face. I had to physically restrain myself from wiping it off. "Fucking porn star. I believe that’s sort of redundant." "I am this close to tackling and strangling you right now, and I will tie you up before—" "Whoa, I love it when you talk dirty to me, but easy there, Miss Porn Star.” My mouth dropped open as he winked at me. "You are such a dog!" "Dog? Oh, you prefer that style over the—" I thought I couldn't get any redder than I already was, but I obviously thought wrong because I could feel my blush growing stronger. "Oh, my god, stop it. Stop it." He was laughing so hard I almost wanted to kill him on the spot. "It's your fault for being so vague." He was clearly enjoying this. The Seth Everett smile plastered across his face could tell me at least that much. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. Seeing him so happy made me want to shove my foot in his mouth. Wait, that sounded vaguely pornographic too, in that feet fetish sort of way. Oh, my god, Seth Everett and his fucking dirty mind had now messed up my perfectly innocent thoughts. And to think I'd been sort of, kinda, just a little bit worried about him. "You belong in a mental hospital." "Ah, but you'd go crazy from missing me so much that you'll eventually end up there too." "I seriously doubt that." "I seriously doubt that you doubt that," he retorted easily, fueling this newfound annoyance I strongly felt towards him. I was about to say something to him, but the words were lost when in my mind when I saw Hail up ahead. Her forehead was pressed against her locker, shoulders slumped. Her hair, as usual, was in a messy bun on top of her head but something about the way she stood made it look messy bad, rather than her usual messy good style. Here was the girl who stood by me when I struggled to find my place during freshman year. The girl who gave me the pineapple toppings on her pizza just because she knew how much I loved them. The girl who wasn’t afraid of making a fool of herself if it meant saving me from humiliation (Spring Fling, sophomore year—long story). It was so easy to reach out and ask her what was wrong. I could literally just walk over and tap her shoulder. I almost did, actually, but the memory of her calling me a bitch during that picnic burned into my mind, and I couldn’t stand it. Seth must have noticed the immediate stiffness of my shoulders and he looked at me warily, but kept quiet as we walked past Hail.

I was torn between feeling relieved that I was able to ignore her and feeling horrible for walking away when I knew there was clearly something wrong. I found it difficult to take a step farther, too aware of the growing distance I was leaving between the two of us. But all that we ever had is gone now, and it was this thought that propelled me to walk straight ahead. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to her?" Seth said, grabbing the sleeve of my blouse. I hadn't realized I was walking faster than I intended to. "I'm more than just pretty sure." He didn't call me on the obvious lie. It was a good decision of his because I wasn't sure how I would take it, considering how emotionally unstable I was at the moment. Not well, I assumed. Desperate to change the topic, I finally asked him about his weird attitude since this morning. "What weird attitude?" He seemed genuinely surprised at the question, looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed. I was pretty sure I hadn't just imagined it. "It's like you’re sort of distracted. Like you're worried about something." The image of Hail, looking miserable in the hallway, made its way into my mind. It struck me how different things were compared to how they would have been Before. If things hadn't changed so drastically, I would probably be with Hail right now, directing these questions to her instead of Seth. "Is that so?" He shrugged. "I'm blaming it to the fact that I didn't get to eat your cooking for breakfast." "Is this still about yout dad?" I decided being straightforward was the only way I could get him to talk. In the short time we’d known each other, I recognized this forced nonchalance of him as his way of changing the topic. "Sort of." He was tugging at the collar of his shirt, letting me know he was very much uncomfortable with the fact that I kept pushing the topic. Highly frustrated, I heaved a frustrated sigh and said, "What is that supposed to mean? Is something else bothering you?" A tight-lipped smile was on his face. "I told you, I just miss your pancakes. That's all." I hardly ever tried to push him into telling me these things, but that was because he never let it bother him so much that it would affect his attitude. He had his secrets, but he also had this perfect act that he had going on the surface, and it barely ever slipped. But this time, something was bothering him enough that his mask wasn’t exactly flawless. "You can tell me about these things, you know,” I tried again, though I knew he didn’t want to. Truth is, I wasn’t even sure why I was worried. "I know." He placed one hand on top of my head, ruffling my hair in a gesture that is now as familiar to me as breathing is. "But you really don't have to think about me." If we hadn't already reached the cafeteria, I might have continued my attempts at trying to force him into telling me. It was frustrating how he refuses to tell me about the things that actually matter to him—first, Sarah, and now this. Thinking about it, the only time he actually willingly told me anything was when he told me about his sister Sam and his mom’s affair, and he only did that because of the Question Game we were playing. Maybe I should suggest playing it again. If I wasn’t mistaken, we gave each other ten questions each and we didn’t get to use all of them. I momentarily cursed myself for not remembering how many questions we still had left, but if I wasn’t mistaken, we had around six or seven left. I should find a way to unpause the game somehow.

Nice write up dear

This is just getting much more interesting episode by episode!. Next please

Thumbs up man,u'r gud

“You never told me what Miss Adams wanted to talk to you about.” Seth was driving me home when he brought it up again. I stopped rummaging through his CDs long enough to recall that little porn conversation we had. Wait, that sounded wrong. Stifling a groan at the memory, I picked up the All Time Low album—Nothing Personal— I’d casually dismissed back then and put it on. “Um. She asked me if I was interested in joining this writing competition.” The flyer was safely tucked between my books in my bag. I was surprised I hadn’t already burned a hole through it, seeing as I’d spent the rest of the day staring at it and studying the details. The deadline for the sample submission was at the end of the month, just two weeks from now. The results from the pre-elimination would be sent to us through e-mail by the end of the holiday break, a full month from the deadline. “You write?” he said. “That’s the point. I don’t.” The first track played, a catchy tune with mild instrumental accompaniment for the verse. I wasn’t much of an All Time Low fan— mainly because Cedric preferred the old, classic bands—but they seemed pretty good. More than just pretty good, in fact. “I mean, not really. She read my assignments and she sort of liked them, I guess.” I studied the album case—the first track was titled Weightless, which I read just as the word came out of the scratchy speakers. “I want to read them.” “Um, no. I’m really not that good,” was my immediate reply. “Says the girl joining a writing contest.” The music began picking up. “It’s not—I don’t—I haven’t even decided if I was going to join.” I fiddled with the album case. “I don’t really think I’m good enough to join.” “Don’t be stupid. It’s not like you’d lose anything by joining,” he said it matter-of-factly, eyes on the road. “See, listen to the song. Go up and do something. Don’t waste another minute pass with you going nowhere.” I rolled my eyes at him, but the truth was, I was really considering it now. The music blasted, lively and upbeat and downright awesome. “So, can I read your work?” he said, sounding like he was ready to persuade me if I kept saying no. Which was exactly my reply. “Come on,” he said. “I’m just curious.” “How ‘bout I let you read my work if you let me see yours?” I suggested. “I don’t write.” “I meant your drawings.” He thought about it. I actually surprised myself by the offer I’d just made. “Does it have to be an old drawing? All my sketches are at home.” “Maybe you can stay for a while at my house to draw something.” “Okay,” he agreed slowly, almost unsurely, and then more confidently, “okay. Deal.” While listening to All Time Low (I was seriously considering stealing Seth’s album), we came up with the decision that he’d make a quick sketch of me. When he’s done, I’d let him read my work. My mom wasn’t home when we got there. I reluctantly left the CD in the car and went in. I fixed some snacks for us before climbing up to my room, Seth trailing behind me as we argued over cheese and salsa as the better dip (I was pro-salsa, of course). I hadn’t had time to clean my room up and I apologized to Seth for the mess.

“What mess?” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s basically spotless in here.” Clearly, he was blind. Can he even sketch me with those eyes of his? I doubted it. He asked for some paper and pens before settling on a spot on the floor. I set his share of the nachos in front of him and awkwardly looked around my room. “Should I, um, do I have to pose? Or something.” “Nah. Make yourself busy,” he said. “Watch some movies or something. I prefer drawing a candid portrait.” “Um. Okay.” Deciding to watch a movie on my laptop, I sat on the floor too, a few feet away from him, on a spot that wasn’t directly across him, feeling awkward about the whole thing as I propped the laptop on my makeshift pillow table (not my best idea, but meh). I half-expected him to draw a stick figure or a pig or something and call it done in a less than a minute. Knowing him, it would probably be the only reason he agreed to the whole thing. I ended up choosing Tangled among the downloaded movies on my laptop. As the minutes stretched with silence (well, other than the old hag singing to the flower), it was clear he was actually serious about drawing me. I peered at him curiously. He was looking down at the paper on his lap. He was sitting cross- legged, using a clipboard he found on my study table to support the paper. His brows were furrowed ever so slightly, completely focused on the drawing. Every so often, he would brush his hair away from his eyes, seemingly irritated. I hadn’t even realized I was staring until he looked up from the drawing and caught me. “What?” he said. Quickly looking away, I didn’t bother replying. If there was one thing I learned from thirty minutes of trying to watch a movie as Seth drew me, it was: This is impossible. I could barely understand what was happening in the movie (considering I’d watched Tangled quite a few times before, that was saying a lot). I could feel him staring at me, watching me for a short while before looking down at his drawing. I forced myself to sit still, but it was impossible not to fidget uncomfortably. Not that he asked me to stay still or anything, but it felt like I should be staying still. But staying still knowing that the possibly psychotic guy who’s been sniffing me all weekend was staring at me was really, really difficult. “If you could just stop looking constipated, that would be really good,” he said. I glared at him. “Yeah, looking like the devil is so much better than the whole constipated look you had going on. You really have a future in posing for portraits.” “This isn’t exactly comfortable,” I muttered darkly, turning back to the screen to watch Rapunzel with her frying pan. Now that I think about it, our frying pan downstairs looks a lot like the one she had with her. I fought the urge to make a quick trip downstairs to grab it and hit Seth with it. “Oh, great. Now you look like a psycho-killer. Wow, Kyla, this look really suits you.” “If you don’t shut up now, I won’t just look like a psycho-killer,” I warned him. “Just relax,” he said. “Go to your happy place. Think of rainbows and unicorns and shit.”

“All I can think of right now is strangling you.” “You are so dramatic.” “I have a cutter on my study table.” Needless to say, he shut up. After a few more incredibly awkward and uncomfortable fidgeting (me) and frustrated complaining (him), I forced myself to forget about him and his presence in the room, focusing instead on Rapunzel and Eugene singing on the boat. I’d actually managed to watch the movie (what’s left of it, anyway) and brush the uncomfortable, slightly creepy feeling of someone watching you intently. “It’s done.” I looked up from the scene where Eugene was dying. He was standing up, stretching, and I couldn’t help but watch as he raised his arms, loosening his muscles, one hand massaging the back of his neck. Seth wasn’t exactly the buff muscular type, which I never really appreciated, but he was lean and had the right muscles at the right places. Actually, his built was exactly what I would usually call— I stopped my train of thought and mentally slapped myself. “It’s just a rough sketch,” he said, almost defensively as we walked closer to me, still not showing me the paper. “And I’m not really that good.” I paused the movie and slowly clicked on the folder with my Literature assignments. A sudden feeling of uncertainty almost made me back out, not wanting to show him what I’d written. It could be possible that Ms. Adams has some sort of mental condition that could readily impair her judgment. What if he read it (I decided to choose the poem Ms. Adams liked) and laughed because it was lame? “I’m not really a good writer either,” I told him. “Maybe this was a bad idea. Yeah, it probably is. Let’s just —” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t spend an hour and a half watching you and your constipated expression for nothing.” Conceding, I clicked on the folder and opened the word file with the poem. He sat beside me, handing me the loosely rolled piece of paper as I handed him the laptop. “I’m telling you, it’s not really that good,” I said. He grunted in response and started reading. I forced myself not to look at his face to watch his reaction, so I carefully unrolled the paper instead. I gasped upon seeing the sketch. Holy shit, he was good. He didn’t bother erasing some of the unnecessary lines, but I could easily look past them as my eyes focused more on the emphasized lines. In fact, the rough lines gave off a really good effect to the whole sketch. Like an almost ethereal quality. It was mostly just my head, just a fraction of my shoulders were included in the sketch. Thank god I didn’t look constipated. Or demonic. Or psychotic. In fact, there seemed to be a slight smile on my face. It wasn’t perfect—not like the portraits you see for sale or the computer- generated ones—but it was better. Better than perfect. “Seth, this is really good,” I said, just as he let out a breathy, “Holy fuck, this is good.” We looked at each other and laughed. “You said you weren’t good!” I told him. “You can sell this! Well, no, not this, I mean, obviously not my face, but you could get people to pay you for portraits.” He looked embarrassed, a blush creeping into his cheeks. But he pointed at the screen of my laptop, “This is better. This is genius. This is pure, fucking genius.”

lol... These two are just crazy-funny! Where would these lead them to?? I'm eager to know?... Next please

Fingers crossed

“It’s not,” I replied sheepishly. “It is,” he insisted. “Can I keep this?” I asked him, carefully holding the paper in my hand. “Uh, duh?” he said. “What else am I going to do with that?” He looked at the lapto, reading the words over again. It was my turn to feel embarrassed. After a few moments, he said, “How did you come up with this?” I shrugged. “We were asked to write that after reading this poem, All Because You Kissed Me Goodnight. Miss Adams wanted us to show an emotion without having to say what it is.” “I haven’t read that.” “You should. It’s actually funny and good.” He was quiet for a moment. “This is about your Dad, right?” I bit my lower lip, nodding. “I didn’t mean it to be like that at first. I was planning to write this whole thing about someone running away, but when I began writing, I ended up thinking of Dad.” He let the words hang in the air. Hugging my knees to my chest, I said, “What was bothering you earlier?” His shoulders visibly sagged, like he didn’t have enough energy to deal with my question. “Let’s play the Question Game again,” I added. “I’m pretty sure I still have seven questions or—” “You have six. I have seven.” Wow, he remembered. “And also, it’s my turn.” “Then go ahead and ask me something.” Running his fingers through his hair, he set the laptop aside and gently snapped it shut. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” “Is that your question?” He gave me a look. “No, of course not.” “Then hurry up.” He closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine.” He reopened them. “Would you wish things had gone differently? If you were given the choice to turn back time, would you wish Cedric never dumped you and you were still best friends with Hail? Would you wish that this never—that I never— happened at all?” It felt like everything had stopped as looked me directly in the eye, an unreadable expression on his face. The question took me by surprise, and the way he asked it was even more surprising. Alyssa’s smile crept its way to my mind, along with the memory of being together with the rest. I thought of debates between mustard and mayo, of crazy roller coaster rides, of Seth ruffling my hair and teasing me and calling at two in the morning to annoy me. I thought about all this and more, trying to think of a life without those moments. My voice was barely more than just a whisper. “I wouldn’t.” I was afraid to look at his face, but curiosity got the best of me and I looked up. The unreadable mask was still on his face. “Are you telling the truth? Or are you just saying this because—” “What happened to all your bravado about seeing right through my lies?” I cut him off. A slow smile. “Right.” I cleared my throat, having had enough of this heart to heart talk with him. Man, was it always this stuffy in my room? I really should have cleaned it up or something. I squirmed a bit, trying to make myself more comfortable. A few moments of silence passed.

“I had a fight with my Mom.” His smile was gone. “This morning.” Watching him closely, I waited. “I told her if she wasn’t going to tell Dad, then I was. She didn’t take it well.” He winced, almost as if the memory of the fight physically pained him. The thought made me jolt upright, and before I could stop to even question my actions, I’d grabbed his face with both hands and began turning it side to side and up and down, inspecting it. It was only when I saw the bewildered expression on his face that I realized how randomly I acted. Backing away, I fought the urge to blush as I dropped my hands. “Um.” He began laughing at me. “Um, what?” “I thought maybe she hit you. Or something.” I cringed at my own stupidity. Oh. My. God. I was considering crawling under the bed to hide my face, feeling more than just slightly humiliated. “Nah, it wasn’t like that.” The amused smile on his face shifted to a wistful one. “But thank you.” “For humiliating myself? Yeah, glad to be of any help.” In my head, I was beginning to dig a hole deep enough for me to crawl into and hide for the rest of my life. He grinned. “Yeah. Exactly for that.” “Is she still mad?” I asked him to make the moment pass. “Your mom.” He shrugged. “I suppose. I just—I don’t know what came over me. Sometimes, I like to pretend I know nothing. That she wasn’t even having an affair at all.” He let out a harsh scoff, the sound filled with so much hatred. “It’s no wonder Cedric hates me so much. Even I hate myself.” It was the first time I heard him speak like this. There was loathing in his voice—pure, unadulterated (hey, this could be a pun) hate. And the worst part was that he was feeling it for himself. “I should tell Dad. I know about it, but I’m not saying anything, and that’s just as bad Mom. It’s like witnessing a murder and saying, ‘Oh, look, that guy killed that other guy’ and walking away like it didn’t matter.” He put both hands on his head, running his fingers through his hair. “And I hate myself for it.” “Oh, Seth.” I held his wrists and carefully pulled them away. I lowered both our hands slowly as he raised his gaze to mine. “Look. The only reason you’re not telling your Dad is probably because you know telling him would make it final. Once he knows, there’s no going back and you don’t want that.” “But it’s not right and —” “I’m not saying it’s right,” I said, my voice coming out stronger than I intended. “What I’m saying is that it’s normal. It’s a part of human nature and you can’t hate yourself for being human, because you are. We make mistakes and we fuck up a lot, and there’s no use in hating yourself for it because there’s no helping it.” I kept my eyes on his, letting him know that I meant every word. “And I won’t let you do this to yourself.” His jaw slowly grew slack, face relaxing into an exhausted expression. “Do you really think so?” “Yes,” I said, frustrated. He stared intently at me. It suddenly felt as if there wasn’t enough space between us. As the moment died down, I realized our faces were only inches apart. His electric blue eyes held me in place. We were so close I could almost feel his breath on my face. It took me a moment to realize that the distance was, in fact, growing shorter. And for a second, I swear he was going to kiss me.

Lol... Cat & Mouse Love... It shows that everybody has their own problem they are facing... I wonder why Cedric break their relationship... He has not given any reason yet! And Seth do know how to kept some secret.. Next please

Lol... Cat & Mouse Love... It shows that everybody has their own problem they are facing... I wonder why Cedric break their relationship... He has not given any reason yet! And Seth do know how to keep some secret.. Next please

I willed myself to move, to back away, but I was paralyzed. He was getting closer, closer, closer… Sniff. My eyes widened as I quickly scrambled to push him off. He sniffed me. Oh, my god. I was ready to shout profanities at him, but he was laughing, shoulders shaking. “Sorry. It was tempting.” He jumped to his feet. “Anyway, I should get going. It’s getting pretty late.” “You should be thankful I’m not already murdering you right now, and it’s only because I’m running out of places to hide dead bodies.” I shouldered my way past him and was satisfied when he let out a small oof when I knocked into him. “I’ll walk you out.” He was laughing all the way to his car. Before going in, he turned to me. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but he was still smiling. “You surprise me, Kyla Evans.” I was about to snap out a snarky remark, but before I could, he was leaning over me. My breath hitched as he planted a soft kiss on my right cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered, lips almost, almost still touching my cheek, his breath warm on my skin, “for earlier.” Everything wasn’t making much sense at that moment. Frozen as he got into the car, I stood there like an idiot, mumbling a vague no problem. Before driving off, though, his window slid open and he handed me something. Slightly dazed, I reached for it. “I could tell you liked them. Take it as my thanks.” It was the All Time Low album. He’d given it to me. I knew it was somehow important to him, seeing how all his CDs were in their right cases, all in good condition. “Bye, Miss Psycho-Killer.” I was left there, standing shell-shocked, thinking about the last sixty seconds, thinking about the moment he leaned down to kiss my cheek. It wasn’t really much of a kiss—just a slight brush, a moment’s touch, gone in a heartbeat like it never actually really happened—but my skin still felt warm long after he said goodbye.

Chapter Twenty Three I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I watched the scene play out. It was Wednesday night and I was stuck at home with nothing productive to do, so I figured I might as well watch some TV. Bad idea. When I turned it on, there was this cheesy movie about best friends falling in love with each other. It was the ridiculous best friend plot all over again. Even without watching the first half of it, I could easily tell what it was about (and how it was going to end). The girl had been friendzoned for years and the guy likes someone else, but realizes blah, blah, blah, and they end up together and drive off to the sunset to live happily ever after. It was ridiculous. That was the thing about movies. They always end during that happy moment, the perfect scene, where everything's right and there was no way anything could go wrong. Life doesn't work that way. It doesn't end when you've finally achieved happiness. What comes after that "the end"? Anything could happen. They could fall out of love. One of them might meet someone else and cheat on the other. One of them could die early. They could both realize it wasn’t working out as well as they thought it would have. One thing for sure was that something was bound to happen in the long run. For example, the guy might dump the girl for no apparent reason. Oh, wait, there is a reason, but all she gets is “It’s complicated.” That’s it. A cliché, overused line. Suddenly feeling pissed, I turned the TV off and laid back against the couch. Almost as if on cue, my phone buzzed with a text. It’s been a long time since I actually had to use my phone. Since Cedric and Hail were basically the only friends I had, I hadn’t received much texts and calls since the breakup. Sure, at first, they kept texting for a while, asking me if I was all right, asking me if everything was fine, but they eventually stopped when I began to change. Checking the phone, I expected it to be Seth, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Alyssa. Let's grab some pizza. I didn't have to think twice before typing a quick reply. We worked the details out and soon I was heading out the door. Because Seth insisted driving me to and from school, it's been a while since I last used my car. As a matter of fact, we had an argument about it yesterday while he was driving me home. I kept telling him that having a "boyfriend" does not, in any way, affect a girl's capability to drive herself. "But it's natural for the girlfriend and boyfriend to arrive to school in the same car," he had argued. "Why don't I pick you up, then?" I shot back at him with a challenging look, annoyed with the fact that his argument was so invalid. He just shrugged, a lazy grin on his face. "Because I'm sexist." Jerk. Weirdly enough, remembering that argument brought a smile to my face. When I arrived at Pizzaria (trust me, it wasn't as fancy as it sounded), Alyssa was already there. She looked up from the book she was reading when I called out to her, grinning widely and waving excitedly at me. If there was one thing I learned about her, it was that she was always quite energetic. "You wear glasses?" I asked her as I sat across from her. They weren't those hip-nerdy full-framed glasses that were popular these days. They were, as I call them, grandma glasses. And the ridiculous thing was that she could still totally rock them.

Pretense can't last long... You will surely fall for Seth(He has even change from player to gentleman because of you)... Just don't F' up(don't go backto/accept cedric again).. He gave no reason why he left you yet(Hope to know why soon).. Alyssa would talk more about you and Seth(Just guessing).. Next please

Nyc one,continue plss

......watching......

"Yeah, sometimes," she replied. "I usually use my contacts." She snapped her book shut. "I'm so glad you agreed to come. Everyone's busy. They all suck." I laughed. "Well, it is a school night. You really can't blame them." "Well, that didn't stop you, did it?" "I guess not." After ordering two slices of pizza each and some sour cream- flavored mojos, she immediately started to tell me about Seth's immediate reaction when he sees sour cream mojos. "I swear, even simply saying it is bound to make him run the opposite direction." "Really?" I asked her, imagining Seth the way she described him. She told me about the first time he ate them. The moment he put a piece in his mouth, his face quickly scrunched up in a ridiculously funny grimace. "It's hilarious. I'm surprised you didn't know that yet," she said. "Hasn't he taken you here before?" Shaking my head and holding myself back from saying Why can't I be the one to take him? "Not really," I said. "Seriously?" I nodded. "Wow. Where did you go on your first date anyway?" she asked me. Now that she brought it up, I realized Seth and I haven't really gone on the whole first date thing. The usual cliché with the movie and dinner, and that walk along the park or something. In fact, we hadn’t really gone on a “date” at all. Oh, wait. "We had a picnic." "A picnic?” She gave me an Are you serious? look. “Is that even a date?" By the way her brows were furrowed, I could tell it was a rhetorical question. I decided to go with the truth (well, not the whole truth) and said, "We sort of skipped the whole first date thing." The horrified look on her face made me regret being (semi-) honest. Maybe I should have made something up on the spot "You can't possibly skip the first date. How can there be a second one, a third one, a fourth one if—oh, my god. Don't tell me he hasn't taken you out on a proper date." Her eyes were impossibly wide, looking truly terrified. "No. I mean, yes. I mean, what? I mean"— I gritted my teeth together, feeling incredibly stupid for being so incredibly stupid—"We hang out a lot. Really, we do." "No." She shook her head violently. "This is unacceptable. How can he not have taken you out yet?" "I really think the picnic counts," I offered quickly. "It should count. Really. It was romantic. I had a great time." She narrowed her eyes at me, making me try to force out a convincing smile. It was probably not that convincing. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I just want everything to be perfect for you two." "Um." I almost punched myself. Why was I being a moron at times like this? I mean, um? Really? "I know how hard it is for Seth to open up his heart," she said. "And we were really worried because we thought he wouldn't. He just kept sleeping around and having fun and pretending he was all right. Then you came along." My thoughts came to a stop. Sitting there, hearing those words, I almost told her everything. It felt so wrong to lie to her. If she knew the truth, if she knew I hadn't really saved Seth like she thought, would she hate me?

"I missed that smile of his," she said. "That wide, dorky, goofy grin? I hadn't seen it for a long time. Not until he met you." I was so tempted to ask her what happened between him and Sarah. I wanted to know. I wanted to ask her so badly. It was so difficult to be the only one who wasn’t in on the secret. When Dad got cancer, I had no idea about it until he got admitted to the hospital. They left me in the dark for an impossibly long time. I never want to stay in the dark ever again. I needed to know what Sarah's deal was, because I was afraid the answer was going to slap me straight in the face harder later. I didn't want to be that girl again. That girl who was staring at the closed door at the hospital corridor, no idea what was happening to her dad on the other side of the door, no idea how bad it was, no idea that whatever was wrong, it was killing her dad. I don't want it to be like that with Seth again. "Seth never told me about Sarah," I told her. "He once told me that moving on is being able to remember something without feeling hurt. I think he hasn't completely moved on." She looked at me with an unreadable expression on her face, pressing her lips together. "Well," she said after thinking about it, "he forgot to tell you the part where moving on doesn't happen instantly. You don't just wake up one morning feeling 'Meh, I don't give a shit about that motherfucker anymore.' It's a process. Seth had been stuck in a rut for a long time, and you're the one who pulled him out of it. He might not have moved on completely yet, but he's getting there." Was it the same for me? Have I been making progress? Was I still stuck? "Don't hesitate to tell me if he ever hurts you," she said. "I'd personally give him a black-eye for being stupid and violently shove him your way until he apologizes." Seth's real girlfriend would be really, really lucky. And not just because of Alyssa and the rest--Seth himself was actually quite a catch, not that I'd ever admit that to him. That sexist pig is bigheaded enough already. "You're a really good friend," I said. "Really." "See? See? I’m an awesome friend, yet the others won't even come out for pizza with me because they're busy?" she complained with a playful eye-roll, feigning a hurt tone. Then, out of the blue, she said, "Oh, by the way, who was that guy who approached you in the cafeteria last Monday? I asked Seth, but it doesn't seem safe to take his word for it." "Why? What did he say?" "That he was 'a person with severe bacne who was convinced you had some ointment that could clear it,'" she said flatly, amused. I burst out laughing, which I hardly ever do when it comes to matters about Cedric. "He might be telling the truth," I said. "Right, because he would totally hate someone for something as simple as bacne. He was totally jealous!" Well, Seth did hate Cedric, so I couldn’t blame Alyssa for mistaking the tension between them for jealousy. If only she knew that it wasn't about being jealous at all. It was a different matter in its entirety. "He's my ex-boyfriend," I told her. "Oh. That makes sense." She was so nonchalant about the whole thing, like it wasn't that big of a deal. And I loved her for it. "Makes sense how?" "Well," she said, "it totally explains the look of terror on Seth's face when you walked out of the cafeteria with that guy. It was like he was afraid you would never come back."

There was a white plastic bag on the dining room table when I got home. My thoughts whirred to a stop as I peered inside the plastic bag. The familiar made my stomach lurch. That was the moment my mother decided to walk into the dining room. She was probably coming down for a glass of water before climbing up to her room to finish up some work. She stopped upon seeing me. "Oh. You're home," she said. "Is this from Xin Zhao's?" I asked her, pointing at the plastic bag. "Oh. Yeah," she said. "I ordered some takeout. I was planning to eat with you.” "Oh." I looked down at the floor. "Sorry. I didn't know. I had some pizza with a friend." "No, no. I should have made sure you were home." The expression on her face was so hard to look at. She was forcing out a smile, taking the blame for the whole thing. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "No. I should have told you I was going out." She looked at me, pressing her lips together. "It's okay. It was my fault.” She waved her hand in a gesture that clearly meant It’s fine, it’s fine. “Did you have fun?" I nodded. I felt so bad about the whole thing. Xin Zhao's was a Chinese restaurant at the edge of town. It was Dad's guilty pleasure. He loved everything about the place. At least once a week, we used to have these lazy nights where we'd just order some takeout and eat, straight out of the carton, the three of us together while watching some bad reality TV show. We'd never eaten anything from Xin Zhao's since the day he died. It had been nine years since then. The fact that she bought some now seemed like a big thing, like a big moment. And I missed it. “Have you eaten?” I asked her, eyeing the plastic bag, and I knew she hadn’t. "I'm not hungry," she replied. "It's fine, fine. I'll just put the food in the fridge for now and we can just heat it up tomorrow.” She forced another smile before heading to the kitchen, grabbing the plastic bag from the table on her way. I stood there for a second longer before leaving to go to my room, wondering if the night would have gone differently if I didn't go out, wondering why life always played these kind of awful tricks when you're least expecting them. At some point between taking a quick shower and watching a movie, my phone started ringing. It was, needless to say, Seth. I put the movie on pause and answered the call. I hadn't even said hello when he began talking in that confident, cocky way of his. "So tell me," he said, "why is one of my best friends sending me death threats for, I quote, being the worst boyfriend ever?" "Hello to you too," I said, turning away from the laptop and letting myself lean back against my pillows, my phone pressed against my ear. "There's no time to say hello when my friend is preparing a guillotine for my untimely death," he replied without missing a beat. "Shall I assist her with the preparations, then?" I offered. "Kyla, if you wanted me to take you out on a date, you should have just told me," he said and as usual, I could clearly imagine him smirking like the jerk he is. "No need for medieval death contraptions and my crazy best friend sending me death threats to be involved." Bigheaded jerk. "Okay, first off, I don't want to go on a date. Second, why can't I take you out on a date?"

Lol... Alyssa,did Kyla sent you to do that??? You are realy a good friend(you want what is good for Seth although you don't know whats going on between Seth & Kyla).. Thank God you(Kyla) & your mother are now back together for good! It remain Seth & His Parent issue! Next

"So you do want to go on a date,” he said in a triumphant voice. "No. I'm just making a point, you sexist pig." "You don't have to pretend to be a feminist just so we could go on a date," he tried again, making me roll my eyes at his stubborn and cocky attempts. "I really don’t want to go on a date with you," I insisted. "And I," he said, "don't want to die early. So, Saturday night sounds good to you?" "No. I don't want—" "Okay, good. I can't wait too!" he said, much too cheerfully. "Seth," I warned. "Kyla." He matched my tone. "We can just pretend we went on a date," I said. "Make up the details and stuff." "Or we can go on a real date," he shot back. "Come on. Do you really think Alyssa's going to let this go? I half- expect her to spy on us during the date." "Oh, my god, she's totally going to spy on us. I know it. She’s crazy, that girl.” I was only half-joking when I said this. "Crazy is sort of an understatement,” he replied. “What normal person threatens your life with a guillotine?" "She probably has an underground medieval torture chamber with wall braces and stuff," I said. "With enough room for the two of us when she finds out that we didn't really go on a date." "Why do you want to go to this date so badly?" I asked him. "It's not like we really have to." "Has it ever occurred to you that I might actually want to spend time with you?" He was starting to sound less cocky, more irritated. "Is this the moment where you confess your undying love for me?" I asked him in a very flat tone, every word dripping in sarcasm. "It's the moment where you should admit that you enjoy my company enough for you to agree to go on a friendly date with me." His voice rose, so I knew he was getting agitated. "Come on, Kyla." "Why do you keep assuming that I enjoy being with you?" I snapped at him. "Well, don't you?" he snapped back. "That's not the point," I said. "It's just that, you keep assuming I would go along with every little thing that you want to do without even asking me." He fell silent, so that all I could hear through the static was his quiet breathing. After a moment, he said, "Well, sorry I'm such a bother to you." His voice had lost its edge, completely devoid of emotion. "I wasn't aware you hate my company that much." "Seth, that's not what I —" He hung up. He freaking hung up on me. I looked down at my phone in shock. What the fuck just happened? The conversation was such a blur. Guillotine... Medieval contraptions... Crazy best friends... How did it go from that to me, staring in shock at my phone? Pissed, I tossed my phone (on my bed) away. Why was he turning it into such a big deal? Too mad to continue watching the movie I'd been busy with for the past thirty minutes, I decided I should just sleep and forget all this ever happened. Except, of course, I couldn't. I kept thrashing around, uncomfortable in every position as I messed up the sheets of my bed. Every so often, I would pick my phone up, only to toss it away again. It was stupid.

By two o'clock, I finally gave up and fished for my phone from the tangled covers of my bed. I sat up and before I could begin second guessing my decision, I was typing already. Are you mad? But that didn't seem right, so I deleted it and tried again. You freaking hung up on me. That wasn't exactly what I was going for either. I scowled and deleted that too. Are you still pissed? No, that still wasn't right. I groaned and let myself fall back on my bed. Why was this so freaking hard? I tried again. Are you up? Before I could change my mind, I quickly sent it. Of course, I immediately regretted my decision. I should have said something else. I should have asked if he was still angry. I should have just apologized. Or maybe I shouldn't have texted at all. Oh, my god, I never should have texted. I should call my hacker friend and have him erase the text using his broad knowledge of technology and stuff. It will be like I never even sent it. Yeah, I was going to do that. That was the best idea ever. Oh, wait. I didn't have a hacker friend. Then again, it was already two a.m. He was probably asleep by now. Yeah, knowing him, he's probably knocked out and— My phone buzzed and I (am ashamed to admit that I) yelped rather loudly in surprise. He replied. Oh, god, he replied. What was I going to do? Should I read it? Maybe I should pretend I was asleep. Yeah, I should do that. Or not. Groaning, I finally just picked my phone up and opened the message. It really took you 4 hours to finally text? Before I could reply, he texted again. And a text? Really? You couldn't have bothered to call? So I called him. He answered on the first ring. "What?" he said flatly. "Are you mad?" "What kind of horrible, horrible person calls at two in the morning?" he said, completely ignoring my question and stealing my line. "A person who can't sleep because you were a complete idiot earlier?" "Oh, so it's my fault?" Yep. He was definitely still pissed. "Well, you were the one who—" "I'm hanging up, Kyla." "I'm trying here," I said through gritted teeth. "Well, try harder," he said in the same irritated tone. "Look. I'm sorry, okay?" I snapped. "I'm sorry." Silence. Did he hang up again? I was just about to check the screen to see if he was still on the other line when he spoke again. "For what?" What? I scrunched my nose up. "For earlier." "Try harder."

Lol.... Both Kyla & Seth are just acting!!! They realy understand each other(I like*love such relationship/friendship).... I'm still eager to see what finaly end their pretense! Next

Continue plss,intresting

Hmmmmmm

I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from groaning. "For being a bitch?" I heard him sigh. "Kyla," he said, "that's not what I'm mad about. I mean, if that was it, I'd be mad at you all the time." Okay. So I'm always sort of a bitch. "Then what is it?" "I don't know. You tell me." "Seth, please." I was growing desperate here. I didn't even know why it bothered me so much. All I knew was that I didn't like knowing he was mad at me. I heard him take a deep breath before speaking again. "You know why I’m pissed? I’m pissed because your whole life is basically spent denying everything," he said. "You're in this big stage of denial where you even convinced yourself to believe in your lies." "What are you talking about?" My voice was rising again, which was bad because I didn’t want to get into another argument. I forced myself to keep calm. "Do you really believe that I'm just dragging you along? That you hate it when I never consult you about these things, you hate it when I bring you to the amusement park without telling you, you hate it when I call you in the middle of the night, you hate it when I pick you up for school, you basically hate everything. You hate me." "I never said that!" "Well, you never said otherwise." "For fuck's sake, I don't hate you, okay? I wouldn't be up at two in the morning having this conversation with you if I did," I managed to say, trying my best to keep my voice down to avoid waking my mom up. "And I don't hate the fact that you always just drag me along, assuming I'd be fine with it. It just scares me, okay?" He was quiet. I forced myself to continue. "It scares me how you always know what would make me happy. You always know what to say to make me laugh. You always know how I feel, when I have no idea what exactly I'm feeling. It scares me because you always know everything." I didn't expect myself to say that. I didn't even know I was feeling this way up until the words came pouring out. After a few beats, he finally responded. "Not always." I heard him take a deep breath before continuing. "I don't always know everything—especially about how you feel." "Yes, you do." I pressed the phone harder against my ear. "You always do." "No," he said, "I really don't." Seconds passed with both of us saying nothing, just breathing over the line, over the distance. It was ironic, really, how it seemed as if we had grown closer, just a little bit, when we were actually kilometers apart. "Are you still mad?" I asked him. I could feel my heart pound against my ribcage as I waited for his answer. He took his time, making me grow more anxious. "A bit," he finally replied. "A bit," I repeated, not knowing what to say. "Why?" I all but screeched at him. He ignored my question. "Good night, Kyla." "Why?" I asked again. "Because." I huffed. "That's not an answer." He groaned. "Because this sucks." He sounded annoyed, bordering on irritated. "I was so pissed at you. I was really, really pissed. But for some reason, I just spent the past four hours stopping myself from calling you. I was pissed off, for fuck's sake, but I was the one who wanted to apologize. And that sucks."

It took a while for his words to sink in. When they did, the corners of my lips lifted to a slow smile. "You wanted to call me?" I could imagine him with his face scrunched up in annoyance. "I just said that." "So you're mad at yourself, not me," I pointed out. My anger had evaporated. "No, I'm mad at you for making it impossible for me to be mad at you." His statement was so invalid that I couldn't help myself from grinning like an idiot. "Am I forgiven, then?" He grunted out a reply that sounded suspiciously like Yes before saying good night and hanging up without giving me a chance to reply. I rolled my eyes and typed a quick text, feeling weird because it felt like we switched roles for tonight. You're an idiot when you're pissed off. :P Good night. I didn’t think he would, but he replied. Just go to sleep ughhh asdfghjkl you're driving me nuts. I bit my lower lip and was typing the words before I could stop myself. It's kind of cute. I sent it before I could think better of it, knowing I'd regret it immediately. In fact, I was already beginning to regret the fact that I didn't have a hacker friend. I fell asleep not long after, my fingers still wrapped around the phone, clutching it close to me. --- "We're going to be late because of you," Seth complained as he started to move the car. "I didn’t wake up on time. It's not my fault I didn't get enough sleep." I ran my fingers through my wet hair, trying to untangle the ends. "Why is it never your fault?" He raised an eyebrow at me as he made a left turn on the next street. Knowing it was pretty much impossible to manage my hair at this point, I eventually gave up. Instead, I opened the glove compartment to look for something to listen to. "Because girls are never at fault?" He laughed. "That's sexist." "I know." I grinned at him. I fished out a CD and studied the cover. Paying it a brief glance, he said, "Oh. That one's pretty awesome." It was an album titled A Lesson in Romantics by a band named Mayday Parade, which sounded a bit familiar. I put it in. "Oh, right. Are you sure it's okay for me to keep the All Time Low album?" "I already gave it to you," he said. "Just promise you'd take good care of it." "Cross my heart." I was glad that we resolved the argument last night. In fact, I felt stupid for fighting in the first place. It didn’t even make sense. I was also thankful that he didn’t bring it up. When he picked me up earlier, I was even nervous, thinking he might still be mad at me and we’d be forced in an impossibly awkward situation. The first track started playing, a lively beat that started right off with a catchy tune. "Seth." I clasped and unclasped my fingers together on my lap, which was, I realized, a nervous habit of mine. "Will you ever tell me about Sarah?" His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "Why do you want to know about her?"

This two(Seth & Kyla) are just making me feel like being in such situation(so romantic&funny)... They realy realy understand each other..... Next

I sighed, trying to find the right words to say. "You've been helping me with all this stuff about Cedric. I just... I want to help you out too. If I could." He considered this for a long while and I was almost compelled to take the words back. I hoped Alyssa was right about Seth moving on, at least a little bit, because under the surface, Seth was undeniably a good person and he didn't deserve to be hung up on some girl. "There's really nothing you can do about it," he said quietly. "I don't mean it in a bad way. It's just really something that can't be helped." "Are you saying she's dead?" "No," he said. "No, she's not." There was no use pushing the subject anymore. It was obvious he wouldn't tell me anything. Also, for some reason, knowing she was alive and was out there somewhere made my heart sink to my stomach. I spent the rest of the day thinking of Sarah, wondering what happened with her. Why was Seth so hung up with her? What kind of person was she? I knew I shouldn't even care, but it was incredibly frustrating. "My mom made dinner reservations," Seth told me in the car on the way home. "For tomorrow." "Dinner reservations?" I almost choked on my drink. We stopped by 7-11 earlier to buy some snacks. An opened pack of red Skittles was resting on the console between our seats. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Yeah. Dinner reservations. It's, um, not as awful as it sounds." "Do elaborate," I told him. I thought I was just going to come over to their house and meet his mom and that was that. Easy-peasy. "Um. There's this new restaurant with... Uhhh," he trailed off. "With?" I prompted. "A seven-course meal. Okay, it is as awful as it sounds." Oh, my god. It was a fancy restaurant. Which meant I was supposed to dress up and stuff. "When I agreed to this, I wasn't aware it was going to be a formal, fancy, probably candle- lit dinner with your mother." "I wasn't either." "There will probably be this shitty classical music playing in the background," I said. "And shitty, unnecessary spoons and forks," he added. "And shitty silk napkins." "And shitty rich people." "Having shitty conversations." We laughed, feeling better now that we could joke about it. "Now I have something to do to keep me busy later," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "And what's that? Pick a dress?" "And practice walking on heels," I said, making him laugh. He has a really nice laugh. "Well, I'll be busy too," he offered. I grinned at him. "Picking your dress?" He laughed again, shaking his head. "Doing research." "Research?" "About the right spoons and forks and knives to use," he said. It was my turn to laugh. We agreed he was going to drop me off at home tomorrow after school and pick me up an hour and a half later. I don't even know if I had something nice to wear. I could totally see myself doing something embarrassing and making a complete fool of myself. I groaned. "Oh, god, tomorrow is definitely going to be disastrous." "Come on, it won't be so bad," he said, shrugging. "At least not for me." "Why? Because it would be a good place to pick fancy girls up?" His reply made me feel thankful that he was driving, otherwise, he would have seen the look on my face when he said the words— "Because you'd be there."

Chapter Twenty Four There was absolutely nothing I could have done to prepare myself for Alyssa and Lily's identical reactions when they found out I was going to meet Seth's mom after school. There was a lot of squealing. And OMGs. And more squealing. We were eating in the cafeteria when Justin suggested we all hang out after school since Duuuude, it's a Friday night. Seth and I exchanged looks before refusing, telling them we already had plans. "Are these plans of yours really important that you can't bother to put them aside for your best friends?" Dan placed a hand over his chest, where his heart would be, feigning a hurt expression. "Um, yeah, they sort of are," Seth replied, looking thoroughly amused, before explaining the whole the situation. He never would have told them anything if he knew how Alyssa and Lily would react to the news. The squealing made heads turn to our table. I noticed, from my peripheral vision, that was Hail looking over, sitting alone at our usual table. When I turned to look at her, she was looking directly at me. I couldn't tear my eyes away, taking in the dark rings around her eyes and the miserable air that seemed to surround her. A part of me clenched at the sight, squeezing so tightly it hurt. I only looked away when I realized that Alyssa was talking to me. "We're definitely helping you get ready for it!" I honestly didn't understand much of what Alyssa and Lily were saying. I found myself agreeing to whatever they were saying, my mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Hail to give them my full attention. At some point between Alyssa asking me if I had a curling iron at home and Justin falling out of his seat (long story), Seth must have noticed that something about me was off. "What's up?" He turned on his seat to look directly at me. The expression on his face seemed to say "You can tell me, but it's okay if you don't." I looked over at Hail and his cryptic stare left me to look over at the other tables, following the direction I was looking at. He must have seen Hail, but if he reacted in any way, I didn’t notice. “Kyla,” he said quietly, “I think you should go and talk to her.” The objections were already halfway out my mouth, but when I caught sight of Hail again, the words died on my throat. I considered it for a long while, trying to think of pros and cons, but finally conceded and nodded. “Yeah. I think so, too.” I excused myself from the others (who were now in a rather intense debate about movies) and stood up. Before I could even take one step away, I felt Seth tugging at the sleeve of my cardigan. I turned to look down at him, slightly confused. "What?" He looked at me through his lashes. "You —you'll come back, right?" My brows furrowed further, wondering what made him say that. "Of course." He let go of the cloth and nodded, turning back to the others and joining the discussion without missing a beat. That was definitely weird. I almost sat right back when I realized what I was doing. It was nerve-wracking, the walk towards Hail's table. For the past two years, I'd eaten at that table with her, talked about boys with her, complained about the cafeteria food with her. Now, the distance between us was so big it seemed impossible to cross. But she looked so sad, it seemed much more impossible not to try to cross that distance.

May God bless me

I'm even afraid to comment...lol.... I didn't want to guess wrong, but it seems there are so much secret behind Cedric hating Seth!! And Hail may also be so sad because she knew Kyla is walking through a wrong path!!! The Title has not been in used, so, it maybe that when Seth finaly gain the love from Kyla, He would break her heart!!! Well.. God & Shaxee knows best

I wouldn't want d@ 2 happen, dis duo definitely look percect 2day, i wonder watz wrong wif hail.

Lol... Thanks..... @Olly.. Thats what firstly made me afraid to comment!! Because Cedric is yet to gave any reason why he left Kyla..... & Hail is always sad when she sees Seth & Kyla together!! There must be a secret there??... Thats what i tought.... Thanks 8-)

She didn't notice me until I was already just a few feet away from her. She looked up in surprise, eyes wide, almost like a deer caught in the headlights. Something squeezed my gut, feeling something like sadness with the thought that she can have this kind of reaction to me, like she was afraid I might hurt her. How did we get to this? I sat on the seat beside her without asking “What’s wrong? You look like shit.” She looked shocked, and all she could say was, “Kyla.” I sighed, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "What? Did you Cedric fight or something?" I knew I was acting like a bitch, but I couldn't help it. It was the only way I could force a word past the lump in my throat without breaking down to tears. The act kept me together. "Kyla." She began to fiddle with the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. I knew this was one of her nervous habits. "There's nothing going on between me and Cedric." This took me by surprise. My neurons might as well have stopped sending out brain impulses as everything around me suddenly didn't matter. "What?" "There's nothing." "You were—at the picnic—you and Cedric —" "No." She shook her head so violently that a few strands of hair fell from the bun on top of her head. "That was a misunderstanding. I was so mad and hurt and, I don’t know what came over me, but I didn't bother denying your assumptions. I was so hurt and I wanted to hurt you back. I should have denied it. I should have said something." Oh, my god. I was suddenly having trouble breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I gripped the edge of the table with my hands, my knuckles turning white. "Then why were you together?" "We were talking. Just talking. We had something in common at that moment." "What?" "We lost you." Her voice was merely a whisper, her eyes downcast, voice breaking at the last word. "A few days before that picnic, I went to his house." Feeling numb, there was nothing I could do but stare at her, listening, the words piercing right through my walls all over again. "I actually fought with him, shouting, demanding answers. I asked him why he broke up with you." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt like she was using foreign words from a language I didn't speak. I could feel my heart beating erratically against my ribcage. "He still hasn't told you why, has he?" she asked me. I swallowed, shaking my head slightly. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. "He has his reasons," she said. "It wasn't his intention to hurt you like that." "No. That's bullshit," I said. "Why can't he just tell me? Why does it have to be complicated?" Hail looked away. "It's not my place to tell you." I could feel the tears forming, but I blinked them back, gritting my teeth together to keep myself from crying. "Whatever," I forced out. "Is that what's bothering you? The whole Cedric thing?" I detached myself from the words, knowing that if I let them pour out with all my feelings intact, I wouldn't be able to handle it. "Why?" she said, looking intently down at her food. "Why do you care? I thought you were... done with me." "We might not be best friends anymore," I said, each word slicing the part that held the old Kyla within me, "but even if it weren't you, I would probably still try to find out what's wrong with a person who looks like she hadn't slept for a month."

