After twenty million cycles of rereading, rough drafting, and proof-reading it to death, here it is! My new story, Remembering Sunday! And it's titled after one of my favorite songs ever. Review if you know who sings it. And remember: THIS IS NOT A REMAKE OF TWILIGHT!! This is simply a story with the same idea of Twilight. I do not mean to infringe on any copyrights and whatnot. Enjoy!

Chapter 1.

BREAKFAST

I've lived in the gloomy town of Forks, Washington all my life. I guess you could say that by your twelfth year of living here you're waterlogged, but Forks citizens find a way to live through this permanent melancholy existence.

It's not like I've spent every day of my life in Forks; I was brought here by my mother at five years old, and living in Forks was a decision she put much thought into once she decided she wanted to wallow in her misery. And the tiny town of Forks is just perfect for depression.

Once school is over, I spend summers halfway across the country with my father in Florida. Let's just say this whole country isn't enough space between my mother and father. Ever since a particularly nasty divorce while I was just a toddler, they've been doing nothing but butting heads. Luckily, they try to keep things short and sweet whenever they're forced to speak to eachother, and it's simply regarding custody over me and my older sister Alyson.

Much to her dismay, Alyson spends summers in Forks; a vacation she makes a show of despising every year. She lives year-round in Tampa, Florida, the lightning capital of the United States. I spend summers with my father in Tampa and live year-round in the rainiest city in the United States. Let's just say I got the short end of the stick, but there's something I like about Forks. Call me crazy.

When my mother raised the option of moving to Forks with her, I graciously offered to leave behind almost everything I loved; beaches, the sun, the comfort of a backyard pool, palm trees, etc. in exchange for perpetual rainshowers and parkas galore.

Every morning, I wake up and take a shower; sort of a foreshadowing of what I will be wading through only hours later. My medium length brown hair is naturally wavy, a trait I inherited from my mother, who chopped most of her hair off by the time she reached the age of forty. I actually take the time to blow dry my thick mane of hair this morning, which is the morning we return from Winter Break. The blowdryer warms me up before I step out into the cool air that pelts me with icy raindrops. I pull the hood of my parka over my head and walk down the driveway to my seventeenth birthday present, a black Mazda 3, with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I try to shake some of the rain off my jacket before getting into the drivers' seat, but it's a worthless effort.

I guess you could say that this morning wouldn't be any different from any other morning in Forks. It's midway through my Junior year, so why should I expect this to be any different than any of the days in the beginning of eleventh grade? I should have bitten my tongue, because this morning started off a little worse.

I was about to climb into my car when a black Audi A5 raced down my street. Both of the right tires zoomed through a puddle of water that had pooled in a dip in the curb, which resulted in splashing my entire body, half of my car, and the majority of my slaved-over hair.

"Thanks a lot, asswipe!" I shouted to nobody, seeing as the Audi had already turned the corner and disappeared. I groaned and tried to brush off the muddy water on my ensemble, but it only spread the sludge further into the denim of my jeans. I stormed back inside to change, fully aware that this would make me late, and bolted up the stairs, where I peeled off my wet clothes.

"Is everything all right, Brooke?" my mother asked from downstairs, obviously concerned. My mother works part time at the Thriftway, one of the only grocery stores in Forks, so she usually was busy during most of the day except the early morning.

"Everything's fine, mom," I called back as I stepped into my comfiest stretchy jeans. I hung my wet clothes up in the bathroom and pulled on a different parka before I headed downstairs and said goodbye to my mother.

"I'll see you later, honey," she said, right as I closed the door behind me. I hurried into the driver's seat, buckled myself in, and drove quickly to the school parking lot, upset to find that I had to park farther from the campus than I normally would have if I'd been earlier.

I sloshed through a puddle that my crappy parking spot entailed and made my way towards North Building when I spotted the accursed Audi. My blood boiled hot in my veins and I stormed over to the car to find its owner, only to find that the car was empty. I was examining the expensive vehicle when a perfectly composed voice from behind me startled me.

"May I help you?" he asked.

I jumped. "Um, sorry," I mumbled, turning to walk away.

"Is there something you needed?" his voice had a hint of a British lilt to it, and his eyes were amused when they met mine. He had messy, honey colored hair that was brushed over his forehead, and raindrops glistened on his pale skin.

"Is this your car?" I asked, trying not to stare at him.

