A/N

Okay.

I have some explaining to do. I have left FFN for quite a while to just take my mind off of it and focus on more important things in my life.

But I'm back! Unfortunately, I will no longer be continuing any of my current unfinished stories. I just needed something new and fresh. I hope you guys enjoy! Review, fave and follow :)

Prologue

"Come on, Cam-bam!" Zach cried as he ran out of the school. "My Moma's here to pick us up!" Cammie ran after him, a pout on her face.

"Don't call me that, my name is CAMMIE, C-A-M-M-I-E," she whined, but her eyes glimmered with excitement. Zach just grinned at her. She couldn't help grinning back.

"I'm so sorry, Cammie," Zach replied with a little smile. "Here," he said and handed her a pack of peanut M&Ms. Cammie quickly forgot about the nickname and poured the whole pack into her mouth which was pretty impressive for a six-year-old.

"You're the bestest friend in the world. I forgive you," Cammie smiled at him, mouth full of chocolate. Zach just smiled back and gave her a hug.

"Don't ever leave me, okay?" Cammie told him, gray eyes wide and blond curls bouncing. He nodded his head solemnly.

"I promise," he whispered.

Chapter 1

Cammie

Are high school parties really even that much fun?

Just take everything into account. The random couples you bump into making out (more like devouring each other's tongues in my opinion), the stench of sweat and some older sibling's alcohol, the loud booming bass, and... I could go on forever.

These were the thoughts running through my mind as I carefully navigated my way through some big bash-before-school-starts that Bex had dragged me too with her at some jock's house.

"You need to socialize. You literally don't talk to anyone other than your brother and sometimes his friends, me, Lizzie and Macey!" She said, shaking me by the shoulders with each name. And Zach. Used to talk to him, I mean. I added to myself as I replayed the events in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head frantically, as if that will make the thoughts of him go away.

I leaned against the wall and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. There were a bunch of whoops and hollers that came from another room, probably as the result of some dumb drinking game.

"Hey there," a male voice interrupted my internal swirl of thoughts and complaints about parties. I looked down from the ceiling and saw an unfamiliar face. I squinted, scrutinizing his features. Brown hair, blue eyes, tall, but not giant. Lean, not scrawny. He looked like a cross between a young George Clooney and Orlando Bloom.

"Do you go to my school?" I questioned slowly, trying to figure out who he was. He smiled, all sunshine and rainbows.

"No. I just moved to Virginia from New Jersey. I'm Josh," he said, while holding out a had to shake. That explained his mild accent.

"Cammie. Not short for Camille or Camilla, short for Cameron. Yes, my parents thought that I was going to be a boy." I dead-panned, while shaking his hand. His smile grew.

"Straight to the point, are you?" He said. I raised an eyebrow. He just laughed.

"Well, I was just heading out and I wanted to know your name because...You look really beautiful," Josh said and scratched the back of his neck nervously. A light blush spread from his neck to his cheeks. Pink tinted my cheeks as well and I glanced down at my ratty old chuck Taylors in an attempt to hide my blush.

"Wow, and you call me straight to the point? Thanks, um, you too. I mean, no, um, you look really handsome, uh, yeah," I replied and my blush grew. He just laughed. Good job, Cammie. Talk to the first guy you see and make a fool out of yourself. At least that is off the bucket list. "Bye then, I guess I'll see you at school?" I said. He gave a small wave and walked away from me and out the door. I left the empty room I was hiding in and decided to check out all the noise and commotion in the living room.

"Cammie!" A drunk Grant wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I entered the room. I cringed internally, wincing at the loud shrill of his voice. "Guys, this is my sister Cammie! She's really nice but really annoying sometimes," Grant slurred. A couple sober people chuckled. I gave an awkward little wave.

If I was the shy one, Grant was the opposite. He was loud, played on the football team, and loved to go to parties and get wasted. Sometimes, I didn't even feel like we were the tiniest bit related.

"Come on Cammie, let's go shake hands with people! Bex always says that you need a boyfriend, or at least friends!" He laughed and dragged me to a group of people.

"Aren't you spending quite a lot of time with Bex," I muttered. I closed my eyes and prepared my 'I'm not socially inept and not a complete psychopath, pleased to meet you!' speech.

"Hey," a low, quiet voice said. I popped my eyes open and came face to face with Zach. I blinked a couple times, my mouth forming a 'o'.

Grant laughs and pulls my hand toward his. "Shake hands, now, Cammie-bear," Grant said. I snatched my hand back like he just burned me.

"I, um, don't think so, Grant, haha!" I stammer nervously. I flashed a fake smile at Zach for a brief second and look him in the eyes. The memories all came rushing back. His long, shaggy dark brown hair. His stupid smirk. And his eyes. His beautiful, raw green eyes that looked curiously down at me.

I hated it.

At that moment, I decided to leave the party. Screw it. Bex and Grant could find their own ride home. I could not deal with him, or Grant, or anyone. After making up some lame excuse about a curfew, I drove home in my sedan, mind lost in memories of childhood.

"Really? You actually talked to someone? A guy for that matter?" Bex questioned me when I told her about the Josh encounter. I threw a pillow at her face. "Gosh, I wish I was there. I was probably too busy chugging shots to offer any moral support though, sorry," Bex said matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes.

"Nothing much happened, actually. But he is really cute. " I said. She laughed.

"In love already, Cameron? Don't scare your little play-thing away," Bex teased. I blushed.

"He's not my anything." I protested, but she wiggled her eyebrows. "Stop that," I said and threw another pillow at her.

It was the next morning, and Bex had just woken up. Mascara and eyeliner smudged her eyelids and she hadn't even bothered to change before passing out on my bed last night. Her brown hair was knotted and wild, her eyes kind of dazed, probably from the alcohol. Bex had slept over at my place after the party and in the process, wrecked my bed and pillows with makeup.

I wrinkled my nose as I caught a whiff of alcohol reeking from her dress. "Go take a shower and an Advil, they're downstairs in the medicine drawer, " I said, shoving her along with some unpleasant thoughts out of my room and head. She chuckled and stumbled downstairs. I shook my head to myself and sighed.