He wasn't going to lie. He was bored and there was a very innocent and pretty girl in the room. They were at band camp and though Ricky had seen this girl only once or twice around the campus, he had never really realized how attractive she was. Now he just watched her from where he was sitting, behind the large band drums. What was her name? Ricky searched through his memory banks for a split second before he conjured up the name 'Amy Juergens'. He continued to watch her, his playboy mind-set mentally undressing her. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize Amy was stirring uncomfortably where she stood, feeling an unknown pair of eyes watching her from behind.

She turned around, and swept a quick but nervous cursory glance behind her, her eyes finally settling on Ricky's. Ricky started when he realized she had caught him out. Recovering with the speed of a predator, he gave her his signature 'bad boy' smirk. A deep rosy flush blossomed over her cheeks and she looked away, but not before he caught a hint of a defiant, determined look in her eyes. He frowned, confused. Why did she look like that? A loud voice broke his reverie.

"All right, French horns and basses, you'll be sitting in front of the drummers and the other percussionists. Who's first?" The female teacher paused, eyes scanning through the crowd of students. Eventually, it fixed on one and she called "Hey, the girl at the front," Amy started at being pointed at. "Hi there, welcome to band camp." The teacher smiled reassuringly at her. "You'll be sitting right at the end, in front of the guy behind the drums," she pointed to Amy's place. Amy grimaced a little and lugged her French horn to her allocated seat, exactly diagonal to where Ricky was. She sat down, looking firmly straight ahead, determined not to look into his deep, unfathomable brown eyes. He too, humoured her by staring down at his score sheet, but he couldn't seem to help but glance up at her from under his lashes every now and again.

She could both feel and see his gaze on her from time to time, and she felt uncomfortable but, strangely, rather flattered. Ricky had the indisputable reputation of being able to sleep with any girl he wanted and that reputation certainly wasn't exactly undeserved, or at least, that was what Amy had heard. She knew many girls had lost their virginity to him, having fallen for his charm and rugged good looks, and she was determined not to get sucked into his trap. But those dark brown eyes just kept drifting back into her mind.

Ricky smirked when he remembered the way she blushed. His mind seemed to have magically erased the hard look in her eyes, and though he knew it was there, he did not let it faze him. He knew that this girl, this innocent naïve little girl, had reacted to him and it gave his ego the boost it needed for him to lean in and whisper seductively, "Hey there," into her ear. She stiffened and turned around slowly, caution veiling her eyes.

"Hi…" she murmured, almost unintelligibly. Amy knit her eyebrows together, cautiously withdrawn.

"I'm Ricky," he smiled, trying to seem pleasant and genuine. She nodded, looking away.

"I know." That was all she said before she abruptly turned around, her cheeks burning brightly. Ricky frowned. Why couldn't he get more of a reaction out of her? He nodded slightly, acknowledging he answer and leaned back into his chair.

What was he doing? No, what was she doing? Amy was panicking inside. Her quiet, undisturbed soul that had lived happily for the past fifteen years without being harassed was now in a tumult. This hard-eyed, charming predator that sat behind her was tearing her insides to pieces.

She sneaked a glance at him, and by God was he beautiful. Her heart thumped forcefully as she looked at him. His hair was gently tousled and his dark eyes were framed with long lashes. He was tall, but not gangly, having an extremely desirable washboard body. All of this added to his allure but what Amy really couldn't stop staring at was his lips. His lips were exquisitely shaped; so different to anything she'd ever seen. His upper lip was always quirked and now that Amy looked closely, she saw that one of the curves of his lip was a little higher than the other. Instead of creating a completely lopsided look however, it only made him look more mysterious. She sat, transfixed by his face that she didn't notice herself gradually turning around to gaze at him. She didn't realize that he could feel her eyes on him until he was looking her straight in the eye.

"Looking at something?" he teased, grinning at her. Amy blushed furiously, the colour flooding into her cheeks. She stuttered out a 'Sorry,' before turning around to stare at hands while Ricky smirked at her from behind.
He was very amused. Amy looked so embarrassed to be caught ogling him that he wanted to laugh aloud. Ricky knew that he had a bad reputation, a reputation only the majorettes didn't care about. They were easy and fun but Ricky enjoyed a challenge. That was exactly where girls like Amy Juergens came in. He enjoyed luring innocent girls into his trap. It almost gave him a sense of achievement.

