Simplicity for the Complex

by The newbie phan

Come into the small world of New Jersey and learn that anything really can happen! I have most of the originals, although our main characters are OC types. Erik and Ambrosia have an extremely unsettling and eventful childhood behind them. So what if they met 7 years later through highschool? What will come back to haunt them? ***DONE FOR THE TIME BEING!***

1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, so this is my first fan-fic, called "Simplicity for the Complex" and this little starting bit is going to be from the point of view of our OC character, until I put some bolding saying otherwise. This story line jus randomly hit me during a dream a few weeks back, but to my dismay I remembered that I had yet to obtain an acct., so here I am a month later writing to all of you lovely people! :) Read and review! But please, no flames, people. I'm still young and delicate. Hehehe… Thank you to those who encouraged me to write and those to come! :) Now, ON WITH THE SHOW! :)

Chapter 1

Simplicity for the Complex: The Beginning

'Okay. I can do this. Just take a deep breath, and walk up those steps.' Those wide stairs into a new overwhelming hell called *gulp* high school… One of my old friends had a big sister who would constantly rant to her parents about how she wanted to be home schooled because she hated her life within this very building. Also because of what else lies behind those big walls. And that's what I'm scared of. The mean cliques, the sassy cheerleaders, the testy jocks, the dramatic attention-holders, the moody rebels, the shady 'assassins', the strange nerds, and finally, my calling group: the theatric celebrities. But, trust me; I am no center of attention whatsoever. I'm probably the most socially camouflaged freshman this school will ever know. Or not know. But, anyways, where have my manners gone? Hi. I'm Ambrosia Pryde. (I know funny name. But you'll probably get used to it faster than I will.) But my friends call me Amy. Once, my friend called me 'Amps' because they caught me singing my heart out in the garage. And from what I understand, I am a good, but very LOUD singer. Unfortunately I haven't seen him in well over six years. So I only have 2 friends as of late. But what's sadder than that is that I lost my very best friend. My dad. I know. It's embarrassing. 'My dad's my best friend.' But I don't care. Poor Papa. I pray to him every night, in hopes that he'll send down his Angel of Music like he promised all those years ago… He just wouldn't get better…

Summer, 2006.

