I started reading when I was young; it became a defense mechanism for me. I had lost both of my parents in a car crash when I was about ten and had floated through various foster homes since then. Opening a book was a good way to escape. The world and all traces of life stopped, either that or it seemed to float around me, leaving me in a timeless standstill. I could be anywhere I wanted, could be whoever I wanted, from a heroine in the middle of a war, to a princess locked in a faraway castle. The person to get me started in reading was my first foster brother, Kevin. He was five years older than me, but he was the only other kid in the house to acknowledge my presence in a positive way. He took on the role of an older brother, lending me books, teaching me his favorite quotes, and reading me to sleep most nights when our foster parents would argue so loudly sleep seemed impossible. I was devastated when he had gotten adopted after only my sixth month there, but was happy he'd finally be able to have the family he'd always wanted. He left all of his books to me and told me I'd have nothing to worry about. He said I'd get adopted soon enough, but in the meantime, to stick with books.

"You're a good kid, Lexi; you'll find somewhere to belong soon enough. Until then, stick it out, everything will be fine, and if anything gets bad, pick up a book and let yourself slip into another world."

I let myself cry for him that night, something I hadn't done in a long time as a result of getting teased by the other children. I missed him, but no one in the house even seemed to notice. The next year was so hard, I took up his space at the dinner table, went to sleep in his bed, and soon there was another adoption, another kid going to live a better, happier life. All the while, I read. First, I read the books he gave me, most of them were his old school books. Kevin really loved reading, but even he would groan and complain about having to read some of the classics. Not me, I'd read anything and everything. Soon, I had even convinced my foster parents to take me to the library every other week, and I had my own library card. I didn't care if I was reading Charles Dickens' novels or books found in the children's section. After time, I moved to a different foster home, which was sad, but my original foster parents couldn't take the stress. Their marriage was hanging on by a string and they knew it wasn't a good environment for the rest of us to be in.

I moved like this several times, meeting and living with new people, leaving them eventually. It was a tough life lesson, but I learned from the start that no one sticks around for long. I eventually stopped talking to the people I lived with, even the people I went to school with, there was no point. In another month, or maybe if I was lucky, a couple years, I'd move on and someone new would promise to take care of me. The only things there for me consistently when I needed them were books.

When I finally reached high school, after having been in four or five different homes since my parents' accident, I was branded a loser, a loner, someone that wasn't even worth the time of day to pick on anymore. I was fine with that, I only cared about my books, my studies, and I prayed that by the time I reached eighteen, I would have a full ride to a college of my choice and could start to live life the way I'd like to. I could settle down, have a career, maybe even make some friends or, highly unlikely in my mind, a boyfriend.

It was the start of my senior year that I started to feel more stable in my surroundings. I had been with the same family for over 3 years now, had gone to the same school, and had the same routine. I lived with Sally and Patrick, a lovely couple, with four foster siblings: John, Tom, Kate, and Brad. They were all several years younger than me, so I had more responsibility at home, which I enjoyed. I liked the feel of taking my life into my own hands for once, and Sally treated me as an equal, I never felt looked down on. It was the best home I had been in and I was even starting to feel like I fit in.

It was a Monday afternoon in September that changed that. I knew immediately something was wrong, knew I needed to escape. I knew life was never going to be the same for me.

I unlocked the door to my house with the key Patrick had gifted me a little over three years ago. My house, it was a funny thought, but a welcomed one. I walked straight into the kitchen, getting ready to make some hot chocolate. It may have been September, but Maine was cold all year, with a brief warming stint in June until mid-August. The house was oddly quiet, reminding me of the calm before a storm.

"Sally?" I called out. No reply.

I put down the mug I had been pulling out of a cabinet and silently moved to my room. I had a feeling something was off. I made it to my room, and it looked untouched, I glanced around. Even the new library books I had checked out the day before were sitting neatly stacked on my desk. Moving on, I thought to myself.