She looked at me then, right into my eyes. I held her gaze, letting her know I was serious about this. I could see her swallow, before looking away, and saying, "It's my mom." Something similar to dread seized my gut. I knew that Hail was an illegitimate child. Her father refused to even acknowledge her existence. Hail could only depend on her mother. When we were younger, we even planned to track her father so she could finally talk to him. It was one of the reasons why we felt closer to each other. We both didn't have dads. "What happened?" I asked her. "Kyla, she had a mild stroke." I could hear the pain laced in her words. I could feel the sadness seeping off every intonation. "She's been in the hospital for a week now." "Oh, my god." I pressed a hand against my forehead. "Is she okay? Is everything all right?" "The doctors say she's fine, but they still have to monitor her and stuff." She sounded like a child who tripped and skinned her knee, but was trying not to cry, trying to be strong whike thinking It's just a wound, just a wound. "Kyla, I'm scared." I didn't know I still had it in me, but I felt so guilty for not being with Hail when she needed me the most. Whatever happened between us, all of it, it didn't matter. None of it mattered as I pulled her in and hugged her, realizing how I'd missed the way we used to hug like this, missed the smell of her strawberry shampoo. "Kyla?" she said. "Mm?" "Did you just sniff me?" I released her quickly, pulling away, horrified. Did I just sniff her? Oh, my god, nobody told me idiocy was contagious. I couldn't believe I sniffed her. It took me a few more moments of mentally cursing Seth for influencing me with his sniffing habits before I realized that Hail started laughing beside me. "You—the look—your face—sniff—" Despite the fact that I was red-faced and completely embarrassed, I couldn't help but feel content to hear her laugh. It would be so easy for us to fall back into this, with the two of us on this table, back to being best friends. I missed her. I missed her so much. "Can I visit your mom?" I asked her. Her laughter died down as she looked at me closely. There was a soft expression on her face, not quite smiling so much as trying not to. "You'd do that? Really?" I nodded. We were both silent for a while. I tried to absorb everything that just happened in the past five minutes, letting the weight of missing her lift off of my shoulders, trying to take note of all these feelings surging through me as my best friend sat next to me. "Kyla, I'm really sorry," she said after a while, sounding like she might as well start crying there, "for everything." Biting my lower lip, I reached for the hand tugging at the hem of her sweatshirt. I crossed that distance and held her hand in mine, feeling the tears forming. "Me, too. I'm sorry." We stayed like that for a few moments, then I remembered Seth and stood up. But I wasn't leaving Hail. "Come sit with us." She looked surprised, at the very least. In fact, her eyes were so wide I could have sworn she was terrified. She looked over at Seth's table before looking back at me. "I don't think... Look at me. I'm a mess. They're all... sparkly. What if they don't want me

Thank God Kyla & Hail are back together as friend!! But there must be something there that makes Cedric left like that Or Was/Is Cedric Dad dating Kyla's Mother? Next

Nyc observation @ khola, dere's rili sumtin fishy goin on, oga shaxee let us in on d koko nah

"Trust me," I said. "Come on." She reluctantly stood up, bringing her tray with her. I had to look over my shoulder a couple times to make sure she was still trailing behind me before we reached the table. Seth was looking at me with a small smile on his face. "Guys, this is Hail," I said and before I could say anything else, Justin was already pointing at her. "Finally! You! Which do you think is better? The Breakfast Club or Mean Girls?" Hail blinked in surprise, looking at me momentarily before saying, "Um, the Breakfast Club?" "Hah!" Lily yelled. "I told you. Come here, Hail. Sit beside me since these idiots suck so much they don't recognize the genius that is The Breakfast Club." Dan was already pulling an empty chair from another table, placing it beside Lily as everyone scooted to make room. Hail looked at me, the expression on her face a cross between awestruck and stunned. I smiled at her encouragingly as she made her way to the empty seat. I made my own way to my chair beside Seth. When I sat down, he told me, "I'm glad you worked it out." As I looked up to see Lily introduce everyone in a way that made Hail laugh, I nodded. "I'm glad, too." We still had a lot to talk about, we still have to catch up on everything, but for now, we had time on our side. --- “Oh, god, this car is filled with so much… estrogen.” Seth shuddered as he began pulling the car out of the parking lot. Prior to my meeting with Seth’s mom, Alyssa and Lily declared themselves my stylists for today, and much to Hail’s surprise, they dragged her into it as well. Seth would drop us all at my house, so the three of them were sitting on the backseat, Hail wedged between the two. “Oh, stop complaining. You love us,” Alyssa said. “And you’ll love us more once we’re done with Kyla.” Seth rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like girls but I could see him smiling. Needless to say, Seth stayed quiet as the conversation mostly involved dresses and shoes and makeup. And boys. “Are you kidding? I don’t like it when they have too much muscles,” Lily said and when I turned, I could see her wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I mean, sure, it’s hot on celebrities and all, but in real life, I don’t like it. What is he, a wrestler?” Alyssa fought back. “What’s wrong with buff guys?” “Everything! They also probably use steroids or something,” Lily fought back. “It’s not that I like buff guys, but it doesn’t mean I hate them,” Alyssa said. “I mean, I don’t see anything wrong with an eight- pack…” “What do you think, Hail?” Lily said. “Um. I’m kind of on Alyssa’s side,” she said. Lily groaned and turned to me. “How ‘bout you, Kyla?” “Oh. Umm.” “Oh, my god, Seth! You literally moved closer to listen!” Alyssa yelled before I could answer, making me look at Seth and see him looking slightly flustered. “I didn’t,” he said. “Besides, I already know she likes me the way I am. She stares.” He sent me a sideways glance, tilting his head slightly towards me with a stupid smile on his face. “A lot.”

“I do not!” I could feel my cheeks flush as the others laughed from the backseat. I couldn’t believe he turned the spotlight on me. “You are totally making that up.” He just kept smiling. It didn’t take that long for us to get to my house. It had been a while since Hail had come over. Alyssa and Lily, however, were so excited that they got out of the car and nearly tore Hail to two as they unintentionally played tug of war, pulling her to get out as well. After that was resolved, Seth and I were left in the car together. I opened the car door and was about to go, but I felt like I had to say, “Was that okay? For me to invite Hail to the table like that.” He gave me a look. “What’re you talking about?” “Well, it’s just that—” “Look. Did it seem like the others minded?” “I..." I thought about it and continued, “I don’t think so.” “And did it make you happy?” I nodded. “Then why wouldn’t it be okay? It’s fine with them, Kyla. And it makes you happy.” He shrugged. “And that’s what matters.” He always knew what to say. I didn’t bother with a reply when I stepped out of the car, feeling slightly breathless. Why did he always know what to say? My mom wasn’t home yet so we had the house to ourselves. Alyssa and Lily immediately assaulted the picture frames around the house, gushing about this and that. I excused myself to get them something to eat and drink before we go up to my room. Hail offered to help me. We headed to the kitchen in mostly awkward silence, like we were still testing the waters. Finally, she said, “They’re really nice.” “You mean crazy, right?” She laughed. “Yeah. That, too.” She knew this house as much as I did and the sight of her, rummaging through the cupboards with this sense of familiarity made me question why I ever let things go wrong between us. I cleared my throat. “You should eat with us from now on.” Quietly, she asked, “Is that okay?” I thought back to the conversation I had with Seth in the car, his words involuntarily making me smile. “Yes. Yes, it is.” “So, this thing with Seth,” she began, awkwardly trailing off, like she was unsure if she was allowed to ask or not. I looked down. “We have a lot to talk about.” “I know.” She sighed and I knew exactly how she felt. After preparing the snacks, we headed back to the living room and headed up to my room. Aside from Hail and Cedric, I had never brought anyone else up my room. Oh, and Seth. It seemed so lively to have them here all at the same time, gushing yet again at the pictures I had on display. I saw Alyssa holding my picture with Cedric, the prom one, and I held my breath, wondering if she would ask me about it; ask me why I still had it on display, but she just set it back down. “Go take a quick shower. Be quick.” Lily snapped her fingers and before she could shove me to the bathroom, I quickly left them and grabbed my towel. Alyssa quickly began working on my hair the moment I got out of the bathroom, making me sit in front of my vanity mirror as she blew my hair out with the dryer, while Lily and Hail were busy rummaging through my closet, looking for the “perfect dress.” The All Time Low album Seth gave me was blasting in my room as they worked on me.

hehehe... Lol... Just because Kyla want to meet Seth mother, they have turn her house to fashion things!!! Its good Alyssa never ask about Kyla & Cedric picture, because Kyla won't want to hurt neither Hail nor Alyssa... Next please

I dnt knw why i keep hoping tinz wrk out well btw seth nd kyla... But..wb cedric? What if his reason were geniue? @Khola46 u get time wella o... Abeg dash me some hours wey u dey use na... I wish i av 48 hours in a day... Dis 24 hours no dey reach me aqain...

@Tennie Its as easy as alphabet, just add 13-24 to you clock/wristwatch... You go get time sowtey you go turn Nigeria First Lady!!

Iyen na da... Na so u take do ur own bah?

@tennie,no be lie u talk ni,d guy, so much get tym

@Charlywizzy Lol... Nah because I didn't miss my period like Janet... Thats what makes time stand by my window side!!! Maybe Onihaxy had made You & Tennie missed your period ooo...lol....

It was Lily who worked on my makeup when Alyssa started to curl my hair. They let Hail decide on the dress and accessories. “Shouldn’t I have a say in this?” I asked them as I eyed the high heels they found somewhere in the back of my closet. It wasn’t that I didn’t wear heels, I actually did on a regular basis, but they were never really as high as the ones they found. “No,” the three of them answered together. I might have scowled at them at some point. A few minutes later, with half my hair already curled, my mom suddenly popped her head in my room. Her eyes were wide and I couldn’t really blame her for being surprised. Alyssa and Lily apologized for the mess and introduced themselves politely. I didn’t know why I felt embarrassed when I told her what the whole ruckus was about. “You’re meeting his parents?” She sounded as surprised as I thought she was. “His mom,” I said. “Just his mom.” She said something about how nice the girls are for helping me prepare before clapping her hand to her mouth. “Are you going to wear that dress?” She pointed at the dress strewn across my bed. “I have the perfect earrings for that dress!” Before any of us could react, she was out of the room and I swear I heard her run to her room. The thought of my mom running in the hallways weirded me out so much that I might have shuddered. She came back with a small box and she handed it to Hail before leaving us alone with the promise of some food for when we’re done. It had been a while since she actually prepared food. Around an hour later— in which we managed to have small debates about my hairdo, ice cream, boys (again), and whether or not the manic pixie dream girl character was annoying or not (definitely annoying)—they finally, finally declared me ready. They chose a black dress with a full skirt that stopped a few inches above my knees and has long, lace sleeves. Alyssa put my hair up in a surprisingly intricate half-do, some of it pinned up and the rest tumbling down in soft curls. “Oh, no, it’s not complete yet,” Hail said, walking over to the bed to pick up the box my mom brought earlier. She opened it and the three of us huddled closer to look. I held back a gasp as I saw the pair of earrings nestled in the cushion of the box. Diamond studs settled in silver melded to an elegantly complicated shape. My stunned silence wasn’t because of how they looked though. Really, they weren’t anything special. I was surprised because I knew my father had bought them. I remember one time, when I was young, and Mom, Dad and I were in the mall. I saw the earrings and said I wanted them. My dad did buy them, but said I wasn’t allowed to wear them until I grow older, so Mom kept them hidden. I’d forgotten about them, up until now. My hands were shaking when I put them on as the others began to clean the mess up. I excused myself to talk to Mom. I was a bit unsteady on my heels, but I managed not to fall. I found her in the kitchen. When she saw me, she gushed on and on about how pretty I looked. She almost took the camera out to take some pictures but I (barely) convinced her that it was unnecessary. “Mom, really, it’s no big deal,” I told her, blocking her way before she could go to her room to get the camera. “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure. I just wanted to thank you. For the earrings,” I said. “For keeping them.”

Her face softened to a smile as she brought her hand up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her thumb grazing one earring. I towered over her, especially in my heels so she had to crane her neck to look up at me. “He would have loved to see you wearing them.” I managed to choke out, “I know.” The sandwiches she prepared might as well have evaporated into thin air, just seven minutes after Alyssa, Lily, and Hail stumbled into the kitchen. Mom stayed and chatted with them for a while. I didn’t really eat my sandwich (which wasn’t a problem since Alyssa seemed starving), afraid I might be too full for the dinner later. In the end, my mom, ever so persistent, eventually grabbed the camera and took pictures of us. “It’s not like it’s prom or something,” I tried to reason with her. She just shook her head. “Trust me. One day, you’ll thank me for the pictures.” I doubted it but meh, whatever makes her sleep at night. It didn’t take too long for the doorbell to ring, ensuing a round of squealing from Alyssa and Lily as they both jumped off their seats excitedly and ran to open the door. I rolled my eyes. “Go,” Mom said, looking amused with all the squealing, “I’ll clean up.” Hail and I stood up and followed them to the living room, shaking our heads and making jokes about our possibly injured eardrums from all that shouting. When we walked into the living room, I could tell that Alyssa and Lily were semi-harassing Seth as they complimented him and told him all about me and the preparations and something about waiting until he sees me. Seth just stood there, leaning against the doorframe with one hand on his pocket, rolling his eyes at them, this careless smile on his face. He was wearing a dark blue long-sleeved polo and some black slacks —really, nothing too much—but I realized, then, how good-looking he was. In fact, he wasn’t good-looking, he was fucking gorgeous. Had he always looked like this? “There she is!” Alyssa (yet again) squealed, making Seth look over the spot where I stopped dead on my tracks. The smile slid off his face. Our gazes locked, his electric blue eyes staring right into mine, keeping me frozen. I could hardly remember my name as he continued to look me in the eye and I just stood there. It felt like all that ever mattered was contained in this fraction of a moment, this piece of now, this stretch of silence and everything but him seemed to fall away. "Hey," he said, straightening up. "You clean up well." I blinked, forcing myself to recover, to snap out of it. I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off by Seth's girlish yelp as Alyssa stepped hard on his foot. "What was that for?" he half-yelled at her, bending down so he could clutch his shoe. "Clean up well? Are you kidding me?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Try again or I'm setting up the guillotine." He scowled. "Fine." He turned to me with a slight frown on his face. "Kyla, you are absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful." I rolled my eyes. "Ah, be still, my heart," I said flatly before shaking my head at him. "At least try to look like you mean it. The expression on your face is all wrong." He raised an eyebrow at me, one corner of his lips lifting up, like he was trying not to smile. "Oh, it is?"

"Yeah." "What do I look like, then?" I narrowed my eyes, pretending to study him. "Like... somebody just stepped on your foot." "Ah." A grin broke out of his face, wide and dorky and goofy, like everything that is and ever will be Seth Everett. "Quite accurate." And this time, looking at that grin of his, I really meant it when I thought of the words be still, my heart.

Great!!!! Even Kyla's mum had already approve of that meeting with Seth mother!!! Make I wait and see the outcome!!!! Next Please

Chapter Twenty Five I hadn't ever really noticed how loud a bunch of girls can be when they're together in a confined space until we dropped Aly, Lily, and Hail off at the bus stop. The car was immediately plunged into silence in the absence of random girly discussions, which I enjoyed mostly because of Seth's obvious cringing at some topics. I especially enjoyed the talk we had about puberty, sharing our "first menstrual period" stories. Seth looked like he was ready to jump out of the car the moment the word "ovary" was mentioned. It was hilarious. The silence seemed more obvious as we drove away from the bus stop. A smile made its way to my lips when I noticed Seth's obvious relief the moment we got rid of them. "Don't get me wrong," he said, "I love them and all, but I don't appreciate the free lesson about the best tampon brand to use." I arched an eyebrow, amused. "I heard guys use tampons, too." "What?" he literally half- screeched the word in surprise. "It helps with nosebleeds for when they get into fights." I didn't know it was possible for his scowl to deepen further until it did. "Why the hell would people do that?" I shrugged. "They're really absorbent?" "I would really appreciate it if we stopped talking about this." "How about menstrual cramps, then?" The poor guy looked tortured. I laughed at the horrified expression on his face. Seth was so different from most guys that I sometimes forget the fact that he was still a guy after all. I shook my head at him and dug the Mayday Parade album from yesterday out of the glove compartment. He looked over just as I inserted the disc. "You like them?" "I love them!" I exclaimed, making him laugh. "Well, that's definitely a first," he commented. "First what?" "First time you didn't try to deny anything." He even risked a momentary glance at me just so he could show me his trademark smirk before looking back at the road. I chose to ignore his little comment and fumbled with the stereo, skipping the other songs to listen to that one song--If You Wanted a Song Written About You, All You Had to Do was Ask. I love how their song titles are long and unique. "Do you really think I'm in denial?" I asked him, fighting the urge to facepalm myself for the stupid question. Even I wonder about my mental state sometimes. "Don't answer that." Seth, being Seth, ignored the last part and answered, "I just think you don't like getting into terms with your feelings, so you avoid them completely." I made a face, thinking of shoving my fist into my mouth to stop myself from saying something like That's not true, which made the whole in denial thing easier to point out. "Like how?" "Why don't we start with you admitting that you think I'm awesome?" he said. It turned out to be really difficult not to say Because I don't think you are. I clamped my mouth shut and swallowed the words. "Come on. Say it," he coaxed. "'Seth Everett, you are an awesome friend and you also happen to be unbelievably sexy and undeniably attractive.'"

I made a face, careful not to deny anything. "Is that how you really think about yourself?" "It's what you're thinking about me," he said easily, a crooked grin replacing the smirk. "Only you're in denial about it." I rolled my eyes at this oh-so-typical Seth statement. "Whatever makes you sleep at night." The sound of his laughter filled the car. There was something about it that I really, really liked. It sounded... real. That sounded cheesy, but meh. "Remember before we agreed to this?" he asked me. "This whole fake relationship thing." They were a bit hazy, but the memory of my constant, and not to mention blatant, flirting with him came to mind. I wrinkled my nose. "What about it?" "Nothing." He made a left turn at the corner. "I'm just glad I got to know the real you. It would have been my loss if I hadn't." I was positive my heart was lodged somewhere in my throat, making it impossible to react in any way other than try not to stare at him. I concentrated on the small semi-invisible watermark on the surface of the dashboard. "But the real me is a bitch," I managed to say. He chuckled. "You're getting the hang of this non-denial thing." I scowled, ready to retaliate, but he added, "You're not, by the way. You're not a bitch. You just act bitchy as a way of coping with your feelings. It's not the best way out there, but still. It's like a defense mechanism of yours." "Kinda like how you use your jokes and humor," I pointed out. "Kinda like that," he admitted with a shrug. There was a moment of silence as we let the words sink in. I found myself thinking about Hail and how thankful I was that we managed to talk earlier. I couldn't believe how much I missed her and how stupid I was for ever shutting her out like that. "Thank you for earlier," I said as I clasped- unclasped my hands. "When you told me to approach Hail and talk to her." "That wasn't me." He was shaking his head, keeping his eyes on the road. "That was all you." "It wasn't. You were the one who told me to go." I kept my gaze on my hands, staring at them like they were fascinating beyond compare. "I wouldn't have talked to her if you hadn't suggested it." "I think," he said, "you would have gone either way." Stunned, I peeked a glance at him. "You really think so?" He turned to me for a second before concentrating back on driving. "If I weren't afraid of Alyssa and her guillotine, I would have ruffled your hair right now while saying 'Of course,' but I know she'd kill me if I ruined your hair." Almost involuntarily, my lips tugged into a smile. I looked at him. "How did you know it was her who did my hair?" "She told me." I saw him raise an eyebrow and smile his Seth Everett smile. "You know, around thirty seconds before she stepped on my foot and murdered my toes." I burst out laughing. "You mean thirty seconds before you let out that girlish yelp." He groaned dramatically before shaking his head and laughing along with me. "Well, yeah, that too." The fact that he admitted it easily made me laugh again. "Wow, are you going through a phase of non-denial, too?"

The sound of our laughter filled the car, along with the blast of music from Mayday Parade, and at that moment I realized just how much Seth had changed everything. If he hadn't offered his help, where would I be right now? I could picture myself in a party, half-drunk, sitting on a random guy's lap, making sure Cedric was watching somewhere in the distance. "Seth," I said. "Mmm?" "It would have been my loss, too," I said, not looking at him, "if I hadn't met the real you." --- I only started to freak out when we finally got to the restaurant. Even from the outside, the place looked incredibly grand. It looked so polished and undoubtedly high-class. It was a forty-minute drive from my house, which probably explained why I'd never been here before. "Mom's already inside," he said. "You ready?" I wasn't, but it wasn't like I had another choice, so I just nodded and tried to calm myself. He made a gesture with his left arm that I'd only ever seen in movies. At first I just eyed his elbow warily, not sure if I got it correctly, but then I walked closer to him and wrapped my arm through his. I could feel his warmth, even through the cloth of his shirt and the lace sleeves. At the entrance, a man politely ushered us after asking if we had reservations. A few seconds later, I found myself silently thanking the fact that I could hold onto Seth for support, otherwise, I could have tripped on my heels. The place took me breathless, making my head spin around at its grandeur. If it fazed him even just the slightest bit, he hid it well. The place was dimly lit with mini chandeliers radiating a soft, orange glow. The tables were draped with maroon table cloths over white ones and, much to my surprise, didn't have candles but flowers at the center. The sight was so overwhelming it took a while for me to realize the soft, classical music playing. I barely noticed the fact that we already stopped walking when Seth cleared his throat. "Mom." Blinking, I tore my eyes away from the velvet drapes and my gaze landed on a stunning woman with a polite smile on her face. She stood up from her seat and held a hand out. "Hello. You must be Kyla." I took it and shook her hand, trying not to gawk at her beautiful features and the way her dark green dress flattered her tall figure. Her hair, fixed in a classic updo, was the same sandy brown as Seth's, as far as I could tell in the dim lights. "Hi, Mrs. Everett," I managed to say, but as the shock of seeing her wore off, I began to think of her as the woman who's having an affair with Cedric's dad. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quite fully shake the thought off. "It's nice to finally meet you." She sat back down again and Seth and I did, too. A waiter actually assisted me with my chair and all and I felt really awkward. "Please, call me Isabelle," she said, looking at me closely. "Seth didn't tell me you were this pretty." My hand twitched at the urge to cover my face and hide. I didn't feel pretty at all, sitting there with all these other rich people, especially in front of Seth's gorgeous mother. "Thank you. Seth didn't tell me you were either." The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I was mentally banging my head against the possibly expensive table, feeling stupid for having said such a reply. Isabelle, however, laughed and began asking me the basic stuff about myself, complimenting me every so often. The food (the appetizers, anyway) arrived quickly, so I figured she might have ordered beforehand. I had absolutely no idea what the dishes were, but they seemed French.

"I do hope you're not a vegetarian?" she asked me, which made Seth snort. Isabelle eyed her son and I shook my head. "I'm not," I replied to her with a smile before glaring at Seth. "Trust me," he said, "she's not." I kicked his shin under the table and he let out a slight and still very girly yelp. I smiled at him sweetly. "What's wrong?" He narrowed his eyes at me. I turned back to Isabelle, who looked vaguely amused as she watched us. "Not a vegetarian," she said with a smile, "I like you already." Seth was a bit quiet during the whole time, but he would say a word or two here and there. I tried to answer her questions without seeming like a bumbling idiot and tried asking her some stuff too. As we reached the main course, she was telling us about the first story she had to cover as a journalist for her job, when she still had to work for the local town newspaper. "So there I was, a fresh grad, among this crowd and surrounded by other journalists from other papers, and at that moment, I didn't know what to do. You study all of it and you've covered stories in the past, but right there, you suddenly have no idea what to do." She smiled, bringing her goblet to her lips and sipping a bit of her red wine. "It's the real world, I thought to myself. It's all real now." It was impossible not to feel drawn to her, making it hard to remember her as a woman having an affair. She was so beautiful, so elegant, so charismatic, she could have fooled me. "Kyla writes," Seth, who might as well have gone mute for the past few minutes, chose this moment to present this piece of information. Why couldn't he have mentioned food or sports or something? "She's really good," he added, oblivious of the fact that I was mentally coming up of ways to brutally murder him. "You're a writer?" Isabelle said, raising her (perfect) eyebrows and nodding appreciatively. "I'm liking you even more." Needless to say, I blushed and looked down at my food (which I was pretty sure I couldn't even pronounce). "I'm not that good." Seth rolled his eyes. "She is." "No. They're mostly just poems for my Literature class. A few essays, maybe." Isabelle directed a rather dazzling smile at me. "I originally wanted to take up Creative Writing," she offered. "I took a Creative Writing elective back in college." "How was it?" I asked her, feeling genuinely interested as I started to cut the meat with the (hopefully right) knife for a small bite. "The first day, the professor--sorry, I forgot his name already--walked in and asked us, why do people write?" Her eyes seemes to twinkle in the dim room. "Everyone answered with the usual stuff. To express, to create something out of nothing, to put thoughts into paper, and around fifty other variations of 'to express.' "And you know what he said? 'Anyone who believes that people write simply to express, walk out of this lecture hall now. I don't need you in this class.'" My mouth dropped open. "Seriously? What happened?" "Nobody moved. We all just stared at him. I think some of the students didn't like him, but I was actually fascinated." She took another sip of her wine. "He told us that writing is more than just a form of expression. Writing is about more than just that."

Seth is just to friendly, Kyla need to give him a chance!!! Now that Kyla has known whom is dating Cedric Father, some words would still be said between Seth & Kyla about the issue!! Next please

"Did he tell you?" I asked. "What it's about, I mean." She nodded. "I don't remember the exact words, but he said that writing served different purposes for everyone. Some people write to make something ugly beautiful, some write to leave a part of themselves to be remembered, some write to give words soul and meaning, and some write to exist in non-existence." I loved it. I loved every word, especially the last line. To exist in non- existence. "That's beautiful." She smiled. "I know. I enjoyed his class a lot." I kept those words in my head, trying to ingrain them permanently into my skull. To exist in non- existence. "Thank you for telling me this." Sometime during dessert, where this mouth-watering delicious apple-crumble pie was served along with some cream puffs and strawberries with (white, milk, and dark) choco dip. Seth excused himself to go to the washroom. "At first, I didn't believe him when he said he had a girlfriend," she said once Seth had gone. "If anything, I'm glad it's you." I fumbled for a moment before clearing my throat. "Thank you. I'm glad, too." She was making it really hard to hate her. I tried not to think of what I should feel. A part of me wanted to be mad at her, to shout at her for cheating on her husband. Another part wanted to feel guilty fo not being able to hate her like I thought I would. Now I think I could understand how Seth feels, at least just a little bit, torn between his mom and dad. That was the moment a woman with dark hair stopped at our table. "Isabelle?" As Isabelle looked up, there was this mini reunion between her and the woman, a more mature version of Lily and Alyssa's high-pitch squealing. I awkwardly watched them before looking away and noticing a guy my age standing unsurely behind the dark-haired woman. He caught me looking and I immediately dropped my gaze back to the apple-crumble pie. "This is my son, Dylan." The woman placed a hand on the guy's arm and he introduced himself politely. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but his glance at me seemed too last a second too long. "My son, Seth, is in the washroom right now," Isabelle said and gestured at me. "Kyla, I'd like you to meet Julie. We used to work together. Julie, this is Kyla, Seth's girlfriend." Some pleasantries were exchanged and I tried to be as polite as possible. The guy--Dylan--was looking at me with a slight smile on his face. I looked warily at the direction of the restroom. By the time Seth came back, Julie and Dylan were already seated at their own table at the edge of the room. "What did I miss?" Seth said as he sat back down and Isabelle asked him if he remembered Julie or not. By the time we finished all the courses, a band had begun setting up at the podium at the back of the room. Isabelle didn't allow us to drink wine, so she let us order some shake (mine was lychee and Seth's was strawberry). When Isabelle excused herself to take a call, leaving Seth and me alone at the table, he inched his chair closer to mine. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "Some guy is staring at you." I blushed, and he laughed when he noticed it, making me blush even harder. What he didn't know was that my blush had nothing to do with the guy staring at me, and had everything to do with his warm breath and the sound of his laughter against my ear.

"Seriously. He won't stop looking," he said, and I tried to forget the shiver running down my spine as his voice filled my head, following the direction he was looking at. It was Dylan. He averted his eyes at the last minute, but not before I caught him. "It's your mom's friends's son," I told him, sipping my drink through the straw. I could tell he was about to say something, but that was the moment the band started to play, something soft and soothing. I recognized the tune as something from The Maine--Raining in Paris. Around us, people from the other tables stood up and headed to what seemed like a dance floor. I blinked, surprised. Seth suddenly rose from his chair, making me look up at him in shock. He held out a hand. "Care for a dance?" Flustered, I shook my head. "That--that doesn't even make sense. This is a sad song. Why would couples dance to it?" "Come on," he said. "It's not about the song." "Seth," I said, giving him a pleading look. He rolled his eyes. "Are you really going to reject dancing with me while that creep of a guy is watching?" "Your mom will be back any minute now." "She can handle herself. Come on." He reached for my hand and I let him gently pull me up. He led me to the dance floor, paying absolutely no attention to my protests. When we got there, he placed his other hand on my waist. I put mine on his shoulder and we started swaying slightly to the music. "How's my mom so far?" His electric blue eyes were fixed on mine, his face an unreadable mask. I let out a deep breath and decided it was better to just go with honesty. "I don't know. I thought--I thought I was going to hate her completely." He stayed quiet, looking down at his feet. I felt compelled to say more. "I don't know what to feel," I said. "I'm sorry." He shook his head and tried a smile. "Don't be. You don't have anything to be sorry about." "It's just... It's like I know she's a good person, who just happened to make a bad decision." I didn't know why, but I suddenly stepped closer, finding the need to press the side of my head against his shoulder. "A really bad decision. But her affair doesn't define her as a person. It doesn't define her whole character. It doesn't nullify the other good things about her. It's just a mistake." I heard him take a sharp intake of breath and felt his shoulders rise, but he didn't say anything. I continued, "I'm not saying it's okay to ignore it, because it's not. What I'm saying," I said, pulling away to meet his eyes, "is that it's just one thing about her that you can't love, but that doesn't mean you can't love the other good things." He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, he smiled softly at me. "Why do you always know what to say?" "What are you talking about?" I asked him. He was the one who always knew what to say, not me. "When I told you how I hate myself? For not being able to tell Dad about Mom," he replied. "It's like you can look at things in a different light. In a way that most people can't." I shook my head. "You're just overthinking this." "No," he said, "no, I'm not. Most people can't see through the bad things. You can. You acknowledge the bad things but you can still see the good things."

Thats just it!!! But people only speaks about the bad part of human, they forgot that no matter how bad a human is, he/she must have his/her own good part!!! And nobody is perfect, those that are spoting others bad part,they also have theirs!!!! Its good to see the bad part of a human, and its better if people can also try to look into the good part of human!!!!! NICE WORK HERE SHAXEE!!! YOU HAVE PASSED A MESSAGE WITH THIS AND I'VE GRAB IT!!! THANKS

hummmm....jst passin by

Cool! Like me though

I fell silent and we just continued dancing, managing a small twirl here and there, until the song ended. Just as the next song started, some melodic guitar plucking playing, I heard a voice from behind me. "Mind if I cut in?" I turned to see Dylan, a sheepish smile on his face. "Seth, right? Look, I know she's your girlfriend," he said quickly, raising both his hands as if to say Chill, Dude. "I just thought it'd be a waste not to grab the opportunity to dance with a girl as pretty as her." Seth's grip on me tightened for a nanosecond before loosening and I looked up to see a vaguely amused expression on his face. He shrugged and smiled at him. "I'll be watching you, so don't you even try anything funny." That was it? He was simply going to give me away like that? Wasn't he even just a tad jealous? My thoughts whirred to a stop at the realization. It wasn't like he was my real boyfriend anyway. Whatever. Dylan tentaively offered his hand and I stepped away from Seth to take it, trying to be polite. The song sounded familiar, but it took me a while to recognize it as How Long Will I Love You, by Ellie Goulding, but the male singer really sang it well. I caught sight of Seth offering to dance with Isabelle, who laughed before standing up and accepting it. I turned back to Dylan and smiled. "So," I said, feeling incredibly awkward. "I think I heard this song from a movie before," Dylan began, probably sensing my wariness. I nodded. "Yeah. The title was About Time, right?" His face lit up. "Yeah! That's it. That was a good movie." His smile was pretty contagious and I started to relax. "I know. I loved it." Maybe because he was a complete stranger, I found myself saying, "My father died from cancer, so the ending really brought me to tears." "I'm sorry. It must have been hard." He looked at me with such sincerity it nearly took my breath away. "Now I feel bad for bringing the movie up." I shook my head and smiled. He was so open and sincere, and I immediately knew he was a good person. "No, no, no. It was my fault." We talked for a while, Dylan skillfully changing the topic like a good conversationalist. He was actuaply pretty funny, easily making me laugh and ease into a surprisingly comfortable conversation with him. "If I had Tim's ability," he said after a while, "I would go back to time to meet you before Seth does." He smiled, letting me know it was a joke. I laughed. In the movie About Time, the main character Tim was capable of travelling back into time, a trait that had been passed down in his family for generations. He used it a lot to get things right with this girl Mary. When the song ended, he offered to walk me back to the table. We were on our way, but Seth had just finished walking Isabelle back and was heading dirctly towards us. Dylan and I stopped. "Hey. I was thinking we could dance more?" Seth said, looking slightly embarrassed to ask. My heels were starting to kill me, but I didn't care when I answered, "Of course." Dylan thanked me for the dance and turned to Seth with an easy smile. "You're a lucky guy."

Seth nodded. "Indeed I am." When Dylan was far enough, Seth led me back to the dance floor. "You looked like you had a really good time," he said. "Do you like him?" The next song started. It felt like I heard it somewhere before, but I couldn't place it. "He's really nice," I replied. "He obviously likes you. Did he ask for your number?" I shook my head. "Not really. I told you, he's nice. He doesn't seem like the type who'd do that knowing I had a boyfriend." He just shrugged. This time, when we got to the dance floor, he placed both of his hands on my waist instead of using one of them to hold mine. I could almost feel the impression of each of his warm fingers through the cloth of my dress. I placed my hands on his shoulders, but he grinned at me and pulled me closer, so my hands met somewhere at the back of his neck. There was almost no space between us as he held me in place. "I heard this song somewhere before," I said, trying not to let my voice waver. "From How I Met Your Mother." He nodded and smiled. "I think the title is What Would I Do Without You." "That's it!" He nodded and grinned before singing along with it. Like the time he sang to me in the cafeteria, his voice wasn't perfect, but there was something about it that made me think I could listen to him all night. "I meant it," he said, "when I said you weren't a bitch. When we were talking in the car." "Come on," I said. "I know it myself." "No. I'm serious." His eyes were piercing through mine. "The real you lies in that girl who cried in the rain the night she ran away from home. The girl who told me about her dad. The girl who got distracted at the sight of a family at the amusement park. The girl who wrote that brilliant poem. The girl who grabbed my face to check for injuries when I said I had a fight with my mom. The girl who convinced me not to hate myself." He was looking right into my eyes. Leaning down, he let our foreheads touch. My skin tingled where it met his. "I'm glad I met that girl." It was driving me crazy. He was driving me crazy. I looked down, worried that I might pass out if I kept looking into his eyes. I could feel my heart against my ribcage, too fast and too loud. Could he feel it? Could he hear it? "Seth," I said. "Yeah?" "You are an awesome friend." I looked up and met his gaze. "And okay, fine, you also happen to be unbelievably sexy and undeniably attractive." I rolled my eyes as I echoed his words from the car earlier, but my lips were tugged into a wide smile. That grin of his appeared, lighting up the rest of his face. I could swear even the dim room looked brighter when he flashed that goofy grin. "I knew you'd admit it someday." I flushed. "I'm not saying I'm attracted to you or anything," I suddenly blurted out. "Just that you are attractive. To others, I mean. You know, in general. But, um, I wasn't talking about me. So, I'm not attracted to you." He bit his lower lip, like he was trying hard not to smile. "Evans, I never said you were."

Great!!!! Its good both of you(Kyla&Seth) are admiting to it that you both are awesome!!! You both would make a better couple. Interesting!

Cool!

Chapter Twenty Six "The drive home was pretty much uneventful. Seth dropped me off and Isabelle thanked me for meeting her," I told Hail the next day. We agreed to meet at Coffee Overdose, our favorite cafe, before heading to the hospital so I can visit Hail's mother. Originally, Seth would have taken me out on a date today, but I told him I had other plans. Hail and I used to hang out here a lot Before. The truth was that at first, we only came here frequently because the mysterious barista, Chris, was really hot. We didn't realize we'd ended up liking the cafe itself until much, much later. It had been a while since we last hung out here, so when we walked in earlier, we were thrilled to know that Chris noticed our apparent absence. "I was wondering where you'd both disappeared to," he had told us as he fixed our orders without even asking us what they were. I had just finished telling Hail about the night before and everything that happened during the dinner. "You know what's funny? You used to hate Seth," Hail said. "You used to say he was disgusting for being the player he was and everything." I looked down at my cheesecake. "I was wrong." In the first place, the only reason I had anything against him was because of Cedric. She nodded, a slight smile on her face. "Yeah. I guess you were." There was a pause before she said, "You know, I'd always thought you and Cedric were, I don't know, the real thing?" She wasn't the only one. I opened my mouth to say something in reply but she was already speaking again. "Don't get me wrong." She looked slightly panicked, like I might react violently. "I mean, looking at you and Seth, it's just... you look good together. And I mean that on a deeper level, like your whole character fits with his. Like you're meant to be. It's... it's pretty amazing." I took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. I'd been thinking a lot about telling her the truth between me and Seth. Last night, I decided to tell her, but now that the opportunity presented itself, I couldn't make myself tell her. "What?" she said. "You have that look on your face." I blinked. "What look?" "The one you usually have on your face when you're trying to decide if you should tell me something or not." I didn't even know I could have a look like that. The thought almost made me smile, realizing just how much Hail knew me. Thinking about it, I guess I know her just as much. Despite the fact that I knew she could easily tell whether I was lying or not, I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. "I don't have anything to say," I said. She narrowed her eyes at me. "I'm not buying it." Even I couldn't figure out why I was so scared of telling her. I knew she would never tell anyone, especially Cedric. Hail had always been better at keeping secrets than I was. If I was an undercover secret spy working for some badass federation, I don't think I would even hesitate telling her about it. I knew I could trust her completely. It wasn't that I was afraid of her ratting me out, but there was something about letting her know that none of it was real that made me feel uneasy. In fact, it felt more like something closer to sadness. I didn't want her to think that I wasn't really happy. And honestly, I really was happy. "I know it's not the same." Hail's voice broke at the last word, like she was choking the words out. "I guess it's not that easy to tell me about stuff now. Sorry."

To say I was surprised was somehow an understatement. She was looking at her food like it was suddenly so interesting, trying not to look at me. "No," I said. "Hail, it's not that." She peeked at me. "It's not?" I sighed. "Of course it's not. It's..." I trailed off, unable to find the right words to finish that sentence. "It's about Seth and me." She furrowed her eyebrows, staring at me with a quizzical look on her face. "What about Seth?" I took a deep breath. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" She gave me a look, like she was offended. "Is that even something that should be asked?" "Do you promise?" I repeated firmly, letting her know the importance of the matter. "Of course," she said in all seriousness. "I promise. Now out with it." I fixed her with a long, hard stare. She looked serious, so I rid myself of any uncertainty. I told her everything-- from the reason behind my sudden change, why I'd gone to parties, how things started with Seth, and how everything was fake. She seemed shocked beyond compare, occasionally asking questions as I told her everything there was to tell. "Oh, my god." The look on her face was starting to scare me. Her eyes were so wide I was pretty sure her eyeballs could fall out of their sockets. "Kyla, this is..." I bit my lower lip. "This is?" "I can't believe it. Tell me you're joking." She looked me straight in the eye. Squirming a little in my seat, I said, "I'm not. I'm telling the truth." She pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head. "But--but you and Seth are perfect." "What?" "I swear," she said. "Nothing about it looks fake." I rolled my eyes. "Well, we're good actors." "Bullshit." I reeled back from the shock. Hail never swore. She never said anything that was even close to cussing. She wouldn't even say the word "piss" because she thinks it's completely inappropriate and vulgar. "What did you just say?" "I said"--she pushed her hair out of her face, gritting her teeth like she was really, really frustrated--"I think you really like him. For real." I nearly stood up from my seat when I said, "No! I don't." "Yes, you do." Shaking my head, I leveled my gaze with hers and said, as calmly as I could, "Uh, no, I don't." She squinted her eyes, analyzing me so closely I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting. There was a knowing look on her face that I was absolutely, completely terrified of. "Have you always been this blind?" "I don't know what you're talking about." I downed the last few ounces of my caramel latte before standing up. "Come on, let's head to the hospital." --- That night, I dreamt of me as a little girl. I was running in an endless white corridor. At first I thought I was running from something, but then I realized I was running towards something. I was a following a bird, chasing after it, running as fast as my short legs could manage.

I woke up at past one a.m., feeling extremely exhausted from the dream. It wasn't the first time I had it. I remember having the same dream when I was younger, right around the time my father died. It must have had something to do with the fact that I'd just gone to the hospital earlier. Hail wouldn't stop thanking me for visiting Lauren. She knew, of course she knew, that I had always hated going to the hospital. It reminded me of those few short weeks when we had to rush to the hospital because Dad fainted, when he threw up so violently Mom made me go out of the room, when we had to stay in the hospital because Dad was too weak to go home. I'd skipped school during those last few days. My mom called my adviser and she didn't know that I had accidentally eavesdropped, hearing her say, "It could be any minute now. I just want her to spend every last moment with him." It scared me, hearing her say that, and I wouldn't leave my dad, trying to stay with him as much as possible. It felt like every second was too precious to lose. Earlier, when I walked into the hospital room to see Lauren sleeping in that god awful hospital bed, with this dextrose pouring into her through plastic tubes, I almost felt like crying. It reminded me too much of Dad. But seeing Hail, with a look on her face that was so familiar to me it almost broke my heart, I knew I had to stay with her. It was the same look on Mom's face whenever she saw Dad in that drugged slumber that was supposed to take his pain away. When I left, Hail hugged me so tight and I realized just how scared she really was. Now, at one in the morning, I realized that the dream must have meant something like me chasing my Dad. The white corridor might as well be the hospital and the bird I was running after was Dad. I tried to go back to sleep, tossing and turning in my bed, but I only managed to mess up the covers. Whenever I closed my eyes, images of my dad in the hospital kept coming back to me. Not the good ones, when he was awake and smiling and trying to listen to my stories. The images that kept coming back were the ones that reminded me most of his death--nurses running into the room, him coughing blood out, my mom trying to be strong for all of us. Before I could think better of it, I found myself reaching for my phone from under my pillow, dialing Seth like it was nothing out of the ordinary. I only realized what exactly I was doing when it started ringing. When had I started depending on him so much? So much that here I was, calling him at one a.m. like it was the most normal thing ever. I thought back to what Hail had told me earlier. Surely, she must have been reading things the wrong way. Sure, along the way, Seth and I had grown close, closer than I expected, and it scares me how much I care about him, but I didn't like him in that way. I couldn't possibly. "Hey, is something wrong?" he answered groggily after the seventh ring. Ah, fuck, I woke him up. "No, um, hi." I could hear some rustling over the line. "What's wrong?" His voice, even through the phone, sent shivers down my spine. "Why are you assuming that something's wrong?" "One does not simply call at one a.m. for nothing important." There was more rustling, making me wonder what on earth he was doing there. "So, what's up?" He was sounding more awake now. I felt guilty for waking him up, especially because I had no idea why exactly I decided to bother him this late. If things were reversed, I probably wouldn't be taking it as well as he was.

"Um, you know what? Sorry. I'll just--um-- sorry for waking you up," I said. "I'll just hang up and let's pretend this never happened." "Nope," he said, popping the P, and I think I might have heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open. "Tell me what's wrong." "Really," I insisted. "Forget it. Go back to sleep." "I can't do that." "Yes, you can." "Nope." "Why not?" I heard the sound of jingling keys and the sound of a door shutting close. "Because I'm already on my way there." My heart jumped to my throat. "See you in ten." --- "So," he said, two minutes after he pulled out of our driveway. "Now will you tell me what's wrong?" "You didn't have to come," I said, refusing to look at him. When I opened the door earlier after he'd sent me a text telling me he had arrived, I almost gawked at him. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, his hair sticking up in all directions. The moment our eyes met, his face broke into a wide grin that nearly made me faint on the spot. "Are you kidding?" he said. "Of course I had to come." "Uh, no, you didn't." "Yes, I did." Even without turning to face him, I knew he was smiling that smile of his. "I knew you missed me." I rolled my eyes. "Like hell I would. I literally spend nearly every day with you." "Exactly." I scoffed. "Maybe you're the one who missed me after all." He was silent and I tried to fight the urge to look at him, "tried" being the operative word. I peeked at him and he was smirking, eyes focused on the road. "Well, it was pretty boring," he replied after a while. So he did miss me? The thought sent weird butterflies in my stomach. They fluttered like hell, sending tingly sensations all over me. What the fuck was wrong with me? I couldn't possibly like him, right? I was clearly overthinking this. If another guy had told me he misses me, I would probably feel the same way. It was how any normal girl would react when they were told something like that. "Where are we going anyway?" I said, forcing the fucking butterflies away to calm down. "It's a surprise." Here we go again. I decided that arguing with him wasn't exactly going to lead either of us anywhere, so whatever. It wasn't like I had another choice. Also, I was pretty intrigued about this surprise of his. "So," he said after a while, "why did you call?" I felt incredibly stupid now for waking him up. "It really wasn't anything important." So I had a dream, that wasn't even bad or anything--big deal. Why couldn't I have just slept it off like a normal person? "You really didn't need to pick me up." "Well, I was already awake, so I might as well," he said without missing a beat. "And I guess this could be our first date." "When Alyssa said first date, I'm pretty sure she meant something cliche like a movie."

