A/N: Hey there everyone. This story covers it all, from romance, to death, to heartbreak and to friendship. This fiction, for once, does not center around Casey and Sammy. It' purpose is to explore and undersand the nature of Sammy, Holly, Dot and Marissa's friendship.

Entering college has never been easy. But what's it like to just even get there? Luckily, Sammy, Marissa, Dot and Holly will always have each each other.

Disclaimer: Why doe this even exist? If I owned SK...and Runaway, well, I woul be Wendenlin Van Draanen.


Prologue

It started with some laughs in their dorm room. They had just finished studying for the evening (for once) and they were basking in a quiet comfort, the comfort that had become this solidified, intoxicating friendship, for all four of them. For the better part of six years, these young women had been friends, enduring classes, archenemies, feuding families, fighting criminals, meeting new friends, attending funerals, questioning life as it was, and finally, hurdling through high school to make it here: university, the epitome goal that pushed them closer together, in different ways.

They had pulled out their high school yearbook, from their junior year, to reflect on some happier days and to have some laughs. Their friendships with other people had fluctuated, varying from person-to-person. From the junior high years, not much had changed with their friends. Junior year, Billy Pratt was still the Class Clown, but he had mellowed out a bit that year, seriously dating a girl from the sophomore class. Heather Acosta had been de-throned by the head cheerleaders and wallowed in self-pity; Danny Urbanski was still as slick as they came and rumors had floated around him being involved in a gang; Brandon McKenize was the high school's assistant swimming team coach and was involved with random girls sporadically.

The conversation between the four women shifted around various topics, jumping over memories and skipping others. They talked about old boyfriends (minus one), the drama of high school and how, once the ever tenacious, high-top wearing chica got a car, the problems in Santa Martina seemed to disappear. People saw her as a threat, a force to be reckoned with. And boy, did she prove that to Santa Martina. A self-satisfied smirk crossed her face as they all began to talk about their junior high days. Catching the bad guy seemed like a fairy tale now, but there was fear, then, and uncertainty and excitement. And disbelief. How had they managed to get away with all they did back then? The conversation shifted to another mystery they had solved, all of them, together. It was the one that brought a dysfunctional, hard headed, stubborn and lost girl to them, all those years ago in the seventh grade one cold autumn day…

"So, c'mon, we've never actually talked about this," the brash, persistant girl stated, grabbing popcorn in her fist while propping her faded blue high-tops onto the table just above her. They had been a gift, from over four years ago, during a fairy tale…

"She's right you know," the followed, the believer girl continued while she fiddled with her over-priced, over-pinked phone, her black hair falling over her face as she reached for the carrot sticks.

"Do we really need to go into this?" the lost-and-found, the loved girl inquired while exchanging looks with the quieter one of all of them, with a beautiful circle still encompassing her high cheekbone. Sighing, the girl in inquisition rose from the floor and went into to her to began rummaging through her belongings. She finally exited her sparkling clean room with a small, tattered journal in her hand.

"If you want to know, read it," she said, setting the book in the center of the circle. The other three exchanged glances. So, the reading of the journal commenced, the three girl engrossed in the pages unfolding before them.

She waited patiently for them to digest what she had written all those years ago. It took a lot to even know what they were reading about: now, they should understand why she could never actually talk about it…the time when she ran away, when she made her way to California, safe into their arms.

Two hours passed, and the book was closed.

"Were you ever going to tell us?"

"Of course I was. I just…I didn't know how to approach it, I guess," the young woman's head ducked to her chest, a soft hole forming in her heart. This story was difficult to re-account, after all that had happened to her as such a young and innocent girl. But whatever happened to her in her early childhood, was not innocent. She had fight homeless scums for houseroom, cower from fear of being molested by her own foster families, and then, try with all her might to trust, for really the first time in her life.

"We've all had rough times with our families…and we've witnessed it in each other," one of the young women piped in, softly, speaking for the first time since the memories had begun to brought up. She smiled sadly into the circle of friends. A rush of memories flooded into the circle…


A/N: This is where the author says: cliffes are fun!!! Don't worry, the next chapter is right after this. And hey, one of these days I'll update Echoing Friendships and Reunion.