"Yes, it is," he replied, leaning up against it proudly, completely unconcerned that his entire backside was probably damp now.

"Thanks for splashing me earlier this morning," I said coldly, turning on my heel to walk away. The boy didn't follow me, and it surprised me how much I'd wanted him to. I stopped by my locker momentarily to exchange my books, hyperaware that I had wasted way too much time this morning to be lollygagging. I glanced in the mirror and stifled a groan at my appearance. I knew I didn't have time to obsess over my hair disaster, so I simply retrieved a notebook and my heavy History textbook and held them in my arms. I couldn't resist the temptation to fix my hair, so I set my books down and tried to squeeze some of the excess moisture out of my hair, which did absolutely no good, and resulted in tying it into a high ponytail.

I gathered my books again and sighed. This was about as good as it was going to get. When I shut my locker door, I jerked at the sight of the strange boy who'd splashed me.

"So I'm an 'asswipe', am I?" he asked lightly, a hint of British descent audible in his voice. My brow furrowed momentarily as I scanned through my memory, and I was shocked to find that he'd heard my fury-driven slur after all. Even down the street. I hadn't screamed that loud, had I?

"Did you catch a glimpse at how wet I was?" I asked, hearing the annoyance in my voice. I glanced up at him to see if I had struck a wrong nerve, but he seemed indifferent to my petulance. He was surprisingly tall, and he had about five inches on me, despite the fact that I was 5''10.

"I'm sorry, I honestly didn't see you at all," he said, laughing to himself.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered. I quickened my pace a little. I didn't like how my stomach flip-flopped when his odd eyes met mine. They were a strange golden color, not quite copper, but more of an ocher.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," he said determinedly, stepping in front of me to cut off my rapid pace. A quick glance around me confirmed that the halls were nearly empty besides us, and I fidgeted in place anxiously.

"Look, I'm going to be late if I don't get to class soon," I said, trying to step past him. He didn't hesitate to slide over and block me again.

"My name's Sebastian LeBlanc," he said warmly, holding out his hand.

"Brooke Dessen," I said, staring at it unmovingly. His hand remained in the air for a few awkward seconds before he retreated it, and I brushed past him as I headed towards first period World History.

"I'll see you around," he called from behind me. He made it very clear that this wouldn't be the last time I would be seeing him judging by the sincere tone in his voice. In the classroom, I claimed my seat next to my best friend Jodi, who exploded in a vivacious conversation about a cute new student a year older than us.

I absentmindedly nodded at every few points she made about him, and it wasn't until she raised comments about his dirty blonde hair and golden eyes that I realized who she was describing. I debated as to whether or not I should bring up that Sebastian was the person who'd made me late, then decided against it. I love Jodi, but she would probably tell everybody about it unnecessarily and cause a ripple of gossip to occur, and I just didn't want that.

Every time my mind floated to thoughts of his perfectly angular jaw, his pearly white teeth, and his tousled honey blonde hair, I would snap out of it and continue to act as if I was actually interested in whatever Mrs. Picoult continued to drone on about. I was so focused on not mulling over Sebastian's stunning features that I wasn't listening when she announced a pop quiz.

"What are we doing?" I hissed to Jodi, who had already turned to the sheet of looseleaf paper she was writing a heading on.

"Pop quiz," she whispered back, handing me a sheet of looseleaf from under her pile. I dug a ballpoint pen out of my bookbag and headed my paper, completely lost as to what this test would even be about. I cringed as I waited for Mrs. Picoult to announce the instructions.

"In your own words, describe the lesson I just explained," she ordered, sitting in her chair. My eyes widened in horror as I faced the sheet of paper in front of me, and I contemplated everything she'd just said. So far, all I could recall was the hum that all the adults in Charlie Brown made. If I had any hope of passing this class with an "A", I would really need to pay attention.

"Psst, Jodi!" I hissed.

She glanced up from her quiz.

"What are you writing?" I mouthed.

She shrugged, her eyes wide with hopeless bewilderment, and returned to scribbling down whatever she could manage. Okay, now I was positive I wasn't the only one who had tuned out Mrs. Picoult's blathering, so maybe I would get some brownie points for describing a previous lesson I could remember. When the bell rang, I stumbled to the front desk and reluctantly turned in the paper before I gathered my belongings and headed out the door with a defeated sentiment washing over me. I headed straight for my locker to deposit the books I could, but stupidly didn't put to good use, and was startled to find Sebastian leaning up against it, blocking my entrance.

