"Oh, Ally, stop moping. You look like one of those singers staring out the window depressingly as their song plays in the background." Her mother teased her. She wasn't wrong there. The rain that patted the glass contributed to the effect ever so delicately. Driving all night long from Miami to God knows where North Carolina drained the energy out of the seventeen year old.

"They're paid to stare blankly out a window, Mom. I'm doing it out of free will," she responded, a playful grin appeared on the corner of her mouth. "And besides, Dad turned off the radio about 50 miles ago."

Her father, who was in charge of the vehicle, chuckled from his seat. "If it was, I would bet fifty bucks that that greeting song by the lady that has the name like a computer would be on."

"Adele, Dad. Not a Dell."

"Sounds the same to me," he eyed his daughter from the rear view mirror. "And c'mon, honey, you're going love North Carolina. We're by a beach!"

"You do realize that we've spent the last 16 years living in Miami. Where there's beaches everywhere. Literally." Ally furrowed her eyebrows and gave a small chuckle. "AND, you both decide to move us right before the start of my senior year. Do you realize how terrifying that is?"

"You always make friends quickly," her mother turned to her from the passenger's side.

"That's because I've known them all since kindergarten." She gave her a pointed look.

"Alright, alright, you have a point." The older woman nodded. "But think of it like this, you're going to be headed to college in a year anyway, it'll basically be the same thing. New town, new people, new adventures."

"That sounds like something you'd write in one of your books."

"Again, you have a point. But, please, sweetie? Just give Evans Point a chance?"

Her mother had a slight pleading look in her eyes that she knew Ally couldn't resist.

With a defeated sigh, Ally nodded. "Okay."

Her mother triumphantly smiles and resumed her position, facing the road. Her father gave a light laugh and rested his right hand on his wife's on the armrest between them. Ally had always admired her parents. Granted, they weren't her actual parents, but she never thought of them as anything less. They had given her a home when she needed one, food when her stomach lacked any, and love that she knew she could never do enough to return the favor. She loved them every bit as they loved her.

Her mother was a delicate kind of woman. She portrayed herself as the poster mom of all moms, yet had a rebellious side to her. Her mother could cook up a mean Christmas dinner as much as she could throw a perfect spiral with a football. Her job as a writer has taught Ally to always look at things from a different perspective. When Ally was young, she would read her latest drafts on her current work. Ally loved every second of it.

Her father was quite the opposite of her mother. But yet, she always knew they fit like two pieces of a puzzle. Her father owned a small business along the boardwalk of the beach in Miami. She would work there after school for a little extra cash (that she had saved up for Junior Prom). Her favorite characteristic about her father was that no matter how exhausted he was from the previous day, he would always make an effort to make her mother smile. To her, that was everything.

Now the reason for their spontaneous move remained a mystery to her. Her parents just casually dropped the bomb on her a month prior. No warning. No time to say goodbye to her friends back in Miami. She tried asking, but all they responded with was, "Just trust us." and "It's for the best."

What was for the best? Moving a seventeen year old to a new environment right before one of the biggest milestones that will ever occur in her life all the while she's still trying to figure out who she is or who she's set out to be? Being a teenager is rough and exhausting.

"Why North Carolina again?" Ally questioned subtly from the back seat.

"New memories, new-"

"Mom."

"What your mother is trying to say, maybe you'll enjoy being back? You were born here after all." Her father stated. She knew that, but Miami was her home. This place was just...a detail from her life. She knew nothing about it. "And you've always said you wanted to come back to reconnect with your biological past. Maybe you'll find something that will help you make that choice on your life?"

"Curse my tendency to express my thoughts," Ally mumbled under her breath, but her parents laughed anyway. "I didn't mean move to North Carolina, let alone Evans Point. I know nothing about it."

"New adventures, honey." Her mother winked at her.

"Right. New adventures."

She was pulling up to a free parking space at the local book store. After hours of driving on the road with her parents, who spent at least half an hour of those blasting their 80s "jams", really made her want alone time. Sure, she could've read a book at their new house, which had a cute little porch swing in front, but the only problem was that she finished all the books she had in her bag. All ten of them and she even reread some of them. Twice. One week before her senior year officially started and she planned to spend that week getting lost in the latest novel she could get her hands on. And she also needed something to do while she sat alone in the cafeteria during lunch.

On the way in, she noticed two motorcycles parked right near the entrance of the store. Her mother had told her about the clubs that were located in Evans Point, but Ally had hoped she wouldn't come in contact with them. Not that she had a problem with motorcycles or clubs. Just those two put together made something inside her churn. Whether it was positive or negative, she had no idea.

The inside of the store wasn't too huge nor too small. It was the size of a typical local, independent book business and Ally didn't mind it at all. She actually found it quite quaint.

After twenty minutes, she managed to pull out a good five new (well new to her) books from the shelves and presumed to head to the check out.

On her way, she cracked one of the books in her arms open to read the synopsis of the story. Nearing the middle of the explanation, she was left hanging when all of the items in her grasp followed gravity to the floor. The multiple thuds of the four-hundred pages books caught the attention of several customers around her and she felt her cheeks heat up.

"S-sorry," she stuttered, nervously looking around, sending apologetic looks to people around her. They simply returned a sympathetic smile and resumed their business. Ally picked up her books one by one when she suddenly felt someone's stare. Looking up slowly, her eyes met the culprit's. Meaning, the person she had collided with moments prior.

