EPOV

I walked into the cafeteria, abundant with hormones.

I cringed. From outside, I could see a tall blonde chick making out with her boyfriend. He was huge. I sighed, opening the door in resignation. I kicked something. Looking down, I found a lemonade bottle and a girl. Huh. She seemed to be having trouble.

She looked up at me and gaped. I was going to ask is I had something on my face but then thought better of it. She would probably just brush me off, pretend I didn't exist...but I liked it that way. It was better than conversing with everyday people. Speaking of monotonous, I glanced around at the students here, hurriedly eating, blissfully ignorant. I leant down, scooped up the bottle and handed it to the brown-haired girl.

When I looked into her eyes I felt a current of electricity flow through me. I held back a gasp of surprise. She was very pretty. Beautiful even. I bit my tongue and strode past her, successfully dodging a conversation which would most likely end badly anyway. She probably hated people like me, loners. I sat down at an empty table, put on my IPod and got my book out. Wuthering Heights. I peeked from the corner of my eye back over at the girl. She had moved. I searched the room, my eyes glazing over the jocks at one particular table. Then my eyes settled on that thick brown hair, her pale face.

She was sitting at the jock table. I almost rolled my eyes.

Of course, someone like that was bound to be popular, bound to already have a dip shit boyfriend.

And, of course, she was sitting next to some douche bag. He must be her boyfriend, the one with the football t-shirt, the spiky blonde hair drowned in gel. I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat when he slid his hand up her thigh. Surprisingly, she flinched away, I raised my eyebrows.

He hardly seemed to notice, instead he put his arm around the back of her seat. At that moment, I felt pity for the girl, almost sympathy, and another strange urge that I couldn't put a name to. Watching people chat and laugh together was making me nauseous and depressed. I missed it sometimes, human interaction. But I would rather pay the price of loneliness than the alternative...

FLASHBACK

"Mum, can you buy me another copy of Wuthering Heights?" I asked innocently, looking up at her from my cereal. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with the copy I bought you?" she asked, perking an eyebrow. I bit my lip.

"Well, you see, letting the cat inside my room isn't the best idea, seeing as they tend not to be toilet trained as well as you and I." Mum stared at me and just said. "Ew," I half-smiled. "Yeah," I nodded. "The pages stick together. Apparently, cat pee isn't good for books." I shrugged. She snorted and stood up from her chair at the table, dashing to the hook on the wall where she keeps her keys. "Well," she began, shrugging on her jacket.

"I do have to find that new edition cook book I wanted. And your father wanted to see about getting a new sofa. Apparently, your books aren't the only thing the cat thinks she owns." She sighed. I screwed up my face. She laughed at my expression then called out for my dad. He came trotting downstairs.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." He leapt off the bottom step and launched himself at my mother, gathering her up and kissing her on the mouth. I made a gagging noise, deciding it was best to leave that part of their lives to the imagination—not that I wanted to imagine that—and went back to inhaling my fruit loops. Dad chuckled and started making disturbing kissing and slurping noises while mum giggled like an embarrassed school girl. I looked back at them and my mum beamed at me then took my dad by the hand, waving behind them as they made their way out the door.

That was the very last time I saw my parents.

5:48p.m. I bit my thumb nail, nervous and wondering where the hell my parents were. I would have been home already even if I'd gone out. They left at eleven that morning. Maybe they decided to do some shopping in the city tonight. I didn't blame them. Dad's job could be so stressful. They desperately needed the time off. Maybe I was just stressing about nothing—like I always do. 8:04p.m. I had the cordless in my hand, redialling Mum and Dad's cells.

Nothing, just voice mail. I sighed, throwing the phone on the counter.

The least they could do was call home if they were going to be late. Now I was getting angry and frustrated, but only did I realise later that it was just a defence mechanism. I had already known something was wrong—gravely wrong. My mind just wasn't processing it—didn't even want to consider it. So I chose to be frustrated instead. The doorbell rang. I sighed in relief. "Coming!" I yelled, racing to open the locks.

"It's about time you guys—" I stopped short, my face probably paled. At my front door were two cops. Both men. They were around my height, both averagely muscular, their eyes grave. I gulped. "Yes?" I breathed, my vision going slightly blurry. I clenched and unclenched my fists. They shared a glance, before one nodded and looked into my eyes. The next words were like stabs to the chest. "You must be Edward Mason...?" I nodded. "I'm so sorry, son. But I'm afraid there's been an accident.

You're parents—they were killed in the collision." He stated, his voice soft and sad. I breathed in rigidly. One of them put a hand on my shoulder. I vaguely noticed that they were saying other things. My mind was elsewhere. My parents. They were gone. And it was my fault.

FINISH OF FLASHBACK

I paused in the middle of a sentence. I flipped to the front page of the book. On the inside of the cover was a note. To Edward, Don't leave this one on the floor for the cat again. Love, Mum and Dad. My fingers stroked the pen lines, lost in the past. I breathed slowly, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat.

I went back to the page I was on, glancing up at the girl every once and a while.