I made my way to John and Tom's room next, the two were twins just under two years of age, and they could be quite a handful at times. I did a double take as soon as I had reached their room. At first glance, it looked as it would on any given day, but looking deeper there was more. The closet, half opened in the back of the room, was empty; the changing table next to the cribs was bare. I ran to the next room, which was shared by Kate and Brad. They were around the same age; both in junior high, but Sally had talked Patrick into putting up a wall divider in the middle of the room, to give them their privacy. Kate's side I saw first, she had a lonely sweater in the corner, but other than that, her usually messy room was unusually tidy. Pulling open Brad's closet gave me the same evidence I had been unwilling to accept. There was no one here, and almost no trace of where they'd gone. My breathing had slowed, and I couldn't believe this. It had to be a bad dream. I darted to Sally and Patrick's room, and it was identical to the other rooms. There was a bed, dressers, but no sign of life. No personal objects, no clothes, nothing that tied them here. I let out a cry and stormed to my room. There were no signs of foul play, there wasn't a note anywhere, and the kitchen was completely stocked. I grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket and looked up the number for the police station. I didn't think it was a time for 911. They left, and the police could handle it. They answered on the third ring and I was told to hold. By the time the operator got back to me I was near tears. Left again, big surprise, I thought to myself. Just as I was comfortable, something changed. I told the police everything I knew, and hung up.

After walking back to my room, I snatched a library book off of my desk, and retreated to my bed. Hush, Hush the cover read. At that point I didn't care what book it was, I just wanted to leave reality and get caught up in someone else's life. I made it halfway through the first chapter, and somehow reading about Nora Grey's life made me feel just a teeny bit better. The police said they were going to be twenty minutes when I had called, so I figured I had a good ten to fifteen minutes until they arrived. As much as I loved reading, I shut my eyes. There isn't much I remember about my parents, but I do remember them telling me anytime I felt scared to just close my eyes, and it would shut the world out. I hadn't used their advice in a long time, but it felt appropriate in the moment. Where could my foster family have gone? My eyes stayed closed for a while, and soon I felt a strange calm. I floated between conscious and unconscious, all the while waiting for police sirens or knocks on the door. They never came, and the next thing I knew, I was in a deep sleep. I don't remember much about those minutes before falling asleep, but I do remember thinking, no praying, I wish my life was like a book, any book, even this book!

I woke up in a heap. It took several minutes for reality to hit me as I refused to open my eyes. I didn't want to go back, not yet. I was having a lovely dream about my parents. My biological parents, with me, hunched over me, with a look of love and worry on their face. My mom stroked my cheek tenderly and my dad held my right hand, a tear rolling down his face. I couldn't remember much about the dream, like where, when, or why we had been there, but it was nice. I felt cared for and appreciated. I groaned as my head started to throb, I was also feeling cold. I hope I'm not getting sick, I thought, that would be a cherry on the cake for today. I finally opened my eyes expecting to see policemen standing around me, or even my foster family jumping out and saying "Surprise! We got you!", but I didn't. I saw something else entirely. I surveyed the room, I've never seen this before, I thought. It was a girl's room, neat and tidy, with school books on the desk. It reminded me of my room, but something was off. A bulletin board with pictures attached hung off to the side near an open window in the room. I got off the bed slowly as my head was starting to hurt worse. I gasped in shock as I approached a certain photo; it was of another girl and her friend. One was average height, but very pretty with red hair, and the other was just as pretty with a full figure, long legs, and her hair was pulled up high. Gradually, the picture began to transform before my very eyes. The girl with the full figure stayed the same, but the girl whose arm was around her was different. She was me. I didn't know how it was possible and I didn't know what to think, other than I had never seen that girl before in my life. It couldn't be me, and it wasn't before… I took a step back and took another look around the room.

