1

I remember thinking to myself, now there's a handsome one.

Typically, I ignore men. I have yet to meet a respectable man, or at least one I'd be willing to kiss. And the ones who are are jerks, jocks, and douches. Such is a teenage girl's life; boys, and homework.

Normally I wouldn't give the time of day to the newest hottie in town, but something about this one caught my eye. I stole glances from my notebook as he quietly talked with Mr. Austin.

I'm pretty perceptive; the air was filled with an estrogen-tainted charge. Apparently, I wasn't the only one to notice him walk in the room. I saw the other girls quickly running their fingers through their hair or scooting over a bit to point out an empty seat. I even caught Mattie Haynes unbuttoning her shirt a little.

My momentary infatuation passed. I wasn't blind; I was no competition for the blondeheads in this class. The new guy would be drooling over one of them in a few weeks.

To my greatest surprise and joy, my handsome man set his green backpack in the chair beside me. Honestly, I could have died right then and there and been fine with it.

As he settled into his seat, Austin cleared his throat a little (though he really didn't need to; everyone was dying to know Handsome's name) and said brightly, "A new face to a new school year; Ryan Jones. Glad to have ya with us, Ryan."

I almost nodded in agreement, then caught myself. I couldn't help it; immediately, I thought to myself, Victoria Jones. Yeah, I could live with that name.

I should have introduced myself. I should have turned right in my seat, locked eyes with him, smile, and introduce myself. Instead, I raised my head a little, thought of all the ways I could embarrass myself, and quickly went back to writing. Great, I thought, real swell. It doesn't matter if he was the one, because your too damn shy to even look at him.

I was the definition of awkward introvert. Sure, speeches were fine; I could memorize a speech. But conversation? You can't memorize that. Too unpredictable—it was the reason I barely talked, and even then, in as few words as possible.

But Ryan wasn't shy—absolutely not. Barely five minutes had past and he struck up a real, almost long-lost-friend conversation with Johnny Burns.

"Hey, you on the football team?"

"Hell yeah I am. You're looking at Ravenmore High's own Johnny Burns, the next Brett Favre."

"I take it you're the quarterback."

"The one and only."

"Any chance you're having tryouts for the team soon?"

My heart deflated. My handsome Ryan, just another jock. I literally sighed. God, I hope he didn't hear.

"Our season's about to start. Tryouts were last week, before school started. What'd you play?"

"Wide Receiver."

"You any good?"

"It's my favorite position."

"Yeah, but if you aren't any good, don't bother wasting my time."

There was a pause before Ryan responded. I could hear the frown in his voice, "I'm good, Johnny. Very good."

"Oh, yeah? Well, let me talk to Coach then, buddy. Trust me, one word from me, and you'll be on the team before you can say Johnny Burns."

Ryan didn't reply.

I saw him shift in his seat back to a normal position. Then, he turned to me.

"Are you reading a book in this class?"

I glanced at him. At him. I never reached his face; I stared awkwardly at a knot on his desk. "Yes."

He didn't say anything. I realized my mistake. I quickly looked at my own desk and talked to my notebook.

"Catcher in the Rye. We just started it." Look at him, damnit.

"Thanks."

I didn't look up for the rest of the period. When the bell rang, I jumped up so fast I knocked Ryan's book off his desk.

"Uh, sorry," I mumbled, positive he didn't hear me. I picked up his book, all too aware my hands were sweaty. I didn't even realize his hand was out to take the book from me. I awkwardly, half-set it, half-threw it on his desk.

I practically ran away.

But the world decided to hate me that day, and as I sighed in relief as I took my seat in my next class, Ryan walked in. of course, he looked around the room, at all five of us who were early to class, noticed me, and smiled.

Awkwardly, I glanced away and pretended to be fully absorbed by the blank chalkboard. I heard someone sit in the usually empty chair next to me. Ryan.

"Two classes in a row huh?"

I smiled way too big. "Yeah," I laughed, talking to the chair in front of me. Jeez, I must have looked crazy.

"Hey, do you have Math next, with Fletcher?"

Thank the gods. "No."

There was that awkward pause again. Again, I realized my mistake. "I've got Art," I said way too quickly.

I'd never been more excited to see Mr. Battersby walk in the room. Ryan stood up and went over to him. It wasn't long before he was back next to me.

"As you can see our numbers have increased by one. Ryan, welcome to Siderock, and to US History."

"Thanks," Ryan said smoothly.

Thankfully, History was entirely made of PowerPoints and lectures, so I didn't have to try to and make my mouth form the jumble of thoughts in my head for an entire hour. I threw myself into my notes like never before.

