Author Note: Ok, chapter one.

Disclaimer: Lauren owns the characters, I own my own characters, Sarah Dessen owns much of the plot.

Chapter One

Amy's POV

September 21st: Tuesday

I kick a rock from its resting place on my way up the drive. I follow it as it skips it's way around a bend and the farmhouse comes into view. I lift my eyes from the now abandoned rock and run my eyes across the yard. The large white farmhouse stands off to the left, the kind of house that makes you want to never leave the comfort of home. My eyes linger on the window over the front porch, my mothers.

My mother died 3 years prior, and painful reminders never cease in their insistent goal of ruining my life. I let myself drift into the blissful memory that is my mother. She had a head full of thick blonde hair that fell to just below her shoulders in a graceful arc. She had eyes that could sweep you into lands unknown and lull you to sleep with their gentleness, their light gray orbs now positioned on my own face. I couldn't even stand to look in the mirror.

Painful reminders were everywhere.

All in all I look more like my father than anything. I have light brown hair that falls in spirally locks halfway down my back. I am a slim girl, muscles slightly noticeable from working the farm, and have the eyes of my mother.

I let my eyes drift away from the window and the still curtains, never to be drawn again. My eyes swing to the right of the house, across the yard, where the front barn is, and beyond that, the back barn. Each holding 12 horses. Behind the house and barns are the paddocks, in which several horses are carelessly grazing, not a care in the world.

I drop my eyes back to my feet and guide them towards the front porch, nearly tripping when I lose my focus and run into the bottom step. I regain my posture and walk into the house, throwing my shoes to the side, under the coatrack. The kitchen is in a state of dismay, and I scowl at the half eaten bagel, rotting away near the sink.

I hum under my breath and walk over to the elegant, the only slightly expensive looking thing in my house, spiral staircase that winds towards the second floor like a strand of DNA. I take the stairs two at a time, like usual, and find myself in the upstairs hallway. I turn to the left and walk towards the last door on the right. I pul on the handle and twist, you have to know how to work my handle, it can be quite tricky.

My room is immaculate. Straight ahead of the perfectly center (I measured) doorway is my perfectly centered full size bed. Next to it is a side table that almost matches the wood trimmings along my windows and floor. On the far right wall is a long glass mirror that opens into a closet, sorted by what sort of clothing it was, and then colors. The closet doesn't take up the whole wall though because in the corner is a single doorway, no door to be seen (it was very old and Grandpa took it off and never replaced it) that leads into my private bathroom. My bathroom it white with very light blue accents, my sink a work of art. Not a single drop of water clusters its surface, and the toothpaste and toothbrush are always in their right spot, in the corner. To the left of my bed is a long table, on top in the center is a stereo, and to either side are pictures. In the corner is another table that contains all my horse related topics. Magazines, grooming kits needing to be cleaned, and so forth.

My sister calls my room the 'Loon', a shortened name of Loony Bin, in which she pairs with my room partly because she thinks I should be in one im such an obsessive cleaner, and partly because its so clean it should belong to one.

I like it.

I drop my book bag in it's designated spot to the right of my door and walk towards my closet. I slide the door open and glance in, knowing exactly where to find what I want. I reach my hand towards the 'Farm Clothes' section and pick up a pair of old jeans and a loose t-shirt.

Time for work.

When I am finished dressing I close my door and walk back downstairs, slipping into my work shoes, and heading out to the yard. I start walking towards the front barn when I hear someone calling me,

"Amy, wait up!" I halt and wait for the stable hand, Ben Stillman, to catch up, "Hey," he smiles.

Ben is handsome. No way around that. He has blonde hair, cut short and slightly spiky, that contrasts well with his icy blue eyes. He is lean with muscular biceps and abs that can almost be seen even when wearing a baggy shirt. But what most girls actually notice first is his smile. He has perfectly white teeth that are perfectly straight and when he flashes you a smile you can't help but think of a toothpaste commercial. But that's not the best thing about his smile. Its that his smiles are always absolutely genuine. They are warm and inviting and make you want to curl up with those thick lips that grace you with their presence.

He is one of my best friends. No possible dating there. Not that I want to. But he is handsome.

"Hey," I smile back, which is not hard at all around Ben. Ever