Chapter 1

"Marry me…"

That's the first thing she told me when we first met. Of course, we didn't know each other like that for her to just walk into my life and propose to me right out of the bat. And all I could do was battling my eyes from breaking out of their sockets should they ever get too shock of the blunt manner with which she approached.

"Excuse me…?" I scoff. The woman walks around the small round table to sit across from where I sat underneath the sun shade of the small café.

"What? Too soon?" she says, "Marry me…" She slides her sunglasses on top of her head to pour her impatient hazel sight within my own. She doesn't look like someone who usually plays around and takes nothing seriously. I shrug my shoulders realizing that I didn't even invite her to sit yet she invited herself to sit in front of me while reaching from my end of the table to grab my cup of coffee and drinking from it.

"Marry me…" she repeats without conveying anymore information to the asinine proposal that she just made to me.

I laugh loudly this time because I am too taken aback. That lady is rude, "I'm sorry but where I come from we don't marry strangers who drink our coffee."

She reaches over and takes my doughnut off the plate, and finishes it in one swallow. Now I am pissed, it was the last doughnut.

"I know you…" she shrugs, "Marry me…"

I squint my eyes, "How?"

"I stalk you." she grins, "…Marry me."

Is she serious?

"I know who you are, where you come from, what you do for a living, the university that you want to go to, your parent's name and what they do, your shoe size, waist size, bra size, height, weight, medical history, social security number…."

"Whoa whoa whoa…." I stop her. What the hell? I mean, is this really happening right now? What the fuck is this? Is this a prank? Yeah! I know; I must be on TV right now. "Who the hell are you?"

She leans back on the chair and crosses her legs underneath the small round table. A random guy walks by and hands her a folder which she takes without leaving her stare shifting from my eyes. She opens the folder and starts sifting through the pages without saying anything. She just hums a tune and nods every now and then before placing the folder back on the table and looks up at me, "You are perfect. Marry me…"

OK this is getting weirder and weirder. I should call the cops, right? Should I call the cops right now? I look around trying to cry for help from anybody looking my way. But everybody seems to be focusing on their conversation and their own little thing. I have to get away from here because this is beyond creepy. Did she just say that she stalks me? I knew I should have listened to my dad and never moved away from home to attend this stupid high school that I am starting to dislike.

She smirks, "Feeling uncomfortable? Why?"

I make a grimace, "What? No…" I shrug, "Having a random sociopath woman claiming to be my stalker walk up to me and ask me in marriage? It happens to me all the time."

She calls for a waiter and orders for yet another coffee with a dozen doughnuts. She is addicted to doughnuts; she is definitely not a well woman. "Karma, seventeen, junior at Hester High, and originally from here, Austin, 3.5 GPA, bad financial security and bad credit score and in dire need of improvement…"

I look dubiously at the woman and wondering what the hell I am still doing sitting here listening to her rambling and not on my way right now, running for the hills and alert the police.

She continues, "…Shall we move to the interesting parts? Bust size: 32; not bad but I think a little bit of work can do wonders; waist size: 21, hip size: 30. Usually, I love curves, but I can work with you."

Did I just get insulted? "I'm sorry lady. You seem very charming but I don't think this marriage is a good idea."

Yes that's it! She's mental; otherwise why else would someone randomly propose a marriage proposal to someone that they don't know? I am such a jerk. "I'm so sorry; do you want me to buy you a drink?" I say, reaching across the table to grab her hand and console her. I have to make contact so that she doesn't feel threatened and run away.

If she does then that is one more unstable soul roaming around the city. Never rush a mentally unstable person; you have to let them down easy. I have to talk to her nicely so that she doesn't feel threatened. I am feeling so bad for being so rude to her and here she is victim to the vulnerability of mental illness. Where are her people? Maybe I should take her to the mental institute myself.

She raises an eyebrow at me, "What are you doing?"

I keep smiling at her, feeling sorry for having mistaken her for a sane person, "It's OK, we all go through our mental impairment period at least once in our lifetime. Don't worry, with a good help from the mental institute down the street from where I know you come from, you'll receive the aid that you need."