"You'll never catch me, Captain Robert!", "Arrrg! Me ship n' crew won't be ta' shore 'till noon! I'll just have to eat YOU 'fir lunch! Harharhar!","NO WAY!" I ran too far into the water and as Papa tripped on a rock, a wave broke right on top of him. A big wave. He got a whole throat full of the salty white-water. Then again, and again until the swells finally calmed down. He could finally pick himself up on wobbly knees that were now sandblasted by the power in which the water chucked the little sea particles at my poor father. I swam over and helped him to the sugar-sand dunes best I could. It seems that he could cough up a full bath tub of salty, beach water. Until finally, he stopped hacking up fluids. But that's when the real trouble came to play. He was wheezing and groaning and was literally vibrating within his chest due to his now water logged, flooded lungs. I ran to the first person I could find. Which seemed like a mile long run since it was so early in the day. But I finally got to someone. A short, fat man with jet black hair, slicked back to his neck. He was a man that either got so mad so often that his now tomato red skin never faded back to a natural white, or he was severely sun-burned. I was lead to believe the former, for it seems that his temper never died down either. "What do you want twirp?!" Naturally, I was offended. But, instead of getting angry, I cut to the chase. "Tough shiz kid. Now buzz off!" "But sir-", I never got to finish, because I was cut off by a young boy about my age wearing what could only be a mask. Curiosity struck but I didn't have enough time to ask. "What's the problem, mademoiselle?" His voice was barely audible, but his voice was very beautiful. And French. "Papa needs help! Please, sir, help me out!" The boy then dashed other to me and grabbed my arm with a steel hold and picked me up onto his back. And with that, he sprinted over to where my father was. He slung me off his shoulders with a most gentle but swift movement and immediately fell to his knees and said, "He still has water in his lungs! Call a doctor fast!" and so I bolted over to our giant pile of 'necessary beach gear' and desperately rummaged through it to find dad's phone. "911's his best chance right?!" I all but screeched over the sandy ridge. "Correct, miss, but call fast! I think he's coming down with a case of pneumonia!" 'Geez this kid is smart for his age…' But I didn't pay much attention to that for our lack of time until Dad was really sick. Pneumonia? Oh great. Just the icing on the cake, and it's a very big cake, might I add. So I fumble with the phone until the receptionist is on the line. "This is 911 what is your emergency?" "MY DAD ALMOST DROWNED AND HE'S WHEEZING AND COUGHING SOMETHING AWFUL! MY FRIEND SAYS IT MIGHT BE PNEUMONIA! PLEASE HELP! WE'RE AT THE BEACH AT CAPE MAY ON THE WEST SIDE! PLEASE SEND AN AMBULANCE, QUICK!" I was almost sure that I had just about deafened her with my yelling, until, "Okay dear, now just stay calm and the ambulance will be there in just a moment. Do you want me to keep on the line until they're with you?" "No, I gotta see what's going on with my Papa but thank you!" "Okay, miss. Just remember to stay calm. Can you do that for me?" I take as deep a breath as I can and I finally, after what seemed like ages, exhaled. "Yes. Yes I can. Thank you so much." And with that, I hung up. I all but sand-skied down the slope, which beheld the sight of the little boy and my dad. "What's he doing? Will he be okay? Will an ambulance be able to take care of this? Is the CPR working okay? Will this-" My rapid-fire interrogation of my father's current state to the boy was cut short by the mean man at the other end of the beach. "ERIIIIIIK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET BACK TO OUR STUFF BEFORE I HAVE TO BEAT YOU AGAIN! GET AWAY FROM THIS LITTLE SCAMP OR ELSE I'LL-" It was my turn to cut him off. "HEY! YOU CANT TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT! HE'S TRYING TO HELP ME AND PAPA AND YOU'RE JUST SLOWING US DOWN! WHY WOULD EVER BEAT YOUR SON ANYWAYS, YOU BIG STUPID JERK?!" Oh boy. Now I went and did it. "YOU LITTLE WITCH! YOU CANT TALK TO ME LIKE THAT OR ELSE YOU'LL GET YOURSELF A BEATING, YOU HEAR ME, YOU IMP!?" And he did all this while clamping his poor boy's mouth shut and probably scarring him for life with the intense constriction his other hand was putting on the kid's arm. So I backed down but shot him a look that sent icicles down his spine even if it was from a little 7 year-old. For some reason I felt that if I fought him any longer, the boy would be punished for it. I could see it in his eyes. I didn't care if I was going to get smacked around. All I felt was a strange feeling of protectiveness and compassion for this kid. I then turned part of my attention to the blaring sirens of the bright red, white, and blacks that I saw from the ambulances and police cars that sent streaks across the road they were going so fast. I looked back at the man and his ill-fated son and inwardly grinned. 