Ok now this story changes POV a lot so it might get a little confusing. Just be sure to pay attention who is stated in bold. And this is a Smitchie story but it will take a while for their relationship to take off so bare with me and try to hold out.

Kristen

~*~*~

Mitchie's POV:

I could hear the church bells ring from across town as they did everyday indicating that it was now noon. There were three things in this world that I feared the most. Death. Spiders. Love.

Death, because I was afraid that I would leave this earth before I was able to make my make on it. Spiders, because when I was seven I woke up with a spider crawling across my forehead. Love, because no matter how hard you try you always lose the person you love the most at some point in your life. I wasn't one for showing emotion but today was the exception. Today was one the worst days of my life. Today was my mother's funeral.

My name is Mitchie Torres; I am sixteen years old. I have no mother, a father who has been AWOL almost my entire life, and only one place to turn to in order to feel safe from the destruction and pain that the world has caused in my broken heart.

Pulling a strand of hair from my face behind my ears, I bent down and let my tears rain upon my mother's tombstone. "I love you." I managed to whisper through the tears that had conquered my cheeks. I promised myself I would never let anyone take her place. No one could ever love me as much or would ever help me through the tough times in life. From here on out I will live my life in loving memory of Connie Torres, that is what I though as I walked away from her unburied coffin refusing to look back afraid that I might do something reckless or stupid.

My best friend Alex Russo, a spunky seventeen year old Mexican girl with wavy black hair, waited for me by her car. I would be moving in with her and the rest of the Russo family due to the fact that my father didn't want anything to do with me, my mother, or Austin, Texas the city where I had grown up.

My dad had left when I was three after becoming an alcoholic and heroine addict. He only came around when he needed money hoping my mother would take him back until she was no use to him. She began to come to her senses and realized that he never loved her by the time I was ten but by that time both of us were so screwed up by his yearly visits that neither of us ever recovered from his unkindness and hatred.

I hated my father. Plain and simple. There was nothing he could do if he were to ever look for redemption in the future, although I highly doubt that he would ever become remorseful of his wrong doings.

"Are you ok?" Alex asked once we were in the car. She was driving her black Mercedes Benz.

I looked over to her and said, "I will be." She took one hand off of the steering wheel and place it on top of mine giving it a gentle squeeze. We drove to her house in silence.

That night while I was sitting on my bed in the bedroom that was now called mine, which was across the hall from Alex's, I pulled out my diary (I know, I know a sixteen year old that still writes in her diary, lame.) and began to pour out my shattered heart.

It was two-thirty the next day, a Monday, when I heard a knock at my bedroom door. I hadn't gotten out of bed and was still in the black pants and blouse that I had worn the day before. I had also failed to remove the makeup the night before which by now probably made me look like crap, but I didn't care. I told whoever was behind the door to enter.

It was Nate Gray, my boyfriend. Well actually he was just my boy; we weren't really that great of friends. The only reason we were still together was because we had nobody else to date. Trust me if I had other options I would've broken up with him a long time ago. It's not that we hated each other, I liked Nate I really did but we were constantly fighting. Once I had broken my knuckle hitting a wall after we had broken up for the twentieth time.

"Hey," he said as he walked over to my bed and sat down.

I didn't look at him I just stared at the blank white wall in front of my eyes.

"How are you doing?"

"How do you think I'm doing?" I said with a slight hint of an attitude.

"Come on Mitch I'm trying here!" he yelled as he jumped off the bed to defend himself.

"Give me a break Nate! My mother just died! Don't you get that? And you weren't even there! You weren't there when we found out she had cancer, you weren't there the night she died!" Tears were falling again and I could only talk in a whisper by this point, "You didn't even come to the funeral…"

He looked at me helplessly I could tell he was sorry. "That's not fair Mitch." I knew his reasons for not being there and it wasn't entirely fair for me to put all of this on him but still. I'm his girlfriend and he needs to set aside his feelings and put me first every once in a blue moon.

I took a deep breath before responding to calm myself. "You're right. I'm sorry; I'm just going through a lot right now. I shouldn't have blamed this all on you."

He sat back down and began to rub my back with the palm of his hand and put our heads together. "I know it's not your fault." He stood up and for the first time I noticed that he had red roses in his hand. He handed them to me and said, "I have to get back to work, I just thought I'd stop by and check up on you." With a kiss he left and I lay back down and sulked in my bed for the rest of the day.

