A/N: Since I'm about to wrap up The Truths About Lies (the next chapter should be up tomorrow, and the story should have at least 2 more chapters to go if not 3.) Here are some of my new story choices. All of them are more humorous and light than intense. A lot of these stories are old stories that I wrote but never got to continue or put up. Some of these stories range for years. Some of them also were originally written, not with Nick and Miley as the characters. But I think I can switch it around to make it revolve around them. So review or reply me on twitter (MileyNick123) on which story you like. If you absolutely can't choose you can tell me you're top 2. I hope you like at least some of these ideas. :)

21 Days With Miley Stewart

I, Nick Grey, have officially concluded one thing from my whole 22 years of living.

My life sucks.

Yeah. All 22 years and that's it… It didn't used to be like this. I mean, I used to rule the world, and by world, I mean my small hometown that I've been stuck in since, I don't know, birth… Samson, New Jersey. Believe it or not, I had the whole world in my hands in high school; the glory days; the 4 greatest tears of my now sorry life. I had the whole quarter back, Prom King, party guy thing going on. Guys wanted to be part of my crowd, girls wanted to date me… and more… there was always more.

And then, somehow in some way, those four incredible golden years disappeared from under my feet and next thing I know, I'm standing on stage in an itchy, hot, and sweaty graduation gown in front of parents and teachers flashing me that, you're going to do great things smile…

If they only knew how wrong they were.

And it pretty much went downhill from there. People, classmates, friends… They all moved away to do bigger and better things this tiny hickory hobo town couldn't give them. Unlike me, they actually followed those smiles their parents and mentors flashed that day that marked the fall of my pathetic excuse of a life. Maybe I could have done things too, actually have made a difference… but I was probably too busy trying to distract the nerdy, already shakily nervous, valedictorian sitting next to me to even take a notice. From what I heard, that valedictorian made it all the way to Washington D.C. and is already working with the big boys up in Congress. Yup. That kid was sure as hell paying attention to those damn smiles.

Even Taylor Mayson, the high school blonde and airhead managed to escape this death trap of a town to go to fashion school somewhere in LA. My high school buddy Joe Locke moved on and moved into some big fancy studio up in the Big Apple. Demi Monroe, his girlfriend from pretty much 1st grade, moved up there with him and just got an internship for a law firm in the upper east side of New York. (They call once in awhile to brag about their big- shot lives that I obviously don't have.) So Demi, who I've been friends with since pretty much… forever, defends the one type of people I can't stand the most; filthy rich business men who waste their time drowning themselves in heavy cologne, reminding everyone how rich they are, and of course, cheating on their cocktail- party planning, pearl necklace wearing, wives for cheap on- the- street prostitutes.

But, of course, no one thinks about those facts when it comes to people as wealthy as that. All they know is that if you have money, you've got to be freakin happy.

Wrong. Stupid little pricks.

Me, for example, I have absolutely no money except for my small wages (if you can even call it that) from helping fix cars down at old John's garage, I'm living in a beaten- down old apartment that I can barely pay rent for, and I'm perfectly…

Actually, I might not be the best example.

But complaining about my sorry godforsaken life isn't the reason I'm telling this story. I'm telling this story because it actually means something compared to all the other bullcrap that they now somehow call literature. It might bore you, it might make you wish you hadn't picked up this story from the very beginning…

But honestly, I don't give a damn. Because this is MY story to tell. This is the 21 day story on how the great, or not so great, Nick Grey changed forever.

And it all starts on Day 1, with me walking straight into the life of a mysterious, precious, deathly frustrating little creature with auburn hair the color of rusting leaves and storm gray eyes that would clear out everything in your mind except her.

This creature's name, you may ask?

Let's just call her Miley.

