It's a one-shot, modern day, vaguely fairy tale based. Meant to be sweet and corny. --smile--

I scurried into the room, breathing hard and looking around me. Good. I was safe here. A knife hit the wall two inches from the end of my nose and stuck, lethal point wedged firmly, in the plaster. I screamed bloody murder (which was, ironically, what almost happened) as any normal girl would, and bolted out the other door. My feet, clad in their customary converse, hit the carpet with brute force, propelling me away from the eerie laughter floating behind me.

"You can run, but you can't hide from death, princess."

Beeping started up in the wall next to me and I ran faster, trying to outrun his crazy new assassination device. The beeping continued, getting faster and faster as I skidded around corners, eyes wildly scanning the blank walls for a door.

Beep, beep, beep, beepbeepbeepbeep.

The beeping became frantic and I heard a low rumbling. With a shriek, I threw my hands over my head and dove onto the floor --

BANG!

I woke up with a yelp and a cry of fear. The man! Where is he! What happened?!

My mind came slowly to a realization of reality and I dragged myself out from underneath my desk, kicking off the tangled sheets. I punched the alarm clock savagely and the batteries fell out, but it stopped beeping.

I just killed the only clock in my entire apartment. Fantastic.

Growling at my misfortune, I shoved the sheets haphazardly back onto the bed and grabbed the clothes on my table. Or, I tried to. My fingers skimmed empty air and I realized with another growl that I was too busy writing my Physics presentation the night before to set out clothes. Muttering darkly, I quickly pulled a rumpled outfit from my crammed drawers and stuffed my sleeping appendages into it.

I looked at my clock automatically, then remembered that it was dead. I had no idea what time it was.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I shouted at myself, probably confirming my neighbor's belief that I was an utterly insane college student. "You just had to lend your phone to Ariana, didn't you?"

I yanked my brush through my tangled, shoulder length blonde hair and observed my reflection with distaste in the mirror.

Typical girl. As usual.

I wished vaguely that I would have one of those pretty days soon. I loved feeling like I was pretty, and it didn't happen often. But, it didn't look like it was fated to be that day. Since I had no idea what time it was, I just swiped the toothbrush quickly through my mouth and snagged my compact, in case I had time to do makeup in the car, where my only working clock now was.

Lifting my messenger bag off its hook and slipping into my converse, I quickly debated whether or not to bring my jacket. I looked outside.

Sunny.

That could mean the day was cheerful, a last vestige of summer, or bitter, haha it's fall and you aren't ready, loser. I then noticed the coffee stain on my jacket and hoped for the best, leaving it behind. I locked the door quickly, then checked through the contents of my bag as I jogged down the hall. Keys, books, homework, flash drive, lap top. Good.

I waved at Mrs. Brilge, who was standing in the foyer, and she gave me a strange look. I looked down at myself quickly. Shirt down, pants up, fly zipped, shoes tied, what was that for? I shook it off, dismissing it as old-person-hating-the-young-kids mania, and pushed open the door. A blast of icy wind hit me full-frontal and whipped right through my thin cotton shirt and worn blue jeans. I shivered, wishing plagues upon the vacillating weather, and hit the unlock button on the remote.

The red Ford Escort didn't gift me with the flashing headlights most newer cars did, which always made me kind of sad. Almost like the car was dying, and didn't have enough energy even for a feeble wave. I opened the door, threw my messenger bag into the passenger seat, and slid behind the wheel. Unfortunately, I bumped the wheel. I slammed the door shut against the offending cold and yelled in frustration.

"I don't have time for this! Please work!" I told the impassive dashboard, jamming the keys into the ignition and wiggling the gearshift.

It didn't oblige. I wrenched the steering wheel back and forth, then tried the gearshift again. No clicking. I tried the ignition anyway, but the keys remained firmly locked in place.

"I need a new car!" I said in aggravation, not for the first time, as I twiddled with the gearshift and steering wheel for another agonizing minute. Then, it clicked and the car started. I looked at the clock.

l.l

"ARGH!"

I shoved the gearshift into drive and pulled out of the parking spot, determining that I was going to at least get a new clock for the car, because apparently too many winters had frozen the numbers. I had totally forgotten about that, because this was the first cold night of the season. I drove madly to the university twenty minutes away, trying to judge by the amount of light what time it was. All I could figure was that it was after 6, because that's when the sun rose, and probably not too much after because it hadn't risen above the buildings yet.

If the guesstimate was to be trusted, I was just about on time, then, for my 7:05 class. I switched on the radio, sighing with relief as K Love's morning show faded in with only a slight static. John and Sherry. The only people that kept me alive for the early morning classes. I kept glancing back at the clock. Slowly, lines were filling in, but I still couldn't grasp what it was trying to say.