Just tell ursef wat u feel 4 each other

These duo can't just stop making me smile..... Their relationship is WOW! Full of Fun!!! I realy love that kind of relationship..... It makes love grown-up inbetween couple day-by-day

"A horrible movie," he interjected. "And dinner afterwards." "At a cheap fastfood joint," I added. "Where the fries have more grease than nutrients." I shook my head. It was ridiculous how easily we could fall into a seemingly endless conversation. "Seth, where are we going?" "You'll see." See, I did. After a few minutes of driving, he parked somewhere by the beach and turned the engine off. He turned to me and grinned as I gave him a questioning stare. "Come on," he said and was out of the car before I could say something else. Honestly, I don't think I could ever figure him out. His mind just worked on a completely different level than most people. I pushed the car door open and let myself out. I closed the door just as Seth shut the trunk closed. With one hand, he was holding what seemed like a plastic bag with some tupperware inside, and in the other, a suspiciously big black backpack. There was also a guitar slung over one shoulder, nothing but the strap holding it up. "Don't you have a case for that?" I asked him, looking at his guitar, the same one he brought when he serenaded me in front of the whole school. "Nah," he he simply answered. "You need any help?" I said, already reaching for the plastic bag. He pulled it away from my grasp, shaking his head with a slight smile on his face. "How could I let a girl help me bring some stuff around?" I opened my mouth to retaliate, but he said, "Didn't I tell you I'm sexist?" I rolled my eyes and let out a frustrated groan, but there was no way I could stop a grin from flitting across my face. We walked side by side in silence as I looked around, shoving my hands deeper in the pockets of my jacket, feeling cold. Somewhere to my right, I could make out the shape of an all-too-familiar juice bar. "Cedric and I broke up here," I found myself saying. I hadn't been here in ages. After a moment of silence, he said, "I know." "Why did you bring me here?" There was a slightly accusatory tone in my voice, feeling defensive about the whole thing. I expected him to argue and say something about this place being as good as any, but when I paid him a sideways glance, he was looking at me thoughtfully. "Shouldn't I have? If you want to go somewhere else, just say the word and I'm all for it." Something about what he said melted my initial anger at him. "No," I said, surprised that I was the one saying this line. "No, this is fine. It's a good place as any." He smiled and I felt like I had to literally tear my eyes away from his face, my knees trembling at the sight. "You know, I was there," he said. "The night you broke up." "I remember," I told him. "You were hitting on me." The sound of his laughter filled the night air. "Right. Sorry about that." Out of nowhere, I blurted out the words, "Why were you hitting on me?" When I looked at him, what I saw was this smug smile on his face. If he was flustered in any way, he showed no signs of it. "You were alone. You looked pretty." He shrugged. "It's not exactly rocket science." The blush involuntarily started to creep into my cheeks, the butterflies coming back against my will. We stopped at a random spot, Seth setting the plastic and guitar down on the sand. He unzipped the backpack and fished a blanket out. I stood there awkwardly, slightly amused. For a guy, he seemed very much like a girl sometimes with his organizational skills.

To say I was surprised was somehow an understatement. She was looking at her food like it was suddenly so interesting, trying not to look at me. "No," I said. "Hail, it's not that." She peeked at me. "It's not?" I sighed. "Of course it's not. It's..." I trailed off, unable to find the right words to finish that sentence. "It's about Seth and me." She furrowed her eyebrows, staring at me with a quizzical look on her face. "What about Seth?" I took a deep breath. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" She gave me a look, like she was offended. "Is that even something that should be asked?" "Do you promise?" I repeated firmly, letting her know the importance of the matter. "Of course," she said in all seriousness. "I promise. Now out with it." I fixed her with a long, hard stare. She looked serious, so I rid myself of any uncertainty. I told her everything--from the reason behind my sudden change, why I'd gone to parties, how things started with Seth, and how everything was fake. She seemed shocked beyond compare, occasionally asking questions as I told her everything there was to tell. "Oh, my god." The look on her face was starting to scare me. Her eyes were so wide I was pretty sure her eyeballs could fall out of their sockets. "Kyla, this is..." I bit my lower lip. "This is?" "I can't believe it. Tell me you're joking." She looked me straight in the eye. Squirming a little in my seat, I said, "I'm not. I'm telling the truth." She pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head. "But--but you and Seth are perfect." "What?" "I swear," she said. "Nothing about it looks fake." I rolled my eyes. "Well, we're good actors." "Bullshit." I reeled back from the shock. Hail never swore. She never said anything that was even close to cussing. She wouldn't even say the word "piss" because she thinks it's completely inappropriate and vulgar. "What did you just say?" "I said"--she pushed her hair out of her face, gritting her teeth like she was really, really frustrated--"I think you really like him. For real." I nearly stood up from my seat when I said, "No! I don't." "Yes, you do." Shaking my head, I leveled my gaze with hers and said, as calmly as I could, "Uh, no, I don't." She squinted her eyes, analyzing me so closely I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting. There was a knowing look on her face that I was absolutely, completely terrified of. "Have you always been this blind?" "I don't know what you're talking about." I downed the last few ounces of my caramel latte before standing up. "Come on, let's head to the hospital." --- That night, I dreamt of me as a little girl. I was running in an endless white corridor. At first I thought I was running from something, but then I realized I was running towards something. I was a following a bird, chasing after it, running as fast as my short legs could manage.

I'm loving dis love of d two lovers forming no love.....

I woke up at past one a.m., feeling extremely exhausted from the dream. It wasn't the first time I had it. I remember having the same dream when I was younger, right around the time my father died. It must have had something to do with the fact that I'd just gone to the hospital earlier. Hail wouldn't stop thanking me for visiting Lauren. She knew, of course she knew, that I had always hated going to the hospital. It reminded me of those few short weeks when we had to rush to the hospital because Dad fainted, when he threw up so violently Mom made me go out of the room, when we had to stay in the hospital because Dad was too weak to go home. I'd skipped school during those last few days. My mom called my adviser and she didn't know that I had accidentally eavesdropped, hearing her say, "It could be any minute now. I just want her to spend every last moment with him." It scared me, hearing her say that, and I wouldn't leave my dad, trying to stay with him as much as possible. It felt like every second was too precious to lose. Earlier, when I walked into the hospital room to see Lauren sleeping in that god awful hospital bed, with this dextrose pouring into her through plastic tubes, I almost felt like crying. It reminded me too much of Dad. But seeing Hail, with a look on her face that was so familiar to me it almost broke my heart, I knew I had to stay with her. It was the same look on Mom's face whenever she saw Dad in that drugged slumber that was supposed to take his pain away. When I left, Hail hugged me so tight and I realized just how scared she really was. Now, at one in the morning, I realized that the dream must have meant something like me chasing my Dad. The white corridor might as well be the hospital and the bird I was running after was Dad. I tried to go back to sleep, tossing and turning in my bed, but I only managed to mess up the covers. Whenever I closed my eyes, images of my dad in the hospital kept coming back to me. Not the good ones, when he was awake and smiling and trying to listen to my stories. The images that kept coming back were the ones that reminded me most of his death--nurses running into the room, him coughing blood out, my mom trying to be strong for all of us. Before I could think better of it, I found myself reaching for my phone from under my pillow, dialing Seth like it was nothing out of the ordinary. I only realized what exactly I was doing when it started ringing. When had I started depending on him so much? So much that here I was, calling him at one a.m. like it was the most normal thing ever. I thought back to what Hail had told me earlier. Surely, she must have been reading things the wrong way. Sure, along the way, Seth and I had grown close, closer than I expected, and it scares me how much I care about him, but I didn't like him in that way. I couldn't possibly. "Hey, is something wrong?" he answered groggily after the seventh ring. Ah, fuck, I woke him up. "No, um, hi." I could hear some rustling over the line. "What's wrong?" His voice, even through the phone, sent shivers down my spine. "Why are you assuming that something's wrong?" "One does not simply call at one a.m. for nothing important." There was more rustling, making me wonder what on earth he was doing there. "So, what's up?" He was sounding more awake now. I felt guilty for waking him up, especially because I had no idea why exactly I decided to bother him this late. If things were reversed, I probably wouldn't be taking it as well as he was.

Shaxee... Dere is a repitition o...

"Um, you know what? Sorry. I'll just--um--sorry for waking you up," I said. "I'll just hang up and let's pretend this never happened." "Nope," he said, popping the P, and I think I might have heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open. "Tell me what's wrong." "Really," I insisted. "Forget it. Go back to sleep." "I can't do that." "Yes, you can." "Nope." "Why not?" I heard the sound of jingling keys and the sound of a door shutting close. "Because I'm already on my way there." My heart jumped to my throat. "See you in ten." --- "So," he said, two minutes after he pulled out of our driveway. "Now will you tell me what's wrong?" "You didn't have to come," I said, refusing to look at him. When I opened the door earlier after he'd sent me a text telling me he had arrived, I almost gawked at him. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, his hair sticking up in all directions. The moment our eyes met, his face broke into a wide grin that nearly made me faint on the spot. "Are you kidding?" he said. "Of course I had to come." "Uh, no, you didn't." "Yes, I did." Even without turning to face him, I knew he was smiling that smile of his. "I knew you missed me." I rolled my eyes. "Like hell I would. I literally spend nearly every day with you." "Exactly." I scoffed. "Maybe you're the one who missed me after all." He was silent and I tried to fight the urge to look at him, "tried" being the operative word. I peeked at him and he was smirking, eyes focused on the road. "Well, it was pretty boring," he replied after a while. So he did miss me? The thought sent weird butterflies in my stomach. They fluttered like hell, sending tingly sensations all over me. What the fuck was wrong with me? I couldn't possibly like him, right? I was clearly overthinking this. If another guy had told me he misses me, I would probably feel the same way. It was how any normal girl would react when they were told something like that. "Where are we going anyway?" I said, forcing the fucking butterflies away to calm down. "It's a surprise." Here we go again. I decided that arguing with him wasn't exactly going to lead either of us anywhere, so whatever. It wasn't like I had another choice. Also, I was pretty intrigued about this surprise of his. "So," he said after a while, "why did you call?" I felt incredibly stupid now for waking him up. "It really wasn't anything important." So I had a dream, that wasn't even bad or anything--big deal. Why couldn't I have just slept it off like a normal person? "You really didn't need to pick me up." "Well, I was already awake, so I might as well," he said without missing a beat. "And I guess this could be our first date." "When Alyssa said first date, I'm pretty sure she meant something cliche like a movie."

Dis is repitition shaxee,bt nyc writeup

"A horrible movie," he interjected. "And dinner afterwards." "At a cheap fastfood joint," I added. "Where the fries have more grease than nutrients." I shook my head. It was ridiculous how easily we could fall into a seemingly endless conversation. "Seth, where are we going?" "You'll see." See, I did. After a few minutes of driving, he parked somewhere by the beach and turned the engine off. He turned to me and grinned as I gave him a questioning stare. "Come on," he said and was out of the car before I could say something else. Honestly, I don't think I could ever figure him out. His mind just worked on a completely different level than most people. I pushed the car door open and let myself out. I closed the door just as Seth shut the trunk closed. With one hand, he was holding what seemed like a plastic bag with some tupperware inside, and in the other, a suspiciously big black backpack. There was also a guitar slung over one shoulder, nothing but the strap holding it up. "Don't you have a case for that?" I asked him, looking at his guitar, the same one he brought when he serenaded me in front of the whole school. "Nah," he he simply answered. "You need any help?" I said, already reaching for the plastic bag. He pulled it away from my grasp, shaking his head with a slight smile on his face. "How could I let a girl help me bring some stuff around?" I opened my mouth to retaliate, but he said, "Didn't I tell you I'm sexist?" I rolled my eyes and let out a frustrated groan, but there was no way I could stop a grin from flitting across my face. We walked side by side in silence as I looked around, shoving my hands deeper in the pockets of my jacket, feeling cold. Somewhere to my right, I could make out the shape of an all-too-familiar juice bar. "Cedric and I broke up here," I found myself saying. I hadn't been here in ages. After a moment of silence, he said, "I know." "Why did you bring me here?" There was a slightly accusatory tone in my voice, feeling defensive about the whole thing. I expected him to argue and say something about this place being as good as any, but when I paid him a sideways glance, he was looking at me thoughtfully. "Shouldn't I have? If you want to go somewhere else, just say the word and I'm all for it." Something about what he said melted my initial anger at him. "No," I said, surprised that I was the one saying this line. "No, this is fine. It's a good place as any." He smiled and I felt like I had to literally tear my eyes away from his face, my knees trembling at the sight. "You know, I was there," he said. "The night you broke up." "I remember," I told him. "You were hitting on me." The sound of his laughter filled the night air. "Right. Sorry about that." Out of nowhere, I blurted out the words, "Why were you hitting on me?" When I looked at him, what I saw was this smug smile on his face. If he was flustered in any way, he showed no signs of it. "You were alone. You looked pretty." He shrugged. "It's not exactly rocket science." The blush involuntarily started to creep into my cheeks, the butterflies coming back against my will. We stopped at a random spot, Seth setting the plastic and guitar down on the sand. He unzipped the backpack and fished a blanket out. I stood there awkwardly, slightly amused. For a guy, he seemed very much like a girl sometimes with his organizational skills.

I looked out over the ocean, feeling the cold night air biting against the skin on my face. The water seemed like an endless black space, shimmering with the moonlight hitting the ripples. The beach had always been lit because a few years ago, some tourists drowned or something. The local management had these lights lining the beach ever since then. When I looked back down at Seth, he was already seated in the blanket he set on the sand. His legs were stretched in front of him, ankles crossed. He was looking up at me with a small smile on his lips as he patted the space next to him. "C'mere." I kicked my slippers off and sat next to him, trying to ignore the fact that my left shoulder was brushing against his right shoulder, making it harder for me to concentrate. I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them close to me. He reached for the plastic bag, the sound of the rustling plastic too loud in the silent night. He protruded three containers from it. I reached for one and opened it as he opened the other two. I was surprised to find differrent sliced fruits inside. I looked over at the others. One of them had chocolate chip cookies and the other had chips. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him with a look that was bordering on surprised and amused. He gave me a nonchalant shrug and smiled, making my insides twist at the sight. "What? I'd love a midnight picnic anytime." "You barely had time to prepare all this," I pointed out. Considering how quickly he organized that picnic back then, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. "How'd you do it?" "It's a secret," he said and reached for his backpack. He dug around for a while before taking a silver thermos out, along with two white mugs. "I brought hot choco." Unbelievable. How could he have done all this? All this, just from a dream I had that wasn't even a nightmare. It wasn't even anything remotely close to a bad dream. "You didn't have to do all this," I said, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble." Seth was too perfect. He was smart, he was funny, he was thoughtful. He drove me crazy and that dorky grin of his is as sexy as fuckity fuck fuck. I didn't even know the words dorky and sexy could be used in the same sentence. "I wanted to," he replied, filling the mugs with some chocolate from the thermos. He handed one to me, meeting my eyes. I took it from him, averting my gaze. "So," he said, popping a grape in his mouth. "Why'd you call?" I took a tentative sip from the mug. It was the perfect kind of warm and sweet and bitter and creamy. "You're gay, aren't you?" I asked him as he started to take a sip from his mug. He nearly spluttered his drink out, throwing him in a coughing fit so violent I was surprised he hadn't coughed his lung out. Trying not to laugh, I awkwardly placed a hand on his back and moved it in what I hoped was a soothing motion. Even through the fabric of his thick hoodie, I could feel his muscles, his shoulder blade, his warmth. I pulled my hand away when he finally stopped coughing. "I rushed out of bed thinking you were upset, and that's what you're saying?" he half-yelled at me, coughing again afterwards.

I looked out over the ocean, feeling the cold night air biting against the skin on my face. The water seemed like an endless black space, shimmering with the moonlight hitting the ripples. The beach had always been lit because a few years ago, some tourists drowned or something. The local management had these lights lining the beach ever since then. When I looked back down at Seth, he was already seated in the blanket he set on the sand. His legs were stretched in front of him, ankles crossed. He was looking up at me with a small smile on his lips as he patted the space next to him. "C'mere." I kicked my slippers off and sat next to him, trying to ignore the fact that my left shoulder was brushing against his right shoulder, making it harder for me to concentrate. I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them close to me. He reached for the plastic bag, the sound of the rustling plastic too loud in the silent night. He protruded three containers from it. I reached for one and opened it as he opened the other two. I was surprised to find differrent sliced fruits inside. I looked over at the others. One of them had chocolate chip cookies and the other had chips. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him with a look that was bordering on surprised and amused. He gave me a nonchalant shrug and smiled, making my insides twist at the sight. "What? I'd love a midnight picnic anytime." "You barely had time to prepare all this," I pointed out. Considering how quickly he organized that picnic back then, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. "How'd you do it?" "It's a secret," he said and reached for his backpack. He dug around for a while before taking a silver thermos out, along with two white mugs. "I brought hot choco." Unbelievable. How could he have done all this? All this, just from a dream I had that wasn't even a nightmare. It wasn't even anything remotely close to a bad dream. "You didn't have to do all this," I said, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble." Seth was too perfect. He was smart, he was funny, he was thoughtful. He drove me crazy and that dorky grin of his is as sexy as fuckity fuck fuck. I didn't even know the words dorky and sexy could be used in the same sentence. "I wanted to," he replied, filling the mugs with some chocolate from the thermos. He handed one to me, meeting my eyes. I took it from him, averting my gaze. "So," he said, popping a grape in his mouth. "Why'd you call?" I took a tentative sip from the mug. It was the perfect kind of warm and sweet and bitter and creamy. "You're gay, aren't you?" I asked him as he started to take a sip from his mug. He nearly spluttered his drink out, throwing him in a coughing fit so violent I was surprised he hadn't coughed his lung out. Trying not to laugh, I awkwardly placed a hand on his back and moved it in what I hoped was a soothing motion. Even through the fabric of his thick hoodie, I could feel his muscles, his shoulder blade, his warmth. I pulled my hand away when he finally stopped coughing. "I rushed out of bed thinking you were upset, and that's what you're saying?" he half-yelled at me, coughing again afterwards.

"But--but you're just so... gay," I said. "In what way?" he nearly shouted. I struggled not to laugh, biting my lower lip down. "This picnic, the delicious hot choco..." He shook his head vehemently, glaring at me and pointing a finger at my face. "I'm not gay." I finally laughed, unable to contain it anymore. The look on his face, defiant and serious, was priceless. "Your--your face--you look--" I tried to speak, but my words died down on my throat as they were interrupted by my laughter. When I finally calmed down, I noticed the irritated look on his face, and it nearly sent me on another laughing fit. "I'm glad you find me amusing," he said flatly. "I find your femininity amusing." "Oh, you don't find me manly enough?" The irritated look on his face was replaced with a rather serious look, eyes completely focused on mine. He leaned closer, not stopping until his face was only inches from mine. His proximity made it impossible for me to breathe. I drowned in his blue eyes, my smile disappearing. I looked away from his eyes but I only ended up looking at his lips. I blinked and before I could do something I know I'd regret, I elbowed him hard. He jerked away, letting out a smalloof. "What was that for?" he cried, rubbing the spot where I hit him. "My riiiib. This is going to bruise tomorrow." "Stop being a pussy." I looked away and said, "You were too close. You were getting in my Anti-Seth zone." "Right," he muttered. "You're too violent." You're too perfect. He grabbed a cookie from one of the containers and started nibbling on it. "Will you ever tell me why I had to drag my ass off my bed? I know you didn't call for no reason." I refrained from pointing out that he didn't have to get out of bed. It was his choice, after all. Taking a deep breath, I said, "I had a dream." He kept quiet, waiting for me to go on. I took a deep breath and told him everything about it. I told him about my visit to the hospital and how I felt about it. I told him about the dream that unsettled me enough to wake me up. I told him about the images that kept bothering me when I tried to fall back to sleep. He listened attentively, sometimes looking at me, sometimes looking out into the ocean. When I finished telling him about it, I said, "I told you it wasn't anything important." He shook his head. "Seems pretty important to me." "Not enough for you to do all this." I gestured to the blanket and the food and everything else. "I just wanted to talk." "Well, we're talking." "We could've done that over the phone," I reasoned, holding my mug in my hands to warm myself up. He nodded, tearing his gaze away from the ocean to look at me. "Yeah, but you sounded upset. What else was I supposed to do?" I didn't answer, too busy reminding myself to breathe. He shifted in his seat and grabbed the guitar. He started strumming something familiar. I couldn't place it at first. He was looking at the fretboard, eyes downcast, head tilted to the side. I watched him, transfixed. When he began singing, I realized the song was Collide by Howie Day. Why did I always find myself loving the way he sang, even though his voice was far from anything special? It felt like each word was ripping through me, breaking down the walls I'd put up around me. His eyes flickered up to mine and he grinned, still singing. The sight sent a shiver down my spine, sending tingles through me as the butterflies continued to flutter about uselessly, not just in my stomach, but everywhere. I could feel them in every crevice of my existence, from my chest to the tips of my fingers. Images of him flooded my brain. I remembered that drunken, childish smile he had on his face when he came to my house looking for a place to sleep. The way he cheerfully smiled when he said we were going on a picnic, a basket in one hand. The sad look on his face when he told me about Sam. The innocent look on his face when he was sleeping and the way his face lit up when he saw that I'd prepared breakfast. The vulnerability reflected in his eyes whenever Sarah was mentioned. The way his eyes crinkled when he grinned so widely, making everything--every single thing--seem dim in comparison. The way he would kiss me, gentle and patient, never rushing anything, making me feel like everything was real, real, real. I thought about all these things, almost involuntarily as his voice filled my head. I couldn't believe that there was ever a time when I thought badly of him, when after all, he was the type of guy who would rush to my house just because I sounded upset. It was impossible to ignore now, right here, with my heart jumping like a fucking gymnast to the rhythm of my perpetually misaligned thoughts. I was falling for Seth Everett.

"But--but you're just so... gay," I said. "In what way?" he nearly shouted. I struggled not to laugh, biting my lower lip down. "This picnic, the delicious hot choco..." He shook his head vehemently, glaring at me and pointing a finger at my face. "I'm not gay." I finally laughed, unable to contain it anymore. The look on his face, defiant and serious, was priceless. "Your--your face--you look--" I tried to speak, but my words died down on my throat as they were interrupted by my laughter. When I finally calmed down, I noticed the irritated look on his face, and it nearly sent me on another laughing fit. "I'm glad you find me amusing," he said flatly. "I find your femininity amusing." "Oh, you don't find me manly enough?" The irritated look on his face was replaced with a rather serious look, eyes completely focused on mine. He leaned closer, not stopping until his face was only inches from mine. His proximity made it impossible for me to breathe. I drowned in his blue eyes, my smile disappearing. I looked away from his eyes but I only ended up looking at his lips. I blinked and before I could do something I know I'd regret, I elbowed him hard. He jerked away, letting out a smalloof. "What was that for?" he cried, rubbing the spot where I hit him. "My riiiib. This is going to bruise tomorrow." "Stop being a pussy." I looked away and said, "You were too close. You were getting in my Anti-Seth zone." "Right," he muttered. "You're too violent." You're too perfect. He grabbed a cookie from one of the containers and started nibbling on it. "Will you ever tell me why I had to drag my ass off my bed? I know you didn't call for no reason." I refrained from pointing out that he didn't have to get out of bed. It was his choice, after all. Taking a deep breath, I said, "I had a dream." He kept quiet, waiting for me to go on. I took a deep breath and told him everything about it. I told him about my visit to the hospital and how I felt about it. I told him about the dream that unsettled me enough to wake me up. I told him about the images that kept bothering me when I tried to fall back to sleep. He listened attentively, sometimes looking at me, sometimes looking out into the ocean. When I finished telling him about it, I said, "I told you it wasn't anything important." He shook his head. "Seems pretty important to me." "Not enough for you to do all this." I gestured to the blanket and the food and everything else. "I just wanted to talk." "Well, we're talking." "We could've done that over the phone," I reasoned, holding my mug in my hands to warm myself up. He nodded, tearing his gaze away from the ocean to look at me. "Yeah, but you sounded upset. What else was I supposed to do?" I didn't answer, too busy reminding myself to breathe. He shifted in his seat and grabbed the guitar. He started strumming something familiar. I couldn't place it at first. He was looking at the fretboard, eyes downcast, head tilted to the side. I watched him, transfixed. When he began singing, I realized the song was Collide by Howie Day. Why did I always find myself loving the way he sang, even though his voice was far from anything special? It felt like each word was ripping through me, breaking down the walls I'd put up around me. His eyes flickered up to mine and he grinned, still singing. The sight sent a shiver down my spine, sending tingles through me as the butterflies continued to flutter about uselessly, not just in my stomach, but everywhere. I could feel them in every crevice of my existence, from my chest to the tips of my fingers. Images of him flooded my brain. I remembered that drunken, childish smile he had on his face when he came to my house looking for a place to sleep. The way he cheerfully smiled when he said we were going on a picnic, a basket in one hand. The sad look on his face when he told me about Sam. The innocent look on his face when he was sleeping and the way his face lit up when he saw that I'd prepared breakfast. The vulnerability reflected in his eyes whenever Sarah was mentioned. The way his eyes crinkled when he grinned so widely, making everything--every single thing--seem dim in comparison. The way he would kiss me, gentle and patient, never rushing anything, making me feel like everything was real, real, real. I thought about all these things, almost involuntarily as his voice filled my head. I couldn't believe that there was ever a time when I thought badly of him, when after all, he was the type of guy who would rush to my house just because I sounded upset. It was impossible to ignore now, right here, with my heart jumping like a fucking gymnast to the rhythm of my perpetually misaligned thoughts. I was falling for Seth Everett.

I just love the way these duo does!!!!

Chapter Twenty Seven I wish I could say that the realization made it easier to deal with everything--the butterflies, the blushing, the weird tingly sensations. It didn't. In fact, it was the exact opposite. The moment the thought occurred to me, I bolted up from my seat, taking Seth by surprise. He looked up at me with wide, questioning eyes, slightly shaking his head in confusion. "I'm taking a walk," I said quickly, slightly breathless, looking at everything but him. A crease formed between his brows. He set the guitar on the space next to him. "I'll come with--" I had already turned on my heels before the words had even left his mouth, walking away quickly. It took me a while to realize that I hadn't even bothered to put my slippers back on in my hurry to get away from him as far as possible. I heard him shouting in the growing distance. Sneaking a glance over my shoulder, I saw him stand up. I yelled, "Don't follow me! I'll--I'll just be a minute!" I hastened my steps, matching them to the beating of my heart. He looked so confused as I continued to walk closer to the water before heading to the right. I was falling for Seth Everett. Fuck. How the hell did that happen? My thoughts had gone haywire as my mind tried to make sense of the erratic beating of my heart. What scared me most, though, wasn't the thought of me falling for Seth. It wasn't just that. It was the fact that no matter how hard I tried to come up with ways to convince myself that it was simply a foolish thought, that I wasn't really beginning to have feelings for him, I couldn't come up with anything. Seth was thoughtful in a way that always managed to take me by surprise. He never failed to make me laugh. He always knew what to say to make me feel better. The sight of his smile made my heart do twenty fucking backflips. How could I have never seen it before? Moreover, how could I have let it happen? It felt both wrong and right at the same time. We were friends. I couldn't fall for him. Things were good the way they were, right? I was freaking out. I couldn't decide whether my feelings were a good thing or not. It felt like they could ruin everything. There was also the unmistakable fact that Cedric still haunted me in a way that I couldn't stop. If only it was as easy as telling your heart to kick him out completely, if only it was as simple as that, I would have done it long ago. It felt weird, like I was gravitating towards Seth despite the fact that there was still a magnetic pull that seemed to keep me attached to Cedric. Fuck. I couldn't even understand my own thoughts. It didn't make sense and-- "Holy fuck!" I heard from behind me. My heart skipped a beat as my head snapped to the direction of Seth's voice. He was hopping on one foot, one hand stretched out on his side as if using it for balance while the other was holding his other foot. He was several feet away from where I stood. I didn't even realize that I had quickly sprinted towards him in panic. "What--what happened?" I managed to say when I was close enough, slightly out of breath. I was pretty sure I pulled a muscle but I couldn't care less as I looked at Seth. He looked up from examining his foot. There was a grimace on his face. "Hey."

I quickly crouched down to examine his foot as well. I shuddered at the sight of blood pouring out of a slightly long gash on his foot. "Oh, shit," I breathed out. "Sit down." "No, it's--" "Sit down," I repeated in a firmer voice. He did, ungracefully falling on his butt as he struggled to sit down with one foot suspended in mid-air. I looked closer at the wound. There was so much blood. "A piece of glass got stuck," I said. "Is it supposed to bleed this much? Oh, my gosh, I don't think it's supposed to. Is this normal? I should--I should--there's a-- fuck, wait, I don't--" "Kyla," he said, unnervingly collected, "calm down." He was eyeing me carefully. "It's nothing big." "Are you kidding?" My face, I was sure, scrunched up into a deep scowl. "It's like--like your foot is on its fucking period. On the second day!" He looked surprised at first, eyes wide but amused, mouth agape. After a few seconds of stunned silence, he burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" I nearly yelled at him, torn between feeling irritated and feeling concerned. "You're freaking out," he said in between laughs. He settled down with a smile that took my breath away. "It's kind of cute." I was thankful for the fact that we were in a spot that wasn't as well-lit as the other areas. I hoped the shadows hid the blush that was spreading across my face. "I told you not to follow me," I pointed out to him, focusing on the gash on his foot. "If you had listened to me, you never would have stepped on this fucking piece of glass." He winced a little as I gingerly touched the area around his wound. "What? Like I could just sit there and wait?" "You're an idiot," I said quietly. My insides were twisting so much it hurt, warmth spreading all over me as his concern washed over me. I was screwed. "Do you have a first aid kit in your car?" When he answered yes, I helped him get to his feet (or, you know, foot) and there was a moment when we both tried to figure out what to do, before I decided he would have to hop on one foot all the way back to the blanket. He draped one arm over my shoulders for support, sending me a small apologetic smile. I could tell he was trying not to put too much of his weight on me, but it still took some effort for both of us as we made our way back to the blanket. "This sucks," he said under his breath as he did another hop. We were closer to our spot now. I could see the blanket spread out just a few meters away. "If you just stayed back, this wouldn't have happened," I told him again. He scowled. "This was supposed to be the other way around." The fact that he was mostly pressed against me made breathing a chore that took a lot of deliberate effort. I was surprised I hadn't already fainted. "You wantmeto get hurt instead?" "I'm not saying that." He frowned. "It's just that if this was a movie or a novel or whatever,Iwould be carrying you right now and you'd be crying because, you know, you're the one with the menstruating foot." "Only if it was a sexist movie," I told him, trying to fight a smile as he referred to his wound the way I had described it earlier. His frown was replaced by an amused smile, forcing me to look away immediately. "They're my favorite," he said. "Can't help but love it when the guy saves the girl and she falls madly in love with him."

"Do you want me to? Fall madly in love with you, I mean." I had said the words without thinking and I mentally chastised myself for blurting them out, immediately regretting the fact that I even opened my mouth to reply. He grinned and shrugged. "Fat chance of that when you're the one doing the saving and I'm the one with the menstruating foot, eh?" There was actually still a pretty good chance. I was quiet for the rest of the hop-walk thing we had going on, mostly because I was trying to distract myself from his proximity with nursery rhymes.The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came Seth and--oh, fuck it. We both sighed in relief as we got to the blanket. Helping him down, I had to bend down and let him sit down carefully. My slightly fogged senses finally clearing up now that I wasn't pressed against his side. I straightened back up as he reached for the car keys from his backpack, handing them to me. I grabbed them. "Don't you dare touch that wound until I get back." He regarded me with a salute. "Sir, yes, sir." I rolled my eyes and tried to pretend I didn't notice how stupid he looked when he did that. And how cute he looked when he was stupid. I dashed off and made a run for his car. Five minutes later, his foot was propped on his backpack as I leaned closer. The glass was actually a big piece, so I figured the tweezers were unnecessary. I applied some alcohol with my hands before setting out to pull it out. "You're using your hands?" he asked, sounding doubtful. I shushed him to let him know I preferred working in silence. It was wedged so deeply I was surprised Seth hadn't actually cried. He winced audibly when I pulled it out, all at once in one quick pull to lessen the agony, but other than that, he was fine. The piece of glass was green, like a broken wine bottle, triangular in shape. The longest side was the size of my thumb. "Holy shit, this looks like it hurts like a bitch." He made a face. "Does it look that bad?" Judging from the size of the glass and the bleeding gash, I decided it was better not to answer that question. I began cleaning the wound with some cotton and disinfectant, his foot occasionally jerking the slightest bit. Whenever I dared a glance at him, he would be looking at the ocean, his jaw tightening as I applied pressure to the wound. He was mostly quiet, save for a few grunts every so often. "Why did you freak out all of a sudden?" he finally asked me as I started to dig around the box that held medical supplies. "Maybe because you stepped on a deadly piece of glass?" When I looked up at him, fishing out a roll of gauze from the box, he was shaking his head. "I meant earlier. You just... stood up without warning and literally bolted." He was looking directly into my eyes. "Scared the crap out of me." "Oh." I blushed. "That." I dropped my gaze and busied myself by looking for the medical tape from the box. It was a shame I found it quickly. "Yeah," he said, "that." Choosing it was best to shut my mouth, I started to unroll the gauze instead.

"Was it because you remembered Cedric?" he asked me when it was clear I wasn't going to answer anytime soon. "You looked really, really freaked out." Inspecting his foot, I was relieved to find that the bleeding had stopped. "Why did you think it was because of him?" I peered curiously at him. He was looking down, one hand fumbling with the hem of his hoodie. "I did bring you to the place where he dumped you." He scowled right after saying the words. "Sorry, I didn't mean to put it as bluntly as that." I refocused on his foot, reaching for the gauze and the medical tape. I had absolutely no idea what to reply and the silence stretched out before us awkwardly. "You asked me why I was so willing to help you," he said after what felt like forever. "It's not just because I thought you needed help." His voice was quiet and solemn, sending my heart in a sudden frenzy. Taking my silence as a cue to keep talking, he said, "I think it was because I saw myself in you." I looked up at him, but he was looking elsewhere, one hand pointing at a spot near the juice bar. "See that, right there?" "What about it?" "That was where I saw you crying. The night you broke up," he answered. "You got out of the juice bar and pushed past me in your hurry." My eyes snapped to his. "You saw me crying?" He lifted a hand over his shoulder and placed his palm on the back of his neck. "Yeah." I sat there blinking as I tried to process this information. "I didn't know who you were at first. No offense," he added quickly, "but you weren't exactly under my radar at school." If I wasn't so shocked about hearing all this, that would have warranted an eye-roll from me. "Then I saw you and Cedric and realized we actually go to the same school." "We've had four classes together since freshman year." Judging from the way his eyebrows shot up, I could tell this was news to him. "Really?" I gave him a flat look and he sent me a sheepish smile. "Anyway, when I saw you rush out of that juice bar, tears and all, I kind of thought of myself. With Sarah, I mean. But I didn't think it would lead to--hey, what are you doing?" "Mm?" "The gauze. Are you, um, you're not using all that are you?" I looked down to see that I had succesfully unrolled half the gauze absentmindedly. It was strewn all over the blanket. I gritted my teeth together and flushed as I rolled it back. He chuckled, the sound so familiar to me now. Shaking his head, he continued with a smile. "As I was saying, I'm glad you ended up being one of my closest friends." Friends. "Right." I cleared my throat. "Me, too." There was a pause as I started to work on wrapping his wound. I was absolutely, completely, undeniably screwed. What was I supposed to do? For a second, I considered telling him I was starting to fall for him. The thought, however, completely evaporated as soon as I thought about the consequences. I hadn't completely rid Cedric out of my system yet. There was also the fact that I was sure he still had unresolved feelings towards Sarah. Where would telling him lead to? It was impossible to figure him out. Some part of me wanted to believe that he harbored the same feelings for me. What guy would get out of bed at one in the morning for someone who wasn't special? But I knew Seth could have easily done the same thing with someone else. I couldn't get my hopes up. ---- Guys follow me on facebook www.Facebook.com/meshackshaxee

Hmmmm..... Realy Realy love the relationship between Seth & Kyla. How I wish -- -- --........

Also, I couldn't possibly ruin this, whatever we had going on between us, for the time being. "If it was Alyssa who called you in the middle of the night," I found myself saying, breaking the silence, "would you have done the same thing?" I couldn't bring myself to look at him so I finished placing the last piece of medical tape instead, sealing the gauze in place. The random question must have taken him by surprise because there was a prolonged silence before he answered. "Of course." I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "It's done," I announced and backed away from his foot. "Why did you ask?" he said as he moved his foot closer to him to look at my work. "Thanks, by the way." My hands had a bit of his blood and I poured some of the bottled water he brought with him so I could wash my hands. "No reason," I said. "Just curious." I sat across him, pretty sure that my brain would fail to function if I sat next to him like I did earlier. I had to sort my thoughts out. Moreover, I had to tell Hail (and listen to her go "I told you so") and ask her what she thinks I should do. I didn't want to act rashly and I certainly didn't want to get my hopes up. "You never answered, by the way," he said. "Answered what?" "Why you freaked out." I looked him in the eye first before hugging my knees to my chest and looking down, my gaze landing on the guitar next to him. "Well, it wasn't Cedric." He remained silent. I sneaked a glance and saw him smiling at me, making my heart leap to my throat. "Really?" "Mmm." Slowly, quite slowly, his face broke into a full grin. --- We agreed that I was driving home. He seemed to feel bad about the fact that I had to carry all our stuff back to his car, even offering to bring the plastic bag. I gave him a pointed stare until he backed off and let me do all the carrying. After putting all the stuff in the trunk and the guitar in the backseat, I came back to him. I left the blanket for him to sit on but he was already halfway to the car, the blanket bundled up in one hand and hopping this way to the car. He was balancing himself on one foot and looked like he could topple any second now. "I told you to wait for me," I said. He must have failed to notice me because he flinched in surprise upon hearing my voice, nearly losing balance as his arms flailed in circles in an attempt to stay upright. "Holy fuckeroony, you scared me!" I raised an eyebrow, stifling my laughter. "Fuckeroony?" He scowled. "Why were you going all ninja on me?" I walked over to him and offered to help him, but he firmly shook his head. "I can manage." "Seth," I warned. "My wounded pride, Kyla. Think about my wounded pride," he said. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine, but I'm not helping you if you fall over." He distractedly waved me away with one hand before hopping. I rolled my eyes, watching him.

How did I begin falling for this idiot? When we got to the car, he refused to sit on the passenger's side, insisting he could drive, but I wouldn't budge. His shoulders sagged as he muttered something about that little motherfucking piece of glass. "Oh, wait," he said as I turned the ignition key. "What now?" "If you won't let me drive," he said, "how am I supposed to get home after dropping you off?" I smirked. "You mean after droppingyouoff." The horrified look on his face was enough to show me that the realization finally dawned on him. "No, it can't--" "Looks like your car will have a sleepover at my house tonight." After dropping him off, much to his disdain as he kept protesting about the unfairness of life, I headed back home. It was only when I was parked in front of my house that it occurred to me that I hadn't thanked him for the helping me tonight. Still inside his car, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and typed a quick text. Thank you for tonight. How's your foot? The reply came when I was already inside the house, making my way back to my bedroom. No problem. Oh, you know, I think it's still PMSing. I laughed, loud and real and happier than I had ever been since the night Cedric had dumped me. I thought back to the question I had asked myself earlier about how I began falling for such an idiot. Looking down at his reply, I knew I was staring at the answer. ---- Follow Me On Facebook: www.Facebook.com/meshackshaxee

Now I got it, The Heartbroken(Kyla) had met Heartbreaker(Seth). Thats cool.....

....alwyz fun 2 read.... I already av u on fb @Shaxee ...so mine is settled...

Shaxee u're d best

I really kinder love dix story@keep it up@shaxee

@Tenniebenson itz my page not my main fb account.

Well... I think i already liked it sometime aqo too....

Sometime during dessert, where this mouth-watering delicious apple-crumble pie was served along with some cream puffs and strawberries with (white, milk, and dark) choco dip. Seth excused himself to go to the washroom. “At first, I didn’t believe him when he said he had a girlfriend,” she said once Seth had gone. “If anything, I’m glad it’s you.” I fumbled for a moment before clearing my throat. “Thank you. I’m glad, too.” She was making it really hard to hate her. I tried not to think of what I should feel because a part of me wanted to be mad at her, to shout at her for cheating on her husband. Another part wanted to feel guilty for not being able to hate her like I thought I would, and I was beginning to understand how Seth must feel—to be torn between his mom and dad—and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Isabelle?” Both Isabelle and I looked up to see a dark- haired woman hovering uncertainly by our table. As soon as Isabelle saw who it was, they began to talk in a more mature version of Lily and Alyssa’s high pitched squealing. I watched them for a moment before looking away, my eyes landing on a guy my age standing unsurely behind the dark-haired woman instead. “This is my son, Dylan.” The woman placed a hand on the guy’s arm and he introduced himself politely. I wasn’t sure if it was just my imagination, but his glance at me seemed too last a second longer than necessary. “Seth’s is in the washroom right now,” Isabelle said and gestured at me. “Kyla, I’d like you to meet Julie. We used to work together. Julie, this is Kyla, Seth’s girlfriend.” Some pleasantries were exchanged and I tried to be as polite as possible. The guy— Dylan—was looking at me with a slight smile on his face. I looked warily at the direction of the restroom, waiting for Seth to come back. By the time he did, however, Julie and Dylan were already seated at their own table at the edge of the room. “What did I miss?” Seth said as he sat back down and Isabelle asked him if he remembered Julie or not (he did), and the conversation moved on. By the time we finished all the courses, a band had begun setting up at the podium at the back of the room. Isabelle didn’t allow us to drink wine, so she let us order our own drinks (mine was a strawberry- banana shake and Seth’s was lychee). When Isabelle excused herself to take a call, Seth inched his chair closer to mine. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, “Some guy is staring at you.” My cheeks burst into flames, and he laughed when he noticed it, making me blush even harder. What he didn’t know was that my blush had nothing to do with the guy staring at me and instead had everything to do with his sudden proximity. “Seriously,” he murmured, and I tried to ignore the shiver running down my spine. “He won’t stop looking.” I followed the direction he was looking at to see Dylan looking over. He averted his gaze at the last minute. “It’s your mom’s friend’s son,” I told him, sipping my drink through the straw. I could tell he was about to say something, but that was the moment the band started to play. I didn’t recognize the song, but the soft guitar plucking and piano riff was soothing and slow. Around us, people from the other tables stood up and headed to what seemed like a dance floor. Seth and I watched them for a moment and I was just about to say something about this when he suddenly rose from his chair.

I looked up at him in shock but he simply held out a hand. Flustered, I shook my head. “Come on,” he said. “No,” I said, giving him a pleading look. He rolled his eyes. “Are you really going to turn me down while that creep of a guy is watching?” “Your mom will be back any minute now.” “She can handle herself. Come on.” He reached for my hand and I let him gently pull me up. He led me to the dance floor, paying absolutely no attention to my half-hearted protests, and as soon as we joined the other couples, he placed his hands on my waist. I conceded, knowing resistance was completely futile now, and let mine rest on his shoulders. “How’s my mom so far?” he asked me as we began to sway with the music. There was a hesitant note in voice and when I lifted my eyes to his, I knew what he really wanted to ask. “I don’t know,” I replied, thinking it was best for me to just go with the truth. “I thought—I thought I was going to hate her completely, but now… I don’t know what to feel.” I let out a sigh and dropped my gaze. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” I peered up at him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he added, but the smile on his face was enough to tell me just how unsettled he must be feeling about all this. “Hey,” I found myself saying, and when our eyes locked, I forced myself to continue. “It’s —it’s like I know she’s a good person. She is. She just… happened to make a bad decision.” I didn’t know why, but I suddenly stepped closer, finding the need to press the side of my head against his shoulder. “A really bad decision. But her affair doesn’t define her as a person. It doesn’t define her whole character. It doesn’t nullify the other good things about her. It’s just a mistake.” I felt him stop moving for a while, prompting me to look up at him. Softly, I said, “I’m not saying it’s okay to ignore it, because it’s not. What I’m saying is that it’s just one thing about her that you can’t love, but that doesn’t mean you can’t love the other good things.” For a moment, he just stared at me, and I had to wonder if I might have overstepped some invisible boundary between us, but then, slowly, quite slowly, a small, grateful smile slipped onto his face. “Why do you always know what to say?” “What are you talking about?” He was the one who always knew what to say. “When I told you how I hate myself for not being able to tell Dad about Mom,” he said. “It’s like you can look at things in a different light. In a way that most people can’t.” I shook my head. “You’re just overthinking this.” “No,” he said, “no, I’m not. Most people can’t see through the bad things. You can. You acknowledge the bad things but you can still see the good things.” I fell silent and we just continued dancing, managing a small twirl here and there, until the song ended. Just as the next song started, I heard someone clearing his throat behind me.

“Mind if I cut in?” Seth’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and I turned around to see Dylan. “Seth, right? Look, I know she’s your girlfriend,” he said quickly, raising both his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “I just… thought it would be a waste not to grab the opportunity.” Seth’s grip on me tightened for a nanosecond before loosening and I looked up to see a vaguely amused expression on his face. He shrugged and smiled at him. “I’ll be watching you, so don’t even think of trying anything funny.” That was it? He was simply going to give me away like that? Wasn’t he even just a tad jealous? My thoughts whirred to a stop at the realization. What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like he was my real boyfriend anyway. Dylan tentatively offered his hand and I stepped away from Seth to take it, trying to be as polite as possible. The song sounded familiar, but it took me a while to recognize it as How Long Will I Love You by Ellie Goulding, and the male singer really sang it well. I caught sight of Seth asking Isabelle to dance with him. I turned back to Dylan and smiled. “So,” I said, feeling incredibly awkward. “I think I heard this song from a movie before,” Dylan began, probably sensing my wariness. I nodded. “Yeah. The title was About Time, right?” His face lit up. “Yeah! That’s it. That was a good movie.” His smile was pretty contagious and I started to relax. “I know. I loved it.” I shook my head, and without even thinking twice about it, I said, “My father died from cancer, so the ending really brought me to tears.” “Oh. I’m sorry.” He looked at me with such sincerity it nearly took my breath away. “Now I feel bad for bringing the movie up.” I shook my head and smiled. He was so open and sincere, and I immediately knew he was a good person. “No, no, no. It was my fault.” We talked for a while, Dylan skillfully changing the topic like a good conversationalist. He was actually pretty funny, easily making me laugh and ease into a surprisingly comfortable conversation with him. When the song ended, he offered to walk me back to the table. We were on our way, but Seth had just finished walking Isabelle back and was heading directly towards us. Dylan and I stopped. “Hey. I was thinking we could dance more?” Seth said, looking slightly embarrassed to ask. My heels were starting to kill me, but I didn’t care when I answered, “Of course.” Dylan thanked me for the dance and turned to Seth with an easy smile. “You’re a lucky guy.” I couldn’t tell if the smile on Seth’s face was real or not when he said, “Indeed I am.” When Dylan was far enough, Seth led me back to the dance floor. The next song started and he carefully pulled me closer. This time, he placed both of his hands on my waist. I tentatively placed my hands on his shoulders, trying to ignore the tingles quickly spreading from where his hands held me, but then he grinned at me and pulled me closer, so my hands met somewhere at the back of his neck. There was almost no space between us as he held me in place. “You looked like you had a really good time,” he said. “Do you like him?” “He’s… nice.”

“Well, he obviously likes you. Did he ask for your number?” I shook my head. “Not really. I told you, he’s nice. He doesn’t seem like the type who’d do that knowing I had a boyfriend.” He just shrugged. “I heard this song somewhere before,” I said in an attempt to change the topic. “From How I Met Your Mother.” He nodded, smiling at me. “I think the title is What Would I Do Without You.” “That’s it!” He nodded and grinned before singing along with it. His voice wasn’t perfect, but there was something about it that made me think I could listen to him all night. “I meant it,” he suddenly said, “when I said you weren’t a bitch. When we were talking in the car.” “Come on.” I shook my head. “I am, and even I know that.” “No. I’m serious.” Something about the way he said it compelled me to look up at him. His blue eyes held mine as he removed one hand from my waist to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “The real you lies in that the girl who told me stories of her dad. The girl who got distracted at the sight of a family at the amusement park. The girl who wrote that brilliant poem. The girl who grabbed my face to check for injuries when I said I had a fight with my mom. The girl who convinced me not to hate myself.” He was looking right into my eyes and he leaned down to let our foreheads touch. “I’m glad I met that girl.” It was driving me crazy. He was driving me crazy. I looked down, worried that I might pass out if I kept looking into his eyes. I could feel my heart thrashing against my ribcage, too fast and too loud. Could he feel it? Could he hear it? “Seth,” I said, slightly breathless. “Mm?” “You are an incredibly awesome friend.” I looked up and met his gaze. “And—okay, fine—you also happen to be unbelievably sexy and undeniably attractive.” Slowly, his lips tugged into a wide grin, immediately lighting up the rest of his face and the whole room. “I knew you’d admit it someday.” “I’m not saying I’m attracted to you or anything,” I suddenly blurted out, unable to keep myself from blushing. “Just that you are attractive. To others, I mean. You know, in general. Not, like, to me. So, I’m, um, not attracted to you.” “Evans,” he said, looking like he was trying not to smile, “I never said you were.”