Miley Ray Stewart

(A/N: Not much insight into Miley's character, but I can tell you that when Nick meets her, she has completely lost her memory. So as you can obviously guess, she stays with Nick for 21 days as her memory slowly comes back to her. This story will be fun to write. Just came up with it today. Ha. And what'll happen AFTER the 22 days are done, you'll have to figure out for yourselves. )

Blackstone Academy

I impatiently tapped my cherry red stiletto onto the smoothed sidewalk as I examined my new surroundings. So this was where I was shipped off to. My parents kicked me out of my perfect and luxurious life in California for this? I was Selena Russo. I didn't belong in a place like this. I deserved to be back in LA surrounded by the familiar sounds of music and noise; my home.

I watched as a group of giggling girls, not far from my age, dressed in completely untailored uniforms passed me. I instantly noticed their glances and stares at my neatly pressed designer clothes; a hint of jealousy; maybe even a little intimidation. I smirked at their innocence. I almost forgot the days when I wasn't constantly surrounded by girls who were basically lived and breathed for high fashion.

I slid my designer sunglasses off and placed them on the top of my head. I guess I was going to have to make the best of this. It was only 2 years left anyway. Then I would graduate, and my parents couldn't control what I did or who I see. I had the rest of my life perfect laid out in front of me.

I turned around sharply as I heard a slight thump coming from behind me. "God. Can you PLEASE attempt to be able to do your job, James?" I huffed as I watched my father's assistant carry out the last bag out of the trunk. He had been working for my father for years now, yet all he's done for him was carry out the tasks my father didn't have time for; one including dropping me off to boarding school. I could tell James hated his job; no one wanted to be the mule as a living, but it was the closest thing he had with the big shots and these opportunities came rare. I almost felt sorry for the poor guy.

Almost.

"Sorry, Ms. Russo," James mumbled a little annoyed. I would have snapped at him for being so damn rude, but I was still too jet lagged to even find the strength to yell at him once again. I wouldn't have to see his face for another 2 years anyway, nor my father or my mother. Not that they probably wanted to. The last time I had seen them was at dinner a few weeks ago, but I hardly think that counts since we all just sat at the table silently as my father was too busy with a business call and my mom was rambling on about an elite event she was planning; I didn't even have enough care in me to listen. At least now, I wouldn't have to hear their screams about my credit card bills or the fact that I didn't come home the night before.

Maybe there was an up- side to this place after all. Of course, my wallets were empty and my state was sober, but it didn't mean that I could mix it up here. From the judge of its bland brick walls to its dry greenery, this place could use a little excitement. And they had definitely accepted the right girl to do it.

Suddenly, the sound of an engine broke my thoughts. Surprised, I turned around to see James already in the car preparing to leave. "James!" I screeched confused. "What are you doing? My bags?" I asked referring to him carrying them up to my dorm. If there was one thing that I lacked, it was upper body strength.

"Sorry, Ms. Russo. Your father told me not to spoil you."

"You aren't serious, James" I gaped my mouth open. I was so tempted to throw my stiletto right into his smirking face. He was enjoying tormenting me way too much. "How the hell do you expect me to get all these bags to my room? It's like 100 freaking miles away."

James shook his head. "Actually, it's just straight head. And it's not my fault you brought absolutely everything you owned."

"My father won't like this," I argued back. My face was getting red as I saw our little 'fight' catching people's attention. I mean, I was always one for attention, but not when I was the one being attacked.

"Honestly, Ms. Ryan. I don't care what the hell your father thinks. And I don't think your father cares about what you think either," James explained calmly as I felt my face burn up. He did not just say that.

"JAMES!" I screeched, but he had already pulled the sleek black BMW into the driveway, and soon enough it became nothing but a tiny black dot disappearing into the horizon. I turned around stomping. I cannot believe he had just done that. My first day at school wasn't turning out as well as I planned. I looked at the pile of luggage and bags thrown carelessly on the edge of the sidewalk. "I am going to kill him," I mumbled to myself as I tried to haul one of my bags down the street. My Ralph Lauren mini- skirt and my 4 inch heels weren't a very big help either.