"I really need to get my books," I informed him, waiting for him to move. When he didn't, I sighed and groped for the handle to attempt to yank it open despite his presence. His unflagging company was starting to get on my nerves, and I groaned when I realized it was a pointless attempt trying to get past him.

"Will you please move?" I asked, annoyed.

"Not until you forgive me for dousing you with water," he said, flashing a big smile that nearly blinded me.

I blinked. "I forgive you," I said unsincerely. "Now please move."

He obliged, only stepping off to the side while I unlocked the door and crammed my books into the tiny space. He watched me intently while I withdrew my Honors Geometry books and then glanced into the mirror.

"You look beautiful," he said bluntly. I whirled to face him, stunned.

"Um, thanks," I said uncomfortably. I slowly swung the door closed and began to walk down the hall, not really surprised when he fell into step with me.

"How was History?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Awful. I just failed horrendously," I replied, grimacing at the thought.

He chuckled. "How?"

"Let's just say my mind was elsewhere when she was explaining the lesson she quizzed us on," I said in a conversation-ending tone, hoping he would take the hint and not pry any more. We had stopped walking and were facing eachother while students bustled around us.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, his eyes oddly pleased. My eyebrows pulled together and I eyed him suspiciously. I was hoping it wasn't completely obvious that my thoughts had never ceased to drift towards him, and it was a little alarming that his smile grew wider the longer I hesitated. It was impossible to think he could read my mind. Was I just that transparent?

Suddenly the bell rang, interrupting my impractical reverie and signaling my tardiness.

"Thanks a lot!" I exclaimed furiously, throwing my free hand up while I hurried down the hall and towards the math classroom. Thanks to Sebastian's amazing ability to consume time and the impossibly brief five-minute interlude between classes, there was a very minuscule possibility of me making it to Mr. Krauss's classroom without having the door slammed in my face. Thankfully, Sebastian didn't follow me when I raced away at full speed. He simply stayed glued to the floor. It wasn't as if the bell's ringing only applied to me. I didn't look back as I made a hurried beeline towards Mr. Krauss's bland classroom.

"Tell me later, then," Sebastian called. Stupidly, I glanced behind me, and was thoroughly surprised to see that he had disappeared. How fast did he have to be to leave the hallway in a matter of a few seconds? In order to prevent a collision with a wall, I slowed at the outside of the classroom, only to find that Mr. Krauss had already closed the door. That could only mean one thing, and it wasn't good. I knocked frantically, hoping he would excuse my lateness if I explained to him that a strange gorgeous boy had slowed my attempts to come to class on time by the exploitation of his hypnotizing eyes.

Oh yeah, he'd buy that.

Mr. Krauss answered the door, a sour look on his face, and he scrutinized me apathetically.

"Please let me in. I swear won't happen again," I pleaded, trying to step past him unsuccessfully. I pretended like I didn't hear the obnoxious snickers directed at me coming from inside the classroom.

"No can do, little lady, " he stopped me in my tracks. "You have to go to the Administration Office and pick up a tardy slip."

I stifled back a disrespectful outburst as I turned on my heel and took my time as l stalked outside into the light drizzle. I began to walk in the direction of the administration office, but became a little apprehensive when I heard footsteps behind me. They were coming closer and louder when finally I whirled around, only to find that nobody was following me. I was seriously going insane.

"So you got kicked out of math class, huh?" an alluring voice from beside me asked. I jumped a foot in the air and shrieked at his swift appearance, then suddenly realized he had been the footsteps.

"Where did you come from?" I demanded, clutching at my heart in a pathetic attempt to console it's hyperactive beating. It was pounding in my chest, threatening to burst out of my ribcage.

"You're not the only one who was late. I thought I'd sneak up on you," he said, grinning down at me. I glowered at him, many bitingly sarcastic thoughts crossing my mind.

"How very thoughtful of you," I muttered.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked, becoming apruptly serious. I dropped the acerbic act instantly and focused on his stunning face that was studying mine with apparent misunderstanding.

"Sure," I mumbled, watching his tawny eyes as he formed a question in his mind. I noticed we'd stopped walking.