Chapter 26 “The drive home was pretty much uneventful,” I said to Hail the next day. “Seth dropped me off and Isabelle thanked me for meeting her.” We agreed to meet at Cofee Overdose before heading to the hospital so I can visit Hail’s mother. It had been a while since we last hung out here, so when we walked in earlier, we were thrilled to know that Chris the hot barista had noticed our apparent absence. “I was wondering where you’d both disappeared to,” he said, already fixing our orders before we could even tell him what they were. I had just finished telling Hail about the night before and everything that happened during the dinner, and the expression on her face matched the expression on Alyssa’s face whenever Seth and I did something “sweet” in front of them. “You know what’s funny?” Hail asked me. “You used to hate Seth. You used to say he was disgusting for being the player he was and everything.” I looked down at my half-eaten blueberry cheesecake, almost unable to believe that I’d been so narrow-minded back then. “I was wrong.” She nodded, smiling at me. “Yeah. I guess you were.” There was a hint of hesitation in the way she peered up at me, but she said, “You know, I’d always thought you and Cedric were, I don’t know, the real thing?” She wasn’t the only one, I thought, and before I could say something in reply, she was speaking again. “Don’t get me wrong.” She raised both hands, giving me a hurried glance. “I mean, looking at you and Seth, it’s just... you look good together. And I mean that on a deeper level. Like, your whole character fits with his. Like you’re meant to be. It’s... it’s pretty amazing.” I took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. I’d been thinking a lot about telling her the truth between me and Seth. There had never been secrets between us before this, and even though she refused to tell me why Cedric broke up with me, I understood her. It wasn’t her secret to tell. But this one between Seth and I was mine, and I couldn’t stand the thought of her rooting for the two of us when there was never really anything to begin with. “What is it?” she said. “You have that look on your face.” My brows furrowed.“What look?” “The one you usually have on your face when you’re trying to decide if you should tell me something or not.” I didn’t even know I could look like that, and the thought of Hail knowing me so well reminded me of the fact that Hail knew me —really knew me—and despite the fact that we hadn’t talked for so long, that didn’t change. “I don’t have anything to say,” I said. She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m not buying it.” To be honest, I wasn’t afraid of her ratting me out. I knew she would never tell anyone, especially Cedric. Hail had always been better at keeping secrets than I was, but there was something about letting anyone know it was all fake that made me feel uneasy, like telling her it wasn’t real would result to it being less real. And that was ridiculous, because it wasn’t real. I’d been so used to Seth—to the idea of “us”—that sometimes, even I forget that it was all fake; and the truth was that just easier to pretend that “we” were real. Letting someone know the truth would somehow take that away. But that didn’t make sense, because why should I care?

“I know it’s not the same,” Hail suddenly said, snapping me from my thoughts. “I guess it’s not that easy to tell me about stuff now. Sorry.” To say I was surprised would be an understatement. She was looking at her food like it was suddenly so interesting, and I figured that she must have taken my silence the wrong way. “No,” I said, reaching over to put my hand over hers. “Hail, it’s not that.” She looked up at me. “It’s not?” I sighed. “Of course it’s not. It’s...” I trailed off, unable to find the right words to finish that sentence. “It’s about Seth and me.” Her eyebrows creased together as she stared at me. “What about Seth?” I took a deep breath. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” She gave me a flat look. “Do you promise?” I repeated firmly, letting her know the importance of the matter. “Of course,” she said in all seriousness. “I promise. Now out with it.” I fixed her with a long, hard stare. She looked serious, so I rid myself of any uncertainty. I told her everything—from the reason behind my sudden change to how things started with Seth, and how everything was fake. “Oh, my god,” she breathed out, shaking her head when I finished talking. “Kyla, this is…” I bit my lower lip, hesitantly looking at her. “This is?” She looked me straight in the eye. “I can’t believe it. I can’t. Tell me you’re joking.” Squirming a little in my seat, I said, “I’m not. I’m telling the truth.” She pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head. “But—but you and Seth are perfect.” “What?” “I swear,” she said. “Nothing about it looks fake.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, maybe we’re good actors.” “Bullshit.” I reeled back from the shock. Hail never swore. She never said anything that was even close to cussing—not even the word “piss” because she thinks it’s inappropriate and vulgar. “What did you just say?” “I said”—she pushed her hair out of her face, gritting her teeth as her voice rose—”I think you really like him. For real.” I nearly stood up from my seat. “I don’t” “Yes, you do.” Shaking my head, I leveled my gaze with her. “Trust me. I don’t.” She narrowed her eyes at me, analyzing me so closely I couldn’t stop myself from fidgeting. There was a knowing look on her face that I was absolutely, completely terrified of. “Have you always been this blind?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I downed the last few ounces of my caramel latte before standing up. “Come on, let’s head to the hospital.” --- That night, I dreamt of me as a little girl. I was running in an endless white corridor. At first I thought I was running from something, but then I realized I was running towards something. I was a following a bird, chasing after it, running as fast as my short legs could manage.

I woke up at past one a.m., feeling as if the dream had drained all my energy. It wasn’t that it was scary or anything, but it wasn’t the first time I had it, and that was what bothered me. I had the same dream when I was younger, right around the time my father died, and I figured it must have had something to do with the fact that I’d just gone to the hospital earlier. Hail wouldn’t stop thanking me for visiting Lauren. She knew, of course she knew, that I had always hated going to the hospital. It reminded me of those few short weeks when we had to rush to the hospital because Dad fainted, when he threw up so violently, Mom had to make me go out of the room, and since then, we had to stay in the hospital because Dad was too weak to go home. I’d skipped school during those last few days, and one night, I woke up to hear Mom talking to my adviser over the phone. “It could be any minute now,” I heard her say. “I just want her to spend every last moment with him.” It scared me. She kept telling me he’d get better, that there was nothing to worry about because he loved us and he would fight this and everything would be back to normal. And I must have known that she was lying, but I believed in her because it was too painful to believe otherwise. Since then, I spent nearly every day watching Dad, fighting off sleep in case he woke up long enough to talk to me. When he died, I steered clear of hospitals, and when I walked into the hospital room to see Lauren sleeping in that god awful hospital bed earlier, I almost ran out. The look on Hail’s face stopped me and I knew I had to stay with her. It was the same look on Mom’s face whenever she saw Dad in that drugged slumber that was supposed to take his pain away, and I knew Hail needed me there. When I left, she hugged me so tightly it wasn’t difficult to imagine just how shaken up she really was about all this. Now, at one in the morning, I realized that the dream must have meant something like me chasing my Dad. The white corridor might as well be the hospital and the bird I was running after was Dad. I tried to go back to sleep, tossing and turning in my bed. Whenever I closed my eyes, images of my dad in the hospital kept coming back to me: images that reminded me most of his death —nurses running into the room, him coughing blood out, my mom trying to be strong for all of us. Before I could think better of it, I found myself reaching for my phone from under my pillow, dialing Seth like it was nothing out of the ordinary. I thought back to what Hail had told me earlier. Surely, she must have been reading things the wrong way. I knew Seth and I had grown closer than I could have ever expected, and it would be pointless to deny that I didn’t care about him, but I didn’t like him in that way. I couldn’t possibly. “Kyla?” Upon hearing his groggy voice, I knew I’d woken him up. Pushing down the guilt I felt, I said, “Hi.” There was a rustle over the static. “What’s wrong?” “Why are you assuming that something’s wrong?” “One does not simply call at… one in the morning for nothing important.” There was more rustling, making me wonder what on earth he was doing there. “So, what’s up?”

I felt ashamed for waking him up, especially because I had no idea why exactly I’d decided to call him, and I knew that if he was the one who woke up me up in the middle of the night, I probably wouldn’t be taking it as well as he was. “Nothing. Sorry. I’ll just—um—sorry for waking you up,” I said. “I’ll just hang up and let’s pretend this never happened.” “Nope,” he said, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open. “Tell me what’s wrong.” “Really,” I insisted. “Forget it. Go back to sleep.” “I can’t do that.” “Yes, you can.” “Nope.” “Why not?” I heard the sound of jingling keys and the sound of a door shutting close. “Because I’m already on my way there.” --- I pushed the car door open and let myself out, closing the door just as Seth shut the trunk close. “You need any help?” I asked, eyeing the large backpack slung over one of his shoulders, the paper bag in one hand and the acoustic guitar in the other. “I can manage.” We walked side by side in silence as I looked around the deserted beach. I shoved my hands deeper in the pockets of my jacket, trying to ignore the cold bite of the sea breeze surrounding us. “Why did you bring me here?” When I paid him a sideways glance, he was giving me a thoughtful look. “If you want to go somewhere else, just say the word and I’m all for it.” “No,” I said. “No, this is fine. It’s a good place as any.” He smiled and I felt like I had to literally tear my eyes away from his face. We stopped just a few feet away from the shoreline, Seth setting everything down on the sand. He unzipped the backpack and fished a blanket out, and I was vaguely reminded of the time we had a picnic at the park. It seemed like such a long time ago now. Back then, I never would have called Seth in the middle of the night just because of a bad dream, and I never would have thought that I would ever learn to trust him to the point that surpassed the way I trusted Hail. Was it the same for him? I couldn’t tell. When he was done splaying the blanket out across the sand, he sat, stretching his legs in front of him. He smiled and patted the space next to him. “C’mere.” I kicked my slippers off and obeyed, trying to ignore the tingles I felt where my arm was pressed against his when I sat down. I hadn’t thought of changing out of the denim cutoffs I was wearing when I left, and the cold air bit at my bare legs, so I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them close. He reached for the paper bag and fished out three containers from it. I raised an eyebrow as he opened each container. One held a mix of sliced fruits, another had chocolate chip cookies and the last one had a variety of chips. When he saw the look on my face, he gave me sheepish look. “What? I’d love a midnight picnic anytime.” “How did you prepare all this?” “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he said and reached for his backpack. He dug around for a while before taking a silver thermos out, along with two white mugs. “I brought hot choco.”

Unbelievable. How could he have done all this? All this, just from a dream I had. And it wasn’t even remotely close to a bad one. Suddenly overwhelmed with both gratefulness and guilt, I turned to him. “You didn’t have to do all this.” “I wanted to,” he replied without missing a beat. He poured some chocolate on both of the mugs and handed one to me with a small, reassuring smile. “So,” he said when I took it from him. “What’s wrong?” “It’s stupid,” I replied, shaking my head.. “Really. All of… this wasn’t necessary.” “Give me some credit,” he said, lightly bumping his shoulder with mine. “I know you enough to know that you’re upset.” My eyes snapped to his. For a long time, we just looked at each other, and something about the way he was looking at me compelled me to speak. So I did. I told him about the dream, and the visit to the hospital. I told him about the images that kept bothering me when I tried to fall back to sleep. He kept his eyes on me the whole time, listening without once interrupting me, and something about the way he seemed to absorb every word made me feel like he genuinely cared. When I was done speaking, I couldn’t help but say, “I told you it wasn’t anything important.” He didn’t say anything for a beat, then he looked away and threw a small shell to the inky black ocean. “Seems pretty important to me.” “Not enough for you to do all this.” I gestured to the blanket and the food splayed out in front of us. “I just wanted to talk.” “Well, we’re talking.” “We could’ve done that over the phone.” “Well, yeah, but you sounded upset.” He nodded, tearing his gaze away from the ocean to look at me. “What else was I supposed to do?” I didn’t answer, too busy reminding myself to breathe. “You know,” he said, turning away to look back at the ocean, “that was really brave of you.” “What was?” “Going to the hospital.” He reached up, placing a hand on my head to, as I expected, ruffle my hair. He wasn’t smiling, but there was something about the thoughtful quality in his gaze that made my breath catch in my throat. When he released me, he shifted in his seat to grab the guitar. He started strumming something familiar. He was looking at the fret board, eyes downcast, head tilted to one side, and I watched him, transfixed. When he began singing, I realized the song was Collide by Howie Day. Why did I always find myself loving the way he sang, even though his voice was far from anything special? It felt like each word was ripping through me, breaking down the walls I’d put up around me. His eyes flickered to mine, and when our gazes locked, he grinned. The sight sent a shiver down my spine. Images of him flooded my brain. The way he cheerfully smiled when he said we were going on a picnic, a basket in one hand. The sad look on his face when he told me about Sam. The way his face lit up when he was with his friends. The vulnerability reflected in his eyes whenever Sarah was mentioned. The way his eyes crinkled whenever he grinned. The way he would kiss me, gentle and patient, never rushing anything, making me feel like everything was real. I thought about all these things, almost involuntarily as his voice filled my head, and I couldn’t believe that there was ever a time when I thought badly of him, when all this time, he was the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to get out of bed in the middle of the night just because I sounded upset. The butterflies continued to flutter about uselessly, not just in my stomach, but every- fucking-where, and it was like I could feel them in every crevice of my existence. It was impossible to ignore now, right here, with my heart jumping like a fucking gymnast to the rhythm of my perpetually misaligned thoughts. I was falling for Seth Everett.

@shaxee,u'r repeatin d episode na

Am kinda confuse guys

Chapter 27 I wish I could say that the realization made it easier to deal with everything—the butterflies, the blushing, the weird tingly sensations. It didn’t. In fact, it was the exact opposite. The moment the thought occurred to me, I bolted up from my seat, taking Seth by surprise. He stopped playing to look up at me. “I’m taking a walk,” I breathed out, not quite looking at him. A crease formed between his brows. He set the guitar down on the space next to him. “I’ll come with—” I had already turned on my heels before the words had even left his mouth. I didn’t bother to wear my slippers in my haste to leave. I heard him shouting in the growing distance. I snuck a glance over my shoulder and when I saw him pushing himself up to stand, I yelled, “Don’t follow me!” I hastened my steps, matching them to the beating of my heart. He looked confused, but I didn’t care. I just kept going, walking closer to the water before veering off to the right. I was falling for Seth Everett. Fuck. How the hell did that even happen? My thoughts had gone haywire as my mind tried to make sense of the erratic beating of my heart. What scared me most, though, wasn’t the thought of me falling for Seth. It wasn’t just that. It was the fact that no matter how hard I tried to come up with ways to convince myself that it was simply a foolish thought, I couldn’t come up with anything. Seth was thoughtful in a way that always managed to take me by surprise. He never failed to make me laugh. He always knew what to say to make me feel better. The sight of his smile made my heart do twenty fucking backflips. How could I have never seen it before? Moreover, how could I have let it happen? It felt both right and wrong at the same time. We were friends. I couldn’t possibly fall for him. Things were good the way they were and I didn’t want these feelings to ruin everything. There was also the unmistakable fact that Cedric still haunted me in a way that I couldn’t help. If only it was as simple as deciding I didn’t care anymore, I would have done it long ago, but it wasn’t. It felt weird, like I was gravitating towards Seth despite the magnetic pull that seemed to keep me attached to Cedric. Fuck. I couldn’t even understand my own thoughts. Nothing seemed to make sense. It was— “Holy shit.” My heart skipped a beat and my head snapped to the direction of Seth’s voice. He was hopping on one foot a few yards behind me, one hand stretched out for balance on his side while the other held onto his other foot. Before I knew it, I was already sprinting towards him. “What— what happened?” I managed to say when I was close enough. I was pretty sure I pulled a muscle but I could hardly make myself care.. He looked up at me, a grimace plastered on his face, “Hey.” I quickly crouched down to examine his foot. “Shit,” I cursed, trying not to shudder at the sight of blood pouring out of a long gash. “Sit down.” “No, it’s—” “Sit down,” I repeated in a firmer voice.

He did, ungracefully falling on his butt as he struggled to sit down with one foot suspended in mid- air. I gave the wound a closer look, trying to see past all the blood. I could hear the blood pounding against my ears, making it hard for me to focus on the task at hand, but I forced myself to stop panicking and focus on Seth’s foot. I prodded it gently with a finger, but he flinched almost instinctively. “A piece of glass got stuck,” I told him. “Is it supposed to bleed this much? I don’t think it’s supposed to bleed this much. Is it? I should—I should—there’s a—fuck, wait, I don’t—” “Kyla,” he said, unnervingly calm, “it’s nothing big.” “Are you kidding?” My face, I was sure, scrunched up into a deep scowl. “It’s like—like your foot is on its fucking period. On the second day!” He blinked, his eyebrows shooting way up his forehead, and after a few seconds of stunned silence, he burst out laughing. “What?” I all but screeched at him. “You’re freaking out,” he said in between laughs. He settled down with a smile that took my breath away. “It’s kind of cute.” I was suddenly thankful for the lack of light, if only to hide the blush that quickly crept its way to my cheeks. “I told you not to follow me,” I pointed out to him. “If you listened to me, you never would have stepped on this fucking piece of glass.” He winced a little as I gingerly touched the area around his wound. “What? Like I could just sit there and wait?” His concern washed over me, making my cheeks burn even hotter. Fuck. I’m so screwed. I heaved a sigh, knowing it was futile to argue with him. Quietly, I muttered, “You’re an idiot.” “I was just worried,” he reasoned. “Do you have a first aid kit in your car?” When he answered yes, I helped him get to his feet (or, you know, foot). He draped one arm over my shoulders for support, sending me a small apologetic look and we set out to return to our spot. I could tell he was trying not to put too much of his weight on me, but it still took some effort for both of us. I was surprised I hadn’t already fainted, considering that the fact that he was mostly pressed against me made breathing a chore that took a lot of deliberate effort. “This sucks,” he said under his breath. “If you just stayed back, this wouldn’t have happened,” I told him again. He scowled. “This was supposed to be the other way around.” “You want me to get hurt instead?” “I’m not saying that.” He frowned. “It’s just that if this was a movie or a novel or whatever, I would be carrying you and you’d be crying because, you know, you’re the one with the menstruating foot.” “Only if it was a sexist movie,” I told him, trying to fight a smile as he referred to his wound the way I had described it earlier. His frown was replaced by an amused smile, forcing me to look away immediately. “They’re my favorite,” he said but the look on his face told me he was only joking. “Can’t help but love it when the guy saves the girl and she falls madly in love with him.”

“Do you want me to?” I peered up at him through my lashes. “Fall madly in love with you.” The moment the words were out, I regretted ever opening my mouth to reply. He grinned. “Fat chance of that when you’re the one doing the saving and I’m the one with the menstruating foot, eh?” I didn’t tell him that there was actually still a pretty good chance. I was quiet for the rest of the hop- walk thing we had going on, mostly because I was trying to distract myself from his proximity by mentally singing nursery rhymes to myself. The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came Seth and —oh, just fuck it. We both sighed in relief when we got to the blanket. I had to bend down and help him sit carefully. My slightly fogged senses finally cleared up now that I wasn’t pressed against his side, so I straightened back up and asked him for the car keys. He retrieved them from his backpack and handed them to me. “Don’t you dare touch that wound until I get back.” He regarded me with a salute. “Ma’am, yes, Ma’am.” Five minutes later, his foot was propped up on his backpack and I was leaning closer to examine it further. The glass was actually a big piece, and I figured the tweezers were unnecessary, so I applied some alcohol to my hands. “You’re using your hands?” he asked, giving me a dubious look. I shushed him to let him know I preferred working in silence. The glass was wedged so deeply I was surprised Seth hadn’t actually cried. He winced audibly when I pulled it out, all at once in one quick pull to lessen the agony. “Holy shit, this looks like it hurts like a bitch.” The piece of glass was green, like it came from a broken wine bottle. It was triangular in shape and the longest side was the size of my thumb. “Does it look that bad?” Judging from the size of the glass and the bleeding gash, I decided it was better not to answer that question. I began cleaning the wound with some cotton and disinfectant, his foot occasionally jerking at the contact. Whenever I dared a glance at him, I would find him looking at the ocean, his jaw tightening as I applied pressure to the wound. I started digging around the first aid kid to look for something I could wrap it with when he broke the silence. “Why did you freak out all of a sudden?” I raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. “Maybe because you stepped on a deadly piece of glass?” “I meant earlier,” he told me with a shake of his head. “You just... stood up without warning and literally bolted. Scared the crap out of me.” “Oh.” I dropped my gaze and busied myself by looking for the medical tape from the box. “That.” “Yeah,” he said, “that.” Choosing it was best to shut my mouth, I started to unroll the gauze I found instead. “Was it because you remembered Cedric?” he asked me when it was clear I wasn’t going to answer anytime soon. “Cedric?” I looked up, my brows automatically pulling together. “Why did you think it was because of him?”

He was looking down, one hand fumbling with the hem of his hoodie. “I did bring you to the place where he dumped you.” He scowled right after saying the words. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put it as bluntly as that.” My heart leapt to my throat. “How did you know?” He paused long enough to look at me. Then, slowly, he said, “I was here when you broke up.” I stared at him, surprised, and tried to think back to that night. It was difficult to recall much of it, considering that I’d been doing my best to forget that it ever happened. I didn’t know what to say, so I refocused on his foot instead. “You asked me before I was so willing to help you,” he said after what felt like forever. Taking my silence as a cue to keep talking, he said, “I think it was because I saw myself in you.” I looked up at him, but his eyes were fixed elsewhere. With one hand, he pointed at a spot over my shoulder. “See that, right there?” I followed the direction he was looking at and saw the familiar juice bar I’d gone to after he dumped me. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I said, “What about it?” “That was where I saw you crying,” he answered. “You got out of the juice bar and pushed past me in your hurry.” I looked at him. “You saw me cry?” He lifted a hand over his shoulder and placed his palm on the back of his neck. “Yeah.” I sat there, blinking, trying and failing to completely process this information. “I didn’t know who you were at first,” he added. “Then I saw Cedric and realized we actually go to the same school,” he said. “Then that first day in homeroom, I knew you looked familiar, but it took a while for me to realize who you were and… I don’t know.” He sounded hesitant; like he was afraid of how I would react, but my silence must have compelled him to continue. “It felt like I could see right through the act you were putting up, because that was how I was acting too, and… maybe I saw myself in you.” For a second, I considered telling him about my feelings. The thought, however, completely evaporated as soon as I thought about the consequences. I hadn’t completely rid Cedric out of my system yet and I was sure he still had unresolved feelings towards Sarah as well. Telling him would only ruin things. Some part of me wanted to believe that he harbored the same feelings for me. What guy would get out of bed at one in the morning for someone who wasn’t special? But I knew Seth could have easily done the same thing for any of his friends and I refused get my hopes up. I wrenched my eyes from his and busied myself by wrapping up his wound instead. “You never answered, by the way.” My eyes flitted back to his. “Answered what?” “Why you freaked out.” I bit my lower lip and dropped my gaze back on his foot. “Well, it wasn’t Cedric.” First, silence, then, “Really?” I snuck a glance at him. “Mmm.” His face broke into a full grin. --- Not long after that, we decided it was time to leave. We packed up and carried all the stuff he brought back to his car. He had to limp so as not to put pressure on his wound and driving was out of the question. He tried to protest, but I wouldn’t let him. 

“Really,” he tried, trying to convince me to move away from the driver side door. “I won’t have to apply pressure with the wounded area.” Still, I wouldn’t budge, so he grudgingly agreed to let me drive. The fact that I had to drop him off at his house and bring his car home with me didn’t exactly help with his mood. He didn’t speak until we reached his house, and even then, he seemed reluctant to say goodbye. When I got home, I did my best to climb up my room as quietly as possible so Mom wouldn’t wake up. Then, as soon as I was tucked into the bed I left unmade earlier, I pulled my phone out and sent him a text. Thank you for tonight. How’s your foot? It didn’t take long for him to reply. Oh, you know, I think it’s still PMSing. I laughed out loud; the kind of incontrollable laughter that rose almost involuntarily, and I knew there was no use denying it now. Somewhere along the past few weeks, I had started to inch closer to the edge of a cliff, and I had no idea what was waiting for me at the bottom.

all over again?

Guys which episode did i stop cause i can't remember i change my phone so i lost ideas just remind me pls

Uhmm.. Dnt worry abt dat.. Hurry up with d old episodes so dat u can post a new one... Or better still scroll back 2 d previous episodes nd check ur updates...

You are at the exact point where you stop before..... Another episode from here would be new one.

Chapter 28 Somehow, I thought that realizing that I had feelings for Seth would have warranted a more dramatic turn of events in my life, but when I woke up at half past ten the next morning, the only drama going on was me mentally cursing whatever virus I had managed to catch overnight. It seemed like my bedroom was rocking when I sat up and I struggled to keep myself up. My head felt heavy, so my first instinct was to press the back of my hand against my forehead. My skin was hot to touch and I felt as though I might throw up any second, so I immediately plopped back into the bed. Part of me still refused to acknowledge my feelings for Seth, but try as I might, I knew I could no longer pretend that I hadn’t grown to like him. I knew it was stupid, but the damage was done now. I stifled a groan and pushed him out of my thoughts. Just when I was about to fall asleep again, I heard a soft tapping on my door. My first thought was that it was just my imagination, but then the door creaked open. I peeked from under the covers, trying my best not to move my head too much so I wouldn’t get dizzy, and I was surprised to find Mom holding a tray. She must have expected me to still be sleeping because the moment our eyes met, she froze. I didn’t know who was more stunned between the two of us, but then she recovered, blinking, as she took small steps towards my bed. “I thought I’d bring you some medicine,” she said, carefully setting the tray on my bedside drawer. “But don’t drink it with an empty stomach. Try to eat at least a few spoonfuls first.” My eyes darted to the tray and I was surprised to find a steaming bowl of oatmeal, a glass of water and some Paracetamol. I looked back at her, half-convinced that I was dreaming. Apart from the time she’d given me the earrings, we hadn’t talked in days, and it didn’t make sense for her to suddenly behave this way. She must have been aware of this too because there was a nervous lilt to her voice when she said, “How are you feeling?” “I’m fine,” I told her, easing myself up into a sitting position. “It was a good thing I checked up on you,” she said, hesitantly sitting down on my bed. “I wouldn’t have known you were running a fever.” “You checked up on me?” I didn’t mean it to sound haughty, but she flinched back at the words. I clamped my mouth shut, chastising myself for speaking without thinking. I expected her to leave, that my behavior had somehow broken whatever was going on between us right now, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “I saw Seth’s car in the driveway and thought maybe he would be here, so I checked your room and…” she trailed off, lifting her shoulders into a slightly apologetic shrug. At first I was confused, but then realization dawned on me. I did bring Seth’s car home last night, and I’d been so used to Mom’s silence that I didn’t even consider the possibility that she’d ask me about it. “We’re not—we didn’t have—he didn’t come here,” I said, feeling my already flushed cheeks burn even further. The idea of explaining the whole thing to her seemed like a huge step. Telling her about the car meant that I had to tell her about sneaking out in the middle of the night, and that meant that I also had to tell her about the reason why I felt the need to sneak out in the first place. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to discuss things about Dad with her; it just seemed so out of place for the two of us to do that, especially because we never really did.

When Dad died, it was like we made a silent agreement to put a lid on our feelings; a sloppy attempt to make everything seem normal just so we could move forward. Now, the opportunity to talk about it presented itself, and upon seeing her expectant gaze on mine, I found myself grabbing onto it. “Hail’s mom had a mild stroke a few days ago and I went to the hospital with her yesterday. It wasn’t too serious, but they had to be cautious,” I explained, pausing to take a deep breath before liftin my eyes to hers. “The visit made me think of Dad.” Her shoulders went rigid. In retrospect, I would have preferred to have this conversation when my nose wasn’t stuffed with snot and my mind didn’t feel as sluggish as it did, but I was afraid I might never get the chance to talk to her about this again so I continued. “I woke up last night and couldn’t fall back to sleep. I kept thinking of him.” I shook my head.“I really miss him.” She let out a breath and for the first time since my father’s casket was lowered to the ground, I finally saw her strong façade falter, revealing the vulnerability she had hidden for so long. “I miss him, too,” she said, her voice catching on the third word. “I miss him a lot.” “That’s a lie,” I snapped. Taken aback, her eyes snapped to mine. I refused to look away, daring her to deny it, and then her eyes softened. She bit her lower lip, dropping her gaze to her hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Norman.” I wasn’t sure what surprised me more: the fact that she didn’t fight back or the fact that she was apologizing. For weeks I’ve waited for her to say sorry; waited for her to acknowledge that while I knew I’d been rash and prideful and immature about the whole thing, she had done something wrong too. I’ve waited and waited and waited, thinking the day would never come, but now here it was, and I couldn’t say anything. “I was just waiting until I was sure that things between us were serious before I told you about him,” she told me. “You weren’t supposed to find out that way.” I knew, of course, that this was a good thing. For the longest time, my mom had focused on nothing but her job, and I’ve always worried that she would never be happy again. Dad’s death robbed her off her smiles and laughter and I’ve always wished for her to be happy, and this was it. She was moving on from Dad and it was unfair for me to act like it was a bad thing. “I’m sorry for never being home too,” she added, looking right at me. “When Charlie died, I could hardly even force myself to get out of my bed, and there you were, taking care of yourself, doing your chores without anyone telling you to do them, making friends. “You did so well in school while I sat at work, bursting into tears whenever I find anything that reminded me of your father.” Her voice was beginning to crack at a lot of places, but if she noticed, she didn’t care. “But you were growing up so quickly, and I was ashamed because you were taking his death a lot better than I was, so I forced myself to work hard.” I bit down on my lower lip, convincing myself that the moisture in my eyes and the lump in my throat were simply by-products of my fever. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” I told her, surprised that my voice came out a lot like hers did. I clenched my fists to control the shaking of my fingers, as if that would get rid of the shaking of my voice. “Not when I knew things were already hard for the two of us. But then you started coming home less, and I just…”

“I’m sorry.” I looked away and swallowed, lifting a hand to my eyes. “Yeah,” I said. “Me, too.” For the longest time, the two of us sat in silence. I took the moment in, keeping the tears in and immediately wiping away the stubborn ones that kept rolling down my face. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, but by the time I calmed down into small sniffles, the oatmeal on my bedside table was no longer steaming hot. “Kyla?” she suddenly said. “Mmm?” “That still doesn’t explain Seth’s car.” --- I woke up a few hours later feeling considerably better. My head was still feeling twice as heavy as it usually was, but the room no longer spun around me, so the medicine must have been working. For a moment, I worried that the whole exchange between my mother and I were just part of a dream designed to mock me, but when I turned to the bedside drawer and saw my car keys, I knew it had happened. I found that I could stand long enough to stagger downstairs, but the slightest movements were enough to make me feel like the oatmeal I ate a while ago would make an unwanted reappearance, so the moment I got reached the living room, I sat down. Mom walked in just a few moments after I turned the TV on. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that everything between us would suddenly resemble those mother- daughter relationships that always seemed so ideal. There were so many years of prolonged silence that separated us, but the awkwardness, I suspected, was more a product of the two of us still feeling our way around each other, trying to figure out how to act like normal mothers and daughters when we’ve been doing exactly the opposite of that for years now. “So,” she said, folding her hands on her lap and turning to me. “Seth.” I cringed almost automatically even though there were no longer signs of contempt in the way she said his name. Perhaps the fact that he introduced me to his mother had changed the way she saw him, or maybe it was just a side effect of making up with me. “He’s not that bad,” I told her. “I swear. He’s…” I trailed off, picking at the hem of my oversized shirt. Almost as if on cue, the doorbell rang. Mom was about to stand up, but I beat her to it. I had a feeling I knew who it would be. Sure enough, I opened the door to the sight of Seth standing on our porch, both hands shoved deep in his pockets. I ignored the way my heart seemed to skip a beat when our eyes met. “Why am I not surprised?” I asked him. Judging from the smirk on his face, I could tell he was about to say something else entirely, but it faded into a slight frown when he got a better look at me. “Are you sick?” The unmistakable note of concern laced in his voice successfully made me feel all fluttery inside. Almost automatically, he lifted his hand to press it against my forehead. “Holy shit, you’re burning.” I swatted his hand away. “What are you doing here?” “Wow, Ky, I missed you so much, too.”

“You mean you missed your car.” His shoulders lifted in a lazy shrug as his lips tugged into a slow smile. “Busted.” I did my best to ignore his grin. “How’d you get here?” I asked him, eyeing his injured foot. “Are you sure you should even be walking?” He lifted his foot a bit, slipping it out of his flip flops to examine it. “I’m not putting any pressure on it. It hurts like a bitch.” He looked up from it the same time I did. “I think it’s still having menstrual cramps.” I gave him an unimpressed stare. “Are ever going to let that go?” “Nope,” he replied, an easy smile spreading across his face. “And I got here because of them.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder and I craned my neck to see Warren and Alyssa getting out of the van that was parked right behind Seth’s. My face broke into a grin of my own as my eyes locked with Alyssa’s. “Wait,” Seth said, moving so that he was blocking her from view. “She gets a big grin the moment you see her and all I get is a snarky question in Squidward’s voice?” Ignoring this, I pushed past him to get a better view of Alyssa and Warren walking closer to the porch. I was aware of how rude I was being, but I couldn’t help it. I was too aware of my feelings for him, and no matter how stupid it sounded, I was afraid to drop the act; terrified of the possibility that he might see right through me. I’d just thrown my arms around Alyssa when my mom suddenly emerged from the front door. The smile on Seth’s face immediately faded as he straightened up. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Evans. I’m—” “Seth, right?” she said. Her eyes flicked to mine for a moment and I stared at her, wondering what she would do, hoping she wouldn’t shoo him away or shoot him with a barrage of questions, but when she turned back to look at him, all she said was, “Please. Call me Rachel. Why don’t you all come in for lunch?” Seth’s eyes searched mine and I just shook my head and gave him what I hope was a look that said I’ll explain later. “I would love to,” Seth replied, sliding his gaze back to hers, and I was surprised to hear him sound so unusually polite. “But my mom expects be to be home early. I’m really sorry.” I could see my mom studying him closely and before she could start interrogating him, I cut in and introduced Warren and Alyssa, though Mom still remembered Alyssa from when she helped me get ready to meet Isabelle. Thankfully, the house phone rang, and Mom had to go back inside. I went to grab Seth’s keys and when I came back out, Alyssa and Warren were already leaning against the van, leaving me and Seth alone on the porch. “You and your mom,” he said, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. “I’ll tell you later,” I replied. He nodded, shooting me a quick smile. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that.” Then, before I could say anything, he suddenly swooped down to plant a kiss on my cheek, effectively making me catch my breath at the sudden contact. When he pulled away, he wrapped me in a hug. “Get well soon, Squidward.” --- “I told you so!” Hail yelled as soon as I told her that I realized I may or may not have feelings for Seth, prompting me to put some distance between my ear and the phone.

“Don’t make me regret telling you,” I told her. “But I totally called it. You—” “I get it,” I snapped, cursing myself for blushing so easily. “Will you please just get to the part where you give me advice?” She had always been the planner (for lack of a better term) between the two of us, and despite the fact that she kept repeating the whole “I knew you like Seth” thing, I was glad that I had worked things out with her. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to about this. “For now,” she said in her no- nonsense voice, “you can’t tell him yet. Telling him is too big of a move for something that requires timing.” “Timing?” “Yes. Timing,” she echoed, and without elaborating this, she moved on. “We have to find out about this Sarah girl. We have to know where Seth stands with her.” “Okay,” I said. “Then you have to observe him real close and casually ask Lily and the others about his normal behavior with them. Compare it to the way he acts with you when you’re alone.” “Okay,” I repeated. “And also,” she said, her voice dropping into a quiet murmur, “you have to work things out with Cedric.” I knew she was going to say that. I expected it, knowing full-well that Hail didn’t like loose ends, and neither did I, but I made Cedric an exception, if only because seeking closure made it final. Like doing so would fully close the door that let him in before he decided to walk out of it. Seeking closure, to me, felt like locking that door and throwing away the key. But I knew it had to be done, so I forced myself to say, “Okay.” Just four letters strung together to form a simple word that took everything I had in me to say. For a moment, she didn’t speak, then, hesitantly, she said, “Kyla?” “Mmm?” “Are you sure you’re not using Seth as a rebound?” I anticipated this question too, but I still found myself fumbling for a reply. I turned on my side and curled up, my eyes landing on the case of the All Time Low album perched atop my bedside drawer. “When I’m with him,” I told her, closing my eyes and trying to stay as honest as possible, “it’s like I don’t even remember who Cedric is.” “But?” I opened my eyes, not entirely surprised that she knew I still had something to say. “I don’t know. When I see Cedric… I know I’m not completely over him yet. Is that bad?” First, silence. Then, “No,” she said, “just sad.” “For whom?” “The three of you.” I knew she was right. I had to talk to Cedric. I had to close that door and tie all those loose ends. I couldn’t act on my feelings for Seth until I was sure I wasn’t just setting him, or me, or even Cedric, for more heartbreak. The last thing I wanted to do was trip on untied shoelaces just when I’d settled into a comfortable pace. As soon as I hung up, my phone rang with another call. Seeing his name made me feel both wary and excited and I had to struggle to keep my voice calm before picking it up.

Then. If Love Is A Crime. I would prefer to walk away from it. I can't afford to go to Love-prison. I'm not ready to be wanted in Love-land. I can't stand a day in Love-jail. "Is Love Is A Crime?" Author:- Unknown.. Its good if Kyla could follow Hail's words...... She need to give Cedric a chance for her to know why he broke her heart..

“You know,” I said in lieu of a hello, “Spongebob usually waits another day before bothering Squidward again.” “I’d been trying to call you for the past hour.” “Oh. I was on the phone with Hail,” I told him. “What’s up?” “I just wanted to check up on you. How are you feeling?” I closed my eyes, pressing the phone closer to my ear, as if that would bring him closer as well. “I’m feeling better.” “Good.” I didn’t have anything to say to that, so I kept my mouth shut. There was a rustle, then I heard him take a deep breath. “So.” I raised an eyebrow. “So.” “You and your mom.” If he found it surprising for me to have made up with Mom, he didn’t show it. He kept his voice neutral, asking without asking in a way that made me feel like he would have been okay with whether or not I answered, and it was exactly this that compelled me to talk to him, so I did. I told him about what happened this morning, and when I was done, he told me he was glad Mom and I were back in good terms. I expected him to say goodbye, then, but he didn’t, and for a prolonged moment of silence, we just stayed on the line, listening to each other’s subtle breathing. When I thought the silence had grown long enough, I cleared my throat. “Seth?” “Yeah?” “Is there something else you want to say?” I wasn’t sure what I expected when I asked him that, but it definitely hadn’t been the words, “Question game.” It seemed like only yesterday, Seth and I had barely known each other, and now he knew me more than anybody else, and it was all because of this “game” he’d thought up when I ran away that night. I’d already used up four of my questions and this one was going to be his fourth as well, and for some reason, I felt weirdly nervous. Perhaps it was because I was more conscious of him now, or because I heard the hesitation in his voice as well. Whichever it was, it made me feel uneasy. I swallowed, forcing out an “Okay.” There was a moment of silence as I waited for him to speak again, making me grow even more anxious, and I had to focus on the blinking colon on my digital clock just so my thoughts wouldn’t run wild. There was a rustle, then, softly, he said, “What happens after this?” My throat went dry. “This?” “The whole fake relationship thing,” he replied. His voice was calm and even, making it hard for me to imagine the expression on his face. “What happens after?” “Other than Alyssa and Lily castrating you?” I asked him in a futile attempt to delay having to answer. He didn’t even force a laugh. I realized for the first time how fragile this thing between us was, and it felt as if my answer could break it to pieces. Why did he ask this, of all questions? Was he planning to end the whole deal soon? My heart dropped to my stomach at the thought. Taking a deep breath, I said, “If it was totally up to me, I don’t want to go back to being strangers.” He let out an audible sigh. “You scared me for a second there.”

“You think I don’t want to remain friends after this?” I asked him, surprised. “Well,” he huffed, “you’re not exactly the most affectionate person.” Even though he couldn’t see me, I still found myself fighting back a smile. “Shut up.” At this, he laughed. “See? ‘Shut up’? I’m really feeling the love here, Squidward.” “Well, Spongebob, you’re annoying.” He laughed, and even over the phone, the sound managed send shivers down my spine. “You do know,” he said, “that deep inside, Squidward actually loves Spongebob, right?” I froze, my hands tightening around my phone. If the way he said it was any indication, it was nothing but a joke, and he seemed completely unaware of the effect his words hand on me. When I replied, my voice was barely above a whisper. “Does Spongebob know that?” “Of course.” No, I thought. No, he doesn’t.

Great...... Its about time you asked him about Sarah......... @bella Me ah no know wetin happen to the story, I'm as confuse as you with sudden disappearance of the story.... If I could talk alot, you could kept mute alot.

Chapter 29 One of things I never thought I’d ever live to see was Seth Everett in a bad mood, but that Monday morning, I became a firsthand witness of his moodiness. At lunch, everyone, much to his annoyance, marveled at Seth’s sullen aura. Seth had always been calm and collected, at least when he was around other people, and seeing him get pissed off over the littlest things—like Justin spilling his drink on him—was a spectacle for all of us. When Seth stood up to change his drenched shirt, Dan offered to help him, but he refused and walked (or, more accurately, limped) away. “Well, he’s in a mood,” Alyssa observed when he was no longer in sight. I couldn’t really blame him. Like me, Alyssa had refused to let him drive with an injured foot, so she refused to give him his car keys. This inevitably led to me having to pick him up for school, something he wasn’t quite happy about. “I’d be in a bad mood if I were him too,” Dan said. “I’m sure you would be if you couldn’t even kiss your girlfriend,” Alyssa added, smirking as she slid her eyes to me. At the mention of this, I flushed. “It’s not my fault I’m carrying around a virus.” Unlike usual, when Seth leaned down for a quick kiss after first period this morning, I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him slightly, my heart racing so hard I was sure it was going to jump out of my chest. “What’s wrong?” he asked me. I shook my head. “I’m sick, remember? You might catch the virus.” He stared hard at me for at least three seconds before saying, “Okay, “ and settling for a kiss on my forehead instead. We hadn’t kissed (on the lips) at all today and I was thankful for the fact that while my fever had gone down, I hadn’t yet fully recovered. It gave me a pretty good excuse to avoid kissing him. Perhaps I was simply overthinking things, but somehow, I knew that once he kissed me, he’d find out about my feelings for him, and I couldn’t risk that. Not until I was sure where things stood between us. “Guess we’ll just have to deal with this Grumpy Seth until Kyla recovers,” Warren muttered. “I actually like Grumpy Seth,” Alyssa said, picking up a handful of Warren’s fries. “He seems so mysterious and… brooding.” “What do you think will cheer him up?” I suddenly blurted out. I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them, not just because it resulted to Alyssa and Lily squealing and gushing about me being a “caring girlfriend,” but also because it was embarrassing to let them know that I did care. From beside me, I felt Hail nudging me with her elbow, and when I turned to her, she was waggling her eyebrows at me. “I can feel the love.” I flushed. “I’m not—” From the other end of the table, Rev suddenly spoke up, “I think I know something that can cheer him up.” --- Rev wasn’t kidding when he said that Seth loved frozen yogurt. When I made a turn to take the long way home, Seth eyed me suspiciously but didn’t comment. Rev and the rest suggested that I should surprise him with an unexpected trip to Snowflake. I couldn’t help but think back to the time he brought me here so we could talk about how we were going to do this whole fake dating thing, and I realized we’d gone a long way from there.

Back then, I couldn’t wait to get away from Seth, and if anybody had told me that I was going to end up liking Seth, I would have sent them to the mental hospital. When I parked in front of Snowflake, Seth slowly looked out the window. I turned the engine off, watching him expectantly, and was unexpectedly rewarded with a big, child-like grin. His sudden cheerfulness caught me off guard, and before I could react, he was already out the car, slamming the door shut behind him. If the way he tugged at me just so we could go in was any indication, he was definitelyfeeling better. He ordered the same thing he did last time, choosing blueberry and raspberry toppings, and when he asked for mine, I just shook my head. “I’m still sick, remember?” He looked at me for a long while and I nearly ran back to the car to hide from his scrutinizing gaze. I looked away and once again started singing nursery rhymes to distract myself. Needless to say, it wasn’t working. And all I managed to do was imagine Seth as a little fucking teapot. I saw his lips twitch as he peered at me. “So, you drove all the way here… for me?” Flustered, I ignored him and left to sit at one of the booths, and even without turning around, I knew he was grinning. “So tell me,” he said as soon as he slid into the seat across me, “have you finished writing your piece for that writing contest?” “I hadn’t even thought of anything to write,” I replied, surprised that he hadn’t forgotten about it yet. “The deadline’s set Friday next week.” Something about the last three words I just said made him purse his lips together. “What?” I asked him. “Friday next week,” he said, looking down at his cup. “Remember when I told you Dad was coming home?” I took in a sharp breath. He looked up to give me a worn smile. “I think Mom’s really stressing over it.” The smile was nothing but sad, and somehow, the sight of it made my heart clench. At that moment, I would have given him all the frozen yogurt in the world just so I wouldn’t have to look at it ever again. I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked out the clear glass, staring at the street outside as the cars continued to pass and the rest of the world continued to move. “Sorry,” he suddenly said. “I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” My eyes snapped to his. “How many times do I have to tell you that you can talk to me too?” His smile shifted into something that resembled his usual Seth Everett smile, but his eyes gave him away. “Can we just… not talk about depressing stuff for a while?” “Aw, shucks. And here I thought we could talk about the How I Met Your Mother finale,” I said. “I guess not.” Finally, he grinned and feeling like I earned it, I grinned right back. “That is some pretty depressing stuff,” he agreed. “Well, I’ve come to terms with it,” I told him. “Actually, it’s technically a really good ending. In fact, it’s a great ending. The only thing that makes it seem like a bad ending is because it’s not what everyone wants.”

Lol.... Well Well.... I do kept mute.. But not like you..... Seth also had fall for Kyla but its hard for him to admit it... Seth realy like keeping things away from Kyla...... Eager to know what the future would bring for them.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Really.” “Seriously,” I said, “It portrays real life in a way that most stories don’t. It shows how it doesn’t always end the way we expect it to.” He raised an eyebrow at this. “Well, thanks a lot for this depressing analysis of life.” I cringed. “I really suck at cheering people up, don’t I?” “Yup,” he replied, and before I could call him out for being ungrateful, he sent me an amused smile. “But it’s working.” --- Rarely did I ever talk about my life before my father’s death. Not even to Cedric. Back then, talking about the past made me feel like I was acknowledging my dad’s death, and I couldn’t handle that. I was convinced I needed to focus on the present and the future because it was easier to pretend that the past had never even existed. With Seth, it was different. The night I told him about Dad and he told me about his sister, something had shifted between us. Before that, I never would have openly talked about my father, afraid that doing so would only make me weak, but I was wrong. Seth might have been right when he said I didn’t like getting into terms with my feelings, because for a long time, I’d run away from the past, and only when I found myself talking to Seth about my childhood, seated in the comfortable booth at Snowflake, did I realize that the only way to really move on is to face the past. So we stayed long after he finished his yogurt, unaware of how quickly time had flown by, and by the time we decided to leave, it was already well past dinnertime. He was in the middle of telling me the story of the time Sam had accidentally given him a black eye as we pushed past the glass door of Snowflake, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up as he talked, his hands making animated gestures as he relived the past through his words. “So I was standing there, about to open the door, and all of a sudden, it flew open,” he was telling me, “and the doorknob hit me right in the eye. I started crying in front of everyone.” He shook his head, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “God, it was so embarrassing.” I watched him, unable to keep myself from smiling as well. I wasn’t sure how long we’d stayed there when we decided to leave. He was still limping and I deliberately slowed down to match his pace when we walked across the parking lot. I tried to drink in the simplicity of the moment; to revel in the thought that I’d successfully cheered him up, and it was weirdly satisfying. Perhaps it made me feel like he was relying on me, too; that he trusted me just as much as I trusted him, and to me, that was more than enough. I was about to unlock the driver’s side door when he suddenly said, “Thanks for bringing me here.” He was standing on the other side of the car, poised in front of the passenger side, but despite the distance and the chunk of metal separating us, I felt as though we were standing way too close to each other. “It’s the least I could do,” I told him, dropping my eyes to the keys in my hand. “Take it as my thanks for the midnight picnic.” “Are you free on Saturday?”