Finally, after hours and hours of tedium in the band room, the lunch bell rang. Students of every size and age poured out from the summer camp classrooms and flooded into the cafeteria. Amy, who didn't really have any friends at band camp, trailed slowly behind the flock of students. Not that she felt lonely, she was perfectly happy in a little world of her own. Only when she got her lunch, however, did she start to feel a little like a lone solider at war, for most of the other students had friends and were sitting together. This left Amy no choice but to sit alone, as she was scared of sitting with others, not wanting to feel pushy. Her roommate, Gale, had lunch in town but Amy's parents had been reluctant to let her do so, and here she was, alone and stuck.

She set her lunch down on the colourful plastic table and sat down on one of the wooden chairs tucked under there. She started picking at her sandwich paper and gingerly pulled the moist sheet off, starting to tuck in.

Only then did she hear, and what's more sense, someone coming towards her. Ricky Underwood. With his bad boy swagger, he had every female eye on him as he strode down the hall. Then, with a wave of force, every eye turned to Amy once it became evident that Ricky was walking towards her. Colour exploded over Amy's cheeks and she could feel the blood and heat rushing all the way up to her temples so fast that it made her head spin. She looked warily up at him.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing towards the empty chair beside her. Amy knew she couldn't say no, not without seeming rude. She nodded slightly, looking back down at her sandwich. Amy heard the chair scrape back and felt Ricky sit down.

"So, Amy Juergens how's band camp so far?" Ricky asked, grinning at her. Amy's head shot up at that.

"H-how do you know my name?" She was alarmed, eyes as large and innocent as a china doll.

"We go to school together don't we?" he chuckled at her expression.

Amy pursed her lips and looked up worriedly at him. Where was this conversation leading? She wasn't sure she wanted an answer.

Amy jumped up and blurted out the best excuse she could think of: "I…I have to go…to p-practice." She bit her lip watching him, praying desperately that he would buy it. Ricky frowned up at her and said slowly, "All right…well…okay. I'll walk you there then." He didn't wait for an answer; instead, he stood up, grabbed his lunch and walked purposefully towards the exit of the cafeteria, trying to start a conversation with thin air, as he didn't realize she wasn't following him. Only when he was half way there did he realize that Amy wasn't right behind him. Just about all of the eyes of every female in the room, yes they were following, but not Amy.

He smirked at them, producing a tidal wave of flurried whispering. Ricky looked at Amy and gestured with his head to the door. Her face, already a bright red turned even more so at that. She grabbed her horn and lunch, walking slowly towards him, head slightly bowed, as if to avoid the attention of everyone in the room.

Amy walked slowly beside Ricky, listening to his crash-and-burn attempts at conversation. The French horn in her arms was really heavy and she shifted the weight uncomfortably. Ricky noticed the movement and said, "Amy, it's too heavy for you. Here, let me hold it."

Amy shook her head, eyebrows knit in determination.

Ricky sighed and said again, "Amy. The instrument is too damn heavy. Just give it to me already." He didn't say it forcefully, but Amy was compelled to give it to him. She looked at his face and saw concern in his eyes…but there was something else. All thoughts on trying to figure out what that 'something else' was dissipated when Ricky tilted his head a little, still staring deeply into her eyes. He leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to hers. Amy gasped and pushed him away. However, this was hard for her, holding the awkwardly large French horn.

Ricky took his chance and grabbed it out of her arms.
Amy stared at him, shocked, then annoyance flooded into her eyes. Ricky grinned, deliberately provoking her.

"Ricky, give me back the horn!" she demanded, stopping in her tracks. He smiled easily at her and said, "Just let me try and be the gentleman, please?" He said it almost mockingly and Amy's anger flared. She looked away and muttered, "More like a sex-addicted man whore."

A pregnant silence washed over the both of them. Then Amy heard Ricky sigh a sound of surrender. "You're right you know. I am a little too…sexually active." He'd admitted it. Amy looked at him from under her lashes, innocently curious once again, her anger gone.

"Why do you do it?" she asked it like a child, so sweet and untouched by the harsh world around her.
Ricky's predatory mind whirred like a clockwork machine. He had to come up with something to say, and fast. It had to be good, but it also had to be something that would make Amy sympathize him. Ricky was going to play the sympathy card.

"Well…I loved a girl once." He paused, as if this was very hard for him. "I loved her very much…but it turns out, she was just using me to get back at her ex. Once he came back and apologized, bam, she was gone in a second. I guess I never really forgave her. After that I just…I let go of myself." Ricky looked down, as if ashamed.