'I'm gonna bust this guy for beating this boy and probably getting drunk.' For I could smell the stench of beer emanating form this brute of a father. I was picturing myself ramming my head into his giant bulging stomach but, alas, he was saved by the sirens… I could then see the fake smile plastered on his face from the disadvantage of the police and paramedics being present. He then let his hands fall to his sides. One hand interlocked with his squirming kid's. I could tell that even this 'loving' gesture was inflicting pain on the young man's hand. I could tell that he still kept a steel fist around the boy's slender fingers. I speeked ovr my shoulder at the chaos behind me and him another look over my shoulder, and after some struggling, I finally had the boy out of the reach of that scumbag. One last look that said, 'If you move an inch I'll call you out to the fuzz.' Even though, I was going to anyways. I kept the boy's fingers laced with mine in a soft embrace. He then gave me the most heartbreaking, saddened, grateful, teary, puppy dog eyes that I've ever seen and I gave him a warm, encouraging smile. "You'll be okay. I promise." I said in a low whisper. "No. I can never be okay. Beasts don't deserve to be okay." Wait what? Beasts don't deserve to be okay? Huh? "Please, let me help me help you. You're not a beast." And so before he had a chance to protest, I dragged him over to the center of the commotion. I saw my dad on a stretcher with a mask over his nose. He looked like he was only half conscious of what was going on. I was so worried for him. But they wouldn't let me come any closer to the truck until they loaded all the equipment back in. So for thetime being, I shouted my words of love and encouragement to him, for I knew he would soon be completely out of it.. Until an officer came up to us. 'Ahah! Just who I wanted to see…' I thought to myself. "Miss, is he your only parent?" Oh no. Something bad's going to happen. But he kept his stony stare locked on my sheepish little peeks. "Umm, ye-yes, s-sir…", "No need to be nervous. Nothing bad is going to happen to you two." Wait, us two? YES! Just the opportunity I was waiting for! "Sir, my friend here, dare I say, has a father , who has not even the basic traits of a supportive parent. He shouted at us threatening that if his son didn't get to the other side of the beach where they were earlier, that we were both going to get beatings! But it seemed like, (I had to pause to remember what his name was…)Erik was going to get one anyways. But all Erik was doing was answering my call for help! His dad blew me off after I said that my father could be in severe danger! If it weren't for Erik, Dad would probably be even worseoff than he is now! And when he yelled at us, I could smell a strong smell, that was really smelly and bad. I think he's drunk! Is there anything you can do to help us?" But, to my surprise he was already sprinting over to the man. The monster. "Sir, put your hands behind your head! You are under arrest for abusive parenting and the obtaining of alcohol. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in trial." I laughed inwardly at the scene playing out before us. The butthead was gonna get it. I guess Erik was happy too. Because he gave me those eyes again. Those beautiful, sad, golden-black eyes. Wait, what? Beautiful? Oh god. My first crush. NO… WAY… But yes, those enchanting orbs had me completely under their spell. Until, "DON'T THINK YOURE GOING TO GET AWAY WITH THIS YOU LITTLE…!" Wow. He would sink as low as to cuss at a child. How sad. I just gave him a look, like, 'You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this.' And I was. Very much. I guess Erik was, too. Because when I turned around he still had that innocent yet tormented, bewildered grateful emotion still in his eyes. But now instead of the open mouth filled with unspoken words of thanks, he had a bit of a half smile playing his lips. Though I could tell he was much happier than he let on. So once the policeman drove off with the newly deemed convict, the ambulance gave us a signal for us to all pile onto the gleaming white van. Erik and I split the chair next to Papa's stretcher, although I think Erik was claustrophobic or something because he kept trying to shrink away from all of us so that he almost fell to the floor of the car. Either that or he was, like, scared of people or something. I don't know. But when I tried to talk to him, he would stutter a lot and I would always try to keep away from the father subject, but he kept referring to himself as the 'monster' that his dad took him for. I learned very little about the boy that day, but I basically dumped my heart and soul into my mouth and just let it rip. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd been on brain overload from the first five minutes. But, no. He kept his intent gaze set on my face and always looked me in the eyes. Like he was peering in to my soul. He always dropped me a line to let me know that he was listening and comprehending every word that I said. And I was very grateful for finding this awesome new friend. But when I finally ended my extensive spiel, and asked about him, he'd say something like, "You don't want to know about Erik.", Or, "No wait tell me more about that one time…" Like he hated the attention being turned to him. And he almost always talked in the third-person. I tried to get him to communicate with me as much as possible, but was lacking in success on the matter. Fortunately I did learn that he was only ½ a year older than I was, and that he loved architecture and music and books. However, I had to judge all of this information off of his facial expressions (or what I could see of them, for he wore that blasted mask) or if his eyes changed emotions. When I mentioned that I loved to play the guitar, his eyes would light up or he would turn his head so it was facing me with a look of eagerness. I got a Gibson Les Paul for my sixth birthday. It was my cousin's from her will. She died of cancer a year or two before, but Papa never told me until I was old enough to take on such a responsibility. Since I was 4 I played my neighbor's acoustic guitar at parties and family get-togethers. But when I turned 6 I finally had my dream-come-true under a mountain of other