"Hi," a friendly voice sounded behind me. Too much in a bad mood, I turned around ready to snap at whoever was actually brave enough to worsen my day, but a set of chocolate brown eyes met mine.

"Hi," I answered back grinning. As if instinctively, I pouted my lips making sure they were still glossed. I straightened out my skirt making sure I didn't look like a slut, yet didn't come out looking like a nun either, and I brought my hand to my hair, making sure it was all still in its usual smooth waves. I had just recently gotten extensions due to my mother's poor choice in haircutter's. Tip: Never go to Beverly Hills for a bob. NEVER.

I eyed the boy who seemed to be my age if not older standing in front of me. He had on a crisp white polo shirt that he rolled up to his elbows casually, and a navy blue sweater vest that was placed over it. He had smooth jet black locks that were even darker than mine, and those boyish brown eyes that probably made girls melt. He was perfect.

"Um," he eyed my luggage in the most adorable way. "Do you need help with that?"

I couldn't help, but flash him a winning grin. "Actually, yes."

A model body AND a gentleman? They didn't have much of those back in LA. I held out a perfectly manicured hand out to shake his. He flashed back a perfect white smile that I instantly approved off.

"So, where are you living?" Mr. Perfect asked as he picked up over half my bags without showing any effort.

"Carnagy Hall," I explained as I picked up my own Louis Vuitton purse.

A few guys who were dressed in similar sweater vests and ties passed by talking about football or god knows what. They were good looking though. They all had that preppy rich boy look that girls all just fell for; the kind that would also end up in 10 years being either A. bald. B. fat. C. An alcoholic. Or. D. All of the above. Honestly, I was bored of them.

"Dude, are you coming to the party tonight," a guy with short cropped blonde hair hooted as he pulled him in for one of those guy handshakes that always annoyed me. I looked around the group of guys that surrounded us and noticed how they all seemed to be looking at Mr. Perfect in an almost dependent way. He had to be the head of this little 'group'.

He shifted a little to the right as he fixed his hold on my bags causing the group of guys to finally see me. I could see their eyes glaze over me for a second, and I couldn't help but smirk as they eyed me from head to toe. I pretended to be too busy playing with the Tiffany charm bracelet around my wrist to take notice to their awe- filled stares.

"Yeah. Sure," he answered. "I'm kinda busy right now so I'll catch up with you guys later," he continued as he motioned towards my bags. The one with the short cropped blonde hair slapped him on the back as he looked towards my direction one last time.

"Good job, man. That's all I'm saying. Good. Job."

The group of guys broke into laughter, and I couldn't help but smirk. Yup. Typical males. Just like I expected. I was kind of disappointed though. I was hoping there would be something different here. I mean, c'mon. We were in the middle of North Carolina isolated from the rest of society. I expected SOME change.

"My dorm is right across from yours then. Peterson Hall," he continued, ignoring his friends' intrusions as he focused all his attention back on me. I grinned back feeling accomplished. First 10 minutes on campus and I had already snagged myself the hottest guy in school.

Maybe Blackstone Academy wasn't going to be that bad after all.

(A/n: This was originally supposed to be a joint story, but it didn't carry out as I planned. This is just one point of view. The whole story will be switching between four point of views every chapter. One point of view per chapter between Selena, Miley, Demi, and Taylor. Selena being the rich Queen Bee, Miley being the small town girl trying her best to keep everyone else oblivious to her scholarship. Demi the Selena suck- up since she's her only ticket to the big leagues with all the other artists and singers, and finally Taylor the quiet, timid girl who always seems to be holding something back... a dark secret from her past... the reason why she was sent off the boarding school in the first place. I have no idea where this story is going to go, but I'll figure it out. HA. xD

And of course, they'll be struggles between the guys (Nick, Joe, Kevin, Lucas, David, and more), their school work, their social lives, their home and roots, and with each other.