Amy's breath caught in her throat as she watched Ricky confess his story to her. She probed him to look at her and said gently, "I…I guess-" Amy was stuttering again and she steeled herself to say, "People can do bad things but that doesn't mean they're bad people. I think you need to sober up a little Ricky. Don't use bad sex as a getaway from your broken heart." This was just like in those TV shows that Amy watched, changing the 'bad boy' and everything. Amy, so influenced by the social media that had been pushed towards her, was now completely ignoring all the rumours she had heard about Ricky. She smiled gently at him.

Ricky looked up from his shoes and at her. He pulled up his brave-solider-smile and said, "Thanks Amy."

She smiled, feeling like she was the only person in the world who had got to him and was on the way to helping him out of his black hole. Innocent little Amy Juergens didn't suspect a thing.

Amy peered around the turn of the corridor as she walked down the long, familiar hallway. As little as she wanted to admit it she was looking for Ricky. She couldn't help but feel happy when she thought back to a few days ago, when Ricky had opened up to her. Whenever she saw him he would smile at her, like they shared a special secret. She didn't get a chance to talk to him after that day, as the whole camp was preparing for their final performance and things were really hectic, but she was hoping that she could sneak a conversation with him before the orchestra had another one of their gruelling practices.

Turning the corner, Amy was disappointed when she couldn't see him in the bustling crowd of students and instructors. Then, out of the blue, she felt someone touch her arm from behind and she whipped around only to crash straight into Ricky.

"I'm so sorry!" she blinked and realized Fate had run her into just who she was looking for. "Oh, hey Ricky," she smiled at him.

He grinned back at her, "Hey Amy, I've been looking for you."

Amy's heart did a leap-and-plunge. "R-really?" she squeaked.

Ricky chuckled, "Yeah. I wanted to ask you something,"

Amy's cheeks coloured faintly and said, "Yeah?"

"So…you know how there's an "end of camp" dance?" She nodded, her heart thumping loudly against her rib cage. "I was wondering if you…wanna go with me?" Ricky faked an embarrassed look. That one always got the shy chicks.

Colour rushed up to Amy's cheeks and the pounding of the blood in her head made her dizzy. Did Ricky just ask her out? 'Keep your cool Amy, keep your cool!' a voice in her head screamed. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was an unintelligible stutter. He looked confused, and frowned. Amy, blushing furiously said, "Y-yeah…okay. I'll go with you." Ricky's face cleared and he grinned down at her. "That's awesome. I'll see you in practice then Amy." He smiled at her one last time before he turned and left towards the practice rooms.

Amy watched him go and she stood there, smiling like a fool in the middle of the flood of students in the corridor, hugging herself gleefully. Ricky Underwood had asked her to the dance and all her past apprehension was forgotten. She shrugged, still smiling. She might as well not bother with her previous fear of Ricky being a psychotic womanizer. Let the girls gossip and the boys mutter because Amy Jurghens was going out with Californian bad boy Ricky Underwood and she couldn't care less about what people were saying.

Score. That was all that ran through Ricky Underwood's head for the rest of the day.

It was the last day of the five-day programmed and the annual summer band camp dance was scheduled for that night, the last night before all of the students said they're goodbyes and went home after their big show in the morning.

Amy was locked in her dorm room, getting ready for the 'big night' and fretting about it like nothing. Her roommate, Gale was sitting on her bed reading a magazine. Gale was pretty and popular but she had decided against this dance, as she was still getting over a bad breakup. When Amy came out of the bathroom all dressed up, Gale whistled.

"Girl, you look hot!" she exclaimed, grinning at her. Amy smiled back nervously. The butterflies in her stomach weren't butterflies anymore, they were boulders, rolling and tumbling about in their furious wake, like the children of Kronos trapped in their tyrant of a father's stomach.

Amy looked at herself in the mirror. She was pleased with what she saw but something wasn't quite right. Gale had lent her a dress and a pair of 'suitable' (as she had phrased it) shoes for the dance. The dress was white and strapless with a plunging neckline. It rippled down to her knees where it flared out a little in it's pretty, flowing sheerness. At the waist there was a satin gold ribbon that accentuated her hips and small waist. Amy's feet were adorned with a pair of creamy white-heeled flats with suede beige flowers at the toes. She cocked her head to one side and frowned, trying to figure out what was missing. Gale, ever the fashionista, gestured for her to sit down on her bed. Gale pulled out a pretty white ribbon from the first drawer of her dresser and started braiding it into Amy's copper coloured hair. When she was done, she grinned sportingly at Amy and said, "Go get some hot stuff." Amy laughed and left the room, cream clutch in hand.