"The desk," I said aloud, "it should have something with a name on it." I started shuffling through the books when I found what I was looking for. A paper from what looked to be a biology class. The date in the corner said April though, and it was not my handwriting. The handwriting was neat and feminine, the complete opposite as I happened to have. If it is April, I thought, that would explain the chill. At the top of the paper in black ink, was a sign something was very wrong. At first I didn't realize where I had known the name when it hit me. Slowly, just as the picture had, the name changed to read "Lexi Thomas". I gulped down a bit of bile that had crept up my throat. Before the name changed it belonged to a familiar person. Character actually. The name on the paper had read "Nora Grey."

I shrieked, and I wasn't a person who usually vocalized my emotions. What was going on? Was I turning into her, no, she was turning into me. All of the evidence she had been here before was gone. Everything pointed back to me now. As if I had just won the role of the heroine in this novel. But it wasn't a novel; it was my life, wasn't it?

I pulled out my phone from my pocket. It looked the same, but after inspecting the contacts I realized I didn't know anyone. I recognized some names from when I had started reading the book, but I hadn't gotten that far into it. It was obvious that a man named 'Patch' was going to be the male protagonist and a woman named 'Vee' was going to be a sidekick of sorts in this journey.

"Are you serious?!" I said to myself. I pinched my leg hard, but other than a sharp ache that was now on my thigh, nothing had changed. I couldn't believe I was actually considering this, but it looked as if I had no other choice. There was no way to contact anyone, and even if I could, who would I call?

"Lexi! Your mom is on the phone! Would you come downstairs to take it?" a voice called up to me.

"Wh- What?" I called back, confused, realizing I was not alone in the house.

"Your mom is on the phone, she finally got a break at the auction and would like to speak to you!" the woman's voice replied.

"Okay." I said and walked out of the bedroom, examining everything on my way downstairs. I saw a bathroom to my left that didn't look out of the ordinary and pictures all across the walls. That must be my 'mom', I thought as I looked at a picture with me and a woman. There were some other pictures with what I guessed was my 'dad', my mom, and I all together.

I finally reached the downstairs area, feeling a little wobbly, and out of sorts. The plump woman turned to me, "Hello Lexi. Your mother," she handed the phone to me.

"Uh…Hi?" I questioned more than spoke, into the phone.

"LEXI! Oh, it is so nice to hear your voice! I should be home tomorrow, and then we can have dinner together, or maybe a big breakfast the next day." My pseudo-mother told me.

"Oh. And where are you again?" I needed to get my facts straight and soon.

"Honey, I'm at the auction. You know about my work! I hope you've started your homework, but I'll make sure to tell Dorothea to check up on you tonight anyways." She laughed, but I was unsure about what was so funny.

"Right," I said, "and Dorothea is the lady in the kitchen right now?"

"Yes. Why are you acting so weird Lexi? Vee isn't peer pressuring you into drugs or alcohol or anything like that, is she?" My mother sounded defensive. I took a quick, educated guess that she wasn't the biggest fan of this 'Vee'.

"No, no. Not at all. I just woke up with a headache, and it's messing with my brain." I joked, hoping she wouldn't notice anything was too off. "So when should I expect Dad back by?" I was referring to the man in the pictures I had seen with us.

"Lexi…." There was only silence on the other end, and I instantly knew I had said something wrong. "Lexi. That is not funny and I can only hope you were trying to make a joke. Do I need to take you to the doctor, or call your school psychiatrist to make sure everything is okay?"

"No, I'm sorry it was wrong. I know you don't like when I mention how he left us." I took a stab in the dark.

"Being murdered a year ago was not 'leaving us', Lexi Marie Thomas." She said dryly.

Whoa, how did she know my middle name, I thought.

"I know…mom, I'm sorry." I said remorsefully. I had no idea he had died, and was feeling pretty bad. This lady did think I was her daughter after all.