She takes the glasses off her head, "Wait, what?"

I shake my head, "It's OK, and I'm here to help you. I can take you home. I can take you there and they'll take good care of you." I reassure her. I reach for my purse and leave a tip on the table for the waiter, "I'll take you."

"Where?" she frowns.

"To the mental institute…I know you are lost that is why you came here. You don't have anybody to take you back."

She laughs.

She laughs so loud that everybody had to turn around to witness the vulgarity. Her laugh has now reach full blow-on mode that she is holding her stomach from the pain. What is so funny? Oh yeah! Of course she is crazy. She's laughing for no reason. Should I join her? Maybe I should join her. I start laughing along with her too until I started laughing for real now. What the heck am I laughing about? I stop. I am not crazy but her laugh is so addictive.

I see her wiping her eye of a tear, still holding her stomach to appease the pain of her addictive laugh. I want to laugh but I abstain to. She is beautiful though, I won't deny. I mean, her blond hair is so danm well-kept, her eyes are green, but they soon turn hazel when the sun lights through. She is wearing a leather jacket; a very expensive one from what I can tell which means she must be loaded. I mean, she's rocking a Cartier gold watch on her wrist. But then, she is mental so she must have stolen it from someone that she probably assaulted and left for dead in some dark alley. I discreetly dial 911 while she is too busy laughing and I am grateful that they answer on the first ring.

"Yes, hello! There's a person here that I think is a threat to me…Yes…no, she's crazy…she stalks me…I need help…"

She takes the phone from me and throws it across the street and a car inadvertently runs over it, breaking it in million of pieces.

"What the fuck! I just bought this phone you nutcase." I shout and everybody at the other tables looks our way. When I needed their attention, they didn't even know that I was here. What is wrong with people? Or better yet, what is wrong with her?

"I'll buy you a new one. This phone was a last edition anyway. You have to move with the time, don't you know that?" She says, matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry but I can't afford a brand new edition cellular phone." I scorn. I feel my eyes quickly filing up with tears. I loved that phone and she stole my last doughnut. What a fucking bully! I need my mommy…

"I know that… don't worry, we all go through the financial instability period at least once in our lifetime." She says.

I roll my eyes at her as I purse my lips regretful that I just lost a phone I paid a fortune for.

"OK, let's get down to business…" she leans forward on the table and interweave her fingers within each other, "You and me, wedding, bell tolls, release of thousand doves, and drive off to the sunset…what do you say? Sounds tempting right?"

That girl is truly…something is wrong with her, "Why would I want to marry the girl who just told me that she was my stalker?"

"Because that girl is rich; and she can and will take care of you….Marry me." She grins.

"I'm not gay…and I'm much too young…" I take my purse off the table and jump off my seat and walks away from her. My mother told me to never engage in a conversation with a deranged person. It is addictive and you'll get just as crazy as them. It is just as addictive as stupidity is contagious.

I quickly hop in the bus at the intersection and heads back towards my house. I have to buy a new phone now, great! I had to have the unfortunate luck of meeting with her this morning. I knew today was going to be a bad day. I should have stayed home instead of listening to Shane's nonstop rambling on how staying inside so much can be bad for my health and mental state. Well, I see now what he was talking about. Obviously that woman needed a lot of sun because, if she used to get out a lot, she wouldn't have been as mental as she is right now. I cringe at the thought of her. I finally decided to get some fresh air and first thing I receive from the mingling Shane asks me to do is a fucking marriage proposal from a stalker. I have got to stop listening to Shane or I'll end up being just as crazy.

The bus finally reaches its stop and I pay my fare before making way towards the complex building. What car is that? A Lamborghini in front of my house? What boy toy did Shane snatch up now? I hate it when that happens. He invites someone over for me to meet and I end up having to cut the meeting short because, he has to leave. I walk quickly to the house to only be stopped by the same woman that I met twenty minutes ago. She gets out of the Lamborghini and takes off her glasses.

"How did you know that I live here?"

