Hi, guys! This is my first fanfic! It's a Toby Turner/OC. I think that boy is just too darn cute. :) read and review!

"He can't keep this up forever."

"I know."

"I just... I don't know what to do anymore..."

"Yeah, I know. Hey, mom, I have to go. I've got a test to study for."

"Okay, I hope I get to see you soon. I feel so alone..."

"Yeah, I know, drama, drama, always something, never happy, I get it, mom. Look, I'm in med school now, I don't have time for this anymore."

"Que hablaba?! No me digas que esta. Por que hablas a tu madre-"

I didn't give her time to finish the sentence. I had been through the never-ending cycle way too many times. My dad doesn't do something exactly how my mom wants, she gets upset, she says no one loves her, my dad gets frustrated, they argue, my mom threatens her life, drama, drama, perpetual drama. I suppose at one point in my life it was traumatic, then it became humorous. Now it was tired. So very tired. For the past year and a half, she was convinced my dad was going to leave her and she became obsessed with him. I'd grown tired of the games she played.

Getting up from the bed on which I perched, I got ready for class. I didn't really have a test to study for, I was desperate to escape the cheesy, melodramatic phone conversation. Class was going to be hell. I never even wanted to be a doctor. I honestly just wanted to be a makeup artist. It's my first year of med school. So far it has been okay, but I can tell it's going to suck balls. I slipped on a loose tank and some high-waisted shorts over black panty hose. I pulled my hair up and slapped a bandana on my head. Last, I applied eyeliner, mascara, red lipstick, and I pulled my military-esque boots on. I grabbed my scarf and pea coat as I headed out, being careful not to forget my book bag like last time. If there was one thing my momma always taught me, it was the importance of always looking your best.

The chilly winter Alabama air rattled my bones and made me shiver at first. I love this weather. It always made me think of pumpkin pie, gingerbread men, and all the good wintery food in the world! As I waited for the signal to cross the busy city street, I noticed a helicopter flying someone into the university hospital. I thought nothing of it as it's a common occurence. After all, this is med school with a hospital on campus. Convenient.

!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

After classes, I pulled my coat back on and walked into the October air. My stomach rumbled. I'm so freaking hungry but I'm not even in the mood for food. I chuckled to myself because of that accidental rhyme.

"What's so funny?" A voice said, surprising me. No one ever talked to me. Ever. I looked up to a guy with brown, tangled hair, incredible sideburns, and perfect teeth. His eyes were green, flecked with brown.

"I, uh... was just thinking about food..." I said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

"Food's funny?" He gave a sideways look.

"Well, no, I suppose not." I laughed a little. Gosh, my laugh sucks. Then I realized he was holding a phone up, videoing with the front camera.

"Say hi to the audience!" he said, leaning over to me to get us both in the frame.

"H-hi... audience..." My nervous stutter came out. Ugh.

"Awh, look at you, you little nervous pumpkin pie, you." His voice took on a new tone, one that sounded like a person talking to a baby or a dog. He then said, "I gotta go. Thewinneroflastvialskdflkjdl fjahlKJDFLKjldkgha... If you wanna enter to win a t-shirt, post a comment about uh... hospitals... college... turtles... pumpkin pies... or hothothot college students with red lips and awesome shoes! Thanks for watchin'! Badadododododo subscribe. Outro of darkness, then redness, then whiteness.. then... BOOP!"

I honestly didn't know how to react. I'd never seen someone walking around, talking to their phone before. Geez louise, this guy was asking to be called gay, faggot, stupid, weird, homo, douche bag or something offensive. In Alabama, if you see someone walking around, carrying a conversation with only their phone, you run away. Because there's a high chance that they could be a psycho killer. I started to walk away, but he looked up from putting his phone in his pocket.

"Hey, wait," I turned around, "Whatchu doin' gurl?!" That was a very bad ebonics impression.

"I'm, uh, going back to my apartment to study and get ready for work..." I said, playing with the strap on my satchel.

"I'm Toby." He said, holding out his hand. Something changed in his eyes. He seemed sad... scared, maybe.

"I'm Nieve." I shook his hand.

"Nieve?"

"It's, uh, snow in Spanish."

"Oh! I see. Hey!" His eyes changed again, he seemed joyful again, "You know what a good idea is? You should show me around! Be my tour guide! Here's my number," his phone rang as he wrote his number on my hand and his eyes looked sad again, "I have to go, though. But definitely text me! Or I will hunt you down! It was nice to meet you." He walked off with his head down. Weird guy...

I headed back to my apartment and kicked off my shoes and shrugged out of my jacket. Flopping onto my bed, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and looked at the number on my hand. Nah... That'd be crazy.