You Know Where to Find Me

There he was. Walking with his usual slow and casual strut, hands comfortably to his side, sweeping his hair to the side every few seconds. I watched him, holding my breath. If there was any other word that beat beautiful, he'd fill the spot. Those dark curls of hair that contrasted perfectly with his lightly tanned skin, his dark brown eyes that I'd seem to lose myself in, those soft lips that I must've dreamed about 23 ½ hours of the day, and that smile. The smile that kept me staring until my eyes hurt; the smile that sparked my own smile without realizing it; the smile that stole my breath; the smile that I wanted to be the reason of. He walked casually towards me, like we were distant friends, just like it's been for the last 10 years of going to school together.

"Hey," he said. "Did you understand the history test?"

I stood there trying to contain my irregular breathing. He was standing a good arms length away, but I felt my face flushing as if he was inches away from me. "Um. Yeah, It was pretty easy," I replied voice shaking. He gave a puzzled and disagreeing face, and I had a sudden urge to take back whatever I had just said and change it to match his perfectly.

"Really? I had no idea what I was writing about," he laughed softly. God, that laugh sounded like heaven. I smiled back shyly, too nervous to make straight eye contact. Instead I focused on his worn our converse sneakers; the same exact ones I was wearing. I blushed at the comparison. "So…" he said as he rocked back on his heels. Silence took over the conversation, and I had nothing else to say. I didn't want him to leave. God, no. I would ramble on about pancakes and elephants if that would keep him with me for a few more minutes.

"Oh. Isn't it your birthday tomorrow?" I asked questioningly even though I knew for sure it was. He doesn't notice, but I know almost everything about him. His favorite color: blue. Favorite shoes: Converse. Favorite artist: John Mayer. Favorite jokes: Witty ones. Favorite hobby: sarcasm.

He smiled as he nodded. I smiled back, not because he did something funny, but because he had that affect on me. That smile could have forced my smile for decades. It was contagious, and I had absolutely no power over it. "So, what are you doing?"

He shrugged it off and took the seat next to me. "Family dinner, I guess." I nodded, rummaging through my mind for another topic of conversation. Why was it always so hard with him?

"Oh. Well, have you listened to John Mayer's new album yet?" I smiled, finally remembering something we both had in common; music. He flipped a lock of hair back and rambled on about what he thought about each song. There I sat nodding like an idiot and adding a 'yes' or 'I know right' every few seconds. After his short rant, he leaned back on his palms and just stared at the sky. I took the moment to observe him; the way his hands seemed to strong yet delicate; he was an artist, that I knew. The way he seemed to see the world in a curious manner, the way his feet constantly tapped a rhythm without even noticing it. Although no one was talking, silence had left the conversation. Now, all that was left was peace.

A soft sweet voice interrupted, "Hey." I look up to see her; the most popular, the nicest, and definitely the prettiest girl in school standing over us. She was one of those types that had the shiny golden brown hair that had the perfect tinge of waves, the skinny yet curvy waists, the tall yet not lanky postures; all in all, she was perfect. "I've been looking for you," she smiled at him.

He looked back at her and smiled that smile I always wished to make. For me, it seemed like an impossible task. For her, she just had to smile back and he'd willingly do it for her. I was a nobody. She was everything. How could I compare to that? "Sorry. I didn't know you were looking for me," he grinned. He stood up, away from me, and stepped closer to her. "So, what's up?"

For the next few minutes, they rambled on about topics that only they seemed to know about. I sat there awkwardly not knowing if I should go or not. My face flushed again, but this time not due to his presence, but due to my embarrassment. What was I thinking? I couldn't compete with that. As I looked up, I saw her reach out and ruffle his locks of hair. Something inside me cracked. I can't explain it except that it was painful. Not like; scrape on your knee painful, but it was an inner- pain. And trust me; it was much worse. I swallowed a massive in- take of air and grabbed my backpack from the ground. I couldn't handle seeing him with her anymore. If he wouldn't love me, I wouldn't love him back. What would be the point? So at that moment, I told myself I didn't love him. That I never loved him; that it was just a phase of my adolescent years…

But the truth is I'm not over him. I'm on my final year of high school and he still makes my stomach turn, makes my heart quiver. He still makes me melt with one look, and makes me stutter when he asks me for a simple question. The truth is I still hope I can be the one to make him smile that beautiful smile, and that he'd say he felt the same way. It may not happen today or tomorrow. It may never even happen, but who knows. Love is a powerful and life- changing force. It can make miracles.