I flushed, my eyes involuntarily snapping to his. “What?” I expected him to be amused with my incredibly coherent reply, but I was surprised to find him rubbing the spot behind his neck, the reddening of his cheeks visible from the light spilling out of Snowflake. “Plans,” he repeated. “Saturday. There’s this new cupcake shop that opened two towns over and I thought maybe we could… well, you know. Hang out?” Something fluttered in my chest, sending tingles all over my body. Was he asking me out on a date? The thought made me giddy and I had to bite on my lower lip to keep myself from smiling. I was just about to say yes, when a sudden thought nagged at me, and instead I let out a curse. All the fluttery feelings evaporated in an instant, and I found myself giving him an apologetic look. “I have to go to the museum with Cedric.” His brows creased together. “Cedric?” “It’s for a project.” “Oh.” He contemplated on this for a while, and his silence compelled me to explain the whole thing to him, including Mr. Callahan’s stupid buddy rule. “Will you be okay?” he asked me. I looked away. “Of course.” I had to be. “But you’ll be free on Sunday, right?” I peered up at him. “I think.” “Good. We’re going to have a cookout at Lily’s,” he replied. “Some barbecue and a variety of unhealthy food. We usually sleep over and they’ll probably force you to come. You’ll come, right?” I smiled. “You had me at unhealthy food.” “You know”—he folded his hands over the roof of my car and rested his chin on them—“you’ve changed a lot. You smile more often lately. Should I be worried?” Immediately after hearing the last part, I scowled, prompting him to laugh. “Aaand you’re back to normal,” he said. “A shame, really. I like it when you smile.” I stared at him, trying to figure out if it was nothing but a simple compliment, or if it was something more. If he wasn’t so confusing, I would have probably told him about my real feelings already. I wanted to believe in the possibility that he liked me too; that he would admit it once I tell him my feelings, but the truth was that I didn’t know that. For all I knew, he might just see me as a friend. He’d told me one too many times that I was one of his closest friends, and I literally had no idea how to read him when it came to these kinds of feelings, and before I could stop myself, I said, “Question game.” His eyebrows creased, and for a moment he just eyed me. I didn’t look away until he gave me a hesitant nod. “That Catching Juliet mix in your car,” I began, studying him to gauge his reaction, “was it for Sarah?” Immediately after hearing the question, he looked away. I dared him to say pass, because it was Sarah we were talking about, and I knew he didn’t like talking about her. The thought made my stomach clench, thinking about how he was still greatly affected by her, but I knew I couldn’t blame him for that; not when it was the same for me with Cedric. “Yeah,” he replied. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Sarah loves Romeo and Juliet. She once played as Juliet in this summer art camp in middle school. It was the first time I met her.”

I'm just wondering about the duo.... Its too hard to just split-out one's feeling when one had not been certain of others feelings.

Hmmmm,interesting

“I think Romeo and Juliet sucks,” I said bluntly, ignoring the way my insides seem to twist upon hearing him murmur her name like it was blessing of sorts. He raised an eyebrow at this, looking surprised and vaguely amused. “I mean,” I continued, “they practically wanted to suck each other’s faces off the moment they saw each other. Doesn’t seem romantic at all to me. And didn’t Romeo have a girlfriend or something?” He was looking at me with curious eyes and I looked away indignantly, feeling as if I was over-stepping the line here. I was, after all, dissing his ex-girlfriend’s favorite play. “It’s not exactly a romantic play though. It’s a tragedy.” I couldn’t help but scrunch my face in disgust. “More like a comedy. It’s fucking stupid.” “You don’t think it’s romantic? The whole ‘I’d rather die than live without you thing’?” I couldn’t tell if he was amused or surprised or confused. He just kept staring at me with his eyebrows pulled together. “What’s romantic about it?” I asked him. “Let’s say they didn’t die at that pathetic excuse of an ending. Let’s say Romeo and Juliet got to grow old together.” “Okay,” he said, “I’m listening.” “What if twenty years in the future, Romeo got sick and died?” I kept my eyes locked with his. “What will Juliet do? Will she kill herself because he’s dead?” I could tell he was considering this thought, an unreadable expression on his face. “If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s the fact that The End is never the end,” I added. “If Romeo didn’t die in that last act, he would have in another, and the same goes with Juliet.” He continued to look at me for a few more beats, letting the words hang in the air in silence. I waited for a reaction of sorts, feeling increasingly embarrassed for getting so hyped up over a play as the seconds ticked by in silence. He shifted, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You know, you actually have a point.” I swallowed. “You think so?” He grinned. “Yeah.” It was stupid, I knew, but it felt as thought he was choosing me over Sarah by agreeing, and maybe that was a ridiculous thought, but there was nothing I could do to stop the grin that spread across my face. --- After dropping Seth off and saying a quick hello to Isabelle, I headed home and was surprised to find my mom waiting for me in the living room. The moment I walked in, she put the folder she was studying on the glass table and looked up at me with a smile. “Hey.” I was still getting used to this new dynamic of our relationship, so I found myself slowing down a little as I walked closer to the couch. “Hey.” “Have you eaten?” she asked me as she stood up. When I shook my head, the smile on her face widened. “Oh, good. I cooked dinner.” To say I was surprised would have been an understatement. Not only had her smile been jarring, but the thought of her actually cooking for the two of us to have dinner together was nearly enough to make me choke up. Before I could even respond, she was turning to go to the dining room. I followed suit and helped her set up, and the nostalgia was so overwhelming I had to suppress the urge to cry.

At first we ate in silence, but something about her posture— rigid and stiff—let me know that something was up. Sure enough, just as we began to clean the table, she stopped and turned to me completely. “I was thinking,” she began, her voice edged with nerves, “of inviting Norman over for dinner. Would that be okay with you?” I blinked as I processed this information, letting it sink in before reacting. I cleared my throat and said, “Okay.” She visibly sagged in relief, looking as if the whole exchange had exhausted her. “Oh, thank heavens.” I bit my lower lip. “When? I’ll make sure to stay out of your way.” “Oh. No.” The nervous energy was back again. “I actually—um—I’d like you to meet him.” I was just about to (violently) refuse, almost instinctively, but I caught myself. I thought back to the conversation I had with Seth earlier, about Romeo dying and Juliet being pathetic, and only then did it hit me that my mother was only doing her best to live a life without Dad. And now that I thought about it, I realized I hadn’t been giving her enough credit. “You can invite Seth,” she added hurriedly, “if you want.” I looked at her and swallowed hard before saying, “Okay. When is it?” She let out a sigh of relief. “I haven’t asked him yet. I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.” “Oh.” For a long time, I didn’t think my opinion would have mattered to her, and knowing that it did felt nice. I looked down, trying to blink back some of the moisture in my eyes, and said, “Okay.” She let out a breath. “Thank you.” I nodded, taking in the grateful expression on her face, committing it to memory, before leaving to put the plates in the dishwasher I hadn’t seen it before, too blind with my own rage and anger, but now the image was crystal clear. My mom hadn’t given up on living when her Romeo died. And perhaps it should be the same for being dumped. I was strong enough to live a life without Cedric. I knew this now. I may not have moved on completely yet, but I was getting there, bit by bit. All I had to do was tie the loose ends together; close the door and find another one. I had to know why he broke up with me, to understand what went wrong, so I could accept the truth that we were over for good. The moment I climbed up to my room, I walked over to the photo of Cedric and me on the bedside drawer. I picked the frame up, trying to remember the way I felt when it was taken. I smiled at the memory. It was like I could still feel the slightly uncomfortable dress I’d been wearing. I had been afraid of what Cedric thought about it, convinced that I was somehow going to mess the night up one way or another, but my worries melted away the moment he took my hand in his. Now, I looked at the photo and tried to remember everything that had gone right, and even those that hadn’t. Then I flipped the frame over. For a second, my hands refused to move, but I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts. I slipped the lock off and opened the back of the frame. With slightly trembling hands, I finally, finally, took the picture out.

Hmmmmm......... Though I'm yet to figure out the exact message this chapter about Romeo & Juliet is given out but I think I could get little from it!!!!! @Inemlove Lol...... Who & who is fighting??.... I Am/We are just joking......... Joke & Fight are differ.

Chapter 30 Of course, that didn’t mean that Cedric was completely out of the picture now. The moment I pulled into the parking lot in front of the museum, I saw him standing by a pillar in front of the run-down marble structure. He didn’t seem to notice me arrive, too busy fiddling with a camera, and from where I was sitting inside the car, I found myself studying him. I let myself look at him, realizing that despite the fact that I’d seen him every day at school, I hadn’t really been looking at him at all, and now that I did, it was like I was seeing him for the first time in a long time. He was still the same Cedric that I had fallen in love with two years ago, the same Cedric I met back in grade school, the same person who picked me up and help me get through the first few months after my father’s death, and yet it felt as though everything had changed. I looked away, forcing myself to take deep breaths to calm myself. He looked up when he saw me walking towards him. I couldn’t quite look him in the eye so my gaze landed on his dark grey tee, which made him stand out in stark contrast with the off-white walls of the museum. He lowered the camera and just stared at me. “Let’s go,” I said when the silence became too much to bear. I walked ahead of him, gripping the handle of my bag tighter than I should, my nails digging into the skin of my palm. The museum was nearly empty, save for a handful of old people milling around, as well as a group of grade school students lining up to get the tour with their teachers. Still, there was too much space to fill, which meant that the distance between me and Cedric seemed much larger than it actually was. We didn’t speak much, save for when we worked out the details of the project and how we were going to do it, then we immediately set off to work, taking pictures and making notes first, deciding we’ll do the videos after roaming around the whole museum. We worked like we were strangers; like two classmates who were simply forced to spend the day together to work on a project, and I realized that maybe we were simply just that. Sure, he might still be the same person I’d grown up with, but in the short time we spent apart from each other, we’d changed. At least I did. I wasn’t surprised that we finished early. He was always efficient when it came to everything he wanted to do, like everything always went according to his plan, and briefly I wondered if dumping me had been in his plans all along. I watched him as he packed his stuff up, never once looking my way, and I realized that we could coexist this way. We could act like the past had never happened, burying it deep where nobody could ever find it because that was the only for us to spend a day together without hurting. And perhaps I would have left unscathed if I hadn’t stepped off the museum steps the same moment a man decided to run across the sidewalk. He hadn’t seen me and I hadn’t noticed him until he was already barreling into me, hitting me with such force that I lost my balance and stumbled on the ground. Almost as if by reflex, Cedric immediate crouched next to me. “Shit, Ky, are you okay?” he asked me just as the man started to apologize. “I’m fine,” I said, wincing when I pushed myself up to sit. “It’s okay. I’m fine.” When I tried to stand, Cedric immediately placed a hand on my waist to assist me. I tried to remember to breathe, forcing myself to ignore the feel of his hands on me, and was thankful that the man still kept apologizing, which made it easier for either of us to ignore the way he had casually touched me.

“It’s fine,” I told the man. “Really. I’m fine.” When the man left, still apologizing profusely, I looked down to examine the damage. The thin material of my black leggings was torn, as well as the skin on my bleeding knee. I heard Cedric hiss out a curse when he saw it, and when he dragged his eyes back to mine, he said, “Let’s get that cleaned up.” “It’s just a scratch.” I took a step towards my car, suppressing the urge to grimace when I had to straighten my leg. “It won’t take long,” he insisted, and before I could protest, he placed one arm around my waist and held the crook of my elbow with his other hand. He led me back to my car and had me sit sideways on the driver’s seat before leaving to get the first aid kit from his car. “It’s really nothing,” I told him when he came back, examining the scrape and the bright red blood that surrounded it. “It won’t take long,” he repeated, lowering himself on the ground to get a better look of the wound. I was reminded of the time Seth stepped on that piece of glass, and for some reason, this whole scene with Cedric almost seemed ironic to me; like life had a twisted sense of humor for leading me to a situation that reminded me of both Cedric and our past and Seth and the present. He kept his eyes lowered, never daring to look at me, as he began to pour alcohol on a cotton ball. I braced myself as his hands moved closer to my knee, but just when he was about to touch me, he stopped. For a moment, I wondered why, but then I realized with a start that his hands were trembling. Something about the sight made me feel as if somebody had transported me back to the first time he held my hand. It had only been a few weeks after Dad died, and a friend of Mom got married. We were invited to the wedding and I remember tripping on my dress during the reception. That was when he appeared right before me, asking me if I was okay as he held his hand out to me. He helped me get back on my feet in more ways than one. Here, now, his hands were trembling so much it was like he was afraid of touching me, and I was surprised to see that mine were too, so I clenched them into fists and held them to my lap. Slowly, he placed one hand on the side of knee, careful not to touch the wounded area and tingles spread from my leg to the rest of my body, responding to the familiarity of his skin on mine. “This might sting a bit,” he said before pressing the cotton against the bleeding wound. I flinched a little at the sharp sting of alcohol and he quickly removed the cotton. “Sorry.” “No,” I said. “It was just a reflex.” He looked back at the wound and gently resumed wiping the blood away. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It was just the alcohol.” His eyes flickered to mine. “I wasn’t talking about that.” “Oh.” Neither of us said anything as he finished cleaning the wound, using three more cotton balls until the blood started to clot. I expected him to stand up and leave, then, but he didn’t, and I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just sat there and waited.

Chapter 31 I hoisted my bag higher up my shoulder, making sure that all four doors of my car were locked. Sometimes, the locks didn’t exactly work as well as they should. It was a routine I’d gotten used to in the two years I’ve been using my car, but now it made me feel a dull ache in my chest, reminding me I’d soon be back to driving it again to school since I won’t be getting rides to school from Seth anymore. I tried to dismiss my thoughts, looking up instead on the looming white house in front of me. I looked down to check the piece of paper in my hand to make sure I got the right address. I’m pretty sure I did, because I recognized Warren’s van parked a few yards away. I found myself thinking back to the night before when I told him we should “break up.” He looked at me for the longest time, his face an unreadable mask before it broke into a small smile. “Oh, god, Alyssa and Lily are going to cut my balls.” I blinked in surprise at first, unable to come up with an appropriate reaction, and though I knew he was only joking, I couldn’t help the slight stab I felt at the thought of him worrying about his balls while I worried about my heart. “Your balls,” I echoed flatly. “No offense,” he said, his lips quirking into a small smile, “but I’m more worried about losing my balls than I am of you heartlessly dumping me, considering that I’m more… attached to them.” In spite of myself, I burst out laughing at the pun. “That was terrible.” “You laughed.” “Still.” “Anyway,” he said, letting his smile fade to reveal a more serious expression, “we’re calling the whole thing off.” I swallowed. “Yeah.” I looked away from his unreadable eyes and continued. “We only started this fake relationship because of Cedric in the first place. Now that I’m done with him, this whole thing should be too.” I fought the emotions trying to claw into my voice as I verbalized my thoughts. The only thing I could manage to do was pray he’d keep his promise about us staying the same, about being friends despite the fact that we’d “break up.” He placed a hand on the top of my head and ruffled my hair. “Yeah. It should be.” I couldn’t figure out what exactly he was feeling as he said these words, and I relied instead on the familiarity of this gesture to reassure myself that we were still the same people despite everything else. “So, you’re really done with Cedric?” he asked when he removed his hand. “I hope so.” “What do we tell everyone?” he said and from there, we tried to plan ahead. At the end of the night, he offered to stay until Mom got home, but I shook my head and refused. I wanted to call Hail and talk to her about the “breakup” as soon as possible. When I walked him out the door, he seemed almost reluctant to leave. “Friends?”he asked me, holding his arms out as he turned to me. I let out a sigh of relief as I all but rushed to accept his hug, burying my face in his chest and letting his warmth envelope me. “Friends,” I agreed.

Chapter 32 If I may put it bluntly: Seth was a crazy good dancer. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to beat all our asses at Just Dance because it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was “owning the game,” as Warren put it. It was after we’ve had a few beers that Warren started to make fun of Alyssa’s “horrible dancing” and she immediately challenged the guys to a dance-off. Soon enough, we were heading up the game room, talking trash against each other. I’d been avoiding Nicole for most of the night, so I was thankful when they suggested we should play girls against boys. God knows what would happen if Nicole and I ended up dancing at the same time again. I had also been avoiding Seth, in my own way. Whenever he caught me alone, I would immediately run to the others because I didn’t think I could handle facing him alone. Our conversations mostly consisted of distant remarks and polite favors; like passing the salad dressing or ice bucket. Nicole kind of hovered around Seth, always asking if he wanted another beer or whatever as she basically threw herself all over Seth. Screw it. Not only was I pissed off because of Nicole, but the fact that he used his pass when I asked him The Question was still nagging at me. I knew I didn’t have any right to be mad at him. His feelings were his own and I knew how hard it was to fully let go, but that didn’t stop me from feeling betrayed because he was so fucking confusing. One moment, I feel as though he harbored feelings for me too, and the next it’s like I’m nothing more than a “close friend.” And it hurt that he still loved Sarah. I knew I was being ridiculous, but it hurt, so I resorted to anger and my mood just went downhill from there. It didn’t help that Seth was a really good dancer, and that the best one on our side was none other than the Fuckabish. She sneered at me whenever I danced (see: flail around ridiculously) and lost and I had to physically restrain myself from walking over to where she was standing, which was conveniently somewhere around Seth, just so I could give her a piece of my mind. (And my mind was a pretty violent thing.) After beating Justin, who was thankfully and surprisingly worse than I was, I came back to the black beanbag chairs, panting and exhausted. Alyssa and Lily smiled at me and congratulated me on my “victory.” “You’re already better than Alyssa,” Lily commented as I drank from a bottle of cold water. “Hey!” Alyssa said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re supposed to give me words of encouragement, not bring me down. If Hail was here, that’s what she would have done.” Hail wanted to go with us today, but she was worried about leaving her Mom alone so she declined the offer. We promised to have another cookout soon when her Mom was better so she could join us. “Duuudes, it’s a couple song,” Justin yelled, demanding our attention as the TV screen flashed One Thing. Alyssa nudged me. “Oh my god, go dance with Seth.” I shook my head. “I just had a turn.” “I’ll dance with Seth,” Nicole said from the other side of the room, grabbing Seth by the arm and leading him in front of the sensor. “Nicole.” I could hear the venom in Lily’s voice as she gave her sister a warning. “What did I tell—”

Lol........ Was there a sin in it if Kyla could just try and let Seth knew about her feelings? Why can't she force Seth to split out all what happen between him & Sarah? Why don't she ask Cedric about all things behind their breaking up?

@Khola46 its nt like she hasn't tried her best 2 make seth talk abt sarah...but he's been keeping d details 2 himself...do u knw dat u will feel really bad if u let out ur feelings nd get a sarcastic response 4rm d oda person? Its normal 2 be sceptical abt emotional tinz like dis... Nd i dnt knw why we weren't told what made cedric break up with her..

@Tennie BuT I think there is no law that against TRYING... Though it look weird for a lady to approach a guy, but they do says a statement "WITHOUT VENTURE THERE COULD NEVER BE SUCCESS".. Lady should try to risk such thing sometimes..... I think you are right with "Seth keeping the secret to himself", like one joke I listened to :Seth is cronicaly stubborn, he is so sercasticaly cantagerous:.......

Chapter 33 Seth and Nicole had been gone for nearly an hour, and I found myself resorting to drinking in the hopes that it would drown out the image of them kissing. Alyssa refused to tell me more than what she had revealed so far, and while it was frustrating, I knew I couldn’t force her into telling me. It wasn’t her place to tell. Everyone offered to talk to me about the whole Seth fiasco, but I declined until they reluctantly backed off. Lily tried calling Nicole’s cell, but the Fuckabish wasn’t answering, and I figured she was probably busy locking lips with Seth. I didn’t think I could stomach facing Seth once he returns, so I told everyone that I was going to just head home, apologizing for ruining the whole night. Needless to say, before I could even dash off, Alyssa and Lily were already pulling me back to one of the foldable seats around the grill, refusing to let me go home when I was both intoxicated and pissed off. How could I have fallen for him in the first place? Stupid. I continued to drink, trying to get to that puke-pass-out state of drunkenness, hoping it would keep my mind off everything. Why did everything have to be so difficult? I screwed up a lot and have had my fair share of the blame, and I knew that I couldn’t help myself from being a bitch, but did he really have to run off like that? It was like he knew exactly what would really hurt me. I was just about to grab another bottle of beer from the cooler when a hand shot out to grab my wrist. I looked up. “That’s enough,” Seth said, eyes dark and hooded in the absence of light. Shadows fell across his face and I couldn’t make out his expression, but the coldness in his voice was enough to tell me that he was still mad. I tried to snatch my wrist back, but he didn’t let go, his grip surprisingly strong and firm. In fact, he was kind of hurting me a bit. He pried the beer from my hand and continued to hold me in his death grip. I tried to yank my hand away again. “You’re not the boss of me.” His grip tightened. “You’re drunk.” “I’m not.” I couldn’t keep myself from wincing when his grip tightened once more. Almost as if I’d burned him, his fingers snapped open. He took a step back, eyes wide, and I pulled my wrist to my chest, trying to rub some feeling back into it with my other hand. It was the first time he ever let himself physically hurt me, and I couldn’t help but feel wary, as if a part of me was breaking inside as well. “Shit. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t—” He lifted a hand, reaching for my wrist as if to inspect it. I flinched. His hand froze, hovering uncertainly in the distance between us, and he suddenly seemed so far away. Or maybe he alwayshad been. He dropped his hand to the side. Softly, he said, “Does it hurt?” I didn’t have to say yes for him to know the answer. He didn’t take a step closer, as if the space between us was suddenly impossible to cross, and at that moment, it felt like it really was. I swallowed, trying to ignore the dull ache in my wrist. “Sorry,” he said quietly, playing with a blade of grass with the toe of his shoe.

Chapter 34 The rumors of our breakup had travelled quickly around the school, each one more ridiculous than the other. I could feel the stares following me as I made my way through the hallways without Seth’s arm slung over my shoulder or him meeting me at my locker. The last time I’d seen Seth was right before he drove off from Lily’s, after that last conversation of ours. I hadn’t been crying then, feeling oddly detached to the world and my feelings. It was like I was hardly bothered by the way I shivered in the chill of the night and I hadn’t moved until I felt Alyssa’s hand on my shoulder. All I wanted was to go home and curl up in my room, and Warren offered to drive me using my car. Halfway home, however, Hail had called, saying Alyssa told her about what happened and suggested I should stay the night at hers. I took up on the suggestion and when we got there, Hail was already prepared with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a DVD of 50 First Dates already waiting for me. I thanked Warren and he got back to Lily’s with a cab and I pretty much spent the night holed up with Hail in her bedroom, watching one of my favorite movies of all time. Halfway through the movie, I began to tell her what happened. When I was done speaking, she reached for my hand. “Hey.” I looked up at her. “I don’t think he wanted this to happen, either,” she said. She’d always been level-headed when it came to stuff like this, so I was glad she offered the impromptu sleepover. “From the looks of it, he’s only doing what he thinks is right. He’s afraid.” “Of what?” I shook my head, feeling the bitterness clawing at my throat. “Getting hurt?” “Of hurting you.” That shut me up. I allowed myself to think of the roles in reverse. I wouldn’t have wanted to start anything with him if I still hadn’t worked it out with Cedric. And of course, this led me to the realization that I had been the irrational one, jumping into telling Seth my feelings for him when it was clear neither of us were ready for anything. It also led me to think that I still had to talk to Cedric, despite the way Friday had gone. It was ridiculous how I agreed to drop the topic, because obviously, I shouldn’t have. I still had to talk it out with him, to eradicate the issue completely, because running away from it would never solve anything. At lunchtime, Hail and I decided to meet in the courtyard to plan an appropriate course of action for the time being. “So,” Hail said in lieu of a hello, “the worst one I heard so far has something to do with a homosexual wrestler, a drunk pianist in a bar, some tequila shots and you getting into a fight with a masked matador.” “What?” I wrinkled my nose. “All of those in one breakup rumor?” She nodded solemnly, like it was truly something worth being sad about. “The wonders of high school.” The black eye Nicole had given me had intensified the ridiculousness of the rumors. Earlier this morning, the one I heard of had something to do with me breaking up with Seth or being an abusive boyfriend. How it had morphed into other ridiculous stories was beyond my understanding. “Do we sit with them at lunch or...” she trailed off uncertainly, in a way that suggested she would go with any decision I come up with.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” I said. She nodded. “Maybe.” I gave her a grateful look because I knew she was the only one keeping me together when I was ready to burst at the seams. We entered the cafeteria, deflecting yet another round of curious students asking questions about whether or not the rumors were true. Which rumors, I had no idea. In spite of myself, my eyes automatically tried to find Seth’s when we stepped into the cafeteria. My gaze swept over the usual cacophony of the large hall and landed on what had been our table for the past few weeks. Everyone except Seth was there. I felt relieved, for some reason, because I wasn’t sure how I would manage if I saw him and his blue eyes and his grin and every single fucking thing that made him him. Alyssa caught me looking over as I stood in line with a tray in hand, her eyes asking me a silent question. I gave her an apologetic smile and ever so slightly shook my head. I hoped she understood I had nothing against them, and that I hoped we all could still be friends despite everything else. The line moved quickly while Hail was telling me about another rumor she had heard that for some reason involved some guy named Jeff. I was acutely aware of the fact that Seth hadn’t made an appearance yet, and something about this made me regret what had happened to the easy relationship between us. It was, however, inevitable in a way. Was I angry at him? Yes. Was I sad? Yes. Did I hate him? Possibly. Did I miss him? Yes, motherfucking yes. The lines between each emotion blurred together and it was difficult to pinpoint exactly where I should stand. All I knew was that he was right: He wasn’t ready and neither was I. I was chasing a form of happiness that involved using him as a distraction, and he had done the exact opposite. He turned away, choosing instead to hurt us both now while the damage wasn’t as big as it would have been if things went my way. He was only saving us both from a relationship that could easily crumble because of our pasts. Hail reached over to squeeze my hand when she noticed I’d gone quiet. “It will be fine. You’ll be fine in no time.” I swallowed and looked down at my food. “I know.” She was about to say something when people suddenly began shooting up their seats, bolting out of the cafeteria. Curiosity spread like wildfire, making more and more people stand up to find out what the commotion was all about. I exchanged a look with her. She was looking back with a slightly curious expression. “You think Jack and Finn are here for people to react like that?” Not getting the reference, I just shrugged. “Want to check it out?” she asked me. I wasn’t in the mood to make my way through the thick throng of nosy students, despite my curiosity, so I told her I’d just stay here. “I’ll go see what’s happening,” Hail said and stood up. When she was gone, I let myself just sit there, among a few others who were surprisingly not curious enough to prioritize that over food. Not a minute later, Hail was back, running frantically until she reached our table.

A feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach when I saw the panic in her eyes. Almost automatically, I stood up from my seat. “What’s wrong?” Hail, who used at least five SAT vocabulary words in every conversation, was having trouble stringing a few words to form a sentence. “Punch... Fight... Cedric...” “Cedric’s in a fight?” My heart leapt to my throat. “With Seth,” she added, and before I knew it, I was already sprinting. I had to fight my way through the onlookers who circled what I assumed was the fight. Adrenaline was the only thing that made me dive in through the crowd, elbows ready to assault anyone who wouldn’t move to give me way. I lost Hail somewhere after the seventh person I elbowed in the ribs, but I kept going until I reached the innermost circle, just in time to see Cedric swing his fist at Seth’s face. I hadn’t even realized that I was screaming for them to stop until I stepped out of the circle of onlookers. Despite this, the fist connected with its target, the momentum having already been set. “Stop!” I said again when Seth recovered from the blow, unsteady but poised to retaliate. “Seth, stop!” He did, finally spotting me, and he took a step back, bringing a hand to his jaw. I could almost already see the bruises trying to establish their territories on his face. Cedric continued to glare at Seth. “You’re a fucking asshole.” “You’re one to talk,” Seth spat back. “That’s enough,” I said before the fight could resume. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, but I struggled to keep my voice even. “Enough.” I hadn’t even noticed how the circle of students around had dissolved until I felt Hail’s hand on my shoulder. When I looked around, Warren and the rest were trying to make the students leave before a member of the faculty could come. Seth didn’t dare a glance at me. He just stood there, eyes fixed on the ground. I forced myself to speak. “What happened?” Cedric surprised me by reaching for me, his bloody knuckles visible as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. I couldn’t help but wince at the contact. It was the same spot that Seth had bruised last night. Cedric looked at me alarmingly and released his hand, studying the yellowish area in my skin. A renewed form of anger made him start for Seth again, but I grabbed his arm quickly. “Stop it. Stop.” I tugged at his arm and tried to pull him away. Seth raised his gaze, and it landed somewhere on my hands against Cedric’s skin. I swallowed, looking away from him. “Come on,” I told Cedric. He stood his ground for a moment, but when Alyssa came in a fit of worry and OMGs, immediately examining Seth’s face, Cedric finally let himself move.. I sent Seth one last look, waiting for anything--anything at all--but not once did our eyes meet. --- “Sorry,” I said when Cedric winced for the third time. It was ironic how three days ago, we were in a slightly similar situation, except this time, the roles were reversed. We were both quiet as I tried to clean his injuries with a wet handkerchief.

The sight of blood had always freaked Hail out (which kind of made me wonder how she dealt with her period), so we all decided she should just get something for us to eat and drink. I froze when he reached up and let his fingertips skim the area around my eye. My hands stopped moving, refusing to work until he dropped his hand. “Are the rumors true?” he said, not quite looking into my eyes. “Which one?” I asked him with an eye-roll. “Did he give you that black eye?” I shook my head almost immediately. “No, Cedric. It wasn’t like that.” He looked at me, wordlessly waiting for me to elaborate. “We were playing Just Dance and some girl accidentally hit me.” At this, his eyebrows shot up. “You... danced?” I could tell he was fighting a smile, a conflict of confusion and amusement and doubt clouding his warm brown eyes. “What?” I asked him, blushing in spite of myself. “ It was just a game.” He looked me in the eye. “If you’re trying to cover for that bastard, please don’t.” “I’m telling the truth,” I said. He tucked loose strands of my hair behind my ear with his hand, his thumb slightly grazing the bruise once more. “I’m just making sure.” “I’m not lying,” I insisted. “And I’ll have you know I wasn’t the worst dancer.” At this, his lips twitched into a small smile. “Now I really think you’re lying.” “Hey!” I said indignantly. “You don’t think I can--” “I’m just kidding,” he interjected quickly, a soft laugh escaping his lips. He removed his hand but held my wrist instead. Seth’s grip must have been harder than I thought at first, because there was a slight bruise that formed near the base of my thumb. “What about this?” I looked away. His shoulders tensed. “Kyla, did he...” “He didn’t mean to,” I said. “Shit.” He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, almost as if he was trying to restrain himself. “That bastard —” “He didn’t mean to,” I pressed more firmly. “Trust me.” His worry was obvious, lining his features and immediately sending a tidal wave of mixed emotions surging through me. I bit my lower lip, gently dabbing the wet cloth on the cut under his eye. Trying my best not look at him, I said, “Why did you fight him?” “How can I not?” “Cedric.” I let out a deep breath, dropping my gaze as I shook my head. “You said I should let you go. And I’m trying, but you can’t do this and tell me to forget you.” His eyes bore into mine. He was looking more and more conflicted with each second that ticked by. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, placing one hand on his forehead. “I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I can’t be who I should have been for you.” His fingers traced the outline of the discoloration on my wrist. I looked at him, studying the slight crease in his eyebrows as he wordlessly let his touch say the unspoken words between us, and I knew he was blaming himself for my pain.

ooppsyyy.....buh wat abt the girl he never notice

I can't believe this.. So, Kyla is now chosen Cedric on Seth..... What A World. Why would Cedric leave her if he realy love her?? Now he(Cedric) is doing what a yaba-left patience would do(fighting Seth with or without reason)... Is he(Cedric) jealous or protecting her when he had made her his ex?....... SHIT

Guys am through with the construction of my blog... Pls visit and read some series https://shaxeeng.wordpress.com/2015/03/29/the-bad-boy-stole-my-bra/

His touch was so familiar, so fucking familiar, that it was so hard to understand how we’d been reduced to this. “When I heard about the breakup, I just…” He shook his head and slowly lifted his brown eyes to mine. “I know I hurt you. And I’m a fucking hypocrite for being pissed at Seth, but I couldn’t stand the idea of him hurting you.” I was done with cleaning the wounds on his face, so I grabbed his hand, removing my wrist from his gentle grip so I could tend to his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m sorry for hurting you and leaving and being weak and for being a confusing piece of shit who can’t even stay away properly.” “And for not believing in my awesome dancing skills?” I said, knowing for sure that I wouldn’t be able to speak to him if I took his words seriously. His brows furrowed, but a smile appeared on his face. “Okay, I’m deeply sorry about that too.” “You should be,” I said. “I kicked ass.” “Please tell me you don’t mean that literally,” he said with an amused smile. “Shut up,” I said and playfully punched his shoulder, immediately hoping Seth hadn’t actually landed a punch there earlier as well. I was relieved to find that Cedric just chuckled. I frowned at his injured knuckles. Cedric had never been the type to get into fights. He was a pacifist, and the thought that he had willingly let himself get into something like this made my heart reach out to him. As gently as I could, I dabbed the wet handkerchief on the small cuts on his knuckles, doing my best not to hurt him. “Why are you helping me?” he said. Puzzled, I looked up at him. “What kind of question is that?” “Why me? Why not… him?” I let out a small laugh. “As you might have heard, Seth and I aren’t exactly on good terms at the moment.” “So are we.” I hadn’t realized our faces were only just inches apart until then and the solemn expression on his face was almost enough to make me reconsider all my thoughts about my feelings for Seth and Cedric. But I knew I shouldn’t, so I looked away. There was no denying that I had feelings for Seth, and now, as my heart wavered at Cedric’s mere presence, it was becoming increasingly clear that Seth was right when he chose to walk away from our feelings. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look at him. “I need to know why you broke up with me,” I told him. “I don’t care if it changes anything or whatever. I need to understand what happened, because I can’t fully move on until I do.” There was a charged silence between us. I couldn’t read whatever was going on in his thoughts, and it was difficult to align the pieces of our past and present when so much has changed already. “We can’t run away from this forever,” I murmured. He didn’t say anything for a long while and the only sound in the room was tick-tock of the wall clock hanging at the back of the classroom. After what felt like forever, he shifted and heaved a deep sigh. “Not here.” My eyes snapped to his. “What?” “After school.” “You’ll tell me?” “I promise.” “Later, after school,” I repeated, unable to believe that he had finally said yes. “Agreed?” He managed an exhausted smile. “Agreed.”

Chapter 35 Are you all right? I contemplated on hitting send as I stared at Seth’s number on the contact list, but I didn’t. All it would have taken was one tap, but the message stayed there, unsent and saved in the drafts folder, and for the rest of the day, I felt awful about it. Seth had been a constant presence around me for the past few weeks and now, I was finding it hard to ease back into a normal routine that didn’t involve him. I couldn’t go back to my life pre-Seth, because I was different now and it was hard to figure out how this post-Seth phase worked. People have been staring at me all day, sending me a variety of looks —apologetic, curious, victorious. I tried to ignore them all, telling myself that all I had to do was go through this day, and by the end of it, I would finally know the answer behind the biggest question mark in my life. So I tuned everything out and tried to focus on the lessons, forcing myself not to think of either Cedric or Seth (a task which was proving to be nearly impossible). All through the day, I could feel the weight of that unsent message on my phone, dragging me down and reminding me of everything that had gone wrong between me and Seth. After my last class, I went straight to the library, where Cedric and I agreed to meet. He wasn’t there yet and I found myself composing another message to Seth. I kind of fucking miss you. Unsent. I took a deep breath and locked my phone. I wasn’t even writing the messages for him at all. They were for me, a way to deal with the fact that I couldn’t talk to him and this was the closest thing I could get to telling him. When my phone buzzed, I nearly jumped. My first thought was that it was Seth, but it was only Cedric texting to me know he was going to be around ten minutes late because of some work he had to finish for a groupwork. Thinking I might as well use the extra ten minutes he’d given me, I took out a pen and paper to attempt to write something for the contest. The deadline was looming closer, but I still couldn’t find anything I wanted to write about. I tried, quite a lot of times, but only ended up with messy first paragraphs and some gibberish that were immediately deleted from my computer or torn from my notebook, crumpled and thrown away. I took my earphones from my bag and plugged them on, playing my music on shuffle. It was almost ironic, really, how the first track that played was The Scientist by Coldplay. It was like the lyrics themselves were speaking what I was feeling at the moment. The words came flooding into my brain as the music picked up and before I knew it, I was already writing on a piece of slightly creased paper. Do you remember, Romeo? How it used to feel as if the world revolved around her, How the sun seemed dim to the twinkle in her eyes, How her smile was the thing that made you open your eyes each morning. Remember, Romeo? How much it hurt when she walked out, Her parting words like shattered glass, Marking cuts upon your heart.

Remember, Romeo? How difficult it is to forget that one last kiss, How stupid it is to miss the feel of her hand upon yours, How pathetic every breath feels without her and you wish, you wish, you wish until you bleed. But do you remember, Romeo? There are millions of Juliets out there, There are others who can show you, That tomorrow’s promises remain to be more beautiful than yesterday’s shadows. When I finished writing, I stared at the words and felt almost empty. I didn’t even know why I chose to write this down. It wasn’t like I had any intention of letting Seth read it, and I was also acutely aware of the fact that I couldn’t use this for the contest because I was supposed to write in prose. With a sigh, I looked down at the paper and added: Remember, please, Romeo. I could be a Juliet too. “Hey.” I looked up and saw Cedric. Instinctively, I scrambled to hide the piece of paper with the poem, shoving it into my bag along with the rest of my stuff. “Come on,” he said. I couldn’t read his blank expression, but a certain note of heaviness was tangible in the air. Whatever he was about to tell me, it was something he would rather not. I picked my bag up and stood up. “Where to?” He managed to give me a small smile. “Let’s grab some fries. My treat.” On our way to the parking lot, I found myself examining his face and the bruises he got. There was a slight cut on his upper lip and a number of bruises across his face. “What?” he said when he caught me staring. I averted my gaze and looked straight ahead, where I could already see my car parked several cars away from his. “I just realized it’s like we’re the ones who got in a fight, what with my black eye and your bruises.” He let out a small laugh. “Like I would ever hit you.” “I could take you,” I said. “I bet.” He sent me a sideways glance and tried a grin. He winced almost immediately as he brought a hand to the cut on his lip. “Hurts like fuck.” “You should have thought of that before you decided to fight him,” I remarked. We reached my car and both of us paused, momentarily looking at each other uncertainly before I finally suggested we should just meet at Parker’s, which was incidentally the diner we went to on our first date as a couple. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you there.” For a moment, he just stood there, looking at me like he was searching something on my face. I waited for him to say anything, but all he said was, “Drive safe.” I mumbled back the same thing and fumbled for the keys as he started to walk to his car. To be perfectly honest, I wanted to use the fifteen-minute drive to collect my thoughts, to prepare myself for whatever was about to come. The idea of it scared me and I suddenly wasn’t sure if I still wanted to know, but I owed this to myself, so I suppressed my fear of the unknown and the possible implications of whatever lay ahead.

I was acutely aware of the fact that I could see Cedric’s car just a few meters away from my car as we drove, and a thought struck me then. Perhaps this described our relationship now; we were nothing but two cars travelling the same road in different journeys. And maybe I was okay with that, so I tore my gaze from his car and faced forward, watching as the road disappeared beneath the car —nothing but paths already crossed—and focused only on what lay ahead. --- The familiar jingling of the overhead bell when Cedric pushed the door open made me think back to our first date, so I found myself saying, “Remember how I ended up spilling coke all over you back then?” He laughed. “You ruined my only button-up shirt.” “Hey, didn’t I do you a favor?” I said defensively, remembering how he kept complaining because he was basically harassed by Hail into wearing it. “Because dumping your drink on me on our first date was very thoughtful of you,” he mused. I made a face. “I was nervous.” “So was I. God, I was so nervous.” He stopped at a booth and gestured for me to sit. Any awkwardness that would have existed between us was quickly eradicated by the waitress. She was quick on her feet as she handed a menu to us. We agreed to share a plate barbecue-flavored fries and ordered ourselves some milkshakes. The mention of milkshakes also brought up another memory of another date, and we both brought it up at exactly the same time, saying “Remember when” at the same time. I raised an eyebrow and he met my eyes with an amused smile. Maybe this could work, I thought to myself. Maybe we could still be friends. Like Alyssa and Warren, who talked about their past like it didn’t bother them at all. When our orders arrived, we were already immersed in a conversation about that one time when some waitress screwed up our orders at the Xin Zhao and Cedric ended up having some kind of allergic reaction. “God, that was embarrassing,” he said, looking like he was ready to bury himself alive. “It was pretty cute,” I offered, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “You were really red.” “Never again,” he said with a shake of his head, “never again, I tell you.” Almost as if we both sensed the need to talk about the main reason why we were here in the first place, we both shut up and stayed silent, looking uncertainly at each other. I decided to stay quiet and just stare at him, daring him to bring it up first. He did. With a sigh, he said, “I don’t know where to begin.” To his credit, I didn’t either. I was painfully aware of the fact that this conversation wasn’t going to be easy. We were baring our wounds for the other to see. They were still bleeding, but the only way for them to heal was to talk. “How long,” I finally said, “have you been thinking of dumping me before you actually did?” “Two weeks.” I cringed. “Two weeks and I never saw it coming at all.”

Guys don't forget to visit my blog and read the on going series namely MY DAIRY https://shaxeeng.wordpress.com/2015/03/29/dear-diary-episode-1/

It about time Cedric said all what made him break the relationship, afterall he has nothing to lose nor gain after saying it... I just hope it wasn't something that could against Seth... For the confusion, though I didn't know how Kyla get that black-face,but Kyla had break up with Seth before they went to that night-something sha,and it was there that Kyla get a little bruise on her wrist when Seth hold her tight.......

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. I knew this didn’t matter, not anymore, so I tried my best not to dwell on it. “Did you plan to do it like that?” I asked him. “On your birthday.” The plate of fries lay mostly untouched on the table so I felt compelled to reach for some and at least pretend this whole conversation wasn’t almost breaking me in half. He nodded. “Not at first,” he said. “I didn’t—I couldn’t even make myself think of breaking up with you, so none of it was really planned.” He dropped his gaze on the white table that lay between us. It seemed bigger than it really was.. “The thought had been in my mind for two weeks, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it, so when it happened, it just did.” “Do you... do you regret it?” He lifted his eyes to mine and, quietly, he said, “Every day.” I took in a sharp breath. The weight of his reply settled over me like a thick blanket and I realized, perhaps for the first time, that maybe he really meant it when he said the reason behind our breakup wasn’t as simple as I thought it was. “I force myself not to regret it,” he continued. “And I have to constantly remind myself it’s for the best.” I dared a glance at him and if the stiffness in his shoulders was any indication, this must be hard for him to. All this time, I thought he had walked away unscathed. It was jarring to hear him speak as though the breakup had affected him just as much as it affected me. “When Hail called me that night to fetch you from the party, and I saw you acting like that, knowing it was my fault, I wanted so badly to take you back.” “Then why didn’t you?” I snapped before I could stop myself. “I couldn’t. I forced myself to stay away,” he said, “but it was difficult. It was so fucking difficult to stay away, Kyla. The parties, the new clothes, the new friends.” He shook his head, never once looking away from me. “You changed, and it was so difficult to watch from a distance when all I wanted was to be part of this new life of yours.” What he didn’t know was that he was part of it. He had always been part of my life and there was no way for me to fully remove him. He was there in my thoughts and in the things I’d chosen to do. He was always there. “I loved you, Kyla,” he said. “I still do.” My eyes snapped to his. I wasn’t sure if I heard him right or if I’d somehow imagined the whole exchange. I searched his face, looking for signs that he was only lying, but his brown eyes held mine with a sincerity that took my breath away. “Every day,” he said, “I keep reminding myself that I have to stay away; that I have to let go and leave, even if it makes me feel miserable because I still fucking love you.” Everything was so goddamned tangled. My feelings, his feelings, the way my heart seemed to long for two vastly different things. Everything was a fucking mess and none of it made sense. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words were lost on my throat. “You told me you like him,” he said, shielding his eyes from mine. “And I was finally starting to let go—to really try to let go—knowing that you were happy and you were fine and you were better off without me, but now you broke up and I’m fucking back to square one.”

The look on his face nearly brought me to tears. There was no room for pretense in this suffocating air of what ifs and should have beens between us, and suddenly, I knew I had to tell him. “Cedric,” I finally said, “we were never really going out.” --- It took what felt like an hour to explain the whole situation with Seth with him, but when I looked at the wall clock that had been hanging here since forever, it had only been twenty minutes. When I was done, he just sat there and stared at the table for a really long time. “I’m sorry,” I found myself saying for the seventh time. He brought a hand to his forehead and refused to look at me, as if he was trying to process the information. Both of us sat in silence, suspended in time as we hung on unsaid words, but I felt like I could no longer hold on. “Cedric,” I finally said. He looked up at me. “I need to know why we broke up,” I told him, “because I can’t let go of—of—of this when I have no idea what went wrong.” His eyes wavered, but he struggled to keep his face blank. “Please.” He held my unrelenting stare. He opened his mouth and I held my breath. When he finally answered, his voice was nothing but a mere murmur. “It’s leukemia.”