"I'm a stalker; of course I should know basic details like that." She grins again. That grin is starting to grow on me, in a bad way

I roll my eyes, "This is some serious shit right now. I'll have to call the cops on you."

"No you won't." she shrugs.

"Why won't I?" I slowly approach her. I didn't want to but she is standing in my way in front of the pathway that leads to my house. "I at least need to file a restraining order against you."

"No you don't need to. Just marry me…" she asks, yet again, and I am getting sick and tired of being proposed to today.

"Why the hell would I even want to marry you?" I throw my hands in the air trying to get a dramatic effect.

She stares at me with an incredulous gaze that makes me feel stupid for even asking that question. "Do you even need a reason to? I'm rich, and I am drop-dead gorgeous. You should be honored that I am even stalking you."

I blink…I don't like her.

I roll my eyes than I push her aside trying to get to the stairs, "Excuse me but I need to get home. I am tired."

She gently pulls me towards her by gripping my wrist tightly and crashed her lips on mine out of the blue. It took me three seconds to realize what is going on right now. Exactly, three long seconds that temporarily paralyzed me. Then I pull away and slap her face and she falls back on top of her Lamborghini. She holds her cheek in her hands and stares at me wide-eyed.

I wipe my lips trying to get rid of the feeling left by her own, "what the hell are you doing?"

"I kissed you." she breathes

I shake my head, "Well, no shit! That was my first kiss!" I run towards the house and I run up the stairs, wiping my lips repetitively but the warmth left by her lips is too apparent. I reach my bedroom holding my lips in my hand. My eyes are dejecting tears of the accidental regret.

That nutcase had stolen my first kiss.

I enter my room and I find Shane standing at the window. From the look of things, apparently, he had just woken up from a sleep that started 'til one this morning. Well, it was Friday yesterday, you can't expect Shane to stay inside a house on a Friday night where there's parties going on all over town. Well, although he pestered me about going with him last night, I had preferred to stay huddled up under my covers and watching Netflix. I wasn't in the mood to meet anyone, especially if they were going to be drunk and sweaty and despicable.

"Tell me why THE Amy Raudenfeld is standing outside of your house right now."

I walk directly to the bathroom to wash my face of the tear stains. "I supposed that's her name." I say loud enough for him to hear me from the bathroom.

"Well, duh! You don't know who she is?" he yells back to me.

"Nope and I am not interested to know." I walk back out, wiping my face with a towel, "Is she still standing out there?"

He turns back to me, "Yes, what is she doing?"

"She proposed to me." I shrug, looking out the window to find the crazy woman getting inside the car.

Shane jumps up and turns to face me with a shock expression barging on his feature, "WHAT?!"

I just shrug at him.

His mouth stays an infinite shape of 'o' that just didn't make any sense to me. So what? She proposed to me and she is THE Amy Raudenfeld as he puts it. I don't even know the girl and from what I've seen so far, she is rude, arrogant, self-centered, and a complete psycho. I don't know about you but I do plan on marrying somebody that is totally sane one day and not that woman – ever. And, I'm not gay… sometimes. I mean, you are probably wondering how someone can be gay sometimes. Well, I've caught myself staring too hard at women from time to time but I never have gone out with a girl. I haven't gone out with anybody period, boy or girl. I'm a virgin and I've never been kissed. Yes, a twenty year old girl who's never been kissed and gone on a date. It is not weird. It's perfectly normal and I like it this way. That is until that nutcase just kissed me out of the blue. I hate her.

"She proposed to you?" he blinks his eyes at me, not understanding the time period that we've probably crossed into and pigs started flying like migrating birds.

I shrug, "Yes, so?"

"THE Amy Raudenfeld proposed to you? What like a marriage proposal? Or some other fifty shades type of thing?" He widens his eyes.

I walk away from the window as soon as I saw her getting away from the house and turn at the intersection, "Why do you have to emphasize 'THE' in front of her name? She's not all that."