gifts. That guitar was, and still is, my most prized possession. "It's cherry red that fades out to a nice golden-bronze color on the rims." I told him. I could tell that he was totally entranced in my lecture. His eyes then flashed something that might have been…admiration? Like he wished he could be with me whenever I played guitar. Because he obviously loves music. I could tell that he was a very talented singer as well. His voice, though scarcely used in conversation, was a deep and luxurious, smooth voice. For a 7 year old. But still, his voice was like magic… I heard a groan from the stretcher. I turned my head around fast as lightning to see Dad stirring. He was still out of consciousness. And the paramedic guy watching over him was listening to his iPod, so he couldn't hear us. "You don't talk much, do you, Erik?", "How do you know my name? Never say my name or you will go dumb!" He gasped. "Okay, first off, I like your name. Second, your father kept saying 'Erik, Erik, Erik' So, obviously your name is Erik. And lastly, if I went dumb, it was a very long time ago." I said, slightly exasperated. "No, I mean, you'll lose your voice forever! Don't say it, please! I want NO other misfortunes to befall you! Please!" Okay. I don't know what or how many things that guy did to this kid, but making his name sound like a death warrant was obviously one of them. "But, Erik, I like your name. And I just said it again and I'm still rambling on am I not?" I sighed yet again. "Oh no! I don't think you're rambling at all! I like it when someone talks to me with kindness. And so far, y-you're th-the f-first one to d-do that…" He said in a hushed, sheepish voice. He then slid himself off the chair and scrunched himself up against the corner of the truck. "What are you doing? What has that horrid man done to you? You deserve all the nicest things that this world has to offer." I said as I slunk down across from him on the floor. He let his arms fall from his knees down to his sides. And so I took his hand in mine and said, "Can we be best friends, Erik? Forever?" Then the confused grateful adorable eyes came back and they had me in their complete power. I gave him a hopeful, innocent, kind look in the eyes as he said, "Yes. Yes, I'd like that very much…Ohhhh, but you don't know what I am! Surely when you see my true face you'll shun me and send me away forever! WHY ME, GOD? WHY ME!", "Oh you poor thing. I think you're a great person with a beautiful voice. A voice that will make the greatest music and art when you grow up. Maybe even now… But, Erik, I don't care about your face. For it is just that. A face. I know many handsome men in very high places from TV and everything but they are complete snobs. You may have a different appearance but that doesn't mean you are the appearance. You deserve so much more than you've been given, Erik… So much more…" And at the end, I practically leapt at the boy and enclosed him in the tightest, most friendly embrace I've ever given. He was paralyzed for a second but finally returned my gesture with a feather light touch on the back. I squeezed him one more time before I pulled my slight frame off him. He was totally confused. So I had to ask. "What? Have you never been hugged before? Erik, what's wrong? Erik?" Oh my gosh! He was crying! What did I do to make him cry? I feel so bad! He then turned his head toward me with enormous, saucer-sized, red, teary , puppy eyes, and whimpered out, "That... Y-you m-m-meant that? You h-hugged me of y-your own free will? Yo meant to give m-me a hug?", "Well, yeah… Yes I did… Is that okay? I hope I didn't do anything wrong… I hate seeing you cry… Did I do something?" He then broke out into a huge boisterous fit of laughter… Wait, what? "What's so funny?" I almost pouted. "Oh nothing! In fact I am completely serious right now! Believe me!" Ooooookaay… "Then why are you laughing?", "IM SO HAPPY! TODAY IS THE BEST DAY A BOY COULD ASK FOR! WOOHOO!" He all but sang out the reason for his joy. "I GOT MY FIRST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD TODAY! YOU HEAR THAT PA?! BEST DAY EVER! YEAH!" Then he let out a new round of bellowing laughter and joyous tears. I was so happy for him! We both just made our first friend! We were so filled with happiness that we jumped up, linked arms and did a little duo happy dance. It was so much fun! Until a louder, more pained moan escaped my father's lips. Me and Erik locked eyes and unfortunately went into a complete state of stony calm. We both raced to my father's side, still hand in hand, and were worried sick for the pitiful state of the man sprawled up before us. "Papa! Papa! Are you okay? How bad do you feel? How can I help? Papa!" Another groan. "Im fine sweetheart. Are you two okay? *groan*" He managed to rasp out the gruff words. I managed to gasp out the words in response, "Yes, Papa we're alright, rest your lungs. It will help." And so I pulled the soft blanket up past the dreary man's shoulders and watched him slip into a rather restless oblivion. The rest of the long ride to the hospital was spent in intense unnerving silence. Erik and I slipped down to the floor of the van again. Only this time, Erik had his arm around my shoulders with his other hand lightly stroking my olive skinned forehead and crimped, white-blonde hair. The silence finally ended when I started quietly weeping into Erik's shoulder. He leaned in so his head was resting on top of mine and began hushing me between the lines of a lullaby that dad used to sing to me when I had a nightmare… Back when mom was around. That was the only thing I didn't let slip into my relentless babbling to Erik. Mom was gone… Forever.

