Chapter 1

Dear Diary,

Yea, sorry about the stereotypical beginning. Couldn't think of anything else.

Anyway, I just got a new journal. My mom told me writing my problems down will help me solve them.

Somehow I just don't believe her.

This is the first time she made contact with me in eleven years, six days, 17 hours, and 4 minutes. But who's counting right?

Anyway, she called me yesterday, telling me she got a phone call from the school. I don't know how the school got her number, but she told me to go get, and I quote, "A nice journal for you to write your emotional problems in." Almost as if telling me, I'm some kind of crazy psychopath who stabs people in her sleep.

Keep holding the faith, mom.

I told her I had no emotional problems and so she goes into a big lecture about "how we all have problems with our heads, and our heart needs love to grow" and all that crap. Well if she ever reads this she will know:

First off, you left when I was five. So if I hear you telling me my heart needs love to grow then I can, and will, slap you. And it will hurt. A lot.

Secondly, why do you care about me? Why did you leave? Was it really all that hard to stay with me until I was old enough to drive? Then move farther away and I could drive myself to see you. But no. You ran away from your problems. You didn't get your perfect rich doctor husband, three perfect angel kids, and a Labrador retriever that always kept quiet when you said to.

I bet you don't even have a journal.

And I bet your wondering why she called about my so-called "emotional problems". Well it's about how I punched a kid in the face. In my defense he was asking a bunch of questions about if I finished my algebra homework, (yes), if I thought it was hard (no way), and thinking we could be the greatest of friends. So I punched him in the face. That certainly shut him up.

I've punched plenty of kids before; I don't see why now it's a problem. She never bothered calling on my birthday, or when I e-mailed her to tell her about my new fashion drawings.

Well, I guess this was a pretty good entry.

But don't expect me to come back soon.

Alice

I closed my journal and traced the black skulls on the front cover.

"That helped absolutely nothing." I muttered to it.

A knock sounded at my door. I shoved the journal under my pillow and started listening to Ignorance (Paramore 2009).

The knock was louder this time.

"Alice, may I come in?" I heard my father's voice on the other side of the door.

"If you must," I said, grabbing my beat up copy of Wuthering Heights.

He opened my door and smiled at me. I nodded my head at him.

"Wuthering Heights again?" He asked me, coming over to sit on my bed.

"It's a classic." I defended myself.

He laughed. "Remind me again why you like it?"

"Heathcliff and Catherine die."

"For love." He added.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, because that is so realistic." I looked at him. "Why does that happen? Romeo and Juliet, Heathcliff and Catherine…."

He shrugged and ruffled my hair.

"Dinner will be ready in 30 minutes." He told me, getting up and yawning.

"Dad if you're tired I could—"

"No, no. I'll make dinner."

"Dad we could order in." I reasoned. "I'll wake you up when it's here."

He sighed. Clearly he was leaning towards my side, but there was something else that would make him agree to my idea.

"My treat?" I whispered, looking at the floor.

"Okay, but I'm paying you back. So how will that be?"

The relationship between my dad and me was simple. You did something that cost money that both of you or you asked the other person for money you would pay them back somehow.

Most of the time he just paid for the CD I wanted and I bought dinner. Of course this "rule" wasn't a spoken rule. We just kind of fell into that routine after my mom left. I guess it made us feel normal.

Not that we were normal. Oh, no. We were far from normal. It's not that I'm an immortal vampire (I find these hugely cliché, by the way.) A girl who's mom left when she was five, all angsty (I make up words, deal with it) with nothing to comfort her but the color black. And my dad who happened to be about as normal as one person can take. Except for the few parts about how he has a disappearing wife, depressed daughter, and no family relatives.

See? We're completely normal. Note the sarcasm.

Anyway, after my dad left to sleep I went downstairs and starting going through food menus.

Chinese, Japanese, Mexican, cheap Italian, very expensive Italian…I went through the orders twice before finally deciding on pizza.

After 15 minutes the doorbell rang.

I opened the door and stopped. It was Jasper Hale, the most popular guy at our school. He had a band with a few of his friends, and at our school that was a huge deal.

"Hi, I have your Quick Pick Pizza with wings and coleslaw. That'll be $20.00." He said in a bored tone and handed me my order.

I held back my laughter, remembering it was him who had told me, just yesterday about how he would never have to work. Ever.

"So… how's the uh—'not ever gonna have to work', working for you?" I asked, smiling as I looked through my wallet.

He glared at me. "Shut up."

"Now, now, no need to be rude to customers." I told him. "Oh and just for that, tips won't be greatly given." I handed him a twenty and a few singles.

"So, you live here?" He asked me, leaning into my house.

"No, my dinosaur lives here. I just decided to come feed it and order pizza."

"Aren't dinosaurs extinct?" He said, confused.

I looked at him. Is he really that stupid?

It finally clicked with him. "Oh, you were being sarcastic."

"I would call you bird-brain, but all the birds in this world would be insulted." I said.

"Ouch."

"Yeah." I told him. "So if you still have work you should um… oh, I don't know, leave."

"Again I say, ouch." He held his chest like he was wounded.

"Just remember pizza boy, you're on my property and you've already delivered the pizza. I could shoot you if I wanted." I closed the door and started walking to the kitchen to set the table, only to be interrupted by the doorbell.

I set the pizza down and walked backed to the door.

When I opened the door Jasper still stood there, only this time he had a piece of paper on a little notepad.

"I don't know how things work in Texas, but here, when someone slams a door in your face, you leave."

He rolled his eyes. "Chill Alice, I just need you to answer a customer satisfaction survey."

"If I say I liked the service will you leave?"

"You can't lie. It makes the service weak."

"That makes no sense."

"Are you sure you just aren't getting my smartness? I mean, I am in gifted algebra."

I rolled my eyes. "And by gifted you mean mentally retarded?"

"Just answer the gosh darn questions, Alice!" He threw his arms to the side, clearly exasperated by my behavior. I mentally giggled. Jasper was too much of a good boy to swear. At all, like, ever.

I sighed and made a mental note to order from a different pizza service next time. I made a motion with my hands telling him to continue.

"Okay. Was the service you got today bad, good, very good, or exceptionally good?"

"Bad."

"Would the chances you would order from us be bad, good, very good, or exceptionally good?"

"Bad."

He scribbled more on his little notepad. "Okay, be prepared. This is the last question."

"Get on with it Jasper. I have a pizza with my name on it."

"If the pizza boy named Jasper Hale asked a pretty girl named Alice to the homecoming parade next Wednesday would his chances be bad, good, very good, or exceptionally good?"

I stopped breathing. Jasper Hale, the boy all the girls want to go out with. And he asked me, the weirdest girl in our school.

I honestly don't like Jasper. Well, mostly I don't have a problem with him in general; I just don't like his personality. He's a cocky, arrogant jerk who thought he could get any girl to fall for him. That was pretty much the only thing I despised. He was cute, had amazing hair that any girl would beg to run her fingers through, he could make me laugh (even he didn't mean to), and his smile made me smile. If he just got rid of the attitude… things might be different.

"Alice? The question?"

I took his notepad from him and wrote my answer.

"Okay, I'm gonna go. And after I close the door you'll walk away. Right?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He saluted me.

Jasper POV

She closed the door trying to push back her smile. I started to walk to the car and after I got in I looked at the notepad. In Alice's neat little letters she had written.

Exceptionally Good