He dramatically drops himself on the bed holding his chest and trying to catch his breath. What the fuck is the big deal? Really? Shit! Is she really all that? Fine, she may have completely seductive and beautiful green eyes but that's it. OK, maybe perfectly kept blond filament waving down her shoulders in small waves. Teeth that are the whitest that I have ever seen, and her radiant skin that is without a doubt the softest if ever made contact with. And those lips…wait! Where did my thoughts astray?

He breathes heavier, "THE Amy Raudenfeld that you've completely made no fuss over is the next heiress in line to the most prestigious hotel chain in all of Texas. Her mother owns several country clubs and casinos in Las Vegas too. Not only that, her stepfather is a fucking congressman and her stepsister Lauren is a top model."

"OK, stop it!" I roll my eyes, "So what? Her family is loaded, what is the big deal still? What does she do? Nothing. She just relies on her family fortune and goes on vacation every fucking week. She doesn't even know what working is."

"From what I've heard she is taking care of one her mother's companies. She's the youngest CEO out there."

I just shrug, "So?"

"So?" he snaps his neck, "She proposed to you. What did you even say?"

"I offered to take her back to the mental institute that I thought she came from."

He jumps up from the couch, "Are you kidding me? She's your ticket out of fucking poverty. Marry her!"

"Are you sick? That girl practically stalked me without me even knowing about it. She's not right in the head."

"So what? You are not completely sane either."

"What do you mean?" I ask him, hoping that he doesn't take it where I know that he will.

"Well, someone who stays inside their home all day and never gets out unless it is to go to school and running errands, is not completely sane."

"I knew you were going to take it there. Shane, it is perfectly normal. I choose to stay away from people that I know will not serve me any purpose in life." I say.

"How do you know if they're not going to serve you any purpose if you don't even try to get to know anyone?"

I can't find a plausible argument for that one, "I suppose you are right."

"I'm always right my dear…" he smiles the walks over to me, "So, will you accept her proposal?"

"Hell no! I don't like her at all. She's rude, arrogant, self-centered, and just psycho. She kissed me and I hate her for it. She's a fucking pain in the ass. She even broke my phone, ate my last fucking doughnut and drank my coffee. I DON'T KNOW HER." The seething rage could no longer hide within and needed to be let out.

He blinks repetitively fast, "What did you just say?"

"What?"

"Earlier, you said something that I may have heard wrong."

"What was it?"

"Did you say something about kissing?" he asks.

I cringe at the thought now resurfacing from the deepest side corner of my mind, "Yes, that jackass kissed me." I spat.

He gulps, "What did you do? Did you kiss her back?"

"Fuck no! I slapped some sense into her, knocking her into the time period where manners were respected. Who does she think she is? That vindictive asshole! She stole my first kiss."

Shane grabs his face in his hands and shake it obsessively, "Have you gone mental?"

I shrug, "What? She was rude."

"She proposed to you. THE Amy Raudenfeld proposed to you and you offered to take her to a mental hospital."

"And? Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if she were there before."

"She fucking kissed you and you slapped her?"

I shrug, "Shane, I don't see what the big deal is."

He jumps up and talks even louder than he needed to, "You slapped THE Amy Raudenfeld."

"OK stop saying her full name and placing 'THE' in front as if she were royalty."

"She is royalty. Her mother is the sister of a duchess in England. She has blue blood."

I suddenly feel giddy, "I slapped a royalty. I am awesome."

He throws one of the pillows at me, "This is some serious shit Karma, what the hell?"

"I'm sorry but this is too funny." I laugh.

"You have to marry her." he says.

I stop laughing, "Why the hell would I even want to marry a stranger? She just came out of nowhere and proposed to me. I don't even know her."

He gives me the same look that she gave me earlier. That same look that makes me feel stupid, "So? Do you even need a reason to? She's rich and drop dead gorgeous. You should feel honored. It is THE Amy Raudenfeld."

I roll my eyes, "She's still rude and I don't like rude people." and I walk back to my bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

Whatever is so good about 'THE Amy Raudenfeld' is none of my business. She's rude. She drank my coffee, ate my last doughnut, and broke my fucking phone. I'll never marry her. Under no circumstances, will I ever end up marrying her. NEVER!