I told her a quick goodbye and "I love you" and took the stairs up to my room two-by-two. I laid down in the bed again thinking; please go back to normal, repeatedly until I drifted off to sleep. While I was asleep, my mind was collecting bursts of memory of this Nora's life. Only they were morphed into my own memories. I remembered my dad's (her dad's?) funeral; I remembered starting school, going out with Vee, I remembered almost everything. I woke with a start and looked around, it was the same room. It was Nora's room. My room, I thought begrudgingly. I hadn't always been a fan of my life before, but here I was, thrown into someone else's life without so much of a warning or knowledge of any of it. To make it worse, I had only made it a few pages into the book before winding up here, so I was lacking serious information on most of the characters, or people, in my new life. I did know two things though, I could trust Vee, and I could trust Patch. They were in it from the start, so they had to be good. It appeared to be nighttime outside, so I went back to bed and searched for a novel to read. I couldn't find any that could hold my interest in that moment, so I went back to sleep. As unhappy as I was about this whole ordeal, I was equally excited. It was a chance to start over, to do things right, and maybe, just maybe, I could belong somewhere. If only I could remember what the book was about.

I woke up with a start, the sun shining through my new window in my new room, as my new alarm went off. I am going to have a good day, I thought, this is a fresh start. I hopped out of bed and searched through my new wardrobe, it was seriously lacking. I grabbed a purple, long sleeve shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans, and rushed to the bathroom to wash up for school. I came out of the bathroom rejuvenated. I was actually excited about taking someone else's life. I raced downstairs and grabbed what I guessed was the key to my car (though using the word 'car' for the Spider was an overstatement). I opened the door, and started the ignition, the car taking awhile to actually start up, and I pulled out of the long drive way. The book was right about the fog that's for sure, I thought after assessing the farmhouse from the outside. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I knew exactly how to get to school, even though I had no clue how I'd known it. I pulled into the school parking lot looking at the castle exterior, it definitely did not look anything like a school, and my phone started to ring. I picked it out of my pocket and it the caller ID read "Vee". I answered it to the best of my ability.

"Hey girl" I said nervously.

"Hey Lex!" she practically squealed. I was taken aback by her enthusiasm.

"Where are you?" She asked

"Parking lot. You? I'll come find you." I wanted to stall for a little bit while I cleared my head.

"I'm already in class, I know, I'm early for once! But there's this cute guy who sits in the front and I want to try and snag a seat next to him…Crap. Marcie just sat down where I was planning too." She rambled on, a bit intensely.

"Marcie….?" I asked trying to register the name in my brain, seeing if it triggered anything. I felt anger, but I was unsure why.

"Yeah, Marcie Millar, the same girl who hung your bra up after gym a while ago, she put pudding in it, remember? Wrote whore on your locker for no reason? Ringing any bells?" She sounded annoyed.

"Of course. I was just shocked you shared similar tastes with her." I tried to cover up my fumble.

"Girl, you know she'd do anything that moves and is classified as 'male'." She laughed, "By the way, what do you think of your new seats in Biology. You left so quick after class yesterday.."

"New seats?" I remembered reading about this, I think, I was seated next to Patch. "Oh, you know I'm a go wherever the wind takes me kind of girl, he seems nice enough." That ought to satisfy her.

"NICE? Hot, maybe, but he's pretty dark in those clothes. Anyways, I hope we get to change back, I miss sitting next to my best friend." I could hear her drooling over him through the phone, maybe I was wrong and he was going to end up with her. Dark wasn't my type, but she seemed up for the challenge.

"Well, he's all yours if you'd like. I'll see you in Biology." I knew we'd shared that class together from the novel.

"Okay, later gator." She replied.

I put my phone away and headed up the stairs for my first class. I found my backpack in the car and after a long search, I found my locker number and combo, and found my class schedule. Looked like that Nora chick was pretty organized, thank goodness. I made it through all of my classes that morning and was dreading getting to Biology. Yes, I had been excited about the prospect of starting over, but what if people figured it out and knew I was someone else. I could be thrown in jail, or worse. I went nonetheless though, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Seats class!" My biology teacher blurted out, I also heard I few people call him coach on the way in, so I was hoping if I needed to talk to him I could use that title for him.