Shane's POV:

"So are you going to go see her?" my best friend Caitlyn Gellar asked me pulling me out of my daydream.

"Go see who?"

"Mitchie Torres, the girl who've been in love with since what? Third grade? Her mom just died you know." she said taking a bite out of the ham and cheese sandwich I had made her for lunch.

"I know. And no I'm not going to go see her."

"Why not?" she asked as if the answer wasn't obvious to everyone who lived in Austin. No scratch that the answer was obvious to everyone who lived in the entire state of Texas.

"Caitlyn she's a cheerleader, girlfriend of... him. She doesn't even know that I exist. It'd be weird and let's not forget humiliating if I showed up at her doorstep and he didn't even know my name." I said as I pulled out a can of Mountain Dew from the refrigerator.

"Oh come on! She has to at least know your name. Don't you guys have three classes together?"

"Five." I corrected.

"Even more reason to believe she knows your name. Now go and pay her your respects and don't do that weird thing you do with your nose when you talk about her. I mean who knows what you'll do if you actually talk to the girl." she began to laugh, "You'll probably have a panic attack and she'll think you have some kind of brain damage!" she said cracking up at her own joke.

"Ha ha ha very funny." I mocked her.

"I know I am." she smirked.

I sighed, "I'll go see her."

Caitlyn jumped in her seat letting out a small yelp.

"But if she doesn't know who I am I swear you will pay."

Later that afternoon I stood at Alex Russo's doorstep waiting for someone to answer the door. This is crazy. I can't believe I let Caitlyn talk me into this. She's Mitchie Torres for crying out loud! I then remember Caitlyn's attempt to give me a pep talk before I left. Two words: epic fail.

~*~*~

"She's Mitchie Torres!" I yelled out for the eighth time that afternoon as I was sitting on the hard wooden chair that had come "free" with the dining set my mother had picked out seventeen years before. If you ask me they were just looking for an excuse to get rid of their unwanted crap so they gave it away "free". Not telling the buyer that they hide the cost of the chairs into the monthly payments. Not that I knew this for sure of course, but I'm pretty sure my accusation is correct.

Caitlyn came up from behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. "And you're Shane Gray. Love child of David Gray and Kathy Moore, half brother of Nate Gray and by far one of the classiest young men I know." She said laughing at her lame jokes. Again.

"You think you're so funny, don't you Caity?" I said with a smirk.

She smirked back, "I know I am. And just remember if you die from your panic attack, your CD collection is mine." She said letting the last word linger on her tongue.

"Fat chance."

"If you don't freak out you'll have nothing to worry about. And if you do and you do survive your can always change your name, and move to Mexico to start a potato farm with a random hobo." And as predicted Caitlyn thought she was the most hilarious person in the world and laughed at her joke yet again.

"You know one day you're going to marry a guy that thinks you're not funny at all and just a cackling idiot." That shut her up. She gave me a glare and dramatically walked out of the kitchen. She hit the wall on her way out letting the world know that Caitlyn Gellar had exited the kitchen of Shane Gray's house.

~*~*~

I waited for about three minutes outside before someone had answered the door, it was Mitchie. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, hair up in a messy bun. And judging by her extremely dark eyes she hadn't removed her eyeliner from yesterday's events. She still looked like a goddess though; she always looked beautiful no matter what. That was one of the many things that I loved about her.

She stood there for a moment studying me before I finally said, "Um…hi I don't know if you know me I'm –"

"Shane Gray right?" Oh God she knows my name. That was the only thought that went through my head for a full three seconds.

"Uh…yeah that's me. Um… I just… I just came by to see how you were doing."

She seemed surprised, "I'm doing ok."

"Well do you need anything? I could run to the store or feed your dog-" I stopped there. FEED YOUR DOG! That's the best you could do?!

She laughed slightly, "No I'm good, thanks for stopping by." Then she began to close the door.

I nodded as I turned around and began my walk of shame all the way back to my house, kicking myself in the butt the entire way.

When I reached my house Caitlyn was waiting outside on the porch swing. "How'd it go?"

"Book me a ticket to Mexico and an appointment with a legal name change agency." I said as I sat next to her. We sat there together taking in the cool breeze in silence.