"Why do hate me so much?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. I admit it, his question stung a little. He thought I hated him? If only he knew that most of the little things about him had been making me obsessed with him. Was I portraying my fixation for him as resentment?

"I, uh..." I stammered. Great. Now on top of thinking I hate him, he must think I'm a moron, too.

"I don't hate you," I finally said, once I got a grasp on my coherency.

"Well, you have a strange way of showing it," he muttered, so lowly I barely heard it.

"Look, I'm sorry if I made it seem like that. You're just really frustrating," I affirmed. To my relief, his face lightened.

He chuckled at my observation. "Thanks."

I smiled apologetically for a moment before I decided to change the subject to something less uncomfortable. "So what class did you get kicked out of?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"Physics," he replied with a quick grin. His eyes were focused on something in the distance, but they shifted to me when he noticed I was studying him.

"So you're a science geek?" I teased.

He snorted. "Geek?"

"I'm kidding. You don't seem like a geek," I laughed.

"Too handsome?" he guessed, raising his eyebrows.

"Nah. Too egotistical," I decided.

He clutched at his heart. "Ouch. You wounded me."

I patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"You're right about me not being a geek, though. I'm an artist," he said finally.

"Oh, really?" I asked, interested now.

"I don't think I'll tell you how, though," he decided after a short pause.

"You're not doing a very good job of proving your case. How do I know you're really an artist like you claim?"

He chuckled. "I'll let you figure it out on your own," he said, picking up a steady pace towards the Administration Office again.

"What if I lose interest and I stop caring?"

He contemplated that for a moment. "Then it will be your loss."

"Well, then I accept the challenge. Let the prying begin," I said.

"Pry all you want. My lips are sealed," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. While his eyes bored into mine, I felt butterflies emerge in my stomach, my heartbeat accelerate, and my palms begin to sweat. It was stupid to be feeling this way. No, it was more than stupid. It was pathetic.

How long had I known Sebastian? A few hours? I thought this feeling came later. I realized that I had frozen in place and he was already twenty feet ahead of me, and still walking. Once I had snapped out of my momentary trance, he turned around and asked, "Aren't you coming?"

I shook my head, a sudden surge of defiance running through me. "No."

Confusion darted across his beautiful features, perfectly visible even from a distance. "Why not?"

"I feel sick," I lied, heading towards the parking lot now. I knew I was a horrible liar; I'd been told numerous times by my friends and family that my lies were so hopelessly palpable that I would be doomed to a life of truthfulness. My voice rose involuntarily when I lied, making it a dead giveaway. I didn't even hear footsteps this time when he snuck up behind me, gripped my wrist, and spun me to face him.

"You're lying," he accused, his eyes ablaze.

"So?" I asked. "Let me go!"

I thrashed in his iron grip and was shocked at how strong he was. What really took me by surprise was how cold he was. I shivered at his icy touch, and goosebumps spread over every inch of my skin. I flinched back for a split second. Talk about having the magic touch.

A surge of maternal compassion coursed through me.

"Are you okay?" I demanded suddenly, placing the palm of my free hand on his forehead. "You're ice cold!"

"I'm fine," he said, stunned by my observation.

"Are you sure?" I pressed. His hand went limp around my wrist and he took a step back from me, as if my touch had stung him. His eyes were wary for a few seconds before they returned to normal, and he changed the subject and began to amble along beside me. I matched his pace hesitantly.

"So where are you going?" he asked, sighing.

"I'm not sure. I just don't want to stay here," I admitted.

He looked slightly hurt. "Is it me?"

"What? No!" I said hurriedly. "No, I just...I don't know. You want to go somewhere?"

He was displaying a mixture of confused and astonished on his beautiful face. He stared at me in disbelief. "Together?"

I glanced around uneasily at his reaction and nodded.

His head tilted to the side. "Like where?"

"I don't know. Any suggestions?" I asked.

"How about we go get breakfast together?" he suggested.

I shrugged. "Sure." I didn't want to seem too eager, but I was secretly excited to be spending time with him. We headed towards the parking lot together, but I paused in front of his Audi.

"It won't bite," he pointed out, grinning at me. His smile nearly made my knees turn to Jell-O, and I strode over to the passenger seat and went inside. He turned the heater up and fiddled with the radio for a few seconds before giving up.

