When I got home, my mom was in the living room, reading.

"Where were you?" she asked, not looking up from her book.

"Out," I said simply. I really wanted to just go upstairs to my room.

"With...him?" she asked, making a face, still not looking up from her book.

"Maybe," I said, as I shifted from one foot to the other. Finally she put the book down, took off her glasses, and looked at me. Actually, she stared so hard I thought she could see right through. Like she was looking at all of my secrets.

"Honey. You know I love you, right?" she asked with a motherly face. I nodded, not saying a thing. Where was she going with this? "And you know that what your father and I said about that boy is only to protect you, right?"

"His name is Chase," I said.

"Yes, I know," She glanced down and saw the rose in my hand. "Is that from that bo-I mean, is that from Chase?" she asked me.

"Yes."

"Oh," She stood up and walked over to me. She reached out and rubbed my arm. "Honey, I know that you two have been friends for a while...but...he's trouble."

I stared up at her and took a step back. "I love him."

Her arm dropped. "I'm sure you do. But he's just going to break your heart and move on. Forget all about you. And I know what that feels like. It hurts. And I don't want to see that happen to you," she said.

"Chase is different! You don't even know him! He loves me and he would never do that!" I yelled, and with tears I ran upstairs to my room.

We had this conversation every day. Every. Single. Day. She tells me she doesn't think he's good, and I say he is, then I run away crying. I hate how this always happens. I love him. I really, really love him. Why can't she just be happy about it? And dads no help. He just agrees with whatever mom says.

Once I got to my room, I shut my door and lay on my bed, staring at the moon outside of my window. It shone beautiful through my lace curtains, filling the room with it's light. Finally I got up and walked over to my desk to write in my journal.

I switched on my lamp on my desk and grabbed my favorite pen. I opened my book, rereading all my other entries. I smiled to myself as I read about all the wonderful things Chase has done for me. Not only as a couple but as best friends. He really did make me a better person.

Chase and I met at our tree as usual. But he surprised me with a rose! And of course my mom got upset again and tried to talk me out of seeing him. But she can't. No one can. I love him. Which, in a way, is funny. We were best friends for so long. When people used to tease us about being a couple, we would both gag and say no. But now...now we are. It's so weird. But I love it. I love him. Maybe I'm even… obsessed.

I shut my journal and sat there quietly, just thinking over everything. Finally I got into my pajama's and slipped into bed with Chase's words repeating in my mind.

The next morning at school, I waited for Chase to meet me at my locker, like usual. But at two minutes till the bell rang, and him being a no-show, I finally gave up and went to class. When I walked in, my friend Zoey starting waving her hands wildly as if I wouldn't see her. I smiled and slipped into the seat she had saved for me.

"What happened?" she asked as I sat my backpack down.

"What do you mean?" I asked, pulling out my notebook for class.

"You told me Chase texted you to meet him, but you never said what happened when you got there!" she winked. She knew all about Chase and his romance tactics. She practically lived and breathed our romance story as if it were her own.

I blushed and she smiled, knowing something good happened. "He gave me a rose," I said and she gasped. "Without a single thorn!"

She put her hand on her heart. "That is the most romantic thing ever," she said. "That stuff just doesn't happen in high school. You are so lucky!"

I nodded. "I am."

"Where is he today, anyway?" Zoey asked as our teacher walked in.

"I don't know. He never showed up," I told her. Not that it was such a surprise. He did have a habit of ditching. But he's tried coming every day since we started dating.

Our teacher called for our attention and Zoey smiled at me as the class started. Half way through, the intercom came on. "Can Mary Fields please come to the office? Mary Fields."

Everyone in the classroom turned to look at me. My teacher nodded, and I gathered my things and headed out the door. Zoey gave me a questioning look before I left the room and I shrugged, just as confused. When I made it to the office, the principal met me.

"Hello Mary," He said, shaking my hand.

"Hello Principal Banks. What's the problem?" I asked, nervously. I never get in trouble. Was something wrong at home? I gulped.

"Well I didn't call you in here because you're in trouble. So don't worry about that," He paused and looked at me. "It's about Chase."

I felt my heart start to beat faster.

He looked at me kindly. "He got into a fight before school. He was taken to the police station, but when they asked who to call, he said you."

I nodded, feeling my face flush. Another fight? Would he ever stop?

"Since his parents are apparently out of town, we think it would be okay if you went to go see him," Principal Banks said.

"Right now?" I asked.

He nodded. "You will be excused from your morning classes, but I expect you back at lunch. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I said, nodding goodbye. I headed out to my car and towards the police station.

When I got to the police station, I parked my car and walked inside, feeling unbelievably nervous.

"Can I help you?" a woman at the front desk asked, sounding unbelievably bored.

"Um, yes. I'm here to see Chase Wilde," I said, wringing my hands nervously.

She frowned and looked me up and down. "Follow me."

She led me down a dark hallway to a plain white door. She let me inside. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said as I stepped in. I stared at Chase as she shut the door behind me.

Sitting on a chair in the corner, his eyes were an ugly color of purple and black. His arm was scratched and bleeding and his lip was cracked. He looked at me. We were quiet for a moment. Then, I couldn't take it anymore.

"A fight?" I almost yelled. "You got into another fight?"

He looked miserable. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"You promised me you were done!" I said, upset.

"I was! But he was being a jerk! He was talking trash about my parents...and...you. I wasn't gonna let him get away with it. He had no right to say what he did about you and it pissed me off. He had it coming," he said, standing up. But his leg was busted up, too, and he fell back into his chair. My heart melted, and I walked over to him. He patted his right knee and I sat down on it, while he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in my ear.

"I know. But...why did you have to fight him? He obviously was much tougher. Why can't you just walk away?" I asked.

He looked away. "It' hard, you know? Every instinct in me says to fight back. That's just how I am. That's kind of how I was raised. My dad was drunk all the time, and my mom sleeping with every guy she met. I kind of had to raise myself. I got upset because I didn't have parents who cared. So I taught myself to fight when I got upset."

I nodded, knowing how hard this was for him. I was used to both of my parents there, supporting me and giving me love and it hurt to know he had never experienced that. His parents actually called him a mistake because he wasn't planned. I know he acted tough, like he didn't care, but I also knew it hurt him. Bad.

"I know you don't like fighting. And I'm trying to stop. Really, I am. But no one talks that way about my girlfriend," he turned and looked into my eyes. "No one."

I looked away from his intense gaze. "I know you try to stop. But I hate fighting because I hate seeing how hurt you are in the end."

He looked at me. "I can handle it, you know. I'm not a baby."

I nodded. "I know. But you pick the worst fights to get into. Ones you're not prepared to handle."

"So I should start learning to fight harder?"

"No! That's not what I'm saying at all," I said, standing up. "Just learn to walk away."

He looked away. "But it's really hard for me."

I put my hands on his face and pulled him towards me, forcing him to look at me. "I know. But walking away shows how strong you are. It's not a weakness," He smiled and I kissed his cheek. "Besides, it's not helping your case with my parents to find out you were in another fight."

He nodded. "I'll try. I promise."

The lady that led me to the room walked in. "Time's up," she said motioning to me. Then she looked at him. "And you've been bailed. Let's go."

Chase grabbed my hand and squeezed it as we walked out, wondering who had bailed him.

And I sure hope he meant what he said.

I really did.