I scrambled my way into my seat, not knowing where I sat but somehow my legs took me there. A minute later the door opened. 'Coach' was in midsentence. Something about reproduction, but it could wait. A man walked in the door, he looked my age, but only more so. I guessed he was my biology partner as all of the other tables were filled, but the seat next to me wasn't. He must be Patch, I thought. He strolled to his seat, not worried at all that he had been late. He looked at me with a bit of confusion, but then it went away. I was a bit upset, even if I didn't want to admit it, that he was going to end up with Vee. He was extremely attractive, the words beautiful and sexy coming to mind simultaneously, with the height of your average NBA player. He had black wavy hair, and dark eyes. Everything about him was just as Vee had put it, 'dark'.

I felt instantly comforted as he took his seat next to me, he was one of the two I knew I could trust. And, to be honest, he seemed a little less intense than Vee. I immediately liked Vee, but I can only take so much excitement in a day and she could use all of it up in an hour. I looked to my right and smiled at Patch. What an odd name, I thought, but it looks as though it fits. He didn't smile back, just scrutinized me further. I wish I could have known what he was thinking, but I'm sure he'd tell me later. After all, he was my only other friend. Wasn't he?

Coach had assigned us some bogus reading material during class, so I hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to Patch. I needed more information about my life, and maybe, how to get out of here. I hadn't thought about it before, but maybe I should try to go back to my old life. And maybe Vee, or Patch, would know how. At least they might believe me. The bell rang to dismiss class, and everyone got up as quick as possible and left. Vee was waiting for me by the door, but I was stalling trying to find a way to talk to Patch. He hadn't spoken to me at all during class and I was sensing he wasn't feeling too friendly, but my needs outweighed whatever got his pants in a bunch.

"Hey, um, how was your last night?" I asked him, trying to put on my friendliest face. If he was with Vee, I didn't want to cross any lines.

"You're asking how my night was?" He had a trace of humor in his eyes, and his lips curled up slightly, but there definitely wasn't a smile on his face.

"Right, did you hang out with Vee? I'm sure it was great." I kept messing up whatever I was supposed to say.

"Vee? Why would I hang out with her?" He snapped with pure annoyance. So he wasn't in a good mood, and he clearly didn't appreciate Vee's company. Yikes.

"Sorry. I just…I don't know….I haven't been feeling well." I finally settled on an excuse.

He looked at me with interest and I felt hot all over. Maybe I was getting sick.

"I guess I'll see you later!" I called out to him, as I was walking out of the room. I felt humiliated enough as it was.

"Wait," he called back, "would you want to go to Bo's with me tonight"

Bo's… I said the word in my mind, but it only brought up a blank. I assumed it was the name of a friend who was throwing a party. A high school party I could deal with, and at least I could concentrate on getting information out of my peers.

"Sure," I spoke as he caught up with me, "But I forget where it is, so can your write down the address?" I asked him.

He gave a funny smile, "I'll just pick you up. Seven, okay?"

"Okay." And with that, I left with Vee. I guess he had been to my house before so maybe we were together, whatever it was, I'm sure Vee would know.

I walked into the hallway to find her with an aggravated look on her face. A look that said, I've been waiting out here for so long, and now I'm going to be late to my next class. I gave her an apologetic glance back, and tried to steer the conversation in my favor.

"So what are you up to tonight?" I asked her with pure sweetness, it was clear I had an agenda.

"I have a date with a box of donuts, Marcie totally snagged that guy I was telling you about. She didn't even have to speak, he just took one look and like that, he was a goner." She said solemnly. "What about you? Want to help me finish off a second box?"

"I can't, Patch and I are going to a party…" I waited cautiously to hear her response, if something was going on between her and Patch, I'd find out now.