As the last stanzas of the song faded into silence, I faded with it. And I fell into a dreamless oblivion in Erik's arms.

Autumn, 2006.

"Morning Papa! Are feeling any better? Are all of our prayers coming true?" 'Evidently not.' I thought to myself. He looked a sickly pale shade of grey and his hair was falling out because of all the medicine. His normally warm, happy eyes were replaced by glazed, blood-shot, unfocused eyes. I bolted to his side and took his hand in mine. "Papa? What is happening? How can I help?" Then it hit me. "Erik! Please hurry! Come upstairs into Dad's room!" He was at his knees by the bed in a matter of seconds. "Oh no…" Was all he said. I was worried now. "'Oh no" what? Erik, what's wrong with Papa?" He already had a sea of unshed tears in his eyes by the time I got to the second word. "NO! NO, NO, NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! NOOOO! WHY, GOD, WHY MUST YOU ALWAYS TAKE AWAY THE JOY IN MY LIFE! No, no, no-o-o-o-ooo!" Then my father came out of his daze and flipped his head over so he was looking Erik straight in the eyes, and said, "Erik, please do not be sad. I knew it was coming all along. Please don't cry. Please, son, please don't." (Dad took custody of Erik once he got out of the hospital so Erik was like my adoptive-brother almost. Which meant that e was also Dad's son-in-law only not through marriage.) "Papa, no. Don't go. Don't go! I'll miss you too much! You're the only real family I have other than Ambrosia! Please don't leave yet!" Erik was sobbing out each word as if it were his new mantra. What's going on? "Papa, where are you going? Can we come?" Papa turned his head to face me. He then said in a very grim tone, "No, my darlings, you cannot come with me, I'm afraid…" He was getting colder by the second. "Papa, where are you going?" He then sighed and said, "I'm going to see your mommy, Ambrosia." He only called me by my actual name when he was serious. He was so stony and serious, that he could be a statue of a god. "But, Mommy is gone dad, remember?" He slowly closed his eyes, nodded, and said in a little more pleasant voice, "Yes I know, Amy. When I'm in heaven I will send you the Angel of Music. I promise…" And then his hand went limp. And he died with his little half smile on his dead, rough, grey lips. "NO PAPA, NO! DON'T LEAVE! NOOOOOOO!" Erik cried out. Then, it hit me. Daddy was…dead! Oh my god, dad was dead! And then I sobbed into my shirt sleeve and waddled over to Erik on my knees. I sat on my heels and leant over to Erik and wrapped my arms around his shoulders and wept into his neck. He did the same. We cried into each other like a real brother and sister would. And finally, as I tried to calm myself down, I started singing the same lullaby from the ambulance. Only this time it was to calm both of us down.

"Coney isle, glistening and glimmering

Rising bright, drenched in light

See it smile, beckoning and shimmering

All a-gleam, like a dream. Every fantasy set free…"

And so we sang in unison until we had cried all the tears we could rise to our cheeks, and all that was left was tear tracks and depressing emotions merging into one horrible raging storm in our hearts. Then we fell asleep, exhausted from the emotional battle we just fought. We slipped into a much needed nap, our hands locked together like there were emotional handcuffs that our hearts placed on us to calm its pace. I loved it when we held hands. It was just one of those adorable 1st grade crush type things. Even if he was kind of like my big brother. Even so, I didn't care. I loved my best friend. In an adorable way, that is…But now,… Hmmm…

Present day.