Chapter 36 I was transported back to time, staring at that goddamn white door in that goddamn hospital, knowing there was nothing I could do but wait and hope my dad’s heart would still be beating when I go in. And I realized, looking into Cedric’s brown eyes as mine started to water, that this was exactly the reason why he broke up with me. “I’m going to start chemo over holiday break,” he added quietly as if to confirm what he had just told me. “I’m under strict meds right now. I’ve undergone quite a number of blood transfusions and I have weekly checkups to make sure...” he trailed off, swallowed, and struggled to continue, “That I’m not getting worse.” He spoke in a steady voice, like he wasn’t discussing something that was starting to take over his life. He was trying not to show weakness, I realized, as I took in his impassive face, and it was this that finally made me snap into a string of No, no, no, you’re shitting me, no, no, you can’t be fucking serious over and over as tears began to obscure my vision. His words continued to sink in, like an anchor weighing me down all the way to the sea floor, and I couldn’t see anything but the image of my dad lying in that hospital bed. Except this time, it was Cedric’s almost lifeless body lying against the white sheets. I was beginning to gasp for air and Cedric was quick on his feet. He pulled me up, burying my face in his chest and as he wrapped his arms around me. It was like he wanted to hide me from the monsters lurking around us, but we both knew that the realmonster was inside him and hiding from it would never make it go away for sure. “Let’s take a walk,” he said as he led me out the diner. If people were looking, I neither knew nor cared. I let him lead me out to the dimly lit parking lot, and once we were there, he let go of me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his indifferent expression finally breaking away to reveal his own pain beneath the mask he, too, had been wearing this whole time. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kyla, I’m sorry.” My heart was breaking to pieces, harder than it had ever done before. I stepped closer and wrapped my hands around his waist, closing whatever distance there was between us, knowing it wouldn’t make the pain go away, but still trying, because what else was I supposed to do? He continued to apologize, murmuring sorry again and again, again and again, until his voice began to break so much it was hard to understand what he was saying. “It will be all right,” I said, more to reassure myself than him. I tightened my hug around him, letting my warmth be his, hoping it was enough to let him know I was here and I wasn’t going anywhere. “I wanted you to hate me,” he said through his own tears, releasing me but not entirely letting go. “I wanted you to despise me, to forget me, to make sure you wouldn’t be anywhere near me when it gets worse.” “Cedric, I would never—” “I wanted you to leave and never look back,” he cut me off, his voice growing firmer—harsher. “It was hard, it was so fucking hard, to watch you walk hand in hand with Seth, seeing some guy who isn’t me and is never going to be me again kiss you, knowing you were better off that way, but I had to.” “Why didn’t you just tell me?” I asked him, not even bothering you wipe the endless stream of tears running down my face. “Didn’t it occur to you that I would have chosen to stay and—”

“That’s exactly why I left!” He took a deep, shaky breath and furiously wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “I knew you would have stayed, that you would never leave, even if I tell you to.” “What else would I have done?” I snapped. We both paused at my outburst. We both stood there, looking at each other’s tear-streaked face, feeling like we were breaking in a tiny million pieces with every ragged breath. It felt as though all the layers we put around ourselves were unraveling and we were spinning back to the night he ended everything between us. After all the steps we’d taken, we wound up here and it was cruel to think of all the time we wasted travelling away from each other only to find ourselves rooted in this moment. We both stood there in the cold night air, staring at each other as we let all the words we’d said and even the ones we hadn’t to sink in. When he spoke again, his voice was nothing but a slight murmur. “I can’t let you go through the same thing twice.” “That’s not your choice,” I said. “You know that was never your choice.” “You don’t deserve to go through this again,” he said. “If I knew, eight years ago, that I would end up like this, I never would have wanted to be a part of your life.” “But you are a part of it now,” I snapped, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He blinked thrice and looked up, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. Eight years ago, he was the boy who helped get over my father’s death. Now, he was the guy who broke my heart just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the same pain again. He was the guy who broke his own heart more than he had broken mine when he said the words “I think we should break up.” I swallowed back a sob and tried to be stronger, to be that girl who didn’t need to be protected from this, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t care. I took his hands in mine, covering his cold fingers with my cold fingers, wishing his broken heart would sense my broken heart, letting his tears and my tears fall in the same place. “You’ll get better,” I whispered to him. “Tell me you’ll get better.” “Kyla, I can’t....” “Tell me you’ll get better.” He let out a strangled noise and the sound was so overwhelmin I had to swallow back a sob of my own. Before I knew it, I was already rising on my tiptoes, softly murmuring, “Who said you would never be that guy again?” Then I pressed my lips against his. --- Cedric kissed me back. He pulled me closer as he brought his hands to my face. Our lips moved slowly at first, gently, and I could taste his tears and feel his fears, and everything that ever happened between us became irrelevant. I let one hand rest on his collarbone and the other sought out a familiar spot at the back of his neck. He took in a sharp breath at the contact, and I knew he must thought back to all those times I’d placed my hand there. The kiss grew deeper as he buried his hands in my hair. He let his fingertips trail lightly against my scalp and I felt the goosebumps rise at the back of my neck. Our tongues met, moving tentatively at first before settling into a dance that we both knew by heart.

Aaaaw!!!. Dis part is so so emotional (sobs), so Cedric went 2ru all of d@ pain jst so he'ld ease ur pain, its such a pity he's dieing. I feel 4 u my guy.

hmmmmmm....... I'm neither crying nor laughing. what should I call that? I felt bad for Cedric, but he shouldn't have gone to the extent of breaking the relationship, because he had let fear took upon his feelings for Kyla.... Well........ Shaxee & God knows best.

Crying<> I really feel for Cedric cos he is d Heartbroken Heartbreaker! Sobbing

@pamelacham i tink u'r rite,cos d picture is clear now,cedric is d hrtbroken heartbreaker,mehn dis episode touch me oo,i no go lie

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah shaxee!!,ur story dey make my head turn

Hmmmmm,dis story is so heart touching,feel lyk crying 4 dem,welldone @ShaXee

I feel his pain nd reasons nw.... He couldnt jez tell her dat he was also dieing... He had 2 break his own heart by breaking up with kyla...nd dereby turning into a heartbreaker.... How i wish......

But then he pulled away. He took a staggering step back and it felt as though the spell had been broken. Disoriented, I looked at him searchingly, and when I couldn’t find the answers I was looking for, I lifted a hand to reach for him. “Don’t.” My hand froze. He shook his head, shielding his eyes from me. “Let’s not do this.” I let my hand drop to my side. I tried to come up with words, but it was hard enough to make sense of what he had just said to do so. I could feel something shifting between us, and it was scaring me, because wherever it was leading us, it was going to be somewhere we’d never been before. He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Giving me a worn smile, he said, “You don’t love me anymore.” “I do,” I said, willing my voice to come out strong. There was silence first, as if he was thinking about this, then he shook his head. “Not in the same way. Not anymore.” “But—” “Please.” His voice broke and he dropped his gaze. “Don’t… don’t force yourself to love me back just because I’m sick.” I lifted a foot in an attempt to step closer, but he stopped me with a shake of his head. Feelings were changing and things were shifting, putting everything that had happened between us under a spectrum of new colors. He gave me another sad smile. It was fleeting but it lingered long after it disappeared. “I haven’t been your best friend for the past eight years for nothing.” He spoke quietly but the weight of his words made it seem otherwise. “I know you and I know it is because of that.” I looked down at my fingers. I contemplated this for a few seconds, thinking hard and forcing my brain to work and sort these emotions out. Finally, I said, “A lot of things have changed.” I looked up at him and swallowed. “I’m sorry.” “Yeah,” he replied quietly. “I am, too.” There it was. A final break. An acknowledgement that we were over for good. Maybe if he had told me earlier, things would have gone completely differently. If we never broke up and he had just chosen to tell me, I would still be completely and utterly in love with him. Things had changed, and they were still changing, because even though he was sick, the world would continue to move on. I had inevitably left him when I should have stayed; when I should have forced him into telling me what had gone wrong from the very start. If only I hadn’t ran from the truth back then. If only I had been stronger. I knew a part of me would always regret it. I knew that ten years from now, I would still think of the various what ifs between us, and there was nothing I could do to change that because that was how it was supposed to work. He was right.

I still loved him, but not in the same way that I used to, and this time, I would stay, so I lifted my eyes to his and said, “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” “I was hoping you’d walk away,” he said, but when I tried to step closer, he let me. He opened his arms and I fell right into them as he wrapped me in a tight embrace. It was such a simple gesture, nothing but a small step forward that closed the gap between us, but it was so much more than just that. --- Cedric had Acute Myeloid Leukemia. He found out about the week before our breakup. The month before that, he was already diagnosed with anemia, but they later found out it was myelodysplastic syndrome. Cedric tried to explain everything to me in a way that would help me understand it better, switching medical terms with simple ones, but it was still hard to grasp everything. The myelodysplasia, he said, was discovered a little too late and had already evolved into AML not long after he was diagnosed with it. So he broke up with me. “It wasn’t an easy decision to make,” he told me while we walked around the park, an hour after leaving Parker’s. “Many times, I wanted to just tell you, to give up and let myself be selfish, but when I think of you and your dad...” We had been walking around for a while, trying to talk about anything but the cancer, but it was lurking somewhere at the back of our minds. It was hard not to talk about something so big, something that had ruined and kept us apart. I asked him how bad it was, and he replied with a vague “Don’t worry.” He said it in a way that made it clear that he didn’t want to dwell on the topic, but I kept thinking back to Dad all those years ago; how Mom had kept most of the details from me and only decided to tell me when there was only little hope left. This time, I had to know, so even though it was difficult, I pressed on and asked again, just as we had stopped walking under one of the lampposts circling the park. He let out a defeated sigh before saying, “Leukemia that develops from myelodysplasia is usually resistant to treatment.” I released a soft whistle and closed my eyes, as if shutting down one of my senses was going to lessen the pain from the words he had just told me. It didn’t. “You don’t seem sick,” I told him when I reopened my eyes. “You haven’t been around me much.” That was when I did notice the little things—like how he shivered despite his thick jacket o how we had to stop walking a lot of times and sit on one of the benches whenever he was short of breath. With a start, my eyes snapped to his. “Fuck, Ced, what about the fight? Shit. Shit, you fucking idiot —” “I’ll be fine,” he said. I wasn’t sure when, exactly, I began to cry all over again, or when I decided to stop. The only thing I was sure of, however, was that I missed the feeling of his arms around me and the sound of his voice and the way would wrap me in a one-arm hug. And now that it was all back, and cancer or no cancer, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Have you told Seth about dinner this Saturday?” Mom asked me over some kind of reality show on the TV that neither of us was actually watching. I was curled up on the sofa, reading one of Dad’s old books and she was on the smaller sofa, sipping a cup of coffee as she examined a new client’s file. Yesterday, when I came home during lunchtime from my sleepover with Hail, she saw my black eye and freaked out, fussing over me in any way possible. I had to convince her that I got it from an accident again and again, but I doubt she actually believed it completely. Now, I looked up at her, feeling slightly guilty for not remembering what was up on Saturday. “Dinner with Norman,” she explained when she saw the look on my face. Now that she had mentioned it, I realized she did tell me about it sometime last week, but in light of recent events, I had completely forgotten about it. I took note of the page I was reading and snapped the book shut, setting it on the glass table in front of us. “Mom.” She looked at me as if she was bracing herself, like she expected me to tell her I didn’t want to meet Norman or something similar to that. But it wasn’t anything like that. Detaching myself from the words, I said, “Seth and I broke up over the weekend.” She stared at me in stunned silence. She sat back, raising an eyebrow in a curious expression, as she stared at me. “What happened?” I swallowed, much too aware of her gaze on me. “Things didn’t work out.” She exhaled, standing up to sit next to me. To say I was surprised when she pulled me closer for a hug would be an understatement. “Oh, sweetie.” She placed a hand on my head, stroking my hair in a surprisingly comforting gesture. “Are you okay?” I lifted my shoulders in a half- hearted shrug. “I think so.” She let out another deep breath. “I know you like him a lot, Ky.” I found myself nodding, letting myself be comforted by her touch and words, remembering the feeling of having her cheer me up just like she used to when I was much, much younger. “Yeah,” I confessed, “yeah, I do.” --- Hail and I were back to sitting with Cedric during lunch. I had called her last night, using it as an opportunity to tell her about what Cedric and I had talked about. At one point during the conversation, we both dissolved to tears. She apologized for keeping it from me, telling me it was only because Cedric has asked her to. A part of me felt betrayed, but it was more of a pang of regret for having spent so much time hating them both when they’d done nothing wrong. I told her about the kiss and all the moments that eventually led to it. At first, she stayed silent, but just when the silence had started to grow awkward enough, she said, “Why did you kiss him?” It was such a simple question, really, but I found it hard to scramble for a reply. I tried to think back to that momentary lapse in time when I had pressed my lips against his and tried to dig through my brain to remember how I felt at the time, but I came up with nothing. “It just… felt like the right thing to do.”

She took this in for a moment and I waited, the silent pause, though short, unnervingly difficult to ignore over the static. “What about when he pulled away?” she finally said. “What did you feel then?” I paused, then, truthfully, I said, “I think a part of me was relieved.” When she didn’t say anything, I continued, “It’s just that a lot of things have changed. It’s… not the same.” I was thankful when she said she understood, telling me she was happy that things turned out okay between me and Cedric. The next day, Cedric didn’t show up in class. I was immediately worried, thinking that things could have gone from bad to worse overnight, so I called him right after last period ended. “I’m fine,” he told me. “Dad just wanted to make sure my battle scars from yesterday weren’t going to cause any serious complications.” Guilt immediately flooded me. I gripped my phone so tightly I could feel every edge marking indents against my fingers. “Are they?” I swallowed. “Going to cause complications?” “We’ll be on our way to St. John’s for a checkup,” he said, “but I’m fine. Really.” The next day, I literally couldn’t help myself when I saw him in the library. I stood up and threw my arms around him in relief, ignoring Mrs. Ramirez’s hostile stare. Just like old times, we decided to wait here for Hail before heading to the cafeteria for lunch. “I didn’t know you missed me this much,” he said when I finally pulled away. I released him and playfully slapped him in the chest. He flinched back, wincing, and my eyes automatically widened. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you—” “I’m fine,” he cut me off. “You just hit a sore spot, courtesy of your ex- boyfriend.” “Technically, he was never really my boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow at this, but he didn’t say anything until we reached the farthest table at the back of the library. “Tell me about him.” “What?” “Come on,” he said, nudging me with an elbow. “What was he like?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules of breakups to talk about fake ex- boyfriends with your real ex- boyfriend.” “What can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m a rule breaker.” I frowned, knowing for a fact that Cedric was a lot of things, but a rule breaker wasn’t one of them. I didn’t call him on it, though, and instead I said, “I really don’t want to talk about him.” Things between Seth and I had only progressed from confusing to crazy. It was irritating how I both understood him and hated him for turning his back and driving away when things should have gone in a completely different direction, but over the past few days, I was growing more and more okay with it. I recalled that one time when he told me how I always saw things in a different light. He said I could always acknowledge the bad things but still see the good things, and I guess that was exactly how I managed to figure out what exactly I was feeling towards him. I could acknowledge his fatal flaw —which had been his broken heart all along—but I could never forget the goodness I had seen in him.

It was just one dim star against a million bright ones. So I told Cedric about those bright stars. I told him about how patient he had been with me the whole time, and how he always knew what words to say to make me feel better. I told him about those insanely easy conversations I had with him, and of the night of the midnight picnic. I recounted it all and Cedric listened with a wistful expression., and when I was done, a distant expression had made its way to his face. He turned to me with a scrutinizing gaze, and softly he said, “What happened?” “What do you mean?” “I mean,” he said, shifting in his seat to look at me completely, “what went wrong?” I looked away from him and focused my gaze on my hands atop the wooden desk. I released a deep breath and shook my head, trying to come up with the right words to answer his question. But then I realized that maybe the question itself wasn’t right. “Who’s to say what’s right and wrong?” I found myself saying. “I mean, I don’t know. Maybe things didn’t go wrong. Maybe things were supposed to end that way. Some things just aren’t meant to be.” My eyes flitted back to his. I lifted my shoulder and raised an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely at him and me. “I mean, look at us.” He opened his mouth to speak but he only shut it again. Slowly, his furrowed brows gave way to a more relaxed expression as his lips tugging into a teasing smile. “When did you become so grown up?” “Well, there was this guy who dumped me on his birthday,” I said, nudging his foot under the table. “Broke my heart.” He shook his head. “Must have been an idiot, that guy.” There was a smile on his face, but I didn’t miss the note of regret in it. “His loss.” “Cedric,” I said, but I didn’t quite know how to continue. “Don’t.” He held a hand up, his palm turned to me. “It was his fault.” Our eyes met. I tried to say something, but I couldn’t come up with the right words. “It’s Seth’s loss, too,” he continued, averting his gaze and heaving a deep sigh. “And I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but trust me when I say it’s his loss.” I dropped my gaze to the surface of the table. “You know,” I said, “I wish I was still completely in love with you.” “And I,” he countered, “have been wishing for the exact opposite.” I closed my eyes and let my buried my face on the sleeve of his shirt. We were both quiet as we let ourselves just sit there, comforted by the thought of having each other again. Things might not have gone exactly the way I expected them to, but that didn’t exactly mean that they were wrong. Every moment of our lives has the ability to be life-changing, some of them more so than the others, and we are all constantly growing through these moments. Even the bad moments need to happen in order for the good ones to come. I became friends with Cedric because of my father’s death. Cedric broke up with me and I had the chance to get to know Seth. Seth decided to walk away, and now here I was, and I don’t doubt for one second that good moments are yet to come. You can’t take shortcuts. You have to go through the bad moments because these roads often lead to other roads that offer good ones. Just like you can’t have a sky with nothing but bright stars. There will always be some dim stars here and there, scattered among the bright ones, and because of this, the sky becomes much, much more breathtaking.

What I feel right now is that You You Kyla, you ar such a betrayal..... When Cedric start his Chemo, if them born you well, make you start looking for Seth, ah go trash una brain commot your head...

hummmmmmm...short of word

W@ end re u talkin abt, everything dats happenin ryt nw is jst natural, am only hopin d@ she'l be able 2 move on nd nt wallow in guilt wen Cedric is gone.

I cnt jez believe cedric is dieing..... Nd i so fucking hope dat kyla nd seth ends 2geda....

Chapter 37 Maybe I should have been alarmed, or at least worried, about all the rumors circulating the school about my breakup with Seth, but I’ve gone past the point of caring by the time Thursday rolled around. In four days, I had evolved into an enigma of some sort—and the prevailing rumor was that I was the girl who cheated on Seth Everett in order to run off with Cedric the Nobody, which was why the two guys started punching each other last Monday. While it seemed logical, at least more than the other rumors, it was still kind of offensive how people can create rumors about someone they barely knew and how the rest use these rumors to make quick judgments. I tried not to let it bother me because, really, what else was I supposed to do? Most of the damage had been done and the only broken piece that mattered to me was the one that contained the relationship, or lack thereof, between me and Seth. Over the last few days, I’d seen him in the cafeteria, sitting with everyone else. I tried not to look at him as much as possible, but sometimes, I’d look over, and I couldn’t decide whether or not to be disappointed because not once had our eyes met. We haven’t talked at all since the day he decided to drive off, and more and more messages were added to the Unsent folder on my phone. I didn’t know why, but there was something oddly comforting about putting my thoughts into words, so I started to talk to this empty space where he used to be. The messages weren’t even about us anymore. I’d started talking about all these other things I would have told him if things between us hadn’t fallen already fallen apart. Mom and I had dinner at one of Dad’s favorite restaurants today. We haven’t gone together in ages. I don’t know. I feel like it’s more than just about eating there. It felt like revisiting the past, something I’d always been afraid of doing, and I’d like to think I got over that fear because, really, when you visit the past, it’s the happy moments—the ones that matter—that you tend to remember. And then the next morning: I had that dream again, the one where I was chasing a bird down the white corridor. But this time, I think I was running with someone. I think it was you. It wasn’t even that I was mad at him. I’d gone past the point of anger, and maybe I was just sad. I’d lost a friend when things got muddy when all these other feelings had been thrown into the mix, and it was just disheartening to think about how he had been a massive part of my life for the past few week, and now we were reduced to this. It felt like Cedric all over again. In any case, I didn’t let myself drift away from the others, so Alyssa, Lily and I decided to meet Thursday after school with Hail. The moment we arrived at Coffee Overdose, Alyssa and Lily immediately noticed how hot Chris the Barista was. Hail and I exchanged knowing looks while they eyed him appreciatively. “Why have we never been here before?” Lily whispered to Alyssa, who didn’t bother to reply, too busy ogling Chris. “And you guys wanted to go Starbucks,” Hail had pointed out. Alyssa barely looked away from the counter. “You guys never said there’s a Greek god working here.”

“Italian, actually,” I told her, grinning at the wide-eyed stares they’d given us. “We asked.” They insisted on ordering, so Hail and I let them. When they asked what we wanted, Hail just replied with a mysterious, “Don’t worry. Chris knows,” which I think might have made them kind of amazed and jealous at the same time. “I missed them,” I told Hail. “What about Seth?” she dead- panned. “Admit it. I’ve seen the way you look at him at lunch.” I didn’t get a chance to defend myself—not that there was a lot I could say in defense—because when I opened my mouth to reply, Alyssa and Lily were setting back into their seats, still giggling from the encounter with Chris. For the first few minutes, it was hard to discuss anything that didn’t involve the all-too-mysterious Chris, especially since we were all practically in love with him, but I knew it was only a matter o time until one of us decided to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Sur enough, a half hour later, Alyssa finally said, “I wish you guys would eat with us again.” Her lips were pulled ever so slightly downwards and her eyes were trained on the plate of unfinished apple crumble pie in front of her, and already I knew where this conversation was heading. “We miss you, too,” I told them, then, I cleared my throat and said, “How… how’s Seth?” It was really nothing but a harmless question, but I didn’t miss the look Alyssa exchanged with Lily. There was something about that brief look, a note of hesitation, that made the curiosity burn even stronger. “He seems kind of distracted lately,” Lily replied after exchanging another look with Alyssa. “We know something’s bothering him, but he’s closed off as usual.” “We think it has something to do with your ‘breakup,’” Alyssa added, “but it’s like something else is bothering him.” I blinked, trying to process this information as Hail, who always liked analyzing situations through details, asked them to elaborate on his behavior. I didn’t tell them that I knew what was bothering him. His dad was coming home tomorrow, and to Seth, this was probably something he wasn’t looking forward to. I remembered this because the deadline for the entry on the writing contest’s elimination round was also tomorrow. “The other guy you sit with,” Lily suddenly brought up. “He was the guy who got into a fight with Seth?” The mention of the fight made me cringe. The memory of Cedric throwing a punch at Seth and everything else was still as clear as glass in my head. “Yeah,” I replied, looking down at my hands, which were resting on my lap. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” Alyssa gave me hesitant look before asking, “Are you guys back together?” I took a sip of my chocolate chip frappe, trying to loosen the tightening on my throat, but I knew it had nothing to do with thirst. I shook my head. “No, we’re not.” I set my drink back on the table. “We’re just friends now.” Hail must have noticed my discomfort, immediately steering the topic to something else that involved neither Seth nor Cedric. Much to my relief, Alyssa and Lily were more than just happy to help Hail when she asked them if they could help her shop for a dress. We hadn’t told anyone about the cancer at all. Cedric didn’t want word to go around. There were some times when I almost told my mom, especially because she noticed that I’d been sort of upset lately. She assumed it had something to do with Seth—and maybe it did, in a way—but it had more to do with Cedric’s condition.

Right before saying goodbye an hour later, Alyssa pulled me into one of her bone-crushing hugs. “I hope you work things out with Seth.” It didn’t seem likely, at the rate things were going, so I just clamped my mouth shut. “Kyla, you’re the only one he ever talks to when he’s upset,” she said. “I’m really worried.” I wish I could tell her that I’d try talking to him, that I’d make sure he was all right and that there was nothing to worry about, but saying that would make me a liar, so I didn’t. --- When I got home, Cedric’s car was parked right outside our house. I got out of mine and walked over to his. I could hear the faint hum of the engine running, so I figured he was inside. Gently, I rapped my knuckles against the cold window until it slid down to reveal a grinning Cedric. “Why are you waiting out here? You should have rung the doorbell,” I asked him. “Mom would have let you in.” “I don’t know.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I felt awkward about doing that, so I thought I should just wait for you to come home.” When Cedric and I were together, Mom and I hadn’t really been close, so I could see why he would have felt that way around her. I usually didn’t stay at my house in the rare times that Mom was around and, by default, neither did Cedric. “Come on in,” I told him. “Have dinner with us.” His brows furrowed. “With your mom?” “Remember how I said a lot of things have changed?” He opened his mouth to reply, or possibly protest, but he just closed it again. I watched as he twisted in his seat to reach for something from the backseat. When he turned back, he was holding a thick, black hoodie. He quickly put it on, even though he was already wearing a jacket. I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to ignore what all these layers meant. He turned the engine off and stepped out of his car. His bruises were beginning mostly just yellowish now and the cut on his upper lip had almost completely disappeared. I wasn’t sure if the cancer affected the healing process, but in any case, I was glad that they weren’t as bad as they looked three days ago. Even my own black eye had pretty much disappeared now. There was still a slight, slight discoloration, but it was nothing a little bit of powder couldn’t conceal. “Why’d you come over?” I asked him as we made our way to the front porch. In reply to this, he handed me a book I hadn’t noticed he was holding. I reached for it, eyeing the tiger on the cover. I held it in my hands and turned it over. It was titled Life of Pi, and it seemed like a fairly new copy. “I wanted to give you that, so you can read it, and we can both go crazy trying to analyze the ending,” he said, sounding slightly worked up. “Seriously. I just finished it an hour ago and before I knew it, I was already on my way here because I really, really need someone to talk to about the ending.” “I think this has a movie, right?” He gave me another wide grin as he dug into the pocket of his jeans and protruded a gray flash drive. “That’s the other reason.”

I laughed, shaking my head at him as I clutched the book closer to me. We started walking, making our way towards the front porch. “You do know I’m against watching a movie adaptation of a book I haven’t read yet.” He gave me a ridiculously persuading look, with his eyes glinting, catching the dim light from the streetlights a few lots over. “Come on, Ky. Are you really putting your literary values over me?” A laugh escaped my lips. “Literary values?” He stopped walking and turned to face me, putting two hands on my shoulders, slightly shaking me. “That’s not the point. I literally need someone to talk to about this ending, Ky.” “Literary values,” I repeated, marveling at the unimpressed look he was giving me. I burst out laughing and finally agreed. --- Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. It wasn’t as hard or awkward as I (and I suspect Cedric as well) expected it to be. Mom was surprised when she saw Cedric, of course, and she sent me a curious glance but I shrugged it off. The food—some dish involving broccoli and shiitake mushrooms in this delicious sauce—was already cooked when we got there. She was probably just waiting for me to come home. It was a good thing Mom almost always cooked more than necessary (she was, for some reason, bad at calculating portions when it came to cooking) so we didn’t have to worry about Cedric’s share. It pretty much went well, with average, non-squirmy conversations and really good food (that I could tell Cedric enjoyed). After dinner, we went up to my room so we could watch the movie. When I pushed my bedroom open, there was a moment when we both just stood there, staring at my room. I knew we were both transported to the past and all the times we’d spent here with each other before. “Well,” he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “this isn’t awkward at all.” I laughed, his remark easily removing the tension in the air. “Not at all. Really.” I stepped into the room and tried not to think too much of the fact that the last time he had been up here, we were still in a relationship. As I prepared the laptop, I dared a glance at his way. I almost stopped what I was doing when I noticed that he was holding the picture frame on top of my drawer, the one that used to hold our prom picture. He looked lost in thought as he studied it and I wondered what he thought of the fact that I removed our picture. He looked up and caught me looking. I looked away and busied myself with untangling the cords of the laptop charger, which I’d carelessly thrown bundled together the night before. “That was your dad, right?” I knew he was talking about the picture I replaced ours with. “Yeah,” I replied as I fumbled with the charger. I realized, for a second, that life was like a complicated mess of tangled wires, and the only way to untangle them is to work on the knots one by one, slowly loosening everything bit by bit until you straighten it all out. I was glad I’d sorted out the knot between me and Cedric. Behind me, I felt him shift, and quietly, he said, “It’s a good picture.” “Well,” I told him, “that picture of us was pretty good too.” When I looked at him, finally finished with the task at hand, he was giving me a grateful smile and I was glad, really glad, that he knew I meant more than just the picture.

To Cedric’s credit, the ending of Life of Pi really did need to be discussed properly. As the credits rolled in, I turned to Cedric with wide eyes and began asking him multitude of questions about his thoughts on the ending. Soon, we were both rambling on and on, our words overlapping, both of us jumping in to finish the other’s sentences. “I can’t—I can’t wrap my head around the idea,” I told him. “It’s so… so open-ended. My brain can’t process it.” “Mindfucked, I told you,” he pointed out. “See? This is why I needed you to forget about your —” “Literary values?” He made a face. “Will you ever let that go?” “I probably won’t.” We had both agreed that the ending was basically forcing us choose whether we were realistic or idealistic when I spotted the electric guitar on the corner of the room. It was slightly obscured from our view I’d forgotten about it up until now. I stood up from the floor and nearly tripped on some wires in my hurry to get to the guitar. It had been sitting there, collecting dust for months, and for the longest while, I had no idea what to do with it. Now, I was glad I hadn’t put it up for sale or whatever. I grabbed it and brought it back to where Cedric was sitting. He got to his feet, eyeing the black guitar case. “Kyla, is that—” “Yes.” I held it out to him. “It was supposed to be your birthday gift.” His eyes flew back to mine. “You didn’t return it?” “I couldn’t make myself.” I took a deep breath and looked down at my feet. “I think, all this time, I always thought we’d get back together.” He took it from me, slightly in awe as he carefully set one end down on the floor. For a moment, he just looked at it, unmoving, then slowly, he zipped it open. He inhaled sharply, then he let his hands trail over the smooth black and white surface. “Kyla. I can’t…” “It looks good, yeah?” “It’s not just that.” When he looked at me, his eyes reflected a storm of different emotions. “You kept it. After all this time.” “Of course,” I said, “of course, I did.” --- Only when Cedric left did I let myself think of the whole writing contest thing. I still couldn’t come up with anything, which was alarming, because the deadline was tomorrow. I was supposed to send something by 11:59 pm the next day. I considered pushing my luck and trying to write tomorrow instead. I might have a stroke of luck or inspiration or whatever that could convince me to write. Then again, I might not, so I heaved a sigh and brought my laptop to my bed and opened Word. I wanted to write about Dad. Or Cedric. Or even Seth. All of them meant so much to me, in their own ways. But I’d spent the whole week trying to write about each of them and I couldn’t seem to get past the first few paragraphs. . It wasn’t like I’d lose anything if I decided not to join. The only one who knew I’d be writing was Seth —and he was the only one I’d be letting down.

In fact, I wouldn’t even have the chance to disappoint him because he wasn’t even here anymore. Sighing, I gave up and closed the blank document and turned the laptop off. --- I’m not doing the writing contest anymore. I feel like you’d be disappointed if you knew this, and I kind of want you to know, because disappointed is better than indifferent; better than nothing. Unsent. --- Friday was pretty much uneventful, which seemed anticlimactic to me at first. It’s been bugging me for days now, and the fact that it went by like any other day seemed like I hadn’t done my thoughts justice. I suppose it had something to do with the fact that I’d given up on joining the writing contest, and the truth was that I felt disappointed in myself for not being able to write when I wanted to. Instead of beating myself over it, I decided to come over Hail’s house to visit her mom. Cedric went with me and we stayed there until dinnertime. It felt like the old times, but I knew that everything was different now. We had all grown, not apart but closer, somehow, in a way that was different from our closeness back then, and it was nice to be there with the two people I’d always relied on as I grew up. I was already halfway home when my phone rang. I expected it to be Hail, calling to tell me I left something or to thank me for coming over, and I was surprised to find that it wasn’t. I couldn’t process this at first as I stared blankly at the screen, feeling like I was simply imagining the name blinking back at me, and when it was clear that I wasn’t, I swallowed and forced myself to answer the call, pulling over to the sidewalk before bringing the phone close to my ear. “Hello?” Silence. My heart sank to my stomach “Hello?” I repeated. “Seth?” Nothing. I waited, wondering if he might have just dialed it accidentally, and felt a stab of disappointment shoot through me. Just when I was about to end the call, his voice broke the static silence. “Can we talk?”

hnmmmmm.

y nt,well done SHaXEE

Yeah seth! I've been wanting 2 talk to u all dis while... Where re we meeting? I've missed u so much... I really cn't wait 2 tell u all dat has been going on... (Kyla's thoughts)

Chapter 38 I wish I had seen it coming, but I hadn’t. There were no warnings; no precautions, nothing that could have given me time to prepare for the strong winds; nothing that could have prevented me from being stranded in a thunderstorm. I was travelling unprepared, treading my way towards a storm named Seth without any knowledge of what might be waiting for me. The call was nothing if not brief—short and on-point and I was yet to distinguish what emotions, if any, were lying beneath his monotonous voice during the whole exchange. “Okay,” I had told him when he asked if we could meet. Almost unconsciously, I pressed the phone closer to my ear, afraid I might miss a word. “Can you meet me at Snowflake?” It was more a plea than a request, and the note of desperation in his words made my gut clench. I could have been overanalyzing things, but I couldn’t help myself from worrying because I knew him well enough to know that he always headed to Snowflake when he was upset. “I’ll be there in ten,” I replied. When he ended the call, I immediately made a U- turn, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in my stomach. I was both excited and scared to face him. We hadn’t seen each other, at least not for real, for almost a whole week now, and the idea of talking to him so soon was something that never really occurred to me before. What I didn’t know then, of course, as I got switched lanes to head back to the town proper, was that I was heading face-first into a storm without so much as an umbrella in hand. --- The word Snowflake was sprawled across the sign they had out front, illuminated by three light bulbs, one of which kept flicking on and off. It was hard not to notice it when I pulled into the parking lot. I made myself scan the area, looking for Seth’s car, which wasn’t exactly hard to miss as it was the only other car in the parking lot. I spent the whole ride trying to prepare myself to see him again, trying out possible dialogues in my head because I was worried I might not be able to say anything at all. And if there was one thing that had always been easy between me and Seth, it was talking. Our conversations made me feel a kind of comfort that most people could only get from long-time friends and the thought of having awkward pauses with him scared me. It was the only thing that proved how much we got along, and if we didn’t have even just that, then we had nothing, and the thought sent a wave of nausea washing over me. I took three deep breaths before turning the engine off and pushing the car door open. I planted a slightly shaky foot on the ground, bracing myself for the conversation waiting for me inside, as I heaved the rest of my body out of the car. I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I made my way across the lot. I paused for a second when I reached the door, then I took another deep breath and pushed it open. It was warmer inside, which made eating a frozen treat seem kind of counterproductive, and I immediately let the door swing shut to keep the cold out. My eyes gravitated to a table, almost as if I knew he would be there, and my breath was momentarily taken away when my eyes met his startling blue eyes.

It’s been almost six days since the last time I’d seen those eyes. Seth lifted a hand in a small wave. His lips were tugged into a smile that was anything but happy, and as I walked closer, I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from him. His hands were on the table, right beside a cup of frozen yogurt, and his hair was disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through it a lot. He looked tired but I knew it wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that could be fixed by any amount of sleep. I carefully lowered myself to the seat across him. His bruises from the fight were nearly gone as well, save for the particularly large one on his jaw, and I missed him so fucking much it was all I could do to keep myself from staring. “Hey,” he said, voice surprisingly steadier than I excepted. “You came.” “Why wouldn’t I?” “Well, I have been a major asshole who, a couple of days ago, said a major asshole line to you.” He lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “I think that’s reason enough.” “The whole time we spent together, I’d been nothing but a major bitch to you,” I pointed out, “I don’t think that stopped you from driving to my house at two in the morning just because I had a bad dream.” This earned a genuine smile from him, one that nearly took my breath away. He leaned back and shook his head ever so slightly, letting his smile fade and his expression soften. “You can still change your mind and walk out on me right now.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Seth, I’m not leaving. Not when you’re clearly upset.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “What makes you think I’m upset?” I pointed at the cup that sat between us on top of the table. “Because your frozen yogurt is not so frozen anymore.” I raised my gaze to his and maintained eye contact. “And I don’t think you’ve eaten even one spoon of it.” He stared back at me. “And if fro-yo doesn’t do the trick,” I said, “then it must be really, really serious.” He dropped his gaze and something about this— about the way it made him look as if he had been defeated—confirmed my fro-yo theory. He picked up his cup and stared at the various toppings swimming in the melted yogurt. With a sigh, he replaced it back on the table. “Whenever I was upset,” he said, still not looking me in the eye, “Sam would always bring me here.” His gaze was distant, like he was watching a memory unfold. “The first time we came here was during third grade,” he said, a forlorn smile on his face. “You know Melissa Park?” “That tall Korean girl?” He nodded. “Well, I, a skinny and scrawny and highly ambitious kid, decided to give her a love letter.” My brows shot up my forehead. He seemed to have expected my reaction and he laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s just say it didn’t end well. So Sam, who was a fifth grader then, demanded for Dad to bring us here. She was such a bossy kid,” he told me, “and she literally talked to Dad like she was older than him. So he drove us here and we ate. Ever since then, whenever I was upset, we would go here.” His voice trailed off, eyes trained on the table.

“‘Nothing fro-yo can’t fix,’ she used to say,” he added, more quietly now, staring hard at the untouched cup of frozen yogurt. “I guess she was wrong.” It was hard to watch him like this. Gone was the confident Seth I’d come to know, the Seth who always seemed to be steady and sure- footed and reliable and sturdy. It was like he suddenly had no idea where he was, or where to go from here. I studied him closely, taking in the slump of his shoulders and the rings around his eyes. “Seth.” He looked up and our gazes locked. Softly, I murmured, “What’s wrong?” I kept searching for traces of the usual gleam in the depths of those blue eyes of his, but they were devoid of any emotion. It hurt to see him like this and it was all I could do to keep myself from taking the question back and dropping the topic completely, if it meant he wouldn’t have to make this face anymore. But I stayed firm and waited. He shifted, gesturing to himself with a hand. “I fucked up a lot of things.” I didn’t say anything, waiting for him to elaborate. “Things between us...” he began, pausing to take a deep breath. “Things between us are driving me crazy.” My heart lurched to my throat. “We’ve been spending nearly every day together for days,” he continued, not quite looking me in the eye. “And now we don’t even look each other in the eye anymore.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You were the one who turned away.” “Exactly,” he said. “And I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “Why did you call me, Seth?” He looked at me for a long time. His eyes were painted with a kind of sadness that was so overwhelming it took me all I had not to reach for his hand, to engulf him in a hug in the hopes that it would make him forget whatever pain he was going through. The silence stretched between us, unbearable and difficult to navigate through. I would have given anything to know what was going on in his head at that moment, as the two of us continued to teeter off the edge of something—something I couldn’t quite name. Before he could say anything, however, my phone started ringing. I was set on ignoring the call, but when I looked down and saw Hail’s name, a feeling of sudden dread washed over me. “Hold on a sec,” I told Seth, turning away to answer the call, pushing past the unexplained worry. “Hey,” I said into the phone. “Kyla.” I held my breath. “It’s Cedric.” --- I was already on my feet as soon as the call ended, making Seth look up at me in surprise. “I have to go.” He snapped out of his seat as well. The sadness in his face was replaced with wary and alarm. He had been listening in on my side of the short conversation with Hail as I asked her what happened. He must have picked up on my desperation. “Where to?” I bit my lower lip, scrambling to look for words to justify the fact that I was ditching him, but my brain was too frazzled to come up with anything. Worrying about Cedric left no room for coherent thoughts and when I opened my mouth to say something, I only ended up closing it again. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing I could say as I hurriedly made my way to the door.

“Kyla!” I heard him call me, but I hastened my pace and ignored him. Just as I touched the door handle, I felt him yank me back. “What’s wrong?” he uttered the words carefully, like he was worried I might react violently if he startled me. When I turned to look at him, I had no intention of telling him anything about the situation at all, but when I saw this newfound determination in the way his face was set—lips pursed, eyes focused but pleading, every bit desperate to know what was going on—I found myself taking a deep breath. “Cedric’s in the hospital,” I said. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” I pulled my arm from his grip and turned away, pushing the door open and rushing to my car. I was busy trying to unlock my car when I realized he went after me, pushing past the door and walking towards me with sure and steady steps. “I’ll drive,” he said. I looked up at him in surprise. “What?” “Your hands are shaking,” he said quietly, holding out his hand for me to hand him the keys. He had completely abandoned the negative aura he had just a while ago and it was like he was back to being the Seth I could always rely on. I could tell, however, that it still lay underneath this calm demeanor. “You don’t have to,” I told him. “And besides, what’ll you do with your car?” “I don’t know what’s going on.” He took a step closer and carefully pried the keys from my shaking hands. I let him take them. “But I know you hate hospitals.” I stared at him and tried to protest, but the words died on my throat. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was relieved he was taking control, at least for now, because I wasn’t sure if I could deal with this. Hail told me Cedric collapsed, and that he was lucky enough that it didn’t happen when he was out driving on his way home because it happened just as soon as he got home. Worry and panic was overwhelming me, flooding into my system until I was completely submerged, gasping for air because all my other senses have shut down. Seth looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. There was something about the fact that he was willing to put himself aside to help me that made me think—really think—of taking the helping hand he had extended. I let out a shaky breath and stepped aside, bringing my gaze to his. “He’s in St. John’s.” --- One night when I was nine, my mom came into my room and shook me out of sleep at three in the morning. I remember trying to rub the sleep from my eyes as she told me to get dressed, quickly, because we had to hurry up. When we got to the car, my dad was seated in the back. That in itself was a rarity, but at that moment, I didn’t know its implications yet. My mom opened the door on the passenger side and asked me to get in, but I shook my head and climbed into the backseat with my dad instead. He was pale and hardly conscious, running a fever so high that I remember being scared for him. I watched him shiver, even though both Mom and I were already sweating in the stifling air of the confined space in the car, and kept my eyes on him throughout the whole ride, afraid that he’d disappear once I looked away.

It was the night they finally told me what was going on. It was the night Mom and I began to find the hospital as something that resembled more of our home than our house did, because by being in the hospital, Dad had taken more than half of our home with him. It was the night we stopped having proper dinners, replacing those with Chinese takeout or pizza instead. Somehow, I felt as if I was brought back to that night, being shaken out of sleep by Mom. Only this time, it was Hail’s call that woke me up, and it was Seth sitting behind the steering wheel. I curled into myself on the passenger seat, bringing my feet up so I could hug my knees close to me, as if doing this would shield me from whatever lay ahead us. There were too many things trying to break my shell at that moment. There were the memories of my dad, Seth’s physical proximity but emotional distance, Cedric’s fainting. I could feel something threatening to give out; and I knew that just the slightest bit of pressure would cause everything to collapse. Maybe there was a part of me that still trusted Seth— a part of me that still longed to depend on him for help. It was a pathetic part of me, a weakness of some sort. That thing that was barely keeping me together was breaking, and I was afraid that I might burst at the seams. I needed something to hold on to—something to grasp to keep me up, to lessen the pressure on myself, and at that that moment, telling Seth seemed like the right thing to do. So when he asked me why Cedric was in the hospital, I took a shaky breath, trying to ignore the possible consequences that telling him would entail. His eyes were focused on the road, but something told me his ears were all mine, that he was going to listen to whatever I had to say if I wanted to talk. “He fainted,” I told him, swallowing past the lump in my throat. He dared a quick glance at me. “He was brought to the hospital for fainting?” I cast my gaze down, tearing my eyes from him and focusing on my knees instead. “It’s complicated.” It was almost ironic how I resorted to using that line, not when I hated Cedric for a while because of it, and only now that I knew the truth did I realize that it was true. It really was too fucking complicated. “Complicated… how?” he prompted when I didn’t elaborate. Letting out a sigh, I buried my head between my knees. “Cancer,” I choked out. “He has fucking cancer.” --- There was a certain kind of sadness in the way that white hospital corridors held different stories behind the closed doors of each room. I’d never been claustrophobic, but the sight of the white-washed walls and the nurses walking here and there as each story behind the doors continued to unfold made me feel as if the walls were closing in around me. I almost didn’t want to go in. It was different when Hail and I visited her mom. She had been admitted to the smaller hospital that was closer to our neighborhood. St. John’s Medical Center, however, was where my dad had lived much of his last moments. There had been some changes for the past eight years; the walls from the exterior of the building had been repainted, the lobby refurnished, the computers more updated. But it was the same and nothing— nothing at all—could change the fact that this place held unpleasant memories for me.

When we pulled up in the parking lot, I had rushed out of the car, but as soon as I got to the entrance, I stopped. I was rooted on that spot, unable to move, held by the past that threatened to choke me and it wasn’t until I felt Seth’s presence behind me that I tore my gaze from the glass door to look at him. He knew. He knew I couldn’t make myself go in, and he said, “You okay?” He walked forward, stopping when he was right next to me. He reached for my hand and I let him slip his hand in mine. He tugged me gently, closer to the door, wordlessly pulling me out of the sea of worry that had been overwhelming me since Hail’s call. I emerged from the waters, gasping for air, and I was thankful—so thankful—because if it wasn’t for the warmth of his hand in mine, the way he carefully pulled me forward until I finally took a step closer to the glass door, I never would have moved from that spot. “Yeah,” I finally replied, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I’m okay.” --- Hail was already waiting at the lounge on the third floor when we got there. She looked surprised to see Seth, but that didn’t stop her from standing up to pull me into a hug. I immediately released Seth’s hand to wrap my arms around Hail too. “Any news?” I asked her when we pulled away. She shook her head, her worry visible in the way her brows were furrowed. She looked over my shoulder, her gaze landing on, I suspect, Seth standing behind me. When her eyes met mine again, I could feel her asking me a silent question. “I was with him when you called,” I told her simply, giving her an I’ll explain later look.. The three of us sat on the chairs. Hail and I were sitting next to each other and Seth was sitting adjacent us. “Seth, do you…” Hail said, “do you know about…” “Yes,” I replied for him. “I told him on the way.” Hail nodded, looking as if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. Seth gave me a look and his eyes flickered back to my shaking hands. The three of us were silent as we sat there, within those goddamn walls that made me feel so fucking claustrophobic. Still, there was nothing I could do but sit and wait and wait and wait, just like the way I used to do when I was younger. I tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming back, and I felt a headache coming along. Hail’s phone rang, startling the three of us, and she excused herself to take it and I found myself sitting in silence with Seth. I felt awful about the way our meeting ended. If I had been feeling better, I would have offered for us to resume the conversation, but at the moment, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. “You don’t have to stay,” I told him. He shifted in his seat, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “Yeah. I don’t have to,” he said, nodding, not quite looking me in the eye, “but I want to.” “You don’t even like Cedric.” This time, he met my gaze, his blue eyes gazing at me with a softness that was both haunting and comforting. He reached for my shaking hand. “I’m not here for him.”

Ironic. He is there because someone he wish to be with is there...... He is there because someone he care about is there....... He is there because he doesn't want to leave someone he miss.........

I think am beginin 2 see hw dis story wil end,.......cedric might hand kyla over 2 seth,4 him 2 take care of her,cos he kwns he wil nt make it[am jus guessin oo]

I hate hospitals too.....

@Tenniebenson (I almost forgot to put benson sef)... What if ah finaly belle full you, where you wan make we go to when you wan gave birth to mah twin-s(son/daughter)..

Chapter 39 I’d been so busy worrying about Cedric that I’d forgotten about the tangled mess that tied Seth to Cedric and his dad, at least until Philip emerged from Cedric’s room. Seth stood up, stumbling on his words as he said a hasty I’ll be back, and left before Philip had the chance to see him. Hail had questioned me, of course, on Seth’s unprecedented retreat, but I merely shook my head in reply, knowing that the situation between his mom and Philip was not my secret to tell. “The doctors are still carefully trying to monitor his condition.” Philip’s voice was heavy with exhaustion, but he forced out a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you for coming. It really means a lot.” Cedric had never really looked like Philip. From what I’d seen on the pictures, he took after his mother’s dark hair and brown eyes, but at that moment, I could see the resemblance in the way they tried to smile despite the whole situation. I wasn’t sure where his mother was, or if she even had any idea about his condition. He rarely ever talked about her, and I never asked him, because then I was convinced that some things were meant to live in the past, and his mother—after disappearing the moment the she and Philip had a divorce—had always been one of those. Philip had done a great job raising him alone and I knew that Cedric was strong enough to live without his mother, but I could only hope he was strong enough to get through this. I clenched my fists together, forcing myself to speak despite the dryness of my throat. “What happened? Is he… is he all right?” “He’ll be fine,” he replied and I let myself release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “His red blood cell count significantly dropped since his last checkup. There wasn’t enough oxygen in his bloodstream and he… collapsed.” The way he said it, it was like he was saying it could have been worse, and that was what terrified me most. Hail must have noticed the way I had stiffened, because a second later, she was prying my fist open, slipping her hand in mine to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry,” Philip told us, but I knew better than to believe him. “It will be okay. The doctors are still checking for other possible complications. Other… stuff that might have caused it.” I wasn’t sure if I was relieved to hear that or not, but in any case, I was glad it wasn’t anything worse. It was just a touch of anemia, and he was safe. At least for now. Several leukemia patients die not from the cancer itself but because of other diseases. Their bodies become too weak to fight whatever was attacking them because their immune system is all fucked up, and I couldn’t even let myself think of the same thing happening to Cedric. Philip retreated back into the room after thanking us all over again, promising he’d do everything he can to get us to see Cedric before we leave for the night. “They won’t let non-relatives in,” he said, “but I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure Cedric would want to see the two of you.” When he left, Hail and I both fell back into the chairs. It was only a few minutes past eight, but it felt like it was much, much later than that. Everything felt so surreal, because just this afternoon, I had been with Cedric, and now here I was anxiously waiting outside a hospital room, wishing he was all right.