And when the bell rang, I sat still while Ryan packed up. I couldn't help but glance up as he swung his backpack onto his shoulder. We locked eyes. Damnit.

"Well, see you… Mind if I ask your name?"

I actually looked at him this time. "Victoria Greene."

He smiled. "Well then, I'll see you soon, Vicky."

"It's Tori."

I didn't mean to say it so harsh, but I always hated Vicky. That's what my Dad called me.

Ryan just nodded. "Cool."

I wondered if I had ruined all my chances at Ryan with just those two words. Then I remembered I never even had a chance to begin with.

My break form Ryan only lasted two periods. As I walked into Biology, my eyes locked with a familiar green backpack. Oh, no.

"Wow. Three classes, huh, Tori?"

Again, I laughed way too hard. Man, I had to get that checked.

Ryan sat at my lab table. My lab table; I'd sat here alone for the past few months, enjoying my space.

Our teacher, Mr. Deines, was often a little late to class, so I braced myself for Ryan to strike up a conversation. It didn't take long.

"Mind if I ask what you've got next?"

"Lunch."

"And after that?"

"P.E."

"With who?"

"Mahoney."

He paused.

I looked at him anxiously. "You don't have P.E. too, do you?"

He smiled. One of those bright white, movie-star smiles. I manages not to look away. "What, you getting tired of me?"

"No! I mean, I don't mind you in my classes…" I trailed off. A sudden spark of bravery hit me. "What do you have seventh period?"

"Spanish."

"One, two, or three?"

He had to pull out his schedule for that. I was proud of myself. Two unaided questions from me. Maybe I was getting used to this.

"Spanish Two, with Rivero."

"That's scary," I murmured.

Ryan laughed. His laugh was perfect, of course. "Five out of seven, huh? If I ever miss a day, I hope you don't mind if I ask you what I missed."

I looked at him again, clear in the face. "Not at all," I said smoothly. Man, I was getting good at this social stuff.

Deines finally arrived. Ryan went up to him too, and I used the time to get out my books and pencil.

"Everyone, this is Ryan Jones. Ryan Jones, everyone."

The class nodded to Ryan. Biology wasn't a fun class. Deines was infamous for his dry lectures and almost nonexistent understanding of teenagers. He shook hands with Ryan before Ryan came back to his seat. As Deines turned his back to us to write something on the board, Ryan leaned toward me. I think my heart skipped a beat.

"This is a hard class, I take it?"

I nodded, then pointed to Deines' back. Thankfully, Ryan understood, and I focused in on synapses and axons for the next hour.

This time, when the bell rang, Ryan and I walked out of the classroom together. I couldn't help but notice in the halls all the stares I got. Obviously, Ryan was getting double takes, but I was getting incredulous looks. Clearly, it was a mystery to all the girls in leopard miniskirts how I, in jeans and a oversized hoodie, got to walk with this handsome man.

I showed Ryan a quick shortcut through the teacher's parking lot to the gym, and we parted ways to get changed.

The locker room was smelly as always, but today I felt a few more stares than normal. Finally, as I was tying my shoes, one of the girls spoke up.

"That Ryan guy is pretty cute, isn't he?"

"OMG, he is smoking hot!" another said.

And like that, they were off. Every girl in the locker room was fawning and squealing over Ryan. I felt my shoulders hunch as I walked toward the door. A mirror hung just before the exit. I glanced at it as I left the locker-room.

Standard, slightly stained white shirt with baggy, P.E. issued shorts. Pale, skinny legs, glasses… yeah, I was the total package. The other girls wore low-cut, close fitting shirts, booty-shorts, and cute little sneakers. I didn't want to go out there and stand next to them. It was literally a lineup, a comparison of hot vs. not. I wouldn't say I was ugly, just plain. Just different. I had short hair—like spiked, boy-short hair. I guess my eyes were okay—blue, but behind the glasses they looked brownish. I would have worn contacts, but it's not like I got an email about Ryan showing up today.

I shuffled and dragged my feet to the gym. I could hear the guys shooting hoops while they waited for the girls to change. Generally, I was the first out of the girl's locker-room, and sometimes I'd join in on a basketball game. But today, I slide along the wall, trying to stay out of mind for everyone. I didn't see Ryan yet, luckily. He was probably getting the lowdown from Mahoney.

I sat down in my spot on the wall and waited, hugging my knees, for the others girl to show up and steal my Ryan.

I always disliked P.E.. Now I hated it.