"Nice car," I commented, although cars weren't exactly a guilty pleasure for me. To be honest, they bored me to tears. The only reason I had ever displayed any interest in them was during the months prior to my birthday, where I found a way to work my Mazda fetish into every conversation with both of my parents until they finally caved, only for the sake of getting me off their back.

"Thanks, it was a birthday present from my brother and sister," he explained. Shocked by what he'd revealed, I faced him.

"You have siblings?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes, Anneleise is my step-sister, and Chace is my step- brother."

"Why haven't I seen them in school?"

"Anneleise is a year older than me, and Chace is six years older. We just moved here from New Hampshire," he clarified.

"Wow," I breathed.

He chuckled. "It's a long story."

We were already parked flawlessly in front of a small diner that I'd never seen before, so I figured that we either weren't in town anymore or I didn't know Forks as well as I thought I did after twelve years. He gently shut his door behind him and appeared beside my door before I could even reach towards the handle. I opened my door and followed him inside, where a middle aged lady seated us at a small booth in the corner of the diner. I slid in across from him and eagerly awaited for him to begin telling his story.

"I've got time," I persisted, not hesitating to display the interest that he had sparked in me. He was certainly intriguing.

He gathered his thoughts before he spoke. "My father Giovanni met his fiance Jolene at twenty and had Anneleise shortly after their engagement. My mother Lily married her high school sweetheart Peter and they had Chace. Sadly, Peter died in the military, and Jolene died giving birth to Anneleise. My parents met many years later in Dover, New Hampshire, fell in love, married, and gave birth to me."

"Wow," I repeated. My jaw was quivering at the freezing air conditioning that was surrounding us. Goosebumps spread over my skin underneath my clothes.

"How did your parents meet?" he asked fascinatedly.

"They met in a sandwich shop in Tampa, Florida they both worked at. It's not exactly a story worth sharing," I muttered.

"Go on, I'm listening," he assured, doing a good job of appearing interested. He placed both his elbows on the table and had his hands folded under his chin while he waited.

I sighed and tried to focus on explaining comprehensibly instead of the frigid air that was blowing directly on me. I rubbed my hands over my thighs in an attempt to warm them up and began explaining, "If you were to ask either of my parents now, they would tell you this story is irrelevent or never happened. My mother was the assistant manager at a sandwich shop while my dad was the delivery boy. They started off as friends, if you could call it that, and then it progressed into a relationship. They quit their jobs together and eloped. They waited a few years before having Alyson. I was born three years later. When I was about four, they began to fight endlessly, and by the time my fifth year rolled around, divorce papers had been signed."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

I shrugged. "It's not hard for me to talk about anymore. Explaining to a class of Kindergarteners why my mommy, daddy, sister and myself weren't a happy family anymore wasn't fun, though."

He smiled sympathetically at me.

"I'll be right with you," a passing waitress said quickly.

I turned to my menu. "What are you going to have?" I asked uninterestedly.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, pushing the menu away from him. The way he'd said those three words sounded as if they were rehearsed. I shrugged it off, wondering why he'd suggested getting breakfast if he was just going to pass it up. "How about you?" he inquired.

"I'm thinking about the double egg sunrise," I replied, setting the menu down. He just nodded, his eyes distant. I leaned back in my seat, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched him intently. I waited for him to notice I was staring.

"Yes?" he asked, glancing up at me through his eyelashes.

I continued to gape.

"What are you doing?" His eyes were teasing.

I perched my head on my fist, never breaking his gaze. He gave up asking and imitated my posture. His golden eyes held mine for what seemed like hours until the waitress interrupted us.

"Hi, I'm Kelsey. What would you like to drink?" she asked warmly, not taking her eyes off Sebastian.

I cleared my throat, interrupting her longing stare towards him. "I'll have a water, please," I requested politely.

"I'll have the same," Sebastian said.

"Okay." She turned on her heel and left, seeming annoyed.

And the staring contest resumed.

"May I ask why you're staring at me?" he asked.

I shrugged. "You're just so damn sexy," I blurted.

He laughed loudly. "I'm counting on that," he finally murmured.

"Counting on that for what?"

"Keeping you here," he replied solemnly.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said stubbornly.

"That's not exactly in your best interest," he warned.

My brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

"You'll see, soon enough," he said lightly.

"I won't forget," I informed him. My eyes began to water and I blinked numerous times. He smiled victoriously, and I rolled my eyes.

