Chapter One: The Beginning

I looked at the clock. Could the day have gone by any slower? The second hand seemed to stay uncharacteristically frozen, and downright torturous. Doodling in my notebook didn't even seem to help. Damn, all I got was a broken pencil and a perfectly ruined piece of paper.

I never looked forward to this time of the day. The last ten minutes, a mind-boggling twist of pleasure and pain. Fortunately, the bell rang. It seemed Simpson's diabolical lecture would be reserved for another day.

Even though I was at the back of the class, my foot always seemed to be the first one to cross the threshold. I ran through the hall carelessly, holding my binder in one hand and my water bottle in the other, evading the complaints of my other classmates. I streamed through the fast-growing crowd and went down the yet-to-be-full stairway. I crashed into the wall, took a deep breath and slid to the floor.

Dawn was looking down at me with an amused expression. "Look at what the cat dragged in," she said, a musical lilt in her voice.

She was a pain in the neck and also my best friend. Unable to vocalize my wit, I grunted like a caveman and got up. Our locker was already opened, conveniently enough. I did my magic, smiled at Dawn and broke out in a run – again.

"Bye!"

I sprinted down another flight of stairs and came to a halt in front of the office. I peered in and flashed a grin at the secretary, who responded with the usual shake of the head. I headed outside, stood in a corner and waited.

"Hey."

I turned around and looked up at Jordan Baker, the love of my life --- or the boy I'm obsessed with.

I was never one to fall so easily, or so hard. But Jordan gave me that disgusting butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach. I've grown immune to it.

I was always afraid I'd say the wrong thing or utter something of a completely out-of-this-world language in front of him. I was known to do that once in a while. It was a nervous habit, I couldn't help it.

So I did the 'nod'. You know the one.

But as always, I ended up twisting my neck the wrong way and looked like a horse with a broken collarbone. Hopefully, I looked like an attractive horse with a broken collarbone.

I took the plunge and let the little words what's and up to slip out.

He grinned and said nothing, as per usual. But it's okay if he's lacking a little in the upstairs department, his looks fill that void. And I'm pretty intelligent. We'd make a lethal combination.

"So I was wondering," – a good start – "if you'd want to go" – even better – "with me" – don't sto---

"Claire!"

No.

"Claireeeee!"

NO!

"Claire, I swear to Go-"

Crash. And. Burn.

And right on time, there goes my chance at ever going out with Jordan. Or any other guy – in my entire life. I looked at the car parked in front of the school. And half of the student body seemed to be looking in my direction. Embarrassed, I grumbled a quick goodbye to Jordan and walked towards the red pick-up truck.

What was the point of growing up if I was still being treated like a two-year-old?

I opened the door and got in. Glared a little and slammed the door for effect. All the effort I made of having enough time to hang out with Jordan was for nothing.

"Done with the hissy fit?"

"Not – even - close," I bit back, looking at the idiot for the first time. His hair was longer than the last time and his skin a little darker. His plaid shirt was unbuttoned, with a wife beater underneath, and the sleeves rolled up. He was the only person I knew who would wear a shirt-shorts combo in the middle of February. I was cold enough with a sweater and my jacket on.

He was surely crazy.

"I refuse to let you talk to that boy," he firmly stated matter-of-factly and straight to the point. As if I didn't know he'd bring it up.

"Sure," I answered.

"I'm serious," and he looked at me sternly for affect. I rolled my eyes and leaned back on my seat as the car rolled out of the school parking lot. A let the wind in through the cracked window and closed my eyes. I replayed the scene with Jordan in my head and got frustrated. I balled my fists at each side of me and cringed inwardly.

Quil Ateara was going to be the death of me.