Not to say I wasn't athletic. Surprisingly, I'm fairly average in sports, besides running. I was one of the few girls who actually tried, and I wasn't afraid of the ball or anything. Not to say I looked good do it though; I'd seen footage. Yeah, I'd get the job done, but I looked like a duck trying to fly; flapping my arms around and twisting my legs in weird directions. I was never graceful, and the other blondeheads in my class added insult to injury. Somehow, I got stuck with the supermodels.

Mahoney finally entered the gym, followed by Ryan in a uniform. Mahoney gathered us around and introduced Ryan. I hung around at the back, practically out of sight, but when Mahoney asked us to say hello to Ryan, he looked straight at me and smiled.

We were in the middle of our soccer unit. I was picked for goalie ( I could kick okay, but I hands like glue), and Ryan decided to play defense near me. Or team was pretty good, and the ball ended up on the enemy's side more than ours. Naturally, Ryan was a natural athlete. He never went forward, but when he had the ball he played like a pro.

The other girls were actually playing today, daintly kicking the ball and playing the damsel whenever Ryan was nearby. Mattie Haynes was in the class, and I watched Ryan give her a hand after she "fell". She batted her eyelashes and everything, but Ryan was already walking back to his position. He glanced back at me, and must have caught my sour expression.

"I hope you didn't want to stop any goals today," he joked. I had the sense enough to laugh, and this time it was just right. I really was getting the hang of it.

We got released a few minutes early to change, and Ryan waited for me outside the gym. Self-conscious of my sweat, I tried to smile as I saw him, but I think I just grimaced instead.

Senora Rivero tested Ryan's Spanish in front of the class by having him try to introduce himself to us. He did a pretty good job, and Rivero seemed pleased he at least knew that much. I knew she couldn't stand all the guys who think being educated isn't cool. He was a pretty great teacher.

Unfortunately, Spanish Two was a full class. I was sandwiched between a girl that breathed too loudly and a boy that smelled faintly of B.O., so Ryan had to sit a few rows away, shoved in a corner seat. We made eye contact before I turned around to concentrate on Rivero. Spanish wasn't exactly easy to half-pay attention to.

Rivero was feeling nice today; we got out of school five minute early. As I was walking out the classroom, I paused to look for Ryan. I spotted him chatting with Cameron Fields, another football player, so I decided to head out.

Not two minutes later however, I heard my name behind me. I turned to see Ryan waving, just before he got into his car. I waved back, awkwardly, nearly tripping over nothing. As I turned the keys in my car and put it in reverse, I allowed myself a small smile. Today was a good day, and for once, I couldn't wait for school tomorrow.

I was having a great dream when my phone went off. Bleary eyed, and blind already without my glasses, I pressed the screen to my face. It was 10:30. Ryan was calling.

I pressed accept and answered groggily, "What'd ya want?"

"I called pretty late didn't I?"

"I've got a test tomorrow you know," I said sleepily.

"Would you mind helping me study for Bio after school tomorrow? I really need this test to be good if I'm ever gonna get that B."

"Yeah, I'll help. Now, goodnight, Ryan, I need my beauty sleep."

"Goodnight, Tori."

I was out in thirty seconds.

The next morning, I stumbled down the stairs to the smell of coffee. I spotted someone in a bathrobe.

"Morning, Dad. I didn't know you were up so—"

"Excuse me?"

A mess of red hair poked its head around the corner. I froze.

"Sorry, its just, you know, that's my dad's robe…"

"So you must be Vicky," the redhead said casually. She leaned a hand against the counter and gave me a really phony smile. "Your dad's a great man."

I couldn't help it. "Yeah, I'm sure he was great last night," I blurted.

She opened her mouth, shocked, then laughed in a really high, false voice. She quickly filled up a cup with coffee and hurried back toward my dad's room without so much as another glance at me.

I slumped down into my chair, not even hungry anymore. Even when I was little, I could remember waking up to a different person every few days. Of course, I was young then, and had no idea what was really going on. Now… it made me miss living with Mom. But she was busy writing books and selling houses, and had no time for a teenager. In a way, so was Dad. But I'd prefer waking up to some random lady than waking up in a boarding school. Dad was rich too, but he never sent me away. We had an understanding that Mom and I never shared; personal space. I stay out of his life, and he stays out of mine.

I decided to have an apple to go, arriving at school to an empty parking lot. The sun was barely up, and first period was still forty minutes away. I enjoyed my quiet mornings; sometimes I'd read a book, and sometimes I'd get started on the day's homework. But today, I tore into my apple and stared gloomily at the football field next to the parking lot. Most of the time, I don't mind Dad's dates, but when I don't expect them they just remind me of how backwards my family is.

Cars slowly began to fill in around me. The other kids honked and waved good mornings to each other. Finally, I headed across campus to my first hour.