"You, and Patch, going to a party?" She repeated.

"Yes", I squeaked. I was so nervous of getting caught. Again.

"Wow, I didn't think that would happen so fast. I told you he was hot yesterday, just be careful. And, why do I not get invited to these soirées?" She grinned. I was in the clear.

"I'm sure it will just be a fun, classy high school booze fest," I laughed, "and thank you. I will be careful."

I was so happy to finally have said something right, that we both walked the rest of the way in silence. School passed by slowly, I knew most things, and what I didn't know I caught on quick. I was surprised at how antsy I was about that night. But I told myself everything was going to be fine, I obviously knew the guy and trusted him. If not, I'd give him a good kick to the groin and that would secure his actions for the night.

It was six thirty at home and I was ready for the night to begin. I was going to dig to find out everything the people of Coldwater, Maine knew about me. After that, I'd see if there was a way I could reverse what happened.

At seven the doorbell rang, I knew it wasn't my 'mom' because she had called earlier to say she'd be an extra day. I ignored the giddy feeling inside and opened the door.

Patch was standing on the other side, looking casual and confident in his dark jeans, black shirt, and messy hair that stayed put in his baseball hat. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets for a millisecond, but I still noticed. I regretted my outfit choice almost instantly. I wasn't sure how casual parties were in the…reality, so I tried my best to stay in the middle. I kept the skinny jeans from earlier, but under was a corset top lodged in the back of my closet with a jean jacket over it. Now I was sure I'd over done it.

"Too much?" I asked insecurely.

"I'm just afraid of what the people there might want to do to you. Trust me, I'm not going to let anyone else near you though" he said with a wink.

I stayed silent and let him lead me out to his motorcycle. I wasn't good on bikes, so seeing this was not a plus.

"Nice bike." I remarked quietly, knowing full well I would pass out mid-ride.

"Not too comfortable on a motorcycle?" he joked.

"No." I swallowed nervously.

"Oh. You'll be fine, trust me, nothing's going to happen under my watch unless I wanted it to." He assured me. Somehow, I wasn't comforted, and started to get nervous.

What if Patch wasn't trustworthy, what if he was the villain? What if I am mixed up with the wrong people? I'm still at home and nothing has to happen, I thought. Sensing my reaction, he grabbed my hand and dragged me toward him.

"We could always stay here if you prefer" he whispered. I shivered, and didn't want to think about whether it was because I feeling all hot again, or because I was scared of being alone with him in my house.

"No, let's go." I said more confidently. I could do with a bike ride, but I couldn't do with staying home alone with Patch without anyone knowing where I was.

I grabbed on tightly around his waist, and prayed for my life. I may have been in the right reality, but I still wanted to live. He thrust the bike into action, and off we went. It was the longest ride of my life, and I had been on a road trip before. I was questioning everything, from my allies to my enemies, to where we were going. We were about thirty minutes out and I knew we couldn't be going to a party of anyone we went to school with.

We pulled into a full lot, with cars and motorcycles alike, and I saw the big sign, Bo's Arcade and Z's Pool Hall. We were at a pool hall? I highly doubted Patch wanted to be in an arcade, but then again, this didn't look like an average Chuck E. Cheese. I nervously got off of the bike, and handed Patch my helmet. He took it and placed it under the seat, and came around to my side. I felt uneasy and I had no clue what was going to happen. He took me inside, after paying my cover charge, and we went to the right, we walked into Z's.

"I had no clue it was going to be so easy to get you to go out with me." Patch smirked. A cold shiver went down my spine.

"I'm always up for an adventure." I blurted, knowing full well, before this book trouble, I had never done anything exciting.

He smiled at me and took two cue sticks from the wall behind a pool table.

"You ever played before?" He asked.

"No." I lied. In truth, one of my foster father's had one in the basement when I was 12, but I couldn't say that. Not here.