And the worst part was that I knew, at the back of my mind, that this wasn’t the last time something like this could happen. Things would only go from bad to worse, and I knew this because I had lived through it once before. Hail didn’t know this yet, and judging from the way her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, she was barely keeping it together. “Hey,” I said softly. “How did you know he collapsed?” I saw her swallow as she raised her eyes to mine. “I was on the phone with him. He was calling to ask if he could borrow my copy of Beatrice and Virgil. Yann Martel wrote it too.” “The guy who wrote Life of Pi?” “Yeah. Then suddenly I heard something like, I don’t know, a series of thuds and the phone crashing on the floor I think. I called again and again, and finally Philip picked up and told me about it.” I could barely imagine what I would felt if I was the one who was on the phone with when it happened. She studied me for a moment, then, hesitantly, she said, “Why is… why is Seth with you?” “Oh.” After what I’d just learned about Cedric, I’d almost forgotten about Seth and the fact that we hadn’t even talked for days. The whole conversation with him earlier almost seemed like it had happened years ago. I rubbed my clammy hands against my jeans. “He called.” Her mouth dropped open. “No way.” I think she would have squealed a little if we weren’t both preoccupied with worrying about Cedric. She shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter as if to show that she was going to listen attentively. “He asked if we could talk, so we met up at Snowflake.” “What did he want to talk about?” I thought back to the past hour, trying to remember what exactly we were talking about before Hail’s call interrupted the conversation. Heaving a sigh, I shook my head. “You called before we could talk about anything.” At this, Hail fell uncharacteristically quiet, but there was rigidness to her shoulders that told me something was bothering her, so I asked her. She gave me a look, one I couldn’t quite comprehend, before taking a deep breath and turning away. “Cedric told me.” “Told you what?” “Why he doesn’t get along with Seth,” she said. My eyes snapped to her. “He did?” “Yeah. Before we made up,” she elaborated, fumbling with the hem of her sweater. “When you were just starting to date Seth. I asked him why he was so against it, and why he seemed to hate Seth, and he told me.” “Oh.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. It never occurred to me that it wasn’t only Seth’s secret to share. It was Cedric’s as well. “You think it has something to do with that?” She looked at me cautiously, like she didn’t want to hypothesize when there was no guarantee she’d be right. “I mean, about why he wanted to talk to you?” “I…” I trailed off, because I knew, somehow, that at the back of my mind, I had been asking myself the exact same question. In a firmer voice, I finally said, “I think so.” “For what it’s worth,” she said, looking me in the eye, “he’s trying to be here for you, despite… everything else.”She lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “I think that counts for something.”

Cedric’s eyes were closed when I was ushered inside by Philip, but the moment he heard me approaching, they fluttered open and landed on me. His skin was alarmingly pale and his brown hair stuck up in all directions, and for a moment I realized just how real situation was, and when he smiled, I almost cried. I quickly shuffled over to the plastic chair placed beside his bed, sinking into it without looking away from his smile. The whole thing was so familiar I could hardly bear to breathe. I found his hand somewhere in the layers of blankets thrown over him. It was cold, too cold, and I wanted so badly to share my warmth, so I wrapped his fingers in mine and held on. “You didn’t have to come,” he croaked out. I gave him a look. “Of course I did.” He looked at me, eyes tired but grateful, squeezing my hand in a silent thank you. Shifting closer, I studied him. “How are you feeling?” “Been better.” He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and I couldn’t help but reach for his head with my other hand, running my fingers through his dark locks. “Hail was here a while ago,” I told him, “she would have wanted to see you too, but she had to go home.” “God, I must have freaked her out,” he said, his eyes hardening with determination as he turned to look at me. “You shouldn’t be stuck in a hospital on a Friday night, either.” I wrinkled my nose, pretending to consider it, before saying, “Well, there weren’t any parties scheduled tonight, so I figured I might as well drop by.” He managed a weak laugh before turning away to look up at the white ceiling. When his smile evaporated, different kinds of emotions made their way to his pale face. “I’m sorry.” His voice was merely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for putting you through this again.” I had to stop myself from tightening my grip on his hand. I wanted to reassure him, but I was also afraid of hurting him. He seemed so fragile, lying there, pale and disheveled and seemingly lost, and I wanted to bring him back. I wanted him to know that I would always, always find him. “Hey,” I said, “I want to be here, okay?” He didn’t bother with a reply, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking about, but when he finally turned to look at me, I knew I wasn’t going to like it. After what felt like forever, he said, “I’m not getting any better.” I inhaled sharply. “Cedric,” I said, my voice coming out steadier than I expected it would. “Look at me. Look at me. You don’t know that for sure.” “They want to start chemo immediately, Ky” he told me. “They moved the date from next month to next week. They’re getting desperate because nothing’s working.” I shook my head, already spluttering out a series of no no you’ll get better tell me Cedric tell me you’ll get better and that you’re going to fight this tell me tell me tell me you’re fucking kidding me.

“Kyla,” he whispered, and while there was no hint of a command in the way he said my name, it felt like he had just given me an order. I shut up and sucked in a breath, pursing my lips together to choke back a sob. “I’m only getting worse,” he said matter-of-factly. I shook my head, opening my mouth to retaliate, but before I could say anything, he was speaking again. “I am, Ky, I am.” “Chemo might work,” I insisted. He gave my hand a weak squeeze. “It might.” But it might not, I almost heard him say. Looking at him, it was hard not to remember being in the same situation with dad. I took three deep breaths, telling myself to be strong, for him—for me—because I needed to be here. I needed to make sure he knew I wasn’t going anywhere, because I wasn’t. I was stronger now. “Promise me”—I swallowed—“promise me you’ll get better.” His eyes softened to reveal his sadness. His lips were pursed, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes searching mine in a way that strong, steady Cedric never had to do before. “Only if you promise me you won’t expect I will.” --- I got out of Cedric’s room just in time to find Philip deep in conversation with a doctor. I couldn’t exactly follow much of the medical terms, but I could see from the grim expression on the doctor’s face that something wasn’t quite right. Philip was nodding at certain points, surprisingly composed. When the doctor left, I reluctantly walked over to where Philip was standing, looking distraught. “What’s wrong?” I asked him. He looked surprised to see me, but he recovered quickly. “It’s—there’s a—due to short notice, there were slight problems with the blood bank, so they can’t perform a blood transfusion to raise his hemoglobin levels.” My heart sank to my stomach. “What problems?” “There was this accident two days ago where they had to use much of their supply and—and they don’t know when they’ll get more, but they say they’re trying to resolve this as soon as they can.” I could feel my heartbeat accelerating at the news. “How—what—that—that can’t happen.” I kept shaking my head at this, my mind already racing to think of the possible complications of having low RBC count for too long. “It will be okay,” he said, calm and collected, but I knew from months of watching my mother say the exact same thing that this was just simply something he’d gotten used to. “Don’t you have the same blood type?” I asked him. He heaved a sigh and shook his head. “What about—what about his mother?” He paused at the mention of his ex-wife, but then he shook his head and gave me a small smile. “There’s nothing we can do but wait. He’ll be fine.” Averting my gaze, I opened my mouth to say something but clamped it shut instead, biting down on my lower lip to keep myself from calling him on the obvious lie. I’d seen it all before and I know better now than to believe that things will be all right, but I could see the slump in his shoulders and his heavy- lidded gaze, and there was nothing I could do but nod and walk away when he told me to get some rest.

After all, he was right. There was nothing left to do but wait. And waiting, knowing that someone you love is lying in a hospital bed, cold and pale and in pain, was excruciating. I tried to think positively, to ignore the way Cedric said the words I’m not getting any better. I refused to even acknowledge the possibility. No matter what the doctors say, or how everything may seem like right now, no one can possibly prove that things aren’t changing for the better. Seth was already back when I got back to the waiting area. He was sitting with his lower arms resting on his knees, his hands loosely clasped together. There was a distant look in his eyes but when he saw me walking closer, something in his face shifted. He got to his feet, studying me in alarm. “He’s fine,” I said, then, almost as if to reassure myself, I told him, “He’ll be all right.” “Nothing critical?” “His RBC count dropped,” I told, “which is why he fainted.” His brows furrowed almost automatically. “Is he okay?” “Yeah.” I had to clear my throat because my voice didn’t exactly come out as anything close to convincing. Seth picked up on my hesitation. “What’s wrong?” I looked around, at anything but his blue eyes staring intently at me. There were only a few people here and there. Somewhere at the end of the corridor to my left, there was a woman being comforted by a man. Somewhere to my right, a nurse was walking towards the elevator, walking hand in hand with a kid wearing a hospital gown and holding a brown teddy bear. I wondered what their stories were. I wondered if the man and woman there were also “waiting.” I wondered if that girl with the teddy bear was old enough to even understand what was happening or why she was in the hospital. Life was unfair. It was so fucking unfair. When the elevator door opened, I watched as the nurse and the little girl step in and only when they shut close again did I let myself look at Seth “He needs to have blood transfusion,” I finally said and afterwards, I explained the whole thing about the blood bank and the shortage. He listened closely as I tried not to choke on my words. “All we can do now is wait.” When I looked over at him, something told me he was deep in thought. “Let’s go home for now,” I suggested. He looked up, lifting his index finger as if to count one. “Quick question.” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s Cedric’s blood type?” I studied him, taking note of the determined look in his eyes, and I replied, “O negative.” “What did they say about directed donations?” My heart lurched at his suggestion. “That—that’s—do you know someone—” With the hand that was already up in the air, he pointed at himself. “I’m O negative.”

Uhmmmmmm....... Thats the real thing that we human need to do...but we only judge people due to what we think they are...instead of us to move closer to them and knew the truth about them. Kyla first tought Seth was a human with no good-side but when she walks with Seth, she's now seeing how kind Seth is.

Cnt believe i'm sobbing already.... Dere is one thing i love most abt shaxee stories.... He alwyz have a way of bringing d good nd d bad 2geda...making us understand dat nt all stories have a so so happy ending...(life is all abt sweetness nd bitterness).... Jez d way Teniola died in switched... All i can do nw is wait nd see(nd also get ready 2 cry)....

Chapter 40 Some part of me still refused to believe the fact that Seth volunteered to be a direct donor. I didn’t bother telling Philip who the donor was, but when he saw Seth standing half-hidden a few doors away from us, I knew he recognized him. He must have known that Seth was Isabelle’s son. They excused themselves to have a private word with each other, in which I decided to wait in the lounge. It all seemed too much to take in for a single night and I could feel a dull throbbing somewhere at the back of my head. I closed my eyes, waiting for it to pass, but I must have been more exhausted than I thought because I found myself drifting into sleep. I had a dream, one where I’d taken my shoes off and climbed into a white bed where a figure was already lying down. I had a book in hand, a Dickens classic, and I was already opening it to the page where we left off on my last visit when Dad stopped me with a slight shake of his head, a small gesture that seemed to have taken him a lot of effort. “Is everything all right?” I asked him as a wave of panic rose from within me. “What’s wrong? Should I call for the nurses?” “I’m all right.” His breathing was labored, unsteady and ragged, but there was a look on his face that told me he was telling the truth. “Then let’s continue,” I said and looked down, letting my gaze fall back on the pages of the book. He reached over and pushed the book away from the two of us. “I don’t want to hear that. I’ve read those enough to last me a lifetime,” he joked, but the amusement in his eyes fall away to reveal a more somber expression. “I want to hear your stories, Kiddo. I want to hear about your life.” The nickname tugged at me and it was then that I realized I wasn’t the little girl I thought I was at the beginning of the dream. It was the present me, somehow transported back to that hospital room with my dad, who wasn’t even here anymore, and I realized that tears were already streaming down my face, blotting the pages of the book on my lap. “Okay,” I agreed, snapping the book shut. For some reason, I told him about Cedric—about the first day I met him and everything else that followed after. “I don’t think I can handle losing someone again and— and I can’t do anything about it. I can feel him slipping through my fingers no matter how much I tighten my grip.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and it almost felt real. The warmth, the weight, the familiar touch. It almost seemed real. “Kiddo,” he said, “sometimes it’s about letting go.” In a distant memory, I remember having this conversation with him, so his words were nothing but a mere echo of that day I caught a dragonfly. It was a vibrant red and orange and black, with wispy wings that continued to buzz even through the jar. I wanted to keep it, but Dad said we couldn’t keep it forever. His words were ringing back now, in the form of this dream, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a pair of electric blue eyes. I looked around, blinking, for a moment forgetting where I was until everything came into focus. “You okay?” Seth asked me and I realized that the weight on my shoulder was his hand gently shaking me awake. My eyes landed on the inside of his left elbow, where a small patch of cotton was secured to his skin with some medical tape. “Are you… are you done?” Briefly, Seth told me that in the thirty minutes I’d been sleeping, they finished running tests and had already gone through with the procedure, taking as much of his blood as they can. They advised him to get some rest.

He winked at me and a mischievous smile made its way on his face, the sight too much for my heart to bear in my half-awake daze. “Would have carried you down so you wouldn’t wake up, but they said I shouldn’t strain myself, so...” In spite of myself, I let out a soft laugh but I was too overwhelmed with the remnants of the dream to come up with a reply. “Let’s head home, yeah?” he suggested. I nodded, asking him if it was okay for him to drive, volunteering to drop him off at his house if he wasn’t, but he said I shouldn’t bother. We agreed I’d drive him back to Snowflake, where we left his car almost two hours ago. The silence was filled with the weight of all the things we’d left unsaid. I found myself pulling up on the parking lot of Snowflake for the second time tonight. Seth and I had been silent for most of the ride but when the car came to an easy halt, he made no move to leave and I realized I didn’t quite know what to tell Seth now that we had the chance to talk. We sat there, just a few inches apart, waiting for the other to speak up. My gaze landed on the clock on the dashboard and I waited until a minute passed and the numbers 9:18 were blinking back at me. Without looking at him, I said, “Why did you do it?” There was a moment of silence as he considered this, eyes fixed outside the window. “Why shouldn’t I have?” To this, I had no answer. He shifted in his seat and finally turned to look at me. There was a faint smile on his face, something I could barely make out in the lack of light. “If it was any other person, I would have done the same.” It was only now that the relief finally crashed through me. It came in a surge of wave that left me slumping against my seat, shoulders sagging, like I’d lost all my energy from all the worrying. “Thank you,” I choked out, “thankyou so much.” His lips tugged into a small smile. “Donating my blood is better than, say, having it pouring out of my menstruating foot, yeah?” I let out a breathy laugh. I was about to say something, but then his phone rang from his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the screen. His smile dissipated, and so did mine as I watched his expression shift into a cold, icy look. I waited for him to answer the call, but he merely switched it off and placed it back into his pocket. Something wasn’t right. I swallowed, carefully watching his profile. “What is it?” His steely eyes were focused ahead, his jaw taut and fists clenched. I thought back to earlier this night. We had both pushed past the main reason we were together when Hail called, and after everything that happened with Cedric, I’d almost forgotten about the way he looked the first I saw him tonight—unkempt and miserable and sad and unsteady—but now as I looked at him, I couldn’t help the worry that immediately seized my gut. He took in a deep breath, taking his time to answer, but he merely turned to me with a smile that wasn’t quite real. He lifted a hand, and for a second I wondered why, but then he placed it on top of my head and started to ruffle my hair. “I think we both need some rest.”

I was about to protest, telling him that I wasn’t that tired, but then I realized, as I took in the sight of that godforsaken sad smile, that he was saying this for himself. That he was the one who had had enough for the night and that he was asking me to drop it. At least for tonight. “We’ll talk soon?” I found myself asking as he pushed the door open, because something in my subconscious was telling me that whatever was up, I wasn’t going to like it. He nodded, a little distractedly, but I was glad to see that he held my gaze when he replied. “Soon.” --- I hadn’t been driving for too long when my phone buzzed with a text. I happened to be at a stoplight so I didn’t hesitate when I checked to see who it was. My first thought was that it was Hail, probably making sure that Cedric was all right, but it was actually my mom, asking me to buy some bread on my way home. I was reminded of the fact that we were supposed to have dinner with Norman tomorrow. I texted her back—sure, no problem—as the light shifted to green. I made a right to head to that bakery my mom liked. She always preferred using day-old bread to make garlic toast, so I didn’t question this sudden request to buy some bread at half past nine in the evening. There were more cars out here in this side of town and I’d almost forgotten that it was a Friday night and most people were out doing some stuff that didn’t involve having a strained conversation with their fake ex-boyfriends, rushing to the hospital because of their sick real ex-boyfriends, and being asked to buy some bread. I got to Julie’s Bread and Pastries in less than ten minutes. It was just about closing time and if I wasn’t mistaken, everything was sold at half the original price during those last thirty minutes of the day. Their cream puffs here were to-die-for, as well as their chocolate croissants, so I made a mental note of adding that to the stuff to buy. I double-checked the locks before stepping into the bakery. The smell of cinnamon and butter immediately made my mouth water the moment I pushed the door open and the warm pastel yellow walls were a nice change from the dull white of the hospital. “Welcome to Julie’s,” a voice greeted me. “Everything’s at half-price and—” The speaker stopped as soon as I looked over. We both seemed too stunned to react properly, but then a grin broke into his face. He set down the book he was holding and moved from behind the counter to step closer. “Dylan,” I managed to say as he came closer. His steps were almost reluctant, but the bright smile told me he was genuinely happy to see me. “Kyla. Wow—are you—hey.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You work here?” “Yeah,” he replied with a slight shrug. “I mean, um, my mom kind of owns the place.” My eyes widened in recognition as the memory of his mom, back in that fancy diner, quickly resurfaced, and I vaguely remembered that her name was Julie. I frowned. “I’d been here before. I don’t think I ever saw you before.” “Yeah,” he said, still unable to stop himself from smiling. “My car’s busted. The engine finally gave up on me. Mom agreed to pay for the repairs if I helped out for three months. In any case, wow, what a coincidence.” “How are you?” I asked as I finally made my way along the aisles, grabbing a tray lined with some paper and some plastic gloves. He fell into step with me as I scanned the rows of bread still available. Some of the bestsellers were already sold out, but there were still a lot delicious-looking pastries.

“I’m all right, I guess. Been kind of busy for the past week.” Taking what’s left of the cream puffs and putting them on my tray, I looked up at him. “Really? From helping out here?” He shook his head, placing his hands deep in his pocket. “There’s this writing contest and—” Surprised, I looked at him and almost dropped my tray. His reflexes were quick. He swooped in to steady it before the creams puffs rolled off over the edge. “Is it that surprising?” He smiled sheepishly as he stepped away. “No,” I quickly said, shaking my head. I was smiling but I couldn’t help the crease in my eyebrows as I looked at him. “It’s just, uh, I was also planning to join that contest.” “Really?” His eyes literally twinkled. “How’s your piece? It literally took me a week to finish what I was writing since schoolwork always got in the way. I’m glad I was able to send it in this morning.” I fought the urge to cringe. “I actually wasn’t able to write anything.” “Oh.” “Yeah.” I lifted a shoulder in an attempt to show indifference, but it had actually been bugging me a lots. “I couldn’t come up with anything decent so… I gave up.” He looked over his shoulder and I followed his gaze. There was a plain clock hanging on the wall behind the register. He looked back at me with a hesitant smile before saying, “Well, you still have two hours if you change your mind.” “I, uh, I don’t have anything to write,” I said. “I tried writing about my dad but... it just wasn’t working well.” “Have you tried writing about other things?” I looked down at my tray. “Yeah. It’s just...” “What about yourself?” My eyes snapped to his. “What?” “About yourself,” he repeated. “Have you tried writing about yourself?” “I...” The smile on his face was enough to trigger something in my head and it felt like a puzzle piece had just clicked into place. It was almost as if all I’d been waiting for was this. All these two weeks when I struggled to think of anything to write, I couldn’t, but now, with this half- stranger giving me a faint smile as he recognized the look on my face, the gears in my brain finally started working. “Two hours,” he said. “You still have two hours.” --- “You were up late last night,” Mom noted as I stirred the brownie batter. She was busy chopping up garlic when she decided to bring this up. Her eyes darted to mine for a second before focusing back on mincing the garlic. It was only just nine in the morning, but my mom had already asked for my help to prepare dinner (dinner, for Pete’s sake). I knew better than to question her decision to start early though. She always preferred making herself busy when she was anxious, and that was when I realized she was nervous about the whole dinner with Norman. “I was writing,” I answered vaguely. I didn’t know why, but for some reason, the thought of telling her about the contest made me flush in embarrassment so I hadn’t told her about it at all. Only Seth knew about it.

I almost didn’t finish my entry in time, actually, but I managed to send it for the elimination just four minutes shy of the deadline. I didn’t even think that I could do it, but once I got home last night, I all but rushed up to my room. When I sat down in front of my laptop, I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it after all, but once I positioned my hands on the keyboard, the words simply came, tumbling out from some unidentified part of my subconscious. It was probably not as refined and polished, since I’d only gotten the chance to read it over twice before I sent it. I was worried that I might have missed a typo, but once I hit send, I couldn’t help but feel like I accomplished something of great importance. It might not be my best piece and the rushed writing might not be able to get past the elimination, but that was okay. It wasn’t about succeeding. It was about trying. And this—this thought that my Dad had once said to me—was exactly what I had been searching for when I was talking to Cedric, when he was saying something about the treatments not working; when he insisted that he wasn’t getting any better at all. Nothing in this world was certain. Nothing was a hundred percent sure. But the odds of failing should never get in the way of trying. So whether or not my piece gets chosen, I didn’t care. “I found the flyer,” my mom finally said, breaking my train of thought. She set the knife down and leaned against the counter and looked at me. “You must have dropped it.” I blinked. “The flyer?” “About the contest.” “Oh.” “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” There was a slight tinge of hurt in the way her eyes regarded me. I set the mixing bowl down, trying to figure out what to reply. Her expectant gaze lingered on me and I found myself swallowing, averting my gaze. “I don’t know. It’s just... it felt like something personal.” She seemed to understand. Something in her eyes softened and she dropped her gaze, picking the knife up again. “Well, did you get to finish it?” Looking at her, drinking in that hesitant lilt to her words, I took a deep breath. “Do you… do you want to read it?” Her eyes snapped to mine. I bit down on my lip, fighting the urge to take the words back. Letting her read it felt like letting her see every part of my existence. Unlike the eyes of those judges, of the other people who will read it, my mom knew me. My mom was someone who would look at me, after reading it, and know exactly who I was. When a thankful smile appeared on her face, however, I didn’t regret the offer. We abandoned our tasks for a second as I brought her up to my room. While I waited for my laptop to boot, I looked over my shoulder and saw Mom holding up the photo of me and Dad on my bedside drawer. She set it back down and looked at me, looking both uncomfortable and at home in my room as she walked over to where I was sitting in front of my study table. I stood up so she could sit and read the Word document I left opened for her. I stayed quiet as she read. I counted the seconds down. The minutes. I sat on my bed, waiting for her to finish. Time ticked by soundlessly and I could almost feel something shifting in the air.

After a long stretch of silence, I heard a slight sniffle. Stunned, I looked up at her and found her rubbing her eyes, and for some reason, the sight made my own eyes water. “This is beautiful,” she said, rising from her seat. I couldn’t take my eyes from the tears in her eyes as she walked across the room and sat next to me on my bed, the mattress sinking with her weight. “Your father would have loved it.” I swiped at my eyes, unable to reply. I didn’t know why I was crying or why the tears wouldn’t stop coming. “Your father was a good man,” she said. “I don’t think I can ever stop loving him.” I looked up at her. She placed a hand over my shoulders and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “I will never forget him, and no one—no one—can ever replace him in my heart.” “What about Norman?” I asked her. Her eyes seemed to glitter as she pulled me closer, smoothing out my hair with one hand. “That’s the thing about love, sweetie.” With a shake of her head, she continued, “You never stop loving a person. You never remove them from that special place in your heart. They will always be there, no matter how many people you end up meeting and loving along the way. And that’s not a bad thing.” “It’s not?” She smiled. “It makes us stronger.” --- After eating lunch with Mom—we both agreed to order some pizza—I headed to the hospital. On my way, I decided I’d buy some apples, which had always been Cedric’s favorite fruit. I stopped at one of the smaller grocery stores in town and went straight to the produce section. I always made sure that the apples had no bruises, so I examined them as closely as I could. When I reached for my fourth apple, somebody else happened to reach for the same one. I retracted my hand and plastered a polite smile on my face as I looked at the man beside me. His blue eyes almost made me reel back. “You can take it,” the man said, smiling kindly. Dazed, I blinked, trying not to stare. It was difficult not to. His blue eyes had already taken my attention. There was something about the way he stood that was achingly familiar. And suddenly I knew who it was. He picked a different apple and was already turning on his heel. I couldn’t help but watch him walk away. I tried to remember the contents of his grocery cart. There wasn’t much in it and he didn’t seem like he was shopping for a family of three. He seemed to be buying just a few necessities for one person, like a tourist staying for no more than a few days. I took my phone out and dialed Seth quickly, but I couldn’t reach his cell. I had a flashback of him turning his phone off last night. Was it possible he still hadn’t turned it on? I put my phone back in my pocket. There was no need to call him, right? Besides, I was only making assumptions. I didn’t even know if the man really was his father. Pushing past the thought, I went back to choosing apples, distracting myself with the thought of paying Cedric a visit. --- Cedric looked better. The color of his face was back and he didn’t seem as tired as he did last night. My face automatically broke into a grin as I entered the room.

I managed to convince Philip to go home to at least grab a couple hours of sleep when I got there, so it was only me and Cedric in his room. He was looking out the window, even when he heard me come in. I set the apples on a small shelf beside the bed. He still didn’t turn to look. “Hey,” I said, my grin turning into a slight frown. “Feeling all better?” I craned my neck to look out the window to see what he was staring at, but it was only a view of the parking lot and the small playground the hospital built for some of the children. He took in a deep breath before turning to look at me. “Yeah.” For the first time, I let myself worry about the fact that I told Seth about his condition. I couldn’t think of anything else that could have evoked this almost icy tension between us, and I feared that he might be possibly be mad at me. “Dad told me.” Cedric looked up. “About Seth.” I held a breath. “I’m sorry I told him.” “Sorry?” he echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. “If you hadn’t told him, we might still be waiting for the blood bank to refill their supply.” My thoughts whirred to a stop. “You’re not mad?” There was a thoughtful look on his face. “Why would I be mad?” I clamped my mouth shut. “I’m just—I’m surprised,” he offered. “Of all people, I didn’t expect Seth Everett would end up helping me.” Finally, I took a seat on the chair beside him and tried a smile. “He’s not all bad.” At this, a smile finally made its way to his face. “I guess not.” Cedric and I were playing this kind of complicated puzzle game on his tablet when Hail arrived, all smiles and laughter at the sight of seeing Cedric looking all right. We eventually stopped playing and just ended up talking. We told Hail about last night and how Seth volunteered to donate blood, in which I swear I saw her almost cry. She had always been kind of emotional, but I could kind of understand where she was coming from. Seth’s actions surprised us all and we were more than just thankful for what he’d done for Cedric. Hail announced that she brought a DVD with her, so we put that in on Cedric’s laptop. It was titled The Winter’s Tale, and none of us actually knew what it was all about, so we huddled together to watch it. At first, Hail was horrified when she realized that the main character’s love interest was suffering from a terminal illness. She wanted to stop watching, thinking it was kind of insensitive on Cedric. “Dude,” Cedric said, giving her an incredulous look, “I’m already too intrigued to stop watching now.” So we stuck with it. There was a bed scene, in which the three of us kind of squirmed awkwardly while trying to pretend it wasn’t weird to watch it together, but the movie was actually really good. The story was brilliant (and I might have cried at some point). Somewhere near the end, when another character who happened to have cancer was introduced, Hail wanted to take it out again, but Cedric firmly shook his head. I was glad he did. The ending brought tears to my eyes. When I looked over at Cedric, he was silently crying too. Hail was sniffling, wiping her face with the collar of her shirt. The credits rolled in and we were all a bunch of emotions.

I saw Cedric looking thoughtfully at the screen. “Miracles, huh?” The movie went around the concept of “miracles,” and I found myself holding onto the idea. It was said that each of us were born with a purpose in this universe, and sometimes, that purpose is to be another person’s miracle. I could tell that Cedric liked it too. His glistening eyes caught the rays of the sun spilling from his window, making them seem lighter than their usual dark brown. He was beautiful—so beautiful—it was almost too hard to believe that he was anything but okay. --- I came home early to help my mom prepare dinner. I was chopping some of the salad ingredients as she finished cooking the pasta sauce. We’ve already prepared the garlic toast, but we hadn’t popped those in the oven yet. We decided to do that last so they would still be warm when we eat them. The brownies were already done and out of the oven. We were waiting for them to cool, though I might have already sneaked a few bites here and there. I didn’t know why, but I kind of felt the need to dress up a little, so I did. As I examined myself in the full-body mirror in my room, I caught sight of the picture of me and dad in the reflection. I turned back and picked it up, looking at the wide smile on my dad’s face, and I recalled what Mom had told me earlier. Letting new people in your heart won’t make you love other people less. There will always be room for someone new. Somehow, when the doorbell rang and Mom, who was taking the garlic toasts out of the oven, asked me to open the door, this was the thought that helped me smile genuinely at Norman. “Hi,” he said. He had close-cropped dark hair and straight teeth. He was holding a bottle of wine and his smile had a hint of both confidence and sheepishness. “You must be Kyla.” “Yes,” I said, opening the door even wider to welcome him. “Come on in.” --- The call came just as I finished washing the dishes. My mom and Norman were out on the porch eating what’s left of the brownies. I let them have a few minutes alone, so I volunteered to do the dishes while they were out there. Norman was a physical therapist. He was divorced and he had a nine-year-old daughter and a dog named Hunter. He and Mom met through a friend. They hit it off on their first date and so more dates ensued. He was funny and easy to talk to. At first, he seemed a little uncomfortable, but after a few sips of the wine he brought, he relaxed and I was able to see what my mom had seen in him. He must have been nervous about this too and for some reason, that was a comforting thought. I was still drying my hands with a towel when I heard the unmistakable ringing of my phone from the dining room. I quickly dashed to it, thinking it was Cedric, feeling as if something bad must have happened. Alyssa. I answered, slightly befuddled as to why she was calling at nine in the evening. “Hey.” “Kyla.” She sounded slightly breathless. I knew immediately that while it might not be Cedric, there was something wrong. “What is it?” “Have you seen Seth?”

My heart leapt to my throat. “Is something wrong?” “His mom just called me, asking me if I’d seen him. It seems he hasn’t come home since yesterday.” My grip on the phone tightened. I could feel my heart racing against my ribcage almost painfully. It was difficult to hear what she was saying over the deafening sound of my pulse. “I was wondering if you’d seen him.” Inhale. Exhale. I tried to steady my breathing, to calm my heart down, but panic was already beginning to set in. “I was with him last night.” I told her everything that happened last night, leaving out the part about Cedric’s cancer, but still telling her about the fact that he needed blood and Seth donated some. I told her everything, up the part when we parted at Snowflake. ”I tried calling him earlier this afternoon, but I couldn’t reach him.” “Isabelle says she’d been trying to call him too.” Everything seemed to be rushing at me. My knees were growing weak and I had to brace a hand on the wall to keep myself from crumpling to the floor. “Have you tried the others? Warren, maybe?” “He’s already out looking for him,” she said. “We all are.” I was already grabbing a jacket, looking for my car keys. I had to stop and take calming breaths every now and then as I processed this new piece of information. Was it possible that he had been in an accident? What if he was feeling lightheaded from the blood loss? It was hard to shake off the feeling of dread. If something had happened to him... No. I stumbled out the front porch, taking my mom and Norman by surprise. I was wrestling into my jacket as I walked along, already trying to catch my breath. “What’s wrong?” Mom asked me. “Seth,” I replied. Only when I said the words did I feel the full impact of the situation. “Seth’s missing.”

hmm,nyc writeup ur stories r always amazing nd breathtaking

Nice

hmmmmm........ Has Seth split those secret to his dad? Where could he be?

@Sophia I would get them ready now BuT you know I can't go with them without you.

Chapter 41 “We already checked the cemetery,” Warren said through the phone. I had my earphones on and I was talking to him through a call. “Negative.” Disappointment hit me harder than I thought. I was the one who suggested the cemetery, thinking he might have gone to visit Sam’s grave or something. I would have gone there myself, but Warren was closer, so I just circled the area around Snowflake. We’ve already been searching for almost thirty minutes, but there still no sign of Seth anywhere. I would have thought he’d visit Sam’s grave or something like that. I was growing more and more frantic as the minutes ticked by. The first place I tried was Snowflake. I even asked the girl behind the register if she’d seen him, but she simply shook her head. It was the only place I could think of that would have mattered to him. I tried some of the convenience stores, looking around for a bit, trying to ask some of the people if they’d seen him. No sign. The same was going for the others. Dan and Lily were looking together. Warren picked up Alyssa and Justin, who both decided to help, and they’d been looking for him in some of the parties they’d heard of. I’d checked some of the bars and clubs, but I couldn’t find his car anywhere. “Okay,” I finally replied to Warren. “I’ll try Cloudland next.” “We’ll meet you there.” I took a sharp left, trying to keep my head clear. The last thing I needed was to end up in an accident. I’d only been able to convince Mom to let me go after a lot of talking, in which I wasted fifteen goddamn minutes. “Mom,” I had begged her, exasperated. “He’s missing. I can’t just sit here and not do anything.” “I’m worried about him too, Kyla.” She was speaking in the same tone I was. “But some of his friends are already looking for him. Maybe you should—” “Mom.” I gave her withering stare. “I need to find him. I need to.” She was already opening her mouth, shaking her head, but Norman placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you don’t find him before midnight,” Norman interjected, exchanging a look with Mom. It seemed like he was asking for permission to say continue. “Then tell his parents that they should alert the police. And you and your friends should head back.” I gave him a grateful look and waited for my mom’s go signal. I looked at her expectantly, eyes pleading, and finally, she asked, “Do you want us to help? Norman and I can take my car.” I shook my head no, but I was thankful for the offer, reminding myself to thank Norman for sticking up for me. I already told Hail about the situation, asking her if he’d seen him. She didn’t. She also asked Cedric, just in case Seth might have dropped by for a visit. We were running low on any other assumptions, so we didn’t completely rule this out, no matter how ridiculous it seemed, but there was no sign of him there too. When I reached Cloudland, I haphazardly parked at the edge of the parking lot. I scanned the area for his car, but it was a weekend and there were too many. I walked across the lot, looking left and right, just in case I find Seth’s car by a stroke of luck, but all I found was Warren’s van. When I got to the entrance, Alyssa was already waiting for me, looking as ragged as I felt. I hurriedly paid for the entrance and broke to a run towards Alyssa. The lady behind the register cried a cheerful “Have fun!” at me, but I merely ignored her.

“His car isn’t here,” I told her. “Might as well try,” she replied and I heard the unspoken words behind them. We were running out of ideas. We searched every place we could. I’d been hoping to see him somewhere near the Ferris wheel, since riding it was easily the most memorable part of the night we went here. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere. We all met up somewhere in the entrance, sweaty despite the temperature. I could feel the slight panic in all of us. Even Justin’s usual comical attitude was slightly subdued. Warren met my gaze as they walked closer to me and Alyssa. I shook my head, and he averted his gaze, looking defeated. “That fucker,” Alyssa said, but there was no bite in her words. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “Making us worry like this. If we find him, I’m going to fucking kill him.” “When,” I found myself saying. “When we find him.” Slowly, they nodded. I knew panicking wouldn’t do me any good, so I tried to calm myself. I shouldn’t let my emotions get in the way of my thinking. Where else could I hope to find him? While I tried to think of more options, Justin suggested that they should check some of their friends who live in the next town, just in case Seth decided to go there. They were discussing the pros and cons of this idea when it hit me. “I’m going to check the beach,” I told them and they agreed. We parted ways with nothing but a quick see you later and a promise to call when we find him. --- It was my last guess. I couldn’t think of anywhere else. I’d been growing more and more desperate. How could I not know where he’d go? I was the one who knew his secrets. I was the one knew the real him. I might not be the one who’d known him the longest, but Alyssa said it herself. He tells me things that he doesn’t tell anyone. If anything, I should be able to find him. If there was anyone out there who could figure him out, it was supposed to be me. Me. After all the things he’d done for me, after all the trouble he’d gone through just to help me, I felt stupid for not being able to do the same. My thoughts were like an all-consuming fire. I was angry at him for walking away last night, for not telling me about what had happened. I was angry at him for pulling a stunt like this. But mostly I was angry at myself for not seeing it coming. Maybe if I tried to talk to him more. Maybe if I insisted to drop him off at home. All the maybes were tugging at me, tearing me apart until all I could think of were the words It’s all my fault. If anything had happened to him, I wasn’t going to forgive myself. I would never be able to forgive myself. When I reached the beach, I immediately got out. I parked somewhere near the area we’d chosen back then. Since it was a weekend and it wasn’t two in the freaking morning, there were more people milling around, and I realized there was a beach party in full swing to my left. A lot of cars were parked because of the damned party and it was too dark to make out any of them, so I didn’t bother looking for Seth’s. I set foot towards the party, hearing the bass thumping as I neared the source.

It was freezing. How the fuck could they have a beach party at this temperature? I was glad I had my jacket, but I was beginning to regret not switching the dress I was wearing for something warmer. I looked around the crowd, trying to spot a mop of dirty blonde hair somewhere in the throng of intoxicated people. Then I saw him. His back was facing me, but his hair was unmistakable despite the lack of proper lighting. I pushed past people to get to him, even getting a few angry calls at my way. I ignored them. All I could think of was that I had to get to Seth. I didn’t hesitate to break up conversations or make-out sessions or get in the way of people taking pictures. Finally, I squeezed past a pair of guys chugging some beer. “Seth,” I called out, reaching for his shoulder. When he turned around, I stumbled back. It wasn’t him. Suddenly, the music was too loud. There was too little space in the midst of the crowd and I was blinded by tears swimming in my vision. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t fucking him. Where was he? “Hey,” the guy said, looking at me worriedly, “are you all right?” I was starting to feel dizzy from everything—the worrying, the panic, the desperation, the stupid fucking disappointment when I thought I’d seen him when it wasn’t fucking him. I heard someone sob. I realized it was me. Pushing past the crowd once more, I heard the guy call after me again, trying to make sure if I was all right. The wind kept blowing my hair to my face, sending a gusty chill to my exposed legs as I walked through the crowd. I pinned my hair back with a hand once I got to the edge of the party, walking forward until I got to a higher vantage point. I scanned the crowd, not letting myself give up, but there were still no signs of him. Another sob escaped my lips and for a moment, I felt weak. T had to keep myself calm. I had to keep the anxiety at bay. I took another shuddering breath and braced myself. I will find him. I picked up my pace and ran the length of the shore, looking for any signs of him. There was nothing. I was at the farthest edge of the shore before a rocky terrain cut off my path. There was no one near. I almost screamed in frustration, in anger, in sadness. I almost let myself stop there to cry, to give up. Almost. Instead, I tried to think. Even I was running out of ideas. Where else would he be? Where? I went back to my car, the feeling of dread now stronger than ever. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed until I saw the time clock on the dashboard blinking at me. It was almost midnight already. I turned the engine on, but I stayed there. My hands were on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from my tight grip. I struggled to keep myself from crying. I struggled to keep my emotions from spilling out, knowing that they weren’t going to help me. I took my phone out and called Alyssa.

“Well?” she said, sounding hopeful, and it was enough to let me know that they didn’t have much luck either. “Nothing,” I replied. There was silence. “I’m going to do another drive-by,” I said. I heard her take a breath. “Okay.” I spent a few more minutes driving around, revisiting Snowflake and all the other streets closest to it. The minutes were ticking by, closer to midnight, and I was feeling less and less confident about being able to find him on our own. Soon, he had said. I held onto our agreement to talk soon. I refused to think of the worst, to think too much of the sad smiles he’d given me, the way his eyes had gone cold when he got that call. I was clinging to the word soon, because it was the only promise he had given me regarding the future. It was already nearing midnight, just twelve more minutes, when I made a call to tell Alyssa and the others about my supposed curfew. As much as I fought to keep the emotion from my voice, it lay thick with a certain kind of sadness. I let them down. I let Seth down. There was a weight settling over me as the disappointment continued to rush in. It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything but the fact that I wanted to find Seth; that I wanted to see him, but Mom was already calling me, probably to remind me about the agreement, but I didn’t answer the call. I just let it ring, squeezing in another drive-by, before giving up and heading home. I pulled into our driveway, but I didn’t immediately get out of the car. I saw the curtain from our window shift, demanding my attention, and I looked up to meet my mom’s worried eyes. I shook my head. I wasn’t close enough to see any shift in the expression on her face before she disappeared behind the curtain. Seconds later, the door opened. Finally, I turned the engine off and got out, my legs shaky. “No luck?” I shook my head. It was then that she pulled me to a hug and I was more than just happy for the gesture of affection. I threw my hands around her and reveled in her touch, comforted by the way she rubbed my back and murmured soothing words to me. “It’s going to be all right,” she said. I closed my eyes, trying to believe in her because I refused to believe otherwise. “It might not be anything too serious.” When she released me, I nodded, pursing my lips. “You’ve had a long night,” she said. “Get some sleep.” Why couldn’t I find him? Why? He was always the one finding me—always the one making sure I was all right. He never had much trouble figuring me out, almost as if he was one step ahead of me. If he ran away again, where would he go, if not here? “Wait,” I called to Mom. She stopped, just before stepping into the house. “I’ll call Alyssa.” She nodded, looking at me as if she was searching my face for something, before entering the house, leaving the door open for me. Alyssa answered before the third ring. “Sarah’s old house,” I said in lieu of a hello. I turned around, looking longingly at my car. I didn’t want to give up yet. “Have you been to Sarah’s old house?” There was rustling on the other line. “We’ve been there.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “Oh.” “Sorry,” she said. “No sign of him.” I swallowed, already feeling childish for letting myself hope. \ I thought I knew him. I thought I knew the real him. I thought I could figure this problem out. I knew I could. Something across the street shimmered, catching my eye, and I looked over. I squinted in the darkness, trying to make out what I should be looking at. I almost dropped my phone. It was a bike. “Alyssa?” I took a deep breath. “I think I know where he is.” --- I think I should have been scared. The picnic ground looked different at night without all the other people running around. Even the trees looked creepy, like they might have come out of some story book about wicked lands and monster trees. For some reason, I wasn’t afraid. It was silent, save for the faint sound of crickets in the trees. I looked around, trying to recall as much as I could of that morning when Seth took me out on a picnic. Mom almost didn’t let me go when I told her that I knew where he was. She shook her head firmly, saying I shouldn’t even be out so late, but there must have been something in the way I looked at her that changed her mind, so she let me. Before I left, she also told me something that took me by surprise. “I know you’ll find him,” she said. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words until she said them. I nodded, climbed into my car and set forth to see if my new guess was right. Now that I was here, though, feeling my way through the dark and uneven path, I was beginning to doubt myself. I’d been walking aimlessly for around a few minutes already but I still haven’t found any signs of Seth. I tried to recall that tree, in that area where we set our blanket, but my memory was hazy and there was only so much I could do without adequate lighting. If he wasn’t here, then I didn’t know where else he would go. He’d told me, that morning on our picnic, that he and his family used to come here, before everything changed; before his family started to fall apart. If his family really did fall apart completely, wouldn’t he have gone here? But what if I was wrong? What if he really wasn’t here at all? What if I’d only led myself to believe in the possibility that I figured him out because I was so desperate to prove that I could? I turned, feeling a different wave of disgust settle over me, realizing it had been pointless to go all the way here. Then suddenly, something caught my eye. I took a careful step closer. My breathing quickened. “Seth,” I called out. The figure under the tree tensed, shifting slowly. When he came into view, I was momentarily paralyzed from everything I was feeling. Relief. Joy. Anger. Love. It was all there. I threw my hands around him, hugging him as tightly as I could. I was afraid he’d disappear if I loosened my grip on him, so I didn’t. I held onto him, trying to keep myself from bursting at the seams, and hoped he would never ever, ever slip from my embrace.

Uhmmm....I just felt a little drop of rain from my eye......so much pathetic.so emotional........ Its great Kyla doesn't give up.....She had realy work herself up, if she doesn't find him there, then she might lose control while driving back at home....... Holla Alyssa & Others about it(that you have found Seth) immediately..don't let them still waste their time much.

I can't even control my tears again, really tounching, Seth really ve a good heart even with his problem he still willing to help and I love you for dat. at Ky God is ur strength.

I heard a sob, and for a second, I thought it came from me. It didn’t. His chest was shaking against mine as he finally wrapped his arms around me too, hugging me close with the same urgency. I let him engulf me in his warmth, taking in the familiarity of his embrace. I let him cry, holding back my own tears because I knew one of us had to be strong. “You’re here,” he said, almost to himself than me. He pulled away, his shaking hands finding their way to my face. I could almost taste his tears as he held me, resting his forehead on mine as he let his eyes flutter close. “You’re here.” I lifted my hands and brought them to his face, prompting him to open his eyes. “I am,” I murmured softly, willing him to see that I was telling the truth “I’m here. We’re here.” --- “How long have you been here?” I asked him, trying to search his eyes. We were sitting under the tree now. I didn’t care about the grass stains my dress would acquire from sitting directly on the grass, right next to Seth. All I could think of was that I was glad I’d found him. I was glad that he was all right. When I called Alyssa to let her know I’d found him, she was so happy she started crying. He was playing with a blade of grass with his hands, avoiding my searching gaze. He wasn’t crying anymore, but there was still a hint of his sadness in the air. “All day,” he replied. I let out a breath. “Where did you sleep last night?” “The car. In Snowflake’s parking lot.” “Jesus.” I couldn’t help but shake my head violently at this information. “Have you even eaten?” “Come on,” I said. “We still have some leftover pasta at my house.” He ignored me. “Why did you look for me?” “Are you kidding me?” I shifted from my seat, moving to the spot right across him so that I could meet his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why wouldn’t I look for you?” He stared back. I couldn’t quite make out the emotion in his eyes. There was no reply. Deep inside, I knew he wasn’t waiting for me to find him: He was waiting for his family. For Isabelle, maybe. Or possibly his dad. I swallowed. “Seth, we were all looking for you. We were all worried about you. You fucking scared me to death.” I saw something shift in his eyes and my heart tugged at the sight, spreading warmth from my chest to the tips of my fingers. I moved closer and grabbed his hand. “Isabelle’s worried sick about you,” I told him, “and so is everyone else.” He looked away. I waited for him to say anything, so I stared silently. I studied his unkempt hair and the dark bags under his eyes. After a long stretch of silence, he spoke. “I’m sorry.” A smile made its way to my lips. “Save that for Alyssa. I think she’s planning to kill you the moment she sees you.” My heart lurched at the sight of his lips tugging into a slow smile. “Yeah?” “She’ll probably make it a slow and painful death,” I said.

“I don’t expect anything less.” We shared a look, both of us smiling. I was so, so glad to see that the smile reached his eyes. That he was still able to do so genuinely. But I knew I had to confront him somehow, so I dropped my smile and turned to him. “Why didn’t you go home, Seth?” His smile dissipated as he looked away, clenching his jaw as he picked up a twig. “I don’t have a home,” he replied. “Not anymore.” I bit my lower lip. It was too painful to hear him speak with this voice, full of raw emotion and grief. He sounded like a vulnerable child who couldn’t find his way back home. “Are your mom and dad getting a divorce?” He inhaled sharply, snapping his gaze to mine. I didn’t flinch. He studied me for a while before opening his mouth to reply. “Yeah.” “Is that why you’re upset?” I asked him. “I know it sounds stupid.” He looked completely torn by his own emotions. “I know it is stupid. I saw it coming. I knew it was coming. And I understand that it’s the only way things could have ended with them, but…” He shook his head and I squeezed his hands, wrapping them both in mine to keep them from trembling. His eyes were raw with pain, but he forced himself to continue. “It’s stupid, but I think a part of me still believed that they could work things out. That they could stay together.” Silence aired as I tried to think of something to say; something that would make him feel better; something that could take away the pain in his eyes and voice and heart. “Seth.” I squeezed his hands. “It’s okay to feel that way.” He shook his head vehemently, not daring to look me in the eye. “It’s not. It’s not okay. I should know better. I’m seventeen, for fuck’s sake, and yet—” “So what?” I cut him off, squeezing his hands harder. “Everyone gets hurt. Even if you’re older now, even if you know better, even if you understand, you can’t keep yourself from hurting. And that’s okay.” He looked at me, and there was electricity in the way we both looked into each other’s eyes. I wondered if he could feel it. I wondered if he was just as afraid of it as I was. I wondered if it would lead to anything at all. My unspoken questions were answered when he dropped his gaze, breaking the connection. If there was even one. “Kyla” he said quietly. He pried his hands away from mine and something about this gesture stung. I pulled back, just slightly, and tried to pretend that the stabbing pain in my chest didn’t exist. “You make it so hard not to fall in love with you.” I bit the insides of my cheek so hard I could feel a numbing pain. “And I do want something to happen between us,” he continued, but all I could hear is the rushing of my blood with every beat of my heart, “but I have to sort things out first.” “You don’t,” I found myself saying, “you don’t have to do it alone.” When he met my pleading eyes, his lips were already tugged into another of his sad smiles. “Ky.” The way he said my name made my stomach drop.