With finals only a month away, everyone was cramming all the year's info into late night study sessions. Students were giving it their all one last few tests before grades closed, trying to get an A or even just pass a class.

Like Ryan. After tearing up the fields during the football season, and bringing home a state trophy, Ryan was pushing for a B average. Of course, he was smart, but with all the traveling and practices a few of his classes started to slip, including infamous Biology. The other teachers tried to give the football team some slack, on account of our team normally being below average, despite Johnny's ranting and raving, but Deines would have nothing of it. Now Ryan was tottering on a 78%, and he needed at least a B+ on this test if he ever wanted a B average for the class.

As usual, Ryan arrived fashionably ten seconds late to class. Everyone smiled and said hello and good morning to the star of the Ravenmore High Rockets. I heard a couple high fives before Ryan finally sat down next to me.

It was like he never hung up the phone.

"How does Mickey's sound?"

"How could we study in that noise?"

"Easy. I know everything; it whether or not I can remember it when you ask me a question that matters. Come on, Tori, the foods great."

"Hey, I never said no. Just bring your stuff to seventh, okay? Let's beat the after-school rush and leave straight from Spanish."

Ryan agreed. By then, Austin cleared his throat and was ready to hand out some papers. Ryan turned around and tried to steal Johnny's pencil without him noticing, and I focused in on my work. Old habits die hard, I guess. Same old boys, same old Tori.

Ryan and I booked it out of Spanish, managing to get to Mickey's and grab the best table, way in the back bordered by two booths. Mickey's was a high school favorite. Like something out of a storybook, the place was all decked out in 50s style looks and food. The forty-year-old speakers blared out Elvis hits all day, and the waitresses wore poodle skirts. Honestly, it was probably the corniest place on earth, but the food was terrific and the school kinda embraced the restaurant as an unofficial cafeteria.

Naturally, I wanted to hit the books immediately, but good old Ryan refused to recite a single fact until he had a burger and coke in front of him. I hated burgers, so I ordered a hot dog and chocolate shake.

The TV was on, and we couldn't help but notice the headline: Mutant Attacks, Robs Department Store. Seemed like every day one of them was holding a bank hostage or accidently exploding. I didn't mind mutants much; I'd only met a few, and all they seemed was scared, alone. I know a lot of people that hated having "walking time bombs" like those "freaks" lose on the streets, but I'd bet only a handful of the million or so mutants in the US were actually dangerous.

"Think that's what really happened?" Ryan said quietly. I glanced back at the screen. The news people were interviewing the victim.

I nodded sadly. "The guy probably thought that mutant was an easy target, and when it didn't work out, he called it an attack."

The victim looked rough, probably homeless, and was clearly anti-mutant. We couldn't hear him, but he kept waving his arms and pretending to choke an invisible person.

"I hope he got away."

I glanced at Ryan. He hated how people automatically assumed the worst of mutants. While I did think they should at least wear a warning or something, I agreed people overreacted to anything mutants did.

As soon as the waitress had her back turned, I zeroed in on him.

"What's the outer membrane of a cell composed of?"

He literally stretched his arms out, cracked his knuckles, and rested them on the back of his neck. "Phospholipid bilayer," he said easily.

I raised an eyebrow and put my fingers together, drumming them like some old-fashioned villain. "Good, good. What is programmed cell death?"

"Apoptosis."

I kept the charade up until our food arrived. Honestly, I was pretty hungry, and as soon as the waitress turned her back I dove right in. The food here never disappoints.

"How can you think of all this off the top of your head?"

"What?" I was busy coating my French fry in the perfect amount of ketchup.

"You're a human dictionary. How come?"

I chewed my fry slowly. "I guess I just have a lot of time on my hands," I said.

"Not much of the social type, are you?"

"Honestly, I haven't spent this much time away from school or home since… well, ever. I wasn't really the social butterfly when I was younger."

He gave me a look, as if to say, go on.

So I did. "My parents kinda traded me back and forth every year until high school. I never got a chance to develop any friendships. So, I was bored and had nothing to do, so I decided to study… for everything. At least grades moved with me, no matter where my parents stuck me."

Ryan didn't say anything. I could feel the awkwardness. He didn't want to hear my life's story; why did I even say all that stuff?

"Did I ever tell you about my parents?"

Of course he had… right? "I… I never really thought to ask," I said quietly.

He nodded all-knowingly. " I never knew my dad. How stereotypical, right? I guess he was always working late, or sneaking out in the middle of the night. To work. Yeah right. Well, he started staying away for days, then weeks, then… forever."

"Jeez."