Which takes me back to here and now. This is the first time I'm going back into performing in public in 7 or 8 years. That's a long time to be off the stage and be expected to perform just as well as you did years ago. I don't know. I guess I'm just overreacting. I was always told that I was a natural performer… Wait… 'Who's that guy?' He seemed to be attempting to hide from all the commotion in the hallway. He had a snowy white dress-shirt, with a black vest, a black bow tie, black slacks, and shiny dress shoes… Huh? Even if he does look like he could be Dracula with his dark, slicked back hair and his old European attire, I couldn't help but find it attractive… Wait, attractive? Oh boy. Another crush coming on, I can tell. "Hey, who are you checkin' out?" I blushed a furious shade of crimson at Corry's remark. All the way down to my neck was a red burning blush, but told her off on her comment. "Hey, you're staring at a different guy every other week, so don't get all creepy with me about one guy since-" She cut me off with her slightly whiny voice saying, "Yeah, yeah, I know. That Erik kid right? The Beach Boy?", "Not so loud! He might hear you!" I whispered in a low hiss. Oh no. I knew it. He did hear us. The congestion had died down a lot so there were only, like, five other people in the hallway other than us three. Just when I got Corry to shut her big mouth, Mr. Mystery-stud came waltzing over to where we were standing and said, "Hello, were you talking about me? You know, it's very rude to whisper in public, especially when the person you're whispering about can hear everything you're saying…Hello?" I must have dazed off because the next thing I knew, I was staring straight into the eyes of a very cross… MASK?! Oh my god! IT's the same half mask that Erik had! I gotta ask… "I'm sorry, but is your name, by any chance, Erik?" He paused. I knew it was him. The mask, the easy-to-get-lost-in eyes, the same bewildered look. I just had to make sure…"Yes. How did you-" I cut him off with an overly joyous hug and was literally squealing at the top of my lungs. I knew it! But I was swiftly pushed away by two extremely built arms. "Who are you?!" He all but growled at me. "Don't you remember, Erik? I'm Ambrosia Pryde!" I asked in the most innocently confused voice that I've ever non-intentionally used. Wow. I didn't know I could be that sweet anymore. My naïveté was washed away when my father and brother were. He was lost to me when he went out to go get something outside and I haven't heard from him since. "What?..." He replied breathlessly. He had that confused puppy look again. I loved that face so much… "Yeah, It's me. Amy. Amps? Don't you remember? I'm the girl who was at the beach in 2006… Cape May? I saved you from your bastard father!" I was nervous now. What if he didn't remember me? What if he took it as just a small period in his life and brushed it off to the side as nothing? "Oh my god… Amps! It is you!" I blushed a deep pink color and nodded sheepishly. (Yes, he was the one who caught me in one of my 'garage concerts') And then I was pulled into the world's tightest embrace. It was so strong that I could literally feel his chest under his shirt… He was totally buffed up! But then he immediately shied away from me like he did when I had hugged him in the ambulance. Like the little boy that I knew all those years ago. "What? I can't have a hug from my best friend without being scared of me?" I teased and playfully punched him in the arm. "You probably don't want me around anymore. That was so long ago, I'm sure that you'd turn me down from moving on since our childhood… Wouldn't you…?", I felt so bad for him. Even after about 3 years together as the greatest friends that ever lived, I still couldn't get it through his head that rejection is not the only thing that this world will ever offer to him. "Of course I wouldn't turn you down! Are you crazy? I've been looking for you for years! You're my best friend. You always will be. No matter what…" And then I wrapped my arms around his torso in a gentle hug. I finished off my devotions in a hushed voice. He slowly let his hands fall onto the small of my back and my head, which was buried deep into his chest. He replied in sheepish innocence, "You, You really mean that?" Maybe even more than a friend? Hmmm… "Of course I do. That wouldn't change even if the world came to an end. No way am I ever going to let you go. Ever." And when I looked up, he had tears in his eyes. And I swear on everything that is holy I completely fell for him right then and there. Deep down I had a little sprouting rose. A deep red rose. A rose that represented love. And for some reason I had the urge to kiss him. Just a quick friendly peck on the cheek is all. So, I did. I got up on my toes and before he even had a chance to protest, he had my lips probably scaring the daylights out of him. Again, on the cheek, people. On the cheek. Even though I wonder what it would be like to just… Oh no. I knew this was going to drive me crazy from the second I saw him. Once I pulled back down after a split-second, I looked him in the eyes and said, "Now, best friend, I'd hate to delay you in getting to your first class, so I'm going to have to let you go so you don't get in extreme trouble. He was so adorable. His eyes were as big as saucers with an open mouth filled with unsaid words. So I gave his hand one last squeeze, and winked at him. And as I left the hallway, I called back to him over my shoulder and said, "See you at lunch, Erik. Have a good class!" And with that, I swept my lovesick self out the door. And when I looked back over my back pack, he was still frozen there in the middle of the hallway touching his cheek where I pecked him. I sighed inwardly. 'I am in SO much trouble now…'

A/N: And that's the beginning of my new story! I'm sorry if it's not up to par with your expectations and if it is, I am overjoyed! I'm in a rough stage right now. You know, this being my first and all. But please tell me what you think! If I need improvements, all I can do is get better! ;) I hope you enjoyed this first section and I believe that I will be updating one or two times a week, but if not I sincerely apologize! ;) Thank you for reading! Again, I beg you to please review/PM me! ;) Until next time!

-your humble servant,

TNP (previously known as 'Angel's wings' :))