Okay, so I know I said I was gone, but I'm not (though I believed I was). I ended up finding time in the day to put something together, and then I remembered about FanFiction and even read my old stories (some of which I might redo). I plan on making this a multi-chaptered story—if I can find the time—so I'm going to try to make a comeback! I have plenty of ideas, so enjoy this one!

Initially, the only reason they knew each other was because they lived in the same building.

She lived on the first floor, near the elevators and stairs at the back of the building, while he lived on the third floor, at the front of the building. They would leave out for school at the same time, which made communication between them impossible, as she would always be ahead of him.

Until she overslept one day. And he noticed that her key was still on the key hook by the front door.

Though he hadn't spoken to her before, he found himself interested in her. What drove her to waking up as early as he did, especially if they arrived at school about two hours before it started? He left early because he had an obligation to the Student Government Association (SGA) as their president, among other things. But he didn't know why she chose to leave early. That curiosity alone led him to knock on her door that morning.

She answered the door after the seventh knock. Her eyes had bags under them, her hair was wild, and she was still dressed in her pajamas. Despite her unkempt appearance, he couldn't help but notice how attractive she was. She had medium-length auburn hair, more brown than red, that brought out her golden brown eyes. Her fair skin showed that she was of some European descent, and she was slightly taller than most females he knew as the top of her head came to his cheeks. With her being in a tank top and some shorts, he saw how developed her body was, as she had defined curves and her breasts were of average size compared to her body. But he didn't let his eyes linger on her body, for that would give her the wrong impression of him.

"Hello?" she greeted, her voice sounding groggy.

He froze. It was apparent that she didn't realize it was a school day, or that she had the possibility of making it to school late. Knowing that, he was unsure of what to say to her. "Um... School starts in about an hour and a half. I just thought that you would want to know."

She gave him the reaction he expected; she was awake now and she had wide eyes full of shock. Without thinking, she rushed into her apartment and scrambled to get ready for school. She took a quick, ten-minute shower, brushed her teeth and ran into her room. She chose her outfit for school—a purple tank top with a short sleeved cropped black cardigan, dark grey skinny jeans, and purple high-top shoes—and then put her hair into a neat bun. She applied a little eyeliner, making sure to give herself a slightly noticeable wing. Before leaving, she grabbed her backpack and her purse. This took about half an hour total.

To her surprise, the young man was still waiting for her. Now fully awake and looking at him more closely, she noticed how handsome he was. He had his black hair organized into a semi-spiky hairstyle, and she was sure his hair would cover his eyes if he let it down. However, she was thankful he didn't because she found herself interested in his gray eyes and how the darker tone of his skin brought them out more. Another thing that caught her eye was his pronounced cheekbones. And his muscular body. His outfit—a short sleeved black t-shirt, tan cargo shorts, and black athletic shoes—did little to hide the muscles on his body, which led her to believe that he was a football player or a wrestler.

After she finished her analysis of him, she cleared her throat. "We should be on our way to school now."

"Agreed."

They walked together to the front door and grabbed their keys. He held the door open for her as she walked through it, and he followed behind her. They walked together in silence as they took their everyday route to school: across the bridge, through the neighborhood park, into the city and past the library. She was perfectly content with the silence, as it helped her collect her thoughts, but he found it to be a little awkward. He had the urge to speak to her, even if it was just a pointless conversation.

"So, why do you wake up so early?" he asked her.

She glanced over to him with a confused look on her face, as if she couldn't believe he spoke. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, at this rate, we'll make it to school forty-five minutes before breakfast starts. Why is getting to school so early important to you? Couldn't your mother or father just drive you to school?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Her response was almost immediate.

He frowned. She was a little tougher than most of the females he knew, and a lot more direct and forward. He would have to give her an explanation before she gave hers, he was sure of it, so he decided to go along with it.

"I like to get to school early to make sure everything for the SGA is doing fine. It takes about an hour, give or take, to regulate and plan everything, but I still like to be with my friends during breakfast. To avoid the problem of choosing between the two, I wake up earlier than necessary to fit in both things."

She thought about his answer before responding. "So you're the president of the SGA? There must be a lot of responsibility acquired with having that title. I would've joined the Student Government Association, but I had already gotten too involved with the Speech and Debate Team."

She paused, and he thought she was going to completely avoid the main topic of discussion. "But to answer your questions, I like to get to school early because there's less traffic early in the morning. I prefer to walk to school—there are many reasons for that, but mostly it's because public buses are highly unreliable. Seeing as how you're walking with me now, and the fact that you've implied that you leave out as early as I do, I assume you're familiar with the path to school. This path would be crowded with cars and people if I left out around a decent time every morning, which would then cause for me to miss breakfast everyday. And as for my parents, I don't really know my father, but my mother works early in the morning. She's usually leaving out as I'm waking up, so getting a ride from her is out of the question. Anything else you want to know?"

She gave him a little too much in her response—they both noticed—but he was happy that he got her to speak as much as she did. Now that she was giving him permission to ask questions, he wanted to ask about her father that she barely knew. He also wanted to ask about her involvement in the Speech and Debate Team, and about any other activities she was a part of. But he didn't want to abuse his power, so he kept it simple.

With a smirk plastered on his face, he spoke again. "I'd like to know your name. I'm Roscoe Wilson."

He stopped walking and held out his hand, implying for her to shake it. She stopped as well, glancing down to his hand before looking up at his face. And then she smiled, grabbing his hand as she spoke.

"Nixon. Alena Nixon."

Initially, the only reason they became friends was because they lived in the same building.