And oh man, a miracle was the one thing I needed now.

(A/N: The funny thing with this story is that I basically originally started it as a personal diary. Ha. This is a real- life experience that happened to me and I just wrote it out in a literature- like form. I made this about a year or two ago, and I thought why not make a story out of this? Basically, my journal open for your eyes. But it will base around Nick, Miley, and a lot more characters. This will definitely be fun to write since I'll base it on real life stuff... The next story is vaguely similar so I might end up just mixing the two.)

The Unwritten Rule

Hi. I'm Miley Stewart. AKA just a girl. AKA a 17 year old girl. AKA a 17 year old girl who's completely and utterly in love.

See. You would expect this to be absolutely amazing and life- changing and just a perfect thing.

Well, it is like that. There's just one little problem.

You see, the guy I've fallen for is absolutely perfect. He's sweet, kind, creative, artistic, strong, polite, handsome, and he has the two softest chocolate brown eyes that would make any girl fall for him…

Which is why they did.

One of them including the great and amazing Selena Russo.

Well, you might say that I should get the guy since I liked him first. SHE should be respecting ME. I mean, technically, I've kinda been in love with this guy since 5th grade, and now that we're in our senior year in high school, you'd think it would be my time to make a move. SOMETHING.

Well, you guessed wrong. I'm not like that.

But Selena is.

Unlike me, who didn't have the guts to talk to the guy for almost 7 years, Selena did. Actually, she did more than just talk, if you know what I mean.

But that's because that's who SHE is. She's the out- going, fun, loud, live- life- at- the- moment kind of person. And I'm… not. So obviously she got the guy. And I… didn't. And I had to pull it together and face the fact that I didn't get him. Selena did.

So now I'm here sitting and complaining about how completely messed up I am. What a horrible, disgusting, sick human being I've become. Wanna know why?

Because I think I'm falling for him again.

Or maybe I never stopped.

All I know is that I'm still head over heels for a certain perfect 5'9 foot, baseball playing, song- writing kinda guy named Nick Grey.

Yes. You heard me right.

I Am. In. Love.

There are just two tiny microscopic problems:

He's still Selena's is my best friend.

And now I have to live with the guilt of wanting my best friend's boyfriend. Do you have any idea how hard that is? Cause I sure do. It makes me feel like jumping off a cliff or throwing myself in jail or even eating cat- food for the rest of my life. The LAST thing I want to do is hurt my best friend.

I've been trying to convince myself that I DON'T like him. I DON'T want him. I DON'T love him.

But I do.

And I know no matter how much I fight it, it's always going to be right there smack in my face.

So if I could have one wish in the whole entire world, it would have been to have given me another chance to have made him mine first. Not Selena's. But mine.

But for now, I'm stuck with just watching, wishing, wanting. And it's all because of one stupid little thing that probably some dumb teenagers made a billion trillion years ago called, the Unwritten Rule.

