Prologue

Summer 2005

There was a loud B-A-N-G as the pretty little front door of the gorgeous little blue house on the corner of the quiet little street slammed shut. A young boy with sandy brown hair flew down the steps, his cheeks glittering in the sunlight due to what could only be tears. With one hand he pulled a large red rolling book bag behind him, it clattered behind him as he made his way down, and he held tight to an old leather jacket with the other.

He charged on toward his front gate, only wanting to get away from it all. From that house and the image and all the noise and the secrets.

He just wanted to get away.

Was that even possible?

The thought of not being able to escape this hell sent a jolt of anger through him. He ran his arm across his eyes roughly, wiping away the wetness that was now starting to affect his vision. "Stupid tears." He thought to himself, but it was no use. Fresh beads formed once more in the corner of his eyes and sped down his cheeks, betraying him.

He pushed the gate open wide and without another look back at his house, made a sharp turn towards the corner, not even thinking to watch where he was going.

And he crashed right into it.

No. It wasn't an it. It was a person.

And it wasn't just a person.

It was a girl.

The boy, now sitting flat on the floor, blinked up at the girl through watery eyes, and he felt his face grow hot. He wasn't crying because he fell down. He hoped the girl knew that. He was crying because of…other things.

The girl however, looked over at him with very dry eyes. She sat flat on the floor as well and the bicycle she was riding lay just a little ways away from them. She folded her arms and glared at him.

"Well?" she asked, and the boy started.

"Um. Well, what?" He pushed himself up from where he was sitting. Dust his pants off. Shook out his jacket.

"You're supposed to say you're sorry." She said matter-of-factly. She stood up this time as well and immediately put her hands on her hips. "You knocked me over!" she stomped her foot.

The boy didn't respond. The girl frowned.

Then, he watched as her eyes traveled from his tearstained face to his rolling backpack, to his jacket, and right back to his probably already bloodshot eyes.

Her eyes narrowed. "Where are you going?" she asked.

The boy suddenly grew very defensive. He turned on his heel and tugged on the book bag, walking in the direction he was originally heading.

He didn't have to answer to her. Who did she think she was? His mother? "Ha." He thought. "Joke's on her. There was probably no one in the world that wished for that."

He walked in silence for a minute or so, before he heard the girl's voice from behind him, shouting.

"Hey!" she yelled, and after he didn't stop or turn around, "Hey, I'm talking to you!" That didn't make a difference. He actually walked a bit faster. Who the hell was this girl? He was pretty positive he'd never seen her before. He racked his brain for an image of where he might have spotted her. Around town? The movies? At school? Breadstix? None of them wrung a bell.

Eventually, to his annoyance, she caught up with him when he had to stop at another corner. She was standing next to her bicycle now and she was breathing heavy, but somehow that didn't seem to stop her from asking her questions.

"Are you running away?" Damn, she's straight to the point.

"So what if I am?" he asked without looking at her. He was already annoyed that she caught up to him, and here he was actually responding to her.

The girl seemed to think for a moment, and when the light in front of them indicated that it was safe to cross the street, she walked with him to the other side. But as soon as they step foot on the sidewalk, the girl sped up and rounded on him. She blocked his path with her body and her bike and stared at him with a big smile.

The boy stopped short, not expecting such a quick movement, and frowned slightly.

"Listen, can you-"

"I'm Mercedes!" she said, brightly, and she stuck out her hand. The boy glanced down at it suspiciously, which only made her temper flare. "Excuse you. I don't bite. And if I remember right you're the one that almost sent me to the hospital, so I should be looking at you like you have a million teeth. Not the other way around." She paused and then repeated herself. "I'm Mercedes. What's your name?"

"Uh. Sam? I'm Sam."

"Nice to meet you Sam." She said. Mercedes still had her hand out, and Sam figured the best thing to do was to just take it. She clearly was not about to leave him alone until he did so.

"Yeah. Uh, you too…"

"Wanna come to my house and play video games? My brother has a Playstation, but he lets me play sometimes."

"Um…"

Before he could give a straight answer or even think about speaking, Mercedes snaked her arm through Sam's and tugged him back in the opposite direction. Back towards that building. Back towards home.

"Or we could play board games. I'm a beast at Monopoly, I promise you. Or Uno? Maybe?"

She chattered on with Sam pulled tight next to her until they were almost back to where they started, where they first crashed into each other. Sam could feel his heart in his throat, and the closer they got to that little blue house the more sick he felt. He didn't understand why he didn't just pull away from her, just slip out from her arm and run back to where he was going. But something kept his feet walking.

Something in her voice, her tone felt…sunny. Positive. Like she didn't have a single cloud in her own personal sky. She clearly talked too much for her own good, but he found that her talking distracted him. Gave him something to focus on.

And then. And then she laughed at some joke she made about her brother and the sound of it felt like music and suddenly his whole world seemed too big, too full, too bright for his own eyes.

They walked right past his house. His heart eased back down in his chest. The sick feeling slowly melted away.

Sam shifted his eyes to look at her as they walked on, arms still linked, her other arm holding on to her bike. She didn't seem to notice that his gaze was on her, or maybe she did and just didn't care. He also realized that he had forgotten his rolling backpack all those blocks back, before she had turned them around. In his own free hand he gripped his jacket tightly; unsure of what was currently happening.

Who was this Mercedes? Where did she come from?

And what did she manage to do to his heart in just a few quick and easy minutes?

I hope this peaked your interest, even if it's a little bit :) Just a taste of the past before we begin. First chapter will be soon.

Let me know what you think, it's very much appreciated!