Then, Sherry announced the time, laughing, as ten past the hour. That assuaged my frantic pace a little, and I actually let someone cut in front of me. They waved a thank-you and I waved back. It was good to be nice. I almost forgot.

God, please help me have a good day today. Help me be calm and take things in stride.

Another line flickered in, completing the time and interrupting my prayer.

7:19

Seven? SEVEN?! I hit the gas, pushing the needle up to 76, and swerved onto my exit. I took the 35pmh curve at a little over 50 and zoomed into the parking lot. Oh no. Not now.

A flood of other students, also late to class, whizzed around the parking lot, slamming on the brakes and avoiding each other by inches. I moaned and rubbed my eyes, hoping it would all be a figment of my sleepy brain.

It wasn't.

"No, no, NO!"

I sped through the maze, letting my eyes wander over the lines as I passed. No vacancy. No vacancy. AH! I hit the brakes and jerked the steering wheel right. Another car had the same idea, from the other end. I narrowed my eyes.

"I don't think so."

I revved my pathetic engine and roared toward the single space. Closer, closer --

"HANG IT! A PLAGUE ON THIS ROTTEN CAR!"

The sleek Monte Carlo had easily beaten me to the spot. I found a spot one minute 48 seconds later, all the way at the far end, and ran to my class at full tilt. I almost got run over at the crosswalk, but managed to jump ahead before the car careened into me.

This was going to be a bad day. Anyone could tell you that. I, however, was still holding out some hope. I burst into the classroom, probably looking like the embodiment of death itself, and slumped into my seat nearest the door. The students looked up for a moment, then back down at their notes.

Good. It looked like I was still going to be in time for my presentation.

"Miss Grady, I trust you are prepared for your presentation, despite your rather unconventional appearance half an hour late?"

I winced at the professor's sarcastic remark.

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Very good. Up you come then."

"Now?" I squeaked, digging out my notecards from the front pocket of my bag.

"Yes, now," he said impatiently. "The class time is half over and I want to cover 5.6 before we leave today."

I was panting in a horribly doglike fashion, and was sweating profusely, yet who can argue with the all-powerful teacher?

Someone who wants Fs. Who is not me.

I gulped and stood, flashdrive in one hand and notecards in the other. This was going to be the worst presentation ever, but I'd at least pass, because I had the right diagrams on my flashdrive. I plugged the blue device into the computer and pushed the projector button, then opened up my slide presentation.

I noted with a sigh of relief that it was all there. I began my presentation, pointing out things on the slides and talking about electromagnetism and its uses. I was halfway through when I drew a blank. I began to panic. I looked down at my notecard for help.

Need new jeans.

Call Helen – 465-7890

PHYS PRES!!

AH! MY TO DO LIST! I flipped through the other cards. They were blank.

Oh

no.

"And uh, you can also use electromagnetism for... uh," I stuttered, looking desperately at my slide presentation. There was a diagram waiting to be put on the board, but for the life of me I had no idea what it meant.

"Nevermind, that's it. To sum everything up..." I covered quickly, going straight into my conclusion and skipping the mystery slide.

Polite applause followed my speech and I unplugged the flashdrive, then sat down, cheeks burning.

"Not terrible, Miss Grady, but I must ask you – how did electro-magnets in junkyard escape your careful research? I would think that would be one of the most forthcoming uses."

"Oh, right, those," I said dumbly. The diagram made sense now, not that it mattered anymore.

"Yes, those," he mocked. "Now, please open your books..."

The rest of my physics class passed in a hazy blur of confusion. I couldn't concentrate on anything; my mind was still in overdrive from this morning's frantic start. It's then I realized I didn't put on any make-up yet. Fantastic. So now I look hideous and dead, what a great combination. I'll be on the run from undertakers and fashion police alike!

"You're dismissed, see you all tomorrow," he droned, closing his folder.

I snapped my book shut and dropped it in my bag, jogging out the door and into the nearest restroom for my much-needed makeover. As I hurried, I scanned the walls for a clock. My next class was at 8:15 and being late twice in one day would be horribly embarrassing.

8:09. Good. Just enough time to slap on some eyeshadow and lip gloss.

I ducked into the restroom and stopped in front of the mirror, looking at myself in horror. This was not happening. I closed my eyes and opened them again.

Nope. It was. My shirt was backwards and inside out. How did that happen!? No wonder the crazy old lady gave me a weird look. I'm surprised my physics class didn't laugh me out of the room! Then again, who pays attention to presentations anyway?