Uhmmm.........My own stomach is even dropping some pounding sound.

hmmmm.. ..I love dis story

I heard a sob, and for a second, I thought it came from me. It didn’t. His chest was shaking against mine as he finally wrapped his arms around me too, hugging me close with the same urgency. I let him engulf me in his warmth, taking in the familiarity of his embrace. I let him cry, holding back my own tears because I knew one of us had to be strong. “You’re here,” he said, almost to himself than me. He pulled away, his shaking hands finding their way to my face. I could almost taste his tears as he held me, resting his forehead on mine as he let his eyes flutter close. “You’re here.” I lifted my hands and brought them to his face, prompting him to open his eyes. “I am,” I murmured softly, willing him to see that I was telling the truth “I’m here. We’re here.” --- “How long have you been here?” I asked him, trying to search his eyes. We were sitting under the tree now. I didn’t care about the grass stains my dress would acquire from sitting directly on the grass, right next to Seth. All I could think of was that I was glad I’d found him. I was glad that he was all right. When I called Alyssa to let her know I’d found him, she was so happy she started crying. He was playing with a blade of grass with his hands, avoiding my searching gaze. He wasn’t crying anymore, but there was still a hint of his sadness in the air. “All day,” he replied. I let out a breath. “Where did you sleep last night?” “The car. In Snowflake’s parking lot.” “Jesus.” I couldn’t help but shake my head violently at this information. “Have you even eaten?” “Come on,” I said. “We still have some leftover pasta at my house.” He ignored me. “Why did you look for me?” “Are you kidding me?” I shifted from my seat, moving to the spot right across him so that I could meet his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why wouldn’t I look for you?” He stared back. I couldn’t quite make out the emotion in his eyes. There was no reply. Deep inside, I knew he wasn’t waiting for me to find him: He was waiting for his family. For Isabelle, maybe. Or possibly his dad. I swallowed. “Seth, we were all looking for you. We were all worried about you. You fucking scared me to death.” I saw something shift in his eyes and my heart tugged at the sight, spreading warmth from my chest to the tips of my fingers. I moved closer and grabbed his hand. “Isabelle’s worried sick about you,” I told him, “and so is everyone else.” He looked away. I waited for him to say anything, so I stared silently. I studied his unkempt hair and the dark bags under his eyes. After a long stretch of silence, he spoke. “I’m sorry.” A smile made its way to my lips. “Save that for Alyssa. I think she’s planning to kill you the moment she sees you.” My heart lurched at the sight of his lips tugging into a slow smile. “Yeah?” “She’ll probably make it a slow and painful death,” I said.

“I don’t expect anything less.” We shared a look, both of us smiling. I was so, so glad to see that the smile reached his eyes. That he was still able to do so genuinely. But I knew I had to confront him somehow, so I dropped my smile and turned to him. “Why didn’t you go home, Seth?” His smile dissipated as he looked away, clenching his jaw as he picked up a twig. “I don’t have a home,” he replied. “Not anymore.” I bit my lower lip. It was too painful to hear him speak with this voice, full of raw emotion and grief. He sounded like a vulnerable child who couldn’t find his way back home. “Are your mom and dad getting a divorce?” He inhaled sharply, snapping his gaze to mine. I didn’t flinch. He studied me for a while before opening his mouth to reply. “Yeah.” “Is that why you’re upset?” I asked him. “I know it sounds stupid.” He looked completely torn by his own emotions. “I know it is stupid. I saw it coming. I knew it was coming. And I understand that it’s the only way things could have ended with them, but…” He shook his head and I squeezed his hands, wrapping them both in mine to keep them from trembling. His eyes were raw with pain, but he forced himself to continue. “It’s stupid, but I think a part of me still believed that they could work things out. That they could stay together.” Silence aired as I tried to think of something to say; something that would make him feel better; something that could take away the pain in his eyes and voice and heart. “Seth.” I squeezed his hands. “It’s okay to feel that way.” He shook his head vehemently, not daring to look me in the eye. “It’s not. It’s not okay. I should know better. I’m seventeen, for fuck’s sake, and yet—” “So what?” I cut him off, squeezing his hands harder. “Everyone gets hurt. Even if you’re older now, even if you know better, even if you understand, you can’t keep yourself from hurting. And that’s okay.” He looked at me, and there was electricity in the way we both looked into each other’s eyes. I wondered if he could feel it. I wondered if he was just as afraid of it as I was. I wondered if it would lead to anything at all. My unspoken questions were answered when he dropped his gaze, breaking the connection. If there was even one. “Kyla” he said quietly. He pried his hands away from mine and something about this gesture stung. I pulled back, just slightly, and tried to pretend that the stabbing pain in my chest didn’t exist. “You make it so hard not to fall in love with you.” I bit the insides of my cheek so hard I could feel a numbing pain. “And I do want something to happen between us,” he continued, but all I could hear is the rushing of my blood with every beat of my heart, “but I have to sort things out first.” “You don’t,” I found myself saying, “you don’t have to do it alone.” When he met my pleading eyes, his lips were already tugged into another of his sad smiles. “Ky.” The way he said my name made my stomach drop.

I almost dreaded what he was about to say. “I’m leaving.” --- I looked at him in stunned silence. My mind scrambled to understand what he had just said, struggling to connect the dots. Even when the words started to sink in, I refused to acknowledge them. I convinced myself that I simply misheard him; that my exhausted mind was only playing tricks on me. It just didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. He took my silence as a cue to go on. “Dad’s going back to New York at the end of the week.” Even as he said the words, I couldn’t make myself believe them. “And I’m coming with him.” I started to shake my head, feeling a newfound sense of panic setting in. “No.” I could hear the frantic note in the way I spoke. “No, he can’t force you to go with him. Seth, he can’t.” At first, silence, and then the words, “He’s not forcing me.” ”Is it Isabelle? Is she—is she trying to get rid of you or—or—” “No, Ky.” His voice was nothing but a mere murmur, but his words sliced swiftly through the silence. “It’s my choice.”

uhmmm.....what next?

Can some1 pls tell me itz jez a story??? I need 2 stop crying over dis na... It feels so real

So seth is going wen kyla need him most

Speechless!

Chapter 42 If it had been any Saturday morning, I would have been lazing around in bed reading the books I recently bought with Hail last Wednesday. Then I would probably head over to Cedric’s so we could watch some movies and grieve over the fact that he was going to start chemo the next day. Then when I come home, I would probably watch some sucky reality TV Show with Mom while eating some Ben and Jerry’s straight from the tub. But it wasn’t just any Saturday morning. “God, Justin, can you please just hurry the fuck up?” Alyssa shouted as she rolled the car window down. From the backseat, I raised an eyebrow at this and met Warren’s eyes on the rearview mirror. Warren twisted around to give me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. She hasn’t had her coffee yet.” I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head a little. “And you’ve been with her for half an hour already?” Alyssa turned back to look at us with a glare. Huffing, she said, “I’m right here.” “It’s not exactly hard to forget that, considering that you keep—” Alyssa punched him on the shoulder before he could even continue. I could tell he was about to say something about this, but then the door to my right opened and Justin quickly slid in. The scent of his cologne immediately filled the car, making my eyes water almost immediately. “Holy shit, did you, like, bathe yourself in your cologne or something?” Alyssa said. “You stink.” “Duuude, what’s up with her?” Justin eyed me and Warren, pointing at Alyssa with a hand. Warren merely shrugged in a Don’t even ask gesture as he pulled out the driveway. “How can you guys not freak out?” she all but shrieked at us, crossing her arms over her chest. “Seth is leaving. In, like, an hour. And we’re never going to see him again for who knows how long.” At this, we all fell silent. It’s been a week since Seth did his little disappearing act; a week since I found out about the fact that he was leaving for New York. That night, I managed to force him to come with me to Jim’s Burgers so we can at least put some food in that empty stomach of his. It wasn’t the best fast-food joint out there, but it was open 24/7, so we figured it would have to do. We took my car instead of his, which was parked on the other side the picnic ground. He was silent for most of the ride, which bothered me more than it should have, but once we got to Jim’s and I successfully convinced him to eat two burgers instead of one, I said the only two words I could think of. “Question game.” I wasn’t sure, but I swear it seemed like he chewed his food slowly on purpose before swallowing and agreeing to it. “It’s your turn,” I reminded him. “I know.” I waited for his question. He was looking at anything but me, a thoughtful expression on his face. I took it as an opportunity to study his face more closely. Back at the picnic ground, the shadows managed to hide much of his exhaustion, but in the bright fluorescent light of Jim’s, I realized he was more affected with his parents’ looming divorce than I had originally thought. After a prolonged silence, he finally took a deep breath and brought his gaze to mine. “You said you like me.”

I almost fell off my chair as the heat rose to my cheeks. An amused smile made its way to his face as he took in my flustered appearance. “When did you start having feelings for me?” “Really, Seth? Really?” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Kyla. Really.” I sat up a little straighter as I tried to think back to all the moments we’d spent together. I couldn’t pinpoint when exactly I developed feelings for him. I remember realizing that I was falling for him that one night when we had out midnight picnic (a.k.a. the night of the menstruating foot) but I must have started liking him even before that. “Well?” I mulled over the thought for a few more moments, trying to make my blush go away at the blatant acknowledgement of my feelings for him. I scoured over every corner of my brain, trying to find that one moment when I inevitably started to like him. “The night at Cloudland,” I finally said. “I think.” He raised an eyebrow at this, seemingly surprised. “Really?” “Maybe even before that,” I admitted, feeling my blush intensify. I expected him to look smug. I expected him to make fun of me because of this. I expected him to laugh or say something narcissistic. What I didn’t expect was for him to look away guiltily and say, “I’m sorry for leading you on.” I blinked stupidly at him. “I mean,” he added hastily, “it’s not that I did it intentionally or anything. But I was attracted to you from the very start, so my actions must have at least been—” “You were?” “Were what?” “Attracted to me. From the very start.” And I thought I couldn’t get any redder than I already was. When I looked at Seth’s face, though, I realized he was just as red as I was. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Do you really think I forgot to bring a pen that day? It was the first day of school, Kyla.” I blinked, feeling like an idiot for not having seen this before, and looked away. Another awkward silence ensued, making the matter seem much more pathetic now, so I was glad when he cleared his throat again and said, “I’m sorry.” There were so many things I could have said to him right then, but the conversation felt like déjà vu. We’ve had it before and talking about it again wouldn’t change a thing. He was leaving. We were never going to happen. It was over before it even had the chance to begin. “Is it my turn?” I said instead. He nodded. “I guess.” I already had a question in mind earlier, but for some reason, I didn’t launch into it. His question sparked my own curiosity about his (semi-existent) feelings for me. “You said you like me too. And that you were attracted to me before.” He cringed, keeping his gaze low. “Uhh.” He tugged at his collar. “Yeah.” “When did you have feelings for me?” His expression softened into a wistful one as he tilted his head to the side. He didn’t even hesitate when he answered. “At the bookstore. When you told me about your dad.”

It caught me off guard. He was so sure of his answer it seemed like he’d been thinking about it for a while. The thought only made my cheeks burn even more. “When you… told me how you used to read to him. It felt like the first time I saw the real you.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “And the real you is beautiful.” I sucked in a breath. It felt like that night had happened years ago. After everything we’ve been through, it almost seemed like a distant dream; a memory from another life. When I didn’t reply, he said, “My turn.” I nodded. He gave me a sheepish look. “So, I was wondering— why?” “What do you mean ‘why’?” “Why do you like me?” It felt like an answer with so many obvious reasons it didn’t even need to be asked. But he asked it anyway. And the blushing was back full force. I didn’t have any idea how he could always make me feel like a pathetic infatuated girl. Maybe because I kind of was, but whatever. I huffed. “Well, it’s definitely not because of your vanity.” He nudged me with his foot under the table. “Come on. Just say it.” I gave him a withering look, silently pleading for him to take his question back, but he simply stared back at me with an amused look. “I really hate you,” I grumbled. “Right.” He smiled knowingly at me, raising both his eyebrows. “Hate. That’s totally what you feel about me.” Still, I couldn’t find the words to answer this simple question, so I just continued to give him my kind-of- pleading-but-also-cold-glare, in the hopes that he’d change his mind. “Tell you what,” he said. “Write me a letter about it.” “What? That’s not necessary.” “Please?” There was a change in his tone. He sounded less mocking and more serious and when I looked at him, I realized there was something more to this request. “Give it to me before I leave.” The mention of his leaving brought me back to reality. I’d almost forgotten it, mostly because I refused to acknowledge it, but he tossed it out so carelessly that I almost flinched. “All right,” I agreed, because really, how could I say no to that? “Does that mean it’s my turn again?” “I guess so.” I took in a deep breath and tried not to look away from him, focusing on his blue eyes, as if turning away would change his answer. “Why are you leaving?” If the question bothered him the slightest bit, he didn’t show it. In fact, it almost seemed like expected it. He shifted in his seat, sitting back a little, before looking up at the ceiling in what seemed like a defeated gesture. “Honestly?” He dragged his eyes back to mine. “I don’t even know.” A feeling of hope surged through me and I instinctively leaned forward. “Then don’t.” I could feel myself taking all my walls down, sewing my heart on my sleeve, and if he looked closely, he would have seen all of me, at that moment, without the mask, without the shield—nothing but my real feelings for him. “You don’t’ have to leave.” He shook his head.

“Please.” There was a pause, in which I continued to look him in the eye, still completely unguarded, and I hoped he was considering this—that he would tell me okay, I won’t leave and everything would be all right again. I kept waiting for him to say them, hoping to hear those words, wishing he would stay if I just begged him to. But the sigh he let out was enough to extinguish all hopes of that. “I’m sorry,” he said and I could hear his sincerity behind the words. “It’s not that I hate Mom—I could never hate her for real—but I can’t help feel like…” He shook his head and dropped his gaze. “Like this thing with Philip ruined our family, and I know I shouldn’t put it against her, but… what else can I do? I need—I need some time away.” After that, I found it hard to talk anymore, so I kept quiet, afraid I might end up crying if I tried to speak. As if we had an unspoken agreement, he decided not to say anything too. Silence engulfed us, anchored by the weight of his pending absence, until it was impossible to even attempt having a conversation. After that, I drove us back to the picnic ground to go back to his car. We didn’t talk much during the ride, but before he I let him out of the car, I made him promise to head home and not disappear again. I even threatened to follow him all the way to his house just in case. He laughed when I told him. “That won’t be necessary. I promise I’m going straight home.” “You better keep that promise,” I told him. I wanted to say more, but he was already nodding and getting out of the car before I could. It’s been a week since that night, and while I wish I could say I’d been spending more time with Seth lately to make up for his absence from here on, I hadn’t. We didn’t go back to sitting with them at lunch and while we hadn’t gone as far as avoiding each other on purpose, neither of us exactly sought out the other’s company. Tuesday afternoon, we bumped into each other after school and it wasn’t painfully awkward or anything. We only had a quick conversation before I headed to the hospital to visit Cedric and Seth was heading to his Dad’s hotel. I asked him how things were holding up with Isabelle and his dad. “Well,” he said with a slight shrug, “not good. Definitely not good. But things’ll pass, right?” Ever since the night he disappeared, he started to seem more like the Seth I knew. He looked more rested than he had since the night we called off the fake relationship and started not talking. I guess he started to accept his parents’ divorce better now. Last night, they had another cookout. Like a goodbye party for Seth. I was invited to go, but I refused. I wish I could say why exactly I didn’t want to go, but to be honest, I didn’t know either. There had been, of course, a lot of persuasion and even a bit of blackmail (from Alyssa, who else?), but none of them had successfully convinced me to go, and instead I spent the night locked in my room to write my letter to Seth. At first, I only wanted to write what he asked me to —just the things I liked about him—but once I started writing, I realized I couldn’t do that without telling him all the other things I wanted to tell him too. I could almost feel the weight of the letter in my bag as we all piled up in Warren’s van. I wasn’t sure how it was decided that we all head to the airport in one car but I didn’t question it. I wasn’t sure if I could even focus enough to drive without conjuring up an illusion of Seth staying back and deciding not to leave after all, so I was glad for the ride.

Dan and Lily, for some reason, weren’t riding with us though. When I questioned Justin about this, he just shrugged and said Duuude, they suck and that was that. The last person we picked up had been Rev. During the ride, we experienced more of Alyssa’s coffee-deprived remarks, which only amused me more than they probably should have, and Justin and I decided to pass time by playing some competitive quiz-type game on his phone. “Don’t you feel like something’s different with Alyssa?” I asked him under my breath. “Oh, there is, all right.” Intrigued, I raised an eyebrow at this. “What is it?” Justin grinned. “Warren brought a girl with him last night at the cookout.” If I had been drinking something at that moment, I probably would have spit it out in an oddly comical way. “What?” “Yep. He did.” He lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I think Al’s finally realizing that they can’t be in this limbo phase forever.” “Limbo phase?” “You know.” He shrugged. “They obviously still like each other, but they’re idiots and they don’t realize it at all. The possibility that Warren might start dating someone else is probably letting her see things in a new light.” I didn’t expect Justin to be this observant. Of all of us, I would have pegged him to be that stereotypical guy who didn’t understand much of serious relationships. He just didn’t seem like the kind of person who would have cared. “So, this girl,” I said. “Is Warren serious about her?” He didn’t even look up from his phone’s screen. “Nah. Dude, he’s still in love with Al. He’s probably just trying to let go because he thinks she’s not interested. But if Alyssa isn’t careful, he might really end up being serious about it.” “And you know this because…” Finally, he looked up to shoot me a small grin. “Contrary to popular belief, I know a lot about things about relationships.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “How, exactly, did you become an expert on this?” “I have an older sister,” he replied with a slight grimace. “I’ve been through many of her breakups because apparently, she thinks of me as a younger sister.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this, imagining Justin trying to comfort her big sister. The image was just too impossible to imagine, but I took his word for it, seeing as his observational skills were superb. “So what’s the secret with dealing with breakups, then?” “Duuude, there’s no secret behind it. It’s all really simple, actually. You break up, you cry, you get pissed, you hate, you stop crying, and you move on.” He gave me another lazy shrug. “Not necessarily in that order. And I know it’s not as easy as it sounds, but I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m saying it’s simple.” “You got all this from helping your older sister glue the pieces of her heart back together?” “Now that’s where you’re mistaken,” he said, a ghost of a smile plastered on his face. “When you get your heart broken, other people can help you pick the pieces up, but only you can glue the pieces back together.” I stared at Justin in shock, still not used to the fact that he knew so much about this.

And I realized he was right. No matter how many people tell you to move on, it won’t happen until you decide to move on. “That’s why Seth doesn’t want to act on his feelings for you.” I flushed. “What?” “This whole moving to New York thing.” He made a vague gesture with a hand. “This is Seth gluing the pieces back. Took him a while to get to it, but that’s only because it took a while before someone came along and helped him pick the pieces up.” “You think I helped him?” This time, he lowered his phone to give me a sincere smile. “I know you did.” --- I didn’t know why but seeing Seth still managed to make me feel the butterflies in my stomach. We were still a few yards away from him as we reached the drop-off area, but his tall frame stood out among the crowd. There weren’t a lot of people in the airport, seeing as it was an odd time of the year to go anywhere, but we still had to squeeze past a few people to get to where Seth was standing with his phone pressed against his ear. I trailed behind them, still unsure about how I would act around Seth. If anything, it felt like my farewell letter to him was slowing me down. It was stuffed safely in my bag, sealed in an envelope, and it might as well have rocks in it because I couldn’t forget its presence. Giving it to him felt too final. And as embarrassing it was to admit, I poured my heart out on that letter with words I would never have courage to say to him in person. I couldn’t even make myself re-read it because I cringed as soon as I’d written each word down. It was only when we finally got closer did I realize that Isabelle was sitting a few feet away from where Seth was standing, having what seemed like a strained but civil conversation with the man I met at the grocery store a week ago. “Hurry up.” Alyssa suddenly grabbed my hand and jerked me forward, nearly making me trip over some dude’s suitcase. “Oh. Sorry. I’m just—I can’t— I don’t think I can do this. Seth’s leaving. He’s fucking leaving.” Hearing the words make my heart sink further down my stomach. I didn’t even know why it still bothered me. I’d already written a farewell letter and we were standing in the airport for fuck’s sake, but hearing it said out loud made me want to recoil and curl up in my bed to convince myself that everything was just a bad dream. Seth lowered his phone as soon as he spotted us, a grin automatically making its way to his lips. God, I was going to miss that grin. Alyssa immediately launched herself at Seth, throwing her arms around him. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was trying to tackle him instead. Seth nearly lost his balance and he had to take a few steps back to regain it, but he didn’t miss a beat as he wrapped his own arms around Alyssa. “Lyss, I don’t leave for at least thirty more minutes, so you might, uh, want to choke me later instead?” “You suck,” she said, her face buried in his chest. “You fucking suck for leaving in the middle of a school year. Who does that?” Seth managed to pry himself from Alyssa’s choke hold. He still held her at arm’s length when he flashed her a soft smile. “I’ll miss you too.” He draped an arm over her shoulders and turned to us.

I stayed somewhere a few steps back, partially hidden by Rev’s tall figure, but when our eyes met, I could have sworn his gaze lingered on mine a second longer than necessary. Warren eyed the suitcases standing just a few feet from Seth. With a sigh, he said, “I still can’t believe you’re really leaving. You better not forget us.” Seth chuckled, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? When I get there and meet all these people who are way better than you, I’m forgetting you all.” This was followed by a girlish yelp as Alyssa stepped on his foot. “You better not!” “I was joking!” I didn’t say anything as they all talked about this. I stayed there in the back, listening to their easy banter, until Dan and Lily arrived. They were holding a small rectangular object covered in some brown paper. Greetings ensued as they handed the wrapped object to Seth. “From all of us,” Lily said. Seth unwrapped it, ripping the paper off to reveal a picture enclosed in a simple black frame, the size of a pocket book. I watched as the expression on his face shifted, eyes softening as he took the image in. When I peeked over to look at it, I saw a picture of all of us in Cloudland. I vaguely remember Lily asking someone to take a picture of us all before the night ended. I was standing next to Seth there, who had childishly put up two fingers over my head. All of a sudden, he looked up and caught my gaze. My hand clutched the strap of my shoulder bag as I remembered the letter once again. I couldn’t even think of how I was going to give it to him, and part of me was hoping that I wouldn’t have to. They spent a few more minutes talking, in which Alyssa had to ask me if I was all right because I was awfully quiet, and I just mumbled something along the lines of I’m fine. If Seth noticed my sudden and semi-selective muteness, he didn’t point it out. They were in the middle of a heated debate about how Seth’s life would be in New York (“Duuude, he’s going to realize that he’d been gay all along”) when he did decide to talk to me. “Hey,” he said, “can Kyla and I talk for a while? We’ll be back in five minutes. I promise.” They all but pushed him to drag me away, not bothering to consult me about the whole talking- alone-with-Seth thing. Alyssa even shoved me a little when I didn’t instantly follow Seth. We walked until we were out of earshot, half hidden by a line of people buying some kind of doughnuts. “I didn’t think you’d come,” was what he said when we stopped walking. Then, more quietly, he added, “You didn’t show up last night.” “Oh.” I looked down, still fiddling with the strap of my bag. “I’m—um—I’m sorry.” I didn’t offer an explanation and he didn’t ask for one. “I’m glad you came today.” When he looked at me, I knew he meant it. “I really am.” “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He smiled. “So.” “So.” “Okay, this is awkward.” “Fuck, yes, it is,” I agreed and dropped my gaze. He reached over his shoulder to place a hand on the back of his neck. His other hand was shoved in his pocket. He took a deep, ragged breath as he dropped his gaze.

“Sorry. I just…” He trailed off uncertainly before continuing, “Question game.” I realized, with a pang of sadness, that this was going to be the last time I’d hear those words from him again. I swallowed, keeping my eyes trained on the tiles beneath us. “Okay.” “Can you promise me one thing?” My eyes snapped to his. I swallowed to push past the lump in my throat. “I don’t think that applies as a question.” “Make it an exception, then.” I looked at him for a long time, drinking in the desperation in his voice, and with a sigh, I conceded. “Fine.” “Promise me,” he said, “that you won’t wait for me.” I blinked. He flushed. “I mean, okay, that came out wrong. I sound like a narcissist and—ugh.” He tugged at his hair. “What I mean is, you shouldn’t wait for me. Don’t… don’t close your heart on the possibility of meeting someone new.” I swallowed back a protest. “That’s not even a question.” “I don’t want to get in the way of your happiness.” He was speaking quietly, but I could hear him perfectly well despite the slight buzz of chatter in the airport. “Can you promise me that?” I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to keep myself from arguing with him. Instead, I nodded and said, “Well, if I happen to meet Logan Lerman in real life, I’m definitely not letting you get in the way of my happily ever after.” He grinned. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that.” “Well, we do know each other after all.” “Of course, we do. What’s the best way for people to get to know each other?” he said. “Have a fake relationship.” Laughing, I shook my head at him. I didn’t know why, but it felt like the right moment to give him the letter, so I reached into my bag to fish it out. I held it out to him. “As promised.” He took it, holding it almost delicately in his hands. For a long while, he just looked at it, running his thumb across the crisp paper of the envelope. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking of as he looked at it, holding it as though it was something that might break if he grasped it too tightly. After what felt like forever, he looked up at me. “Thank you.” I averted my gaze and fought the urge to take it back, rip it to pieces and burn it so he wouldn’t have to see me bare my heart and soul in the form of words. I thought back to what Justin had said to me in the car. People can help us pick the pieces of our heart, and Seth had definitely helped me pick mine up, in more ways than one, and a part of me wanted to believe that by taking the letter with him, he was taking a piece of my heart with him. And I was okay with that. That piece he was taking was replaced by him making a permanent residence in my heart. And maybe that was the thing about heartbreak. You give a piece of your heart away, but it’s replaced by the person holding it now, so it’s never really truly broken. It just takes a bit of getting used to. Seth would always be in my heart, even if I do meet Logan Lerman or anyone else. I would never forget him and his Spongebob moments and his fucking menstruating foot.

I will never forget that once in my life, I’d come to know the real Seth Everett—and he was beautiful in every way. In every arching curve and jagged edge, in every break and crack. He was a night sky, full of bright and dim stars and I would never get tired of looking at him. “We still have two questions each,” he said, playing with the toe of his shoe. “We’ll save them for when you get back,” I replied. “Kyla, I’m not sure I—” I punched his shoulder. “Shut up, you dipshit, can’t you see I’m trying to be positive here?” He didn’t reply. It was like he didn’t even want to acknowledge the possibility of him coming back here, even if it was just one small visit, and even though I knew, at the back of my mind, that he was bound to come back one day, it felt like he was going away for good. He stayed quiet as he looked down at the letter in his hands, turning it over and over so we both stood there in silence. ”So you’re really leaving,” I muttered. “Ah.” He looked up, raising an eyebrow at me. “Really? I didn’t notice.” It was hard to glare at him when I was trying my best to hold back tears. “You suck.” He held up his hands in the universal sign for surrender. “What did I do?” “Other than barge in on my life, break my heart, and decide to leave all of a fucking sudden, you mean?” I asked him. “Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker?” His lips tugged to a small smile. “That, sweetheart, is the understatement of the century.” I mirrored his smile. “Ain’t that right.” --- Maybe the universe arranging our meeting was nothing but a tragedy waiting to happen. Maybe we just aren’t meant to be together in the end. But that’s the point, Seth. That’s the point. It’s not about The End, because The End is never the end, and it’s not about whether or not we end up together. It’s all about the fact that somewhere in between our first meeting and this seemingly last one, you have made me happier than I could have ever been without you. You have given me these fleeting moments that helped me get through my broken heart. You have given me the chance to fall in love. And our story might have ended up like a tragedy, Seth, but happy endings are nothing but a nostalgia for the present. And given the chance to go back in time to change things, I would still choose to fall in love with you over and over and over again, because having you is worth losing you.

Uhmmmmm....... I'm emotion-less right now...like a robbot.no feelings. jex looking.

Chapter 43 My fingers worked deftly on Adrienne’s golden locks as I continued to braid the rest of her hair. Ever since I cut my hair, I’d been silently obsessing on fixing hers and trying all sorts of styles. Thankfully, she loved letting me work on her hair whenever I was around, always complimenting me about why I was the best older sister she could have ever wished for. It was sweet and comforting at the same time. It had only been two years (a year and three- quarters, actually) since Mom and Norman decided to marry each other, but I couldn’t help but love Adrienne like a real sister. After securing the simple braid I decided to do, I looked at her in the mirror in front of us. “Can I do your hair too?” she asked me with a big grin on her face. Her eyes were wide, pleading and expectant, as she looked at me through the mirror. I lifted a hand to my head, tugging at the ends of my dark hair. After cutting it off half a year ago, it recently grew into a chin-length bob that surprisingly framed my face in a non-hideous manner. “I don’t think there’s much we can do with this, Ade.” “Then let me brush it,” she said, already sliding off of her seat and tugging at me. I laughed, shaking my head, but I still plopped into her previous seat in front of my vanity drawer. She still had to stand a bit on her tiptoes as she ran the brush through my short hair. “One day,” she said, “I’m going to donate my hair for the cancer patients, too.” I gave her a grateful smile, feeling a swelling sense of pride for her youthful innocence. “You’d do that?” “Of course. Like you did.” When Hail and I found out that there were various ongoing projects where people were encouraged to donate their hair to make wigs for cancer patients, we didn’t even have to hesitate. We both decided to grow our hair out again for another donation in the future. Even Alyssa and Lily decided to do it a few weeks after we did. “I really miss Cedric,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. I had always marveled at how mature she was for a girl who just turned ten years old. She’d been forced to grow up through all the court trials and complications of her parents’ divorce, but times like these, she always seemed like a little girl to me. “I miss him too, Ade.” I sighed, feeling the weight of Cedric’s absence settle over us like a thick blanket. “I miss him a lot.” --- I wish I could say that Cedric had gone through a miraculous recovery that the doctors hadn’t predicted, but he hadn’t. Seven months after Seth left for New York, Cedric stopped responding to treatments. In those seven months, it had been easy to believe that he was getting better; or that he wasn’t getting worse, at least. It all seemed familiar—the chemo, the checkups, the little things that reminded me that he was sick. He started losing his appetite along with his weight, throwing up when his body rejected whatever food he tried to eat, and my hospital visits became more and more and more frequent. Adrienne, who had been living with us for almost two months then, decided to ask me where I always disappeared to everyday. “I’m visiting a friend,” I told her. “Can I go with you?” she had asked me. She and Cedric instantly liked each other the moment they met.

Since that day, I always tried to bring Adrienne with me during the weekends. Even the nurses had gotten to know her through the visits and they noticed, just like I did, that ever since my (then) nine- year-old stepsister walked into his life, Cedric seemed much, much happier. The first time I’d ever seen Cedric’s mother pacing around the hospital corridors was during his last month. Somehow, the sight of her, looking remarkably like Cedric in an understated way, made me wonder if she regretted leaving; if she regretted deciding to remove herself from Cedric’s life altogether and choosing to come back only when Cedric had lost control of his life. The whole week before the day he died, he’d been drifting in and out of various stages of consciousness. He celebrated his eighteenth birthday asleep and drugged, with rotating visitors wishing him a happy birthday, when it was anything but happy in that dreary hospital room. When it was my turn to talk to him, I could hardly say anything, too overwhelmed by the sheer irony of the fact that he was spending his birthday trying not to die. It was too painful to bear and I mostly just held onto his hand, not saying the words I’d prepared to tell him, just trying to let him know I was there, I was there, I was there. Every day after that had been excruciatingly close to torture. I dreaded every phone call, every text message, as each and every one of these was enough to give me a heart attack as we all waited for what had seemed like the inevitable back then. I’d seen it coming; felt it happening as he took all those labored breaths in that goddamned hospital, but when The Call happened five days later, the news hit me so hard it was like I’d never even expected it at all. The days before and after that merged into one big blur of sadness. It was a period in which I had to go through the same things I did when my dad was the one thrown into the cancer equation. “Once we watched a movie,” I had said during his funeral, my eyes too dry to produce any tears after all the long hours I’d spent crying, “which revolves around the concept of miracles. It was said there that each and every one of us were destined for something, and this something was to be another person’s miracle.” I kept my eyes low, not daring to look at anyone in the crowd. “At one point in time,” I continued, “I had hoped to be his miracle, to be that someone who could find a way to heal him. In the end, it was him who had become my miracle.” --- Adrienne set down the apple on Cedric’s gravestone. I watched as she lowered herself down and carefully placed it somewhere in the middle of the gray slab, before standing up to greet him a happy birthday. Hail and I decided to come here to give him our gifts and Adrienne, of course, tagged along. Hail and I once agreed that if anyone had been Cedric’s miracle, it was Adrienne. She was so spirited, so lively, it was like she brought life to that dreary hospital room. He liked having her around and while my sister never admitted it, I suspecting she had a little crush on him. Hail and I watched as my stepsister whispered a few words into the air. It was hard to believe that he had been gone for almost a year now. “I kind of really effing miss you,” I said, filtering my own vocabulary around Adrienne, as I placed a set of guitar strings somewhere near the apple. “And you kind of effing suck for missing out on Senior year,” Hail added as she put her own gift— a Beatles shirt—to the pile of our odd, mismatched gifts. Now I understand that you never really stop missing someone, even long after you’ve moved on. You simply get used to the fact that you are missing them, changing the way you deal with their absence. It wasn’t easy, not at all, but if there was anything I’d learned after everything that had happened to me— with Dad, with Seth, with Cedric—it was the fact that it wasn’t impossible either.

Hmmm,so sad,rip cedric

So, Cedric finaly died *crying* *sobbing* *tear* *sick* *tired* *frustrated* Life. Life. Life.

So sad bt happy ryt nw, happy 'cos cedric died nd happy 'cos kyla managed 2 get over his death. Still hopin 4 cedric's un/expected return.

Such is life! RIP Ced

such is life. RIP cedric""" Seth cum back home!

Dedicated to to everyone who read this story Epilogue ”The thing is,” I told Hail as I shrugged my jacket off, “I like Dylan. I really do. It’s just… I don’t think we’re meant to last.” When the results of the elimination round for the writing contest came out last year’s holiday break, I somehow found myself paying Dylan a visit to ask him if he was in. We both got in. Since then, we became friends and I found myself visiting Julie’s during his shift. I wasn’t sure, exactly, how things progressed from there, but six months later, he finally asked me to go out with him and I agreed. Hail gave me a pointed look. “So you dumped him?” I cringed. “Really, I prefer saying we saved us both from a relationship that was doomed to fail. Dylan understands. And look, he even gave us free cream puffs, see? We’re better off as friends.” She threw her hands up in the air in an Ah, fuck it gesture. “I knew you weren’t over him yet.” Rolling my eyes as I closed the door behind us, I shook my head. “What are you even talking about?” “Kyla,” she said, “you know what I’m talking about.” I was about to deny this assumption again, but then Hunter came bounding from somewhere inside the house (probably the kitchen) to greet me home. I crouched down, unable to keep myself from grinning as I ruffled up his fur in that spot he liked, somewhere close to his ears. I was glad to be back for Holiday break. While I loved my dorm and all the friends I made who lived on the same floor as me and Hail, I couldn’t deny the fact that I got homesick a lot. College was stressful and even this break was probably going to be busy for me, seeing as I had a paper due at the end of the month. Hail and I had been back in town for two days now and yesterday, we met up with Alyssa and the others. We were both surprised to find out that Warren and Alyssa had gotten back together (finally!), but nothing could have shocked us more than Justin asking Hail out on a date. Adrienne appeared to greet us too. She was wearing a Santa hat as she all but ran towards me and Hail. It was only just the twenty-third, but she was so excited about Christmas that I couldn’t even imagine how she’d act on the day itself. Ever since I’d gotten home, she chose to follow me around whenever I was inside the house, sticking to me like I’d been glued to her. When I asked her why, she told me she just wanted to spend all her time with me before I had to go off to college again. “Mom and Dad aren’t back yet,” Adrienne told me as Hail and I shrugged our coats off. “They told me to remind you to start making the cookies already.” “This is the only reason you want me back for Christmas. It’s all about the cookies.” Adrienne giggled and asked if she could help. I pretended, of course, that she couldn’t, just to make her beg and promise to behave, before finally agreeing. Hail “decided” to help too and we all headed to the kitchen. On our way, however, Adrienne stopped walking and let out a dramatic, “Oh!” I raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” “Something came for you earlier!” Before I could say anything about this, she was already running back into the living room. Hail and I exchanged a look before making the rest of our way to the kitchen. I was busy pulling out all the supplies we needed to make the cookie dough from the cupboards when Hail decided to bring up the topic I thought I’d already managed to dodge earlier.

“You’re still not over him.” “Trust me,” I said, “I’m over Seth.” “Dude, I never even mentioned his name. It’s obvious you—” “Dude? Don’t tell me Justin’s rubbing off on you.” She visibly reddened. I would have thought that bringing her budding love life to the conversation was going to throw her off the topic of Seth, but she didn’t let up. She took a deep breath, still completely blushing. “It’s been two years already.” “I told you, I’m over him.” That was when Adrienne decided to run into the kitchen, holding something that looked like a big notebook in her hands. Hail and I momentarily exchanged another look as I examined what Adrienne was holding. It looked suspiciously like a sketchpad. I felt my heart skip a beat. “I saw this on the porch this morning,” Adrienne said, handing it to me. “It has your face in it.” I blushed, trying to ignore Hail’s wide and probing gaze. I took the sketchpad and nearly didn’t want to open it at all. I nearly wanted to pass out, trying to suppress my imagination from running wild. I didn’t want to raise my expectations out of a silly assumption, after all. I didn’t even want to open it with anyone else inside the room, but Hail didn’t seem to approve of my plan to leave the kitchen and lock myself in the bathroom, so I stayed where I was and tried to force my hands to move. “Open it, open it, open it.” “Shut up.” “Open it.” “Calm down.” She looked like she was just about to grab it from me so she could open it herself, but I shot her a look and she thankfully restrained herself. I didn’t want to think of the possibilities stemming out from one sketchpad, worried I might get worked up over nothing. Still, I couldn’t help but take three calming breaths before looking down at the plain dark blue cover of the pad. It was hard not to assume things. When I opened it, however, to an almost-blank page, save for the small doodle at the bottom right corner of the paper, my heart nearly skyrocketed to the moon. It was a doodle of Spongebob and Squidward. --- I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I climbed out of my car. I was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep myself from hyperventilating at the sight of a familiar car parked just a few yards from where I decided to park. Hail said I wasn’t over him yet. And a part of me always believed that I really was over him. I guess I wasn’t quite, yet. Sure, I really did like Dylan for real and we were happy together. I hardly even thought of Seth anymore. The first few months were hard, of course, and I almost thought he’d never stop infiltrating my thoughts, but with spending so much time with Cedric and Hail and Alyssa and the rest, not to mention adjusting to having a stepfather and Adrienne, it didn’t take long for me to stop thinking about him on a regular basis. It was only until now, with the prospect of possibly meeting him again, did I feel something stir within me, like it had woken up from a deep slumber.

The chill in the air made it pretty obvious why there were only two cars along the length of the parking lot at the beach. I walked to the sand dunes, trying to keep myself from frantically looking around in case I might miss him. The sketchpad was filled with different kinds of pencil sketches. There was a portrait of me, captured in a smile. There was sketch of a garden; a drawing of Squidward having fun while Spongebob looked at something that looked suspiciously like an iPhone, looking longingly at Squidward. There were more— the others I could barely even make out from all the vague lines—but at the very end, a note written in his careless scrawl. Meet me at the beach? Hail decided to screw the cookies—“I’ll take them from here,” Hail assured me—because this was definitely an emergency. I was glad she let me go because try as I might, I could never stop myself from hopping into my car to head to the beach. Despite the fact that no one other than him could have possibly given me the sketchpad, a part of me still seemed to doubt the possibility of his return; of seeing him again, so when I saw his car parked to my right, I suddenly felt the reality of the situation. He was back. He was fucking back. Holy shit. Almost as if they were propelled by the thrill of seeing him again, my legs started to move faster. I looked around the area, scanning the area for signs of him. I could feel each beat of my heart against my ribcage as I continued to look around for his familiar figure somewhere in the distance. It had been two long years since he left. In time, I learned not to feel the aching sadness of his absence, but now that he was back, it felt as if I was transported back to those first few weeks after he boarded that flight and flew out of this town and my life. I still wasn’t sure why, exactly, we’d acted like there was an unspoken rule between us to not talk to each other when he left. We didn’t exchange e-mails or have calls or anything. While sometimes, I would find myself typing an e-mail for him in the dead of the night, I’d never really send it to him. It was like we both agreed that it would be easier for the two of us to adjust to our new lives if we stopped communicating altogether. So when I found him standing just a few yards away from where my feet had brought me, I couldn’t help but take a sudden breath as a wave of tingly sensations spread out from my chest to the very tips of my hair. He was looking out into the ocean so I could see nothing but his back, but I knew it was him. It’s been two years. He was back. I was about to see him. My knees were trembling so much I had to worry about my legs buckling underneath me. My pace had slowed, somehow unconsciously, as each step I had to take grew shakier and shakier as I drew closer to where he was standing. He must have heard me approaching over the roar of the wind. Before I could even say a word, he turned on his heel. Our eyes met. My breathing hitched as I found myself looking into his electric blue eyes. I was lost in them, lost in the way I’d missed seeing them, lost in the thoughts I had of missing him. I studied him closely, noting how his hair had changed into a (slightly) neater version of his usual haircut and how the way he stood made him seem like he had matured, somewhat, but he still seemed to carry the same childlike behavior he had two years ago.

A moment passed. Seth’s face broke into a grin and I nearly melted at the sight of it. “Your hair,” was the first thing he said. “Your hair,” I said back, feeling a smile grow on my face as well. He took a step closer, so that we were only just five steps away from each other. I couldn’t make myself look away from his eyes as I stood there on my unsteady feet, hearing the crashing of the waves against the shore over the wind blowing from the south, sending my short hair in every direction possible. “How—how are you? I mean, it’s been so long and —” “I’ve been all right.” He shrugged, the smile never quite leaving his face. “What about you? I heard you won second place in that writing contest.” I shook my head, still incapable of having this normal conversation with him when there were so many things I wanted to say. “That’s old news.” He laughed. “Two years, huh?” It was hard to fully comprehend the situation but I tried my best to keep up. “You came back.” “You don’t say?” He took another step closer. His eyes were glinting with amusement—and something else I couldn’t quite name. I drew a breath, trying to keep myself upright. “Any reason you decided to grace us with your presence?” “Well, first off,” he said, “I’ll be staying here for the holiday break with Mom. Second.” The smile disappeared as his eyes softened into a thoughtful look. “I found Sarah two months ago.” I stumbled back, as if he had thrown the last line at me with a force that was equal to a rough shove. I swallowed, trying to ease past the lump in my throat, and forced myself to say something as I dropped my gaze to the sand beneath my feet. “Oh. Wow—that’s—uh—how did it—” “I found out what happened between us.” “Are you…” I peered up at him, one hand fiddling with the hem of my sweater. “Are you guys back together?” “We’re friends,” he said, and for some reason, I felt like I’d just lost a load off of my shoulders. “Just friends.” If my relief was obvious, he didn’t call me on it. I drew my eyes back to his and realized he’d taken more steps closer to me now; close enough for his familiar scent to fill the air between us. “So what happened?” I asked him. “It’s a long story.” “I’m not in any rush,” I said. “And I think I’m in the mood for a few rounds of the Question Game. You?” One corner of his lips rose in a barely there smile that I knew all too well. “Maybe after I’m done with the third reason I’m back.” I struggled to take a breath. “And what’s that?” He took that last step to close the distance between us. “I wanted to say hi.” I bit my lower lip in a futile attempt to keep myself from smiling. “Is that so?” Taking a deep breath, he kept his eyes carefully trained on mine. “So…” he said. “Hi.” The word felt heavy with everything we’d been through two years ago.

There was this distance between us that could never be undone; that period when we hadn’t talked to each other at all. It wasn’t much, really, but it seemed like everything else was lying behind that one word. I wasn’t sure where this would lead. We could be two vastly different people now— nothing but complete and utter strangers--and there was no way we could continue where we left off two years ago. This wide gap between would keep us from going back to how we were or how we could have been. The past was long gone now. There was, however, the possibility of the future stretching out beyond us; and it all began with this moment. I leveled my gaze with his. “Hi.” And I realized, as we stood there, taking each other in after all the time we’d spent apart, that this is what lies in the space between then and now. It’s the sun rising. It’s the day beginning. It’s your heart breaking. It’s meeting new people. It’s the misunderstanding lying beneath suppressed feelings. It’s losing someone you love. It’s avoiding the person you want to talk to. It’s the messages you’ve never sent. It’s that “someone,” smiling, tentatively at first until it grows into a real one. It’s you, smiling back. It’s the moment you both say “hi,” just one word, two letters erasing the goodbye and replacing it with all the possibilities and promises of tomorrow as you both stand there looking at each other, taking in the enormity of a single word, and see how everything else falls into place. --- You hold its wings between your thumb and index finger and you can feel them slightly buzzing as the dragonfly attempts to fly. You bring it closer to you and watch it—you take note of every color, every curve, every little detail on its frail little body—and wish that you would never have to let go of something so beautiful. But rarely in our lives do we ever get what we wish for and you know you can’t hold on forever, because sometimes, it’s holding on that makes us weak. So you pry your fingers apart. For a second, the dragonfly stays still, and then its wispy wings buzz to life. It flies and you watch it rise, higher and higher, farther and farther, until you can’t see it anymore. You squint into the sunlight, your eyes narrowing to tiny slits, but your lips tug into a smile. THE

I hpe its nt de end

BEGINNING.......

No ooo! Its can't be d end

Nd dis is da end!...... I'm quite happy dis is d end (if it really is)....cos @least it will prevent/stop me 4rm feeling sad....aw i wish cedric never died....well dat is life

Shaxee this story is yet to be completed pls don't leave us hanging

Even me dat dnt beliv in luv,d story touch me i no go lie,am all emotional rite now,great piece @shaxee

the end is never really d end! Really touching cedric had to die! Too bad its not gonna be an happily eva after tin buh its okay. Its really a nyc shot n u av once again made me anxious n @ the tip of my toes for anoda blockbuster from u! Tnx @shaxee!

Dat was waoh.

God! Seth is one in a billion guys every other girl out there wanna cherish and have... Cedric, you're equally more than good but circumstances halted your goodwill... Good storyline, nice makeup.... Thanks author MISHACK SHAXEE

Hmmmmmmmm

I can't stop reading this story over and over again.....it makes me wanna fall in love ......

Really! Am gonna kidnap the author of this story. @shaxee bro I think you should watch your back in dark alleyways*winks* But.....Nice write up.

@itzshaxee.....try to write your own stories....if we want to read this....i think we will go and read it on wattpad....this story is by Sam Madison....i have read it before.

wow reading dis story late isn't a bad idea but dis story is interesting kudos to d writer

Continue Pls