He decided to change the subject. "So you never told me what you were thinking about in your History class that caused you to fail miserably."

"Ah," I said, leaning towards him and whispering, "Maybe that's because I don't want you to know."

He grinned, as if accepting a challenge.

"I'll tell you what I was thinking about in my first period English class," he offered. I weighed my options in my head, deciding as to whether or not it was worth it. If he had just been daydreaming about the bleach blonde sitting beside him the whole time, I would have to spill my thoughts and get nothing but typical male dim-wittedness in return. I was so busy contemplating my decision that I hadn't noticed when the waitress came back and set down our waters.

"Are you ready to order?" Kelsey asked, looking relieved that our staring contest was over.

Sebastian nodded, and she turned to him first. "What would you like?" she asked overenthusiastically. I was surprised at how much Kelsey's interest in him was annoying me.

"Nothing for me, please," Sebastian said, turning his gaze on me. I blinked for a second before I could regain my thoughts. What was I going to order again? The silence dragged on as my memory blanked, and Sebastian took the reigns.

"She would like the double egg sunrise," he told Kelsey, fluidly handing her both our menus. Kelsey nodded, a little perplexed by my ignominy, and left with the menus in her manicured hand.

"Are you okay?" Sebastian asked in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, fine," I said hurriedly. "And it's a deal. What were you thinking about in your English class?"

He grinned. "You tell me first."

I scowled. "Deal's off, then."

"Fine," he said, leaning towards me. "I was thinking about this beautiful girl that I met this morning."

I sank into my seat. "Oh," I breathed. My suspicions had been slightly true.

"I meant you, Brooke," he murmured, his eyes intense.

"Oh," I repeated, enthusiasm dripping in my voice.

"Now you," he instructed. When I just stared at him blankly, he elaborated, "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about this boy that splashed me with muddy water earlier this morning," I said. He looked repentant until I continued. "And I couldn't stop thinking about how amazing he is." He smiled now, his tawny eyes locked with my plain brown eyes. His intense gaze shocked me a little, and it was more momentous than our lighthearted staring contest. I shifted my gaze to the side and looked away from him, an awkward feeling suddenly taking over me.

"I think we should go back to school after breakfast," I mumbled.

He nodded, unfazed by timidity. "I think that's best."

"How are you an artist?" I asked suddenly, turning back to his penetrating gaze.

"What?" His eyebrows knit in confusion.

"How are you an artist?" I repeated.

He smiled. "I'll show you sometime," he promised. Kelsey returned then with my plate of eggs in her hand. She set them down and, to my relief, left us alone. I took one bite and was surprised by ravenous my hunger was.

"You're hungry," he pointed out unnecessarily.

I nodded while I chewed. It remained relatively silent for the rest of the breakfast despite the sounds of my utensils clinking on my plate. I drained my water in an instant, and Sebastian offered his to me instantly. I wondered why his thirst and appetite were nonexistent. He watched me intently while I ate, making me apprehensive and slightly self-concious. I set my utensils down and wiped my mouth on a napkin, signaling that I was done.

"Are you done?" he asked after I took a final sip of my water.

I slid out from the booth while he placed a tip on the table, and I excused myself to the bathroom while he paid at the counter. I stood behind a large mirror and let out a huge sigh. I didn't actually have to use the restroom at all, but it was a believable excuse.

I jerked when the door swung open and a lady in her mid-eighties hobbled into a stall behind me. I turned the faucet on, letting a cool stream of water douse my wrists, relaxing me just a little bit, and I dried my forearms before I met Sebastian by the door. He stated silent on the way to the car, and once inside, it was nice and warm, a nice alternative from the glacial air conditioning inside the diner.

"What class do you have next?" Sebastian asked casually.

"After Math I have Physical Fitness," I replied in a monotone voice. Questions about my schedule frequently annoyed me. However, it was hard to seem peeved when someone's voice was so handsome.

"So do I," he said coolly, grinning at me.

I gulped. Have I mentioned that I'm not the sports type?

I hope you enjoyed that! Finding names that I thought suited the characters is like, ten times harder than I ever imagined, so bear with me even if you think the names suck, lol. If you liked it, hated it, have any constructive criticism, etc. please review. I love hearing your opinions about this. This was a fun story to write. So please tell me what you think!

-legallyxbrunette