(A/N: Told ya it was like the last preview. This one is kinda different though. And I know it sounds like any other high school love story, but I'll try my best to mix it up a bit. Ha. Based on the book by Elizabeth Scott, and I wrote it randomly right after reading the book. This should be fun to write also. :))

(A/N: IMPORTANTTTT: I'm putting the author's note BEFORE this preview because it's very long and you're going to get confused. This is nothing like any of my other stories. I randomly started this story a few years ago and never continued it. The reason it's so different is because it's a fantasy story. It circles around the topic of fairies. And while writing this story, I never thought of Nick and Miley as the characters, but now that I think about it, it seems like a lot of fun to write a Niley fantasy story. Hahaa. So you can basically think of Nick as Lance (I tried to change the name, but I might have missed a few here and there), and Miley... well you'll find out later in the story. It's a pretty complex plot compared to my other stories, but that's what makes it more fun to write. It's not another boy meets girl story. It might actually end up having something dept. HA xD. So enjoy reading this preview (which would pretty much make up a chapter. )

{Undecided Title}

Nicholas held onto his mother's hand anxiously while walking through his neighborhood park. The smell of food, sweat, and nature swept together and covered every inch of the park. Nick was comfortable with the smell, more than comfortable, he was almost addicted to it. On his other hand he gripped a leather leash that was attached to his Maltese that he had recently gotten. He had taken excellent care of it and had named it himself: Clary. Naming Clary was so easy that he didn't even have second thoughts.

Nick was only 6 at this moment in history, but he was so much more mature than any other six year old. He had such poise and confidence that most people had to always ask for his age. Today his night- black curls were hidden under a baseball cap that was too big for his head. He had on a regular t- shirt and shorts that his mother had recently bought him. To everyone else he may have seemed like any other child trying to find their place in the world, but I knew better than that. He was one of those people you can always pick out of huge crowds. One of those faces you could pick out of thousands, but he didn't know who he was and how special he was. All he knew was that his name was Nick Marrning and he was hoping to get ice cream later that day.

After a few minutes of walking he stooped down to tie his shoe while trying to hold on to Clary's leash at the same time. In the middle of doing a double knot, Nick noticed a swift shadow pass through the thick mass of tree that made up the forest, which also made up half of the park. He had been so surprised he lost balance while squatting on one foot and fell on one side causing him to release Clary's leash. As soon as he had let go, Clary ran away barking down the path in the direction the shadow had run to. His mother frantically tried helping him up with an unsure face of chasing after Clary of making sure her son was all right. Nick seemed to make up her mind for her as he chased after his dog leaving his frantically screaming mother behind him.

"Clary!" He ran through crowds of people and families playing and picnicking around the park. He continued down the path until he reached an empty corner. He quickly turned the corner and saw Clary sitting on a wooden bench that was right in front of the tree massed forest. Her tail was wagging in a fast rhythm with her tongue slithering out of the sloppy grin slapped across her face. Clary wasn't alone.

A girl in her late teenage years was seated right next to her and was busy rubbing and patting his dog's head playfully. She had thick light red hair that had grown almost up her waist and had the greenest of eyes Nick had ever seen. He couldn't help but stare. The girl seemed to notice his presence as she slowly tilted her head up and made eye contact with him with those deep green eyes. Nick's own chocolate brown eyes stared back. An eerie silence surrounded them as if time itself stopped.

She noticed the tension and patted the seat next to her. A normal six year old boy would have called their mother. A normal kid would have just run away. A normal person would have completely ignored the gesture and walked away with dignity. Nick wasn't like any other person. He was different, but that was what made him special.

He walked towards the strange girl slowly not breaking the intense eye contact for a beat. He politely took the seat between her and Clary. He swung his feet back and forth not exactly knowing what to say or do.

"Is this your puppy?" Her voice was sweet and melodic. Almost as if she was actually singing.

"Yeah. Her name is Clary," he replied confidently. A small secret smile formed on her lips as if she was the only one who would probably be able to understand why she was smiling.

"Interesting," was all she said.

"What's your name?" he asked politely. She looked at him quizzically with a simple smile. A few second passed by when she answered.

"Faye," she confessed so smoothly as if the breeze dancing around them had been carrying it. "And what is yours?"

"My name is Nicholas or you can just call me Nick," he pronounced proudly. Her eyes widened and her mouth slightly opened in a surprised shape. This time it was minutes of uncomfortable silence. Nick stopped the swinging of his legs and stared at the ground wondering what he had said wrong. Eventually Faye's eyes softened , but once again all she said was 'interesting.'