Standing at the entrance of the hall, Ricky waited for Amy, but as there were pretty girls drifting in and out, he certainly wasn't complaining about the time. Ricky frowned at his outfit, a grey button down shirt with dark skinny jeans…Maybe he was dressed a little too causally. Then he shrugged. Ricky Underwood had never needed to try to impress the girls and so he didn't need to start now.

"Hey," Ricky heard a soft voice behind him. He turned around, expecting Amy in her normal, good-girl clothes. But there she was, looking both innocent and tempting at the same time. Amy wasn't hot, and she wasn't sexy, a complete polar opposite from the majorettes he usually 'hung out' with. However, she was pretty; she was beautiful and gorgeous in her own little angelic way. Amy looked so alluring in her pretty white dress that Ricky wanted to take her right then and there, but that would've scared her and would shatter the illusion of the broken hearted boy he had created.

"Hey Amy. You look…really nice." He shook his head in wonder. All right, so he was milking it a little but he really wanted Amy and turning on the charm would only work to his advantage.

"Thanks…" she smiled, blushing again. "You look really good too."

Ricky grinned. "Shall we?" he held out his hooked arm. Amy blushed even harder and took his arm, accidentally dropping her clutch as she did so. "Oh…sorry." She bent down to pick it up, but not before Ricky had reached down with his long arms and grabbed it for her. She paused, mid-bend and took it from him smiling shyly, straightening once again. He smirked in a friendly way and she looked away, her face bright red. During this display of maidenly-shame Ricky's eyes drifted downwards and got a healthy look of her exposed chest. His tongue subconsciously ran across the bottom of his upper lip as he eyed her soft skin. When Amy looked back shyly at him, he was once again the composed, charming predator.

As they stepped into the hall, the smell of sickly sweet punch hit them and the sharp, blaring lights danced around them in a frenzy. Amy blinked and scrunched up her nose, the sights and sounds so foreign and uncomfortable to her pure mind, that she was quite disoriented for a moment.

Ricky on the other hand, was perfectly at home in the club, not because he went clubbing very often, but because he attended this dance every year. It was almost like a routine to him now, the annual gathering of hot cheerleaders and pretty band geeks, from which he could just pick and choose at a whim.

The voice of the DJ rang out across the room, with the fuzzy sound of leaning too far into a microphone.

"All right, everybody havin' fun?" he paused to let the whole room erupt into cheers and whoops. "That's great, now let's slow things down a little so y'all can catch up with your little lovers." At this, there was more cheering. Then it turned quiet as "Collide" by Howie Day came on. Amy looked nervously up at Ricky and he smiled easily at her. He gently wound his arms around her slim waist and she, taking the hint, wrapped her arms around his neck. Ricky leaned in so that their bodies were pressed against one another. Amy, with her heart pounding, rested her head on his shoulder and let the sweet ballad-like song wash over her as she imagined going back to school holding Ricky's hands, her watching him graduate and him coming back from university to watch her. She imagined them getting a flat together, getting married, having children and sitting on the front porch together when they were old and frail, but still very much in love. She sighed. Oh the future looked so blissful when she was in Ricky's arms.

Ricky heard her sigh and leaned back a little to look her in the eyes. He frowned in concern. "Are you all right Amy?" She laughed lightly.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just imagining the future…Y'know…maybe with you?" she phrased the last question nervously, blushing gently as she watched him. Ricky blanched inwardly but kept his warm demeanour and smiled gently at her.

"Maybe…" he leaned in again, closing the space he had created between them. He heard her sigh in contentment again and lean her head against the crook of his neck. Feeling her warm breath against his neck was…beyond blissful.

When the song ended, both drew back smiling.

"Well…that was…interesting," Amy smiled at him.

"Interesting how?" he smirked, which caused Amy to blush again. Before giving her time to answer, he drew in and whispered in her ear, "You wanna go some place quieter so you can tell me?"

Judging from her suddenly red-hot cheeks and shining eyes, it was a yes. Ricky took her hand and led her through a small shortcut door, revealing one of the more comfortable looking practice rooms. There was a plump sofa against the wall and all the orchestra practice instruments were there, either in cupboards or just leaning against the wall.