I looked around the small bathroom – no empty stalls. My minutes were ticking away and I had to make a decision. There was no way I was leaving this bathroom like this, but I didn't exactly want to take my shirt off in the middle of the public restroom either! What if someone walked in, or walked out of the stall?

Well, there was no buts about it. I'd just have to be quick. I peeled my shirt off with alarming speed and resituated it. Halfway through pulling it back on, someone opened the door from outside.

This is so not happening, I thought in horror, yanking the rest of it over my head. A guy stood in the doorway, looking extremely surprised and quite uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?" I said icily. "This is not generally a good place for peeping Toms."

He looked more confused, and glanced at the sign on the door. A sick feeling of dread told me not to look at the sign, but my eyes followed without my consent and I learned something that just made my day 150 percent worse.

I had just taken my shirt off in the men's bathroom.

Where all the stalls were occupied.

Which meant there were MEN in all of them!

Good heavens.

Then I told off a boy for coming into his own bathroom to see a half-dressed girl.

"OhmygoshI'msosorry," I blurted, and shoved past him out the door. The clock now read 8:14, I noticed, as I ran with flaming cheeks out the building door and down the bricked walkway to the next building.

I burst into my classroom for the second time that morning, attracting the attention of those faithful few who attended the geeks' chemistry class. The only seat was in the front row. Of course. With the way this day was going, I was expecting Professor Vildin to announce that there was a test I forgot to study for. Wait, there is a test. But, I did study, so HA! Take that, fate!

The test was first, and I breezed through it. I had been through the material the night before, and I remembered it all. Until I hit the last question.

This question is worth 50 of your test grade. If you've been paying attention in class, you should be able to give me a good sized paragraph of information about the combination of...

I remembered discussing it in class on multiple occasions, but my memory failed me. What exactly was the answer? Seconds and minutes flew past me without care as I sat, sweating, and trying to figure out the answer.

"Time's up. I will collect your tests now," Professor Villain – Vildin, I mean – chirped.

I scrawled some chemistry jargon into the blank and handed him the paper, knowing full well that I got lower than a 50. This would not bode well for my overall grade, which was struggling between a C and a D. I put my head on my arms, and realized again that I still had no make-up on.

After that three hour class was over, I finally applied some make-up before skidding into my next class, thirty seconds before the professor arrived. Things were looking up! My shirt was on the right way, I no longer looked like and ogre, and I was on time for my class.

Still, I felt like I was forgetting something. I looked around the classroom and saw students munching on granola bars or chips, and my stomach rumbled indignantly.

Food. Of course. I had totally forgotten about that little necessity of life. This was another three hour class, which put me delaying lunch until 2:30. Not a good plan, my stomach reminded me, burbling pitifully again.

I left that class late, eating a flimsy bought lunch while running to my statistics class which had homework I neglected to do. I stuffed the last of my $1 PB&J sandwich into my math and wiped a smear of jelly off the homework paper as I quickly began working the calculation for the intersection of event A and B if the probability was… .2? Wait, what? I thought the probabilities weren't symmetrical. Drat! I dragged my eraser over the whole problem and started again just as the Professor arrived.

Needless to say, I didn't do well on that assignment.

The whole day passed in this manner, sometimes speeding up and other times slowing down and always at the most inconvenient time. The small beep of someone's watch announcing that it was 6pm sounded like heavenly bells pealing to my ears. I gratefully rose from my seat and slid my textbook into my straining messenger bag, sidestepping through the slower people at a beeline for the door. I could almost smell the comforting aroma of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese with hotdogs.

"Miss Grady? Could I speak to you for a moment please?"

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming. The visions of steamy, cheesy goodness vanished instantly as I turned around and fixed Professor Panning with a cheerful smile.

"Yes, Professor; is something wrong?"

"Not at all," he said with a chuckle. "I was wondering if you could do me a quick favor."

The last few students sauntered out the door.

"Of course," I gritted through my convincing smile.

He smiled apologetically and brushed the longish unkempt brown hair out of his eyes.

"It's our anniversary tonight and I totally forgot until after I'd already gotten to school. I was hoping to pick up some flowers on the way home, but she said dinner would be served at 6:45, so I guess you see my dilemma."

He motioned at the lab equipment he'd been showing us how to use in preparation for our dissection this Friday. It was stowed away in one large cardboard box and tied firmly shut.

"Yeah," I said with a barely suppressed sigh.

"Could you take it up to the lab for me? I'll give you the key, just drop it in my box on your way out."

"No problem," I agreed. This would be my good deed for the day. For the WEEK. I could be saving this poor guy's marriage!

"Thanks a million," he said, flashing me a bright smile and handing me the smooth lab door key.