Yeah. My biggest crush just tells me about his long-lost father, and all I say is jeez. Sometimes, my mouth moves before I think. I searched for something more intelligent to say.

"At least you still got your mom around."

I was supposed to say it all kindly and reassuring, but I couldn't help but think I sounded jealous and petty. Then Ryan locked eyes with me.

"She died last year."

That was it. He lifted his burger up to his mouth. Just left the story there, with the greatest cliffhanger. Naturally, I wanted to know the how, the why, and who's he living with now, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut this time. Then, a revelation.

"That's why you moved."

I kinda blurted it out, with no context whatsoever, so I got a raised eyebrow from Ryan. I cleared my throat a little and talked to my French fries, too nervous to look up. "I mean, your godparents must live here, and that's why you transferred."

I didn't dare look up. Awkwardly swirling a fry in my ketchup, I waited for Ryan to get up and storm off, or something.

He just sighed. "They don't even have kids. Heck, Dan's only five years older than me."

"Dan?" There I go again, just blurting it out.

"Dan and Stacy. Dan's my mom's brother."

"Oh."

We were silent again. I happen to glance over at my books. "So, uh, maybe a few more questions?"

"You're pretty nosy today."

I blinked a few times and finally forced myself to look up. Ryan was staring at the table, arms folded. "I meant… uh, you know, the Biology test…" Man, I literally felt like dying at that moment. Ryan rarely snapped, and never at me. I felt miserable.

"I'll do fine. I don't need your help anymore."

That was about all I could take. I could barely converse with someone, and now, I managed to tick off my only friend. My vision blurred a little. I blinked a bunch; there was no way I was going to cry over a stupid embarrassment like this. Quietly, I slid my books off the table, pressing them to my chest. Silently, I prayed the waitress would come around to our table soon.

My wish was granted. She sauntered up to our table, all smiles. She didn't even say a word. I stood up, slammed five dollars on the table, hugged my books and tried not to stumble on my way out the door. And I nearly did. I almost tripped over nothing. Man, was I such an idiot.

I could barely see where I was going, the tears were so bad. Jeez, I was angry with myself. I cry way too easily at the stupidest things. A main characters dies in the picture of the year? No problem. But I answer a question wrong in class and the there's no way to turn off the waterworks.

I swear I was imagining it, but I heard someone call my name. Ignored, because the only person who'd be calling my name right now was the only guy in the world I could genuinely say I loved. And believe me, I was in no mood to try and talk to him.

But I was never the athlete in school. That was all Ryan's department, and soon enough, I heard a pair of footsteps next to me. I still didn't look up.

"I didn't mean to snap like that," Ryan said.

Of you did, I thought. I was being nosy, you said it yourself. I'm no great conversationalist anyway, so why be surprised I screwed this up. For some reason, I suddenly became aware of the three pimples on my face. Immediately, a fresh flood of tears ran down my face. Just great. I was so frustrated, I stumbled a little. Over nothing, as usual. God, why was I so stupid?

"You okay?"

He said it so perfect. He could make a stumble turn into the coolest new move, I was positive of that. Impulsively, I tried to wipe away some of the tears.

"Are you crying?"

"No!" I tried to speed up, but all I did was hit my toe painfully against the sidewalk.

"Your crying, Tori."

"No! No I'm not. I'm just…" I couldn't say anything. My mouth felt dry, and my tongue felt like a useless lump of flesh. My brain just shut off. I ended up grunting in exasperation.

Ryan grabbed my arm. I wouldn't make him force me to halt, so I just stopped and sort of half-turned toward him. I zeroed in on the concrete, noticing Ryan's red shoes out of the corner of my eye.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean anything toward you, okay? I just get frustrated with Dan and Stacy that's all."

I just moaned in response. I must have looked terrible. Those damn three pimples. "Don't you worry," I said sarcastically, "I know all about frustration with the guardians. Just leave me alone."

I was really angry for some reason. I guess I didn't like how Ryan thought this was his fault. I wish he would just realize it was always my fault, never anyone else's.

I started to walk again, but Ryan didn't leave. He didn't say anything, just walked a step behind me. I felt better when he did that. I mean, I wouldn't have to try and explain, but I wasn't losing him or anything.

I walked all the way home, not realizing my car was at school until I stopped un front my mailbox. I glanced at Ryan, standing a few feet away. He had this wounded, apologetic look on his face, and immediately the anger returned.

"Just stop blaming yourself! Gosh!" And I turned to walk up my driveway.

Only, I never even took a step. One moment, I was trying to hold back tears, and the next, there was a brilliant flash of white. Immediately, I turned to Ryan.

He was there, holding me, hugging me, protecting me, when the world exploded.