"So Nicholas, What are you doing at the park all by yourself? I'm pretty sure you're no older that 7. Am I right?" She stared intently at him with widening eyes such as a child learning life more and more each day.

"I'm only six. I go here s lot with my mom. I like the park. A lot." he explained. He waited anxiously for her reply. Faye smiled once again.

"And what do you like about it?"

"Everything I guess. I like the smell and the people and the feeling."

"We are more alike than you think, kid." She let out a small laugh.

"What'ya mean?" he asked curiously. She ignored the question.

"Listen Nick. My mother once told me a story about this forest right behind us." She nudged towards the mass of trees. "She said this forest is different. She said it contained such unbelievable magic. Do you believe that?" She searched his face hungrily for an answer. Nick, unsure of his answer, shrugged and began swinging his feet once again.

"Ok. Rephrasing. Do you believe in magic, Nick?" Faye asked wondrously.

"I've heard about it in stories, but I don't think it's real. My mom says family and love is all the magic we need... but I don't think that's real magic. I've never witnessed magic so why should I believe it." He waited for her reply wondering if what he had said was wrong. Faye didn't look upset. She looked lost in thought.

She tapped her fingers on a small red velvet book that was placed on her lap. She put it next to her on the bench and shifted her body so she was fully facing Nick. For the next few minutes she just stared and he stared right back not sure what to do. The secretive smile was on her lips once again and Faye's eyes were dancing with it.

Only minutes had passed, but to Nick it felt like days that they had been sitting on that bench watching each other. A sudden movement in the trees behind them made both Faye and Nick jump startled. Clary started to bark, but stopped and began to stare wide eyed at Faye. Faye's eyes became round and frightened. Nick reached out to see if she was okay, but her eyes suddenly softened as a stretched smile played on her rose colored lips.

"It was nice to meet you, Nicholas." She began to bring herself up from the bench which made her waist long hair swing with her hips. Suddenly Nick felt desperate and grabbed Faye's tiny palm.

"Wait! Are you going here soon? I'll tell my mommy to bring me back and we can play again," he said breathlessly. A playful smile danced across her lips and Nick caught her eyes sparkle for just a second.

"I'll see you eventually. Nick." She started getting up once again, but he kept holding on to her hand. She let out a sweet laugh.

Suddenly Clary started barking at the direction of the corner he had turned moments ago. The surprise caused him to drop his hand as he chased after Clary who had begun to run to the corner. He suddenly fell into the arms of his mother who kneeled to the ground swiftly.

"Where were you?" She grabbed his tiny face between her hands and started screaming hysterically. "You have no idea how worried I was! You can't just run away like that." Suddenly the screaming turned into tears and pleading. The hard hold on his face became kisses and hugs and whispers of apology.

After a few more minutes of tears and questions all coming from his mother, he grabbed her hand and lead her back to the wooden bench. He was anxious for his mother to meet his new friend. The only problem was that she was gone.

He stopped to a halt checking every single spot around the bench making sure she wasn't hiding. He trudged back to the bench disappointedly and left his mother confused and tired. He stopped a few feet away. On the bench she had left her book. He walked over and picked it up. He traced the edges of the red velvet timidly with his fingers.

He held on to it cautiously as if thinking it would dissolve or disappear between his fingers. He turned around and saw his mother was busy apologizing to the officer she had called to help her look for him. He took this opportunity and swiftly hid it under his shirt. He knew his mother wouldn't let him keep it, but he had to have it. There was something special about her. Nick could feel it. She was different, just like him. This book was the only proof that he had to prove to himself that she did exist and he couldn't let her go. He just couldn't

So there you go. Pick one or two that you like the best. It's not finalized yet, but just rough drafts of what the story should look like. Can't wait to hear you feedback. :)