"No problem," I repeated, "have a good evening, professor."

"You too!" he shouted back as the door closed.

I stared at the box, willing it to levitate itself. After a few moments passed and the box did not obey, I slipped the key into my pocket and hefted the box with a groan. It was heavier than it looked. I stumped out of the classroom, bag slapping against my thighs as I mounted the stairs leading to the laboratory.

We really needed to get elevators for that building. Carrying a heavy box up two flights of stairs nearly did me in. By the time I was leaning against the lab door struggling to fit the key in the lock, I was huffing for breath. Thankfully the key did fit, the first good thing that happened all day. Really, having something good happen earlier would have been nice, but better late than never.

I propped the door open with my foot and slid the box inside, then found the cabinet where it belonged and set it on the shelf. The macaroni was sounding even better right about now; I nearly started humming for joy as I headed out the door. Well, tried to. I jiggled the knob but it didn't open.

I then remembered that you had to unlock it from the inside too. I reached into my pocket for the key but my fingers grabbed lint instead. Where was the key? I fished around in my other pocket, realizing that my bad day had come crashing down again. No key. I was locked in the highest room of the tallest building and I had no food.

"ISN'T THIS JUST PERFECT!" I shouted, starting to open my messenger bag so I could call the help desk from my cell phone.

Then I remembered that I lent it to Ariana and she didn't give it back to me in Stats today! I started slamming my fists onto the door and yelling for help, partially in anger.

Twenty minutes later, I was huddled on the floor underneath someone's jacket that they had left here and bemoaning my lost dinner.

"Looks like I've got a comfortable night ahead of me," I grumbled, trying to make myself as warm as possible.

The floor was freezing cold and insanely hard. I never thought I could actually sleep on it, especially when I wasn't trying to. But, when I was jerked awake by someone's hand on my shoulder, I knew I must have.

"Good heavens!" I yelped, startling awake and locking my gaze into two very green eyes.

"Sorry I woke you," the voice said, a surprisingly high tenor.

I blinked a few times to clear my eyes, and recognized a boy from the geek physics class. Brian? Bruce? Brawn?

"Thank you for finding me," I muttered, slightly embarrassed at the sight I must have made.

"I forgot my coat earlier, so I came back to get it. The key was right outside the door," he said awkwardly.

I then realized I had been sleeping with his coat. My face flushed bright red and I handed him the warm winter jacket.

"Sorry," I repeated.

"It's fine. I'm glad it came to some use."

He held his hand out and helped me up. It occurred to me that he held on for a second or two longer than was normal and when he started talking, I used that excuse to examine him.

"I'll give you a ride to your car if you want," he was saying, as my eyes flitted over the rest of his features.

The hair was messily cut, according to style, slightly long. Dusty blond curls curved around his ears and gave him the look of a sweet puppy. He was at least a head taller than me, putting him at maybe 5' 10" or so, and he had on baggy jeans and an old Switchfoot T-shirt. His eyes were green, and inexplicably magnetic. I found myself staring into them instead of looking at anything else. His gaze became confused as I remained silent.

"Oh sorry, yes, please, that would be great," I babbled, wrenching my eyes off him.

He smiled, looking slightly nervous, and started walking.

"Where did you park?"

I kept stride with him with only a little difficulty.

"Lot 7," I answered, "near the back."

"Bad luck," he commented with a sympathetic smile.

"No kidding," I grumbled, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

This conversation was a little awkward, and we both knew it. I looked up at a clock as we passed; it was only 7:30!

"Killer test today, huh?" he said slowly, with the distinct aura that he was grasping at straws.

I groaned loudly.

"Yes. I couldn't think of the answer to the last problem to save my life!"

"That stinks," he said with another sympathetic look.

"My whole day stinks," I muttered darkly.

As if to prove my point, my stomach rumbled and my bag ripped simultaneously. I really felt like screaming.

"YEEARGH!"

I slapped my hand over my mouth, realizing I had just made that noise. The boy seemed startled, but not altogether surprised. I think his eyes even twinkled in some amusement as he knelt to help me gather my books.

"Sorry," I squeaked, "it just kinda... slipped out."

"You've had a bad day," he said with a shrug. "It happens."

We dropped Professor Panning's key in his box and walked the rest of the way to his car, parked conveniently in Lot 13 just out the back of the Bio building, in silence. He pulled out the clicker and unlocked the battered white mustang, then pulled open the passenger door for me.

"Thank you," I said again, and slid into the old car.

And thank you, God, for making something nice happen today, I prayed with a silent sigh, realizing that I hadn't been focusing on God at all throughout the whole day.