He looked about her age, if not a few years older. His blonde hair swept across his face and was slightly discombobulated. She figured from wearing the helmet he held in his left hand. His eyes continued to lock on hers and she couldn't help but think that those eyes felt...familiar. She didn't know who he was or where she felt like she had seen him before, but she had this weird sensation in the pit of her stomach. They were a shade of hazel with speckles of green around the irises.

Neither of them decided to move. There was a silence between them and a few seconds later, Ally made the first move and disconnected their gazes at each other. She picked up the last remaining book on the floor and stood.

She cleared her throat and the boy also stood. Okay, he wasn't a boy. He had a good foot over her in height and he clearly had been acquainted with a gym or some sort of exercise. His jet black leather jacket triggered her amygdala (thank you psychology class) and her throat went dry again.

"I'm sorry, I should've-uh, looked where I was going," she refused to look him in the eyes again. He said nothing in return and she took this as a cue to brush passed the blonde and to the counter. Had she really not noticed how fast her heartbeat was?

Bum bum bumbum

Bumbum bum bum

She could still feel his stare against her back, but she dared not looking over her shoulder. She saw a tall red-head moved behind her.

"Alright, I found the-" he paused. Was he talking to the blonde behind her? "Dude, you okay?"

Don't do it, Ally. Don't look back.

Try as she did, she slowly shifted her gaze over her shoulder. She caught sight of the two rapidly whispering to each other and the blonde headed in her direction, causing the red-head to look at her. She felt herself gasp and whip her head back to the cashier who began to ring up her books.

She paid in full and told her to keep the change, not wanting to stay a moment longer.

Walking-fast paced walking-to her car, Ally scrambled to take her keys from her purse. She heard the store door open after her and she was pretty sure her heart stopped or she stopped breathing.

An older woman exited the store after her, humming a light tune. With a sigh of relief, Ally reached her car and fumbled with her keys. With a sigh, she pressed the unlock button and opened the door of the backseat. She placed her pile of books on the ground of the car and stood back up. At that moment, the two guys that were in the bookstore appeared.

She could hear their hurried, hushed tones and she debated on whether to sneak a peak at them. Out her of her peripheral vision, she noticed the two of them walking to the motorcycles parked.

Perfect. She thought. She basically just broke her first rule. No motorcycles. Granted that she didn't know much about them, during her Driver's Ed class sophomore year, a guest speaker explained all the technical rules about them. Helmets: yes. Short pants that don't cover down to your ankles: no.

"Not wearing the proper gear can lead to a severe burn or worse." He had informed the class. She decided not to play with the 'or worse' option.

The blonde attached his helmet onto his head and turned on the motorcycle. The engine revved into a loud, blistering roar and his friend did the same. He looked back over his shoulder and Ally could have sworn that he looked at her before lifting his foot that kept him from toppling over and racing away on the Harley-Davidson.

She let go the breath that she didn't know she was holding in and opened the driver's door. Sliding in, she gripped the wheel with one single thought running through her head. Who was that guy and why did he seem so uncomfortably familiar?

School began the following week and try as she did, every now and then her thoughts wandered back to that day at the book store. Ally had read all about infamous biker gangs and clubs in her books countless times. Though, she will admit to herself that she found that type very interesting and mysterious, she knew how things went down between two rivals. One word: trouble. Whether a dispute ended in a fist fight or one that included weapons and blood, she wanted to keep that experience in her fictional life, meaning in the books.

Her new school was slightly smaller than Marino High back in Miami. Granted, Miami was a more populated city in comparison to Evans Point. Her class had at least 800 and here it was about 500, give or take a few drop outs. Marino had several courtyards leading to other buildings and Evans Point High had only one, leading from the main building to the performing arts building behind it.

Glancing at her schedule, she mapped out where and when she would head down certain hallways. Her last class of the day was in the performing arts building, which she was already looking forward to. Lunch, however, she planned to spend in the library, if she didn't get a chance to converse with anyone in a class and at least make a friend.

Ally was readjusting her backpack from falling off her shoulder when a high pitched squeal nearly broke her eardrum. With a jump, she looked around and saw several cheerleaders gather. They began to chatter rapidly.

"Omg, did you hear he's coming back this year?"

"Yes!"

More squeals and giggles.

"You have just witnessed the inevitable world of the cheerleaders and their incapability to contain themselves like normal humans," a voice caught her attention. She turned to see a curly-haired Latina shaking her head. She was about Ally's height and Ally could tell she gave no craps about being short.

"Oh, believe me. I've had my fair share of those to last me a lifetime." She chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at the girls who were still fangirling about who knows what. "Miami's got a wide range of people."

"Ah, a Miami girl, huh? My cousins live there," the curly haired one nodded. She held out her hand. "De la Rosa. Trish. Never Patricia."

Ally complied and shook the girl's hand. "Dawson. Ally. Never Allyson."

"You know, Dawson, I like your spunk. I think we'll get along swimmingly." Trish draped an arm over Ally's shoulder and silently asked for her schedule. "Lucky for you we have lunch together. And practically every other class."

Thank God.

"You have just made my entire day." Ally gave out a sigh of relief.

"Stick with me, kid. I'll show you the tricks and trade of how Evans Point lives and breathes."

The two of them walked past the cheerleaders to their homeroom. "Who are they talking about anyway?"

"Since you're new around here, it's better if you don't find out. But if you really wanted to know," Trish paused for a moment. "Those wackadoodles are talking about the one person you'd never want to come face to face with. He's nothing but trouble."

Hello again, my darlings! It's been a while! This is a new story that I've been really craving to write! And how Normah has reacted, I'm feeling very positive about the concept!

xoxo