He let go of her hand and walked towards a storage cupboard. Amy recognized it as the cupboard where they kept their instruments. As Ricky disappeared behind one of the shelves, Amy was in a flurry. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could feel it reverberating throughout her whole body and her palms had become clammy and wet. She wiped them nervously against the seat of her pants as she waited for Ricky to emerge. He came out, holding a familiar wooden case. Her French horn.

Ricky walked up to her and pushed her gently down to sit on the sofa. He set the French horn down beside her and grabbed a plastic chair and sat down facing her. Gesturing towards the horn he said, smiling, "Play for me." Amy wanted to say shake her head with embarrassment, but how could she, when those mesmerizing brown eyes were pinning her down?

Slowly, with trembling hands, she took out the French horn, and after the routinely tuning she did, she took a deep breath and started to play. In Amy's mind, she had no idea what she was going to play but as soon as she hit the first key, she realized she was playing a piece from Peter and the Wolf. Memories flooded back to her from her childhood, when her mother had taken her and Ashley to see the orchestra play. She remembered how much her mother had loved the part of the wolf that had been played by the French horn. She also remembered that childish flood of determination that she had, to learn the French horn and to make her mother proud of her. So lost in her memories and past was Amy that she didn't realize that Ricky, who was watching her with admiration, was slowly leaning in and placing his hand on her cheek. Only when she felt his soft but callused palm on her skin did she jump and mess up. The sound that came out of the French horn was beyond embarrassing and she felt her cheeks rapidly becoming a florescent cherry red.

"S-sorry, I'm not very good," Amy started, apologetically, but Ricky cut her off.

"No, no that's not true Amy. I should be the one saying sorry. I didn't mean to touch you like that it's just…you're so beautiful," at this he smiled, his mind feeding his mouth cheesy lines to spout, the key to winning Amy's…let's face it, virtue. Amy smiled and looked down at her hands. Ricky reached out again, gently pushing her chin up to look at him. He set aside her French horn on the floor and sat down beside her.

Gently, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She returned it, nervously but willing. Ricky slid his hands to her hair and his fingers got knotted into the smooth copper waves. Amy's hand went from her lap to his waist, and she revelled in the feeling of his hard-muscled body under her hands. He kissed her more passionately and gently pushed her back onto the couch. His hands slid under her clothes preparing to take it off when she pulled back.

"R-Ricky, what are you doing?" she exclaimed, taking her hands off him.

"I…I just thought we were both enjoying this." He frowned, looking uncertain. His mind, however, was whirring, quickly spinning a fairytale-prince speech that would convince Amy to sleep with him. "Amy…I love you. I love you so much and I…I want to be with you forever."

Amy's eyes were flooded with confusion and uncertainty, and she said gently, remembering all the things her dad had warned her about when they had 'The Talk', "I really like you too Ricky but…I'm too young. I just…don't think we should be doing this."

Ricky hearing her good girl speech, changed tactics. "Well…I guess…I mean, if you don't love me enough that's fine." His voice was tinged with an icy edge, enough to make Amy worried and hurt.

"No, no, Ricky, I didn't mean that! I just…" she paused, giving Ricky the chance he needed, to say, "Amy…I love you more than anything in this world and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Please, I just want to be your first and share what I have with you. I want to love you…Please, just let me love you." And with his pleading brown eyes, he knowingly sealed the deal with the innocent, copper-headed girl.

Amy, pushing away her fear and uncertainty said, "I love you too Ricky. And…I guess I want you to be my first too." With that, she pressed her lips to his, and after a moment's 'hesitation' from Ricky, he deepened it. Ricky was getting what he wanted, and of course, why wouldn't he?

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to what, I hope, is a 'never ending' story. I do want this story to go on for some time because I think it's important not to jump straight into "Oh Ricky's in love with Amy" or "Amy's in love with Ricky" because they weren't. Not at the start anyway and I imagine their relationship to be a slow kind of process. I don't want this to start out with them being in love, because then, what do I have to write about? I do want to explore the fact that "Ben and Amy did really love each other (for a while)" and "Ricky and Adrian really did love each other too (if only for a while as well!)". So...I hope you stick with me throughout this whole thing, and enjoy:)

P.S I did rate this story as T because it's obviously exploring some topics that aren't suitable for young children. So...just wanted to get that out there:)

P.P.S This chapter has been rewritten and is a combination of the first 3 chapters from the original.

xx Sophie.