"No problem. My mom taught me to save damsels in distress," he said easily, starting the ignition.

I fingered the soft plastic of the door and let my eyes wander over the car's interior. There was leftover fastfood wrappers and various papers on the floor, and a half-full coffee cup in the cupholder. The stereo system was old, but I could hear K Love faint but clear over the hum of the engine.

"My car's a wreck," he said with mild embarrassment. "Sorry."

"I don't care. I'm happy for a ride," I said truthfully. "I'm over in that corner," I continued, pointing.

He followed my instructions through the mostly deserted parking lot and pulled in next to my red Escort.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked.

"Knowing how this day is going, probably not. Can you stick around for a minute, to make sure my car isn't going to play dead?" I asked in semi-jest.

He chuckled, but remained where he was as I unlocked my car and sat down. I plugged the keys into the ignition and turned them. Nothing. I frowned and tried again. Not even a whine. No pressure. Like I was just turning the keys in a dial.

"What's going on?" he asked, opening the passenger side door and looking in.

"It's not starting!" I cried, beginning to panic.

I jammed the keys forward and backward again violently. He put his hand over mine and turned the key himself.

Still nothing. But his hand was very warm. And very dry. Mine were sweaty.

"Maybe there's a disconnect between the ignition and the starter," he murmured. "I don't know anything about cars, but this needs to be looked at. Obviously."

"Obviously," I repeated, noticing that he hadn't taken his hand off mine yet. I didn't particularly mind.

"I'll call the local shop and have them come pick it up for you," he added, lifting his hand off mine and stepping out of the car.

I got out of the car, wincing. Auto shops meant money, which is something no college student has a lot of. Depending on what the shop said, I could be living on beans and weenies for a while. Great. Oh, wonderful, now he'd said something and I missed it entirely.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said I'd give you a ride home," he repeated.

He had his thumb in his pocket, but his other fingers were drumming idly on his thigh. In his other hand, he was swinging the keys in lazy circles.

"Yeah, thanks," I said, feeling like I'd said thank you far too many times in a short setting.

He called the shop as we drove off campus and they agreed to come tow it, and I would drop the keys off in the morning. Before I could open my mouth to tell him how to get home, my stomach growled very loudly. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping against all reason that he hadn't heard that.

"Hungry?" he asked, sounding like he was holding back a laugh.

"Yeah," I agreed quietly, prying my eyes open. "I've got a gourmet dinner waiting at home, too. Mac'n'Cheese."

"We could stop somewhere for a bite – I'm famished too," he offered.

"Oh no, it's okay," I said quickly, then realized how bad that sounded. "I don't exactly have money with me," I added. "And with this auto-shop thing... yeah. Sounds great, though."

"I wouldn't let you pay for your own meal!" he said, almost affronted. "Geez. So, you hungry? We're going to eat. Where to?"

As we spent more time together, he seemed to have gotten less shy and more forceful. That wasn't such a bad thing either.

"I don't care. Anywhere with food," I said gratefully.

We ended up stopping at Arby's and talking about my horrible day. We both laughed at all the awful things that happened, and I realized just how funny my day really was. Then we talked about his family, and my family, and where he was from and where I was from, our favorite music (we both hated the local favorite of country), K Love, whether or not it should just give in and get commercials, why TV was horrible (even though we both watched some of it anyway) and basically anything that came to mind. We didn't leave Arby's until 9pm.

He took me home from there, and slowed to a stop by the entry door, promising to pick me up for school the next day.

"Six o'clock, right?" he verified, as he opened my door.

"Right," I huffed, carrying my tall stack of books.

"Do you want me to help you?" he asked.

"No no, I'm fine," I said with a smile. "I'm just inside the door and I've kept you out late enough anyway."

"It's not late, but whatever," he said, shrugging.

"Well, uh," I said after a pause. "Thanks again. I owe you one."

"No problem at all, glad I could help."

Another pause. We just looked at each other, and he seemed like he might want to say something more. His eyes caught the dim light from the building and reflected it with a brilliant green. I was suddenly struck with the image of brand-new leaves in the spring.

"I'll... see you tomorrow then," he said at last.

My arms were starting to ache and I nodded.

"Seeya."

He laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it slightly as he passed, on his way to the driver's side. I walked into the building, and if not for the weight of my books I might have skipped. I did however, start to sing, scaring a lady I passed in the hall.

"Late at night I wonder why
Sometimes I wonder why
Sometimes I'm so tired
I don't even try
Seems everything around me fails
But I hold on to the promise
That there is a reason..."

Did you like it? You know you want to review and tell me what you thought. It won't take too long. I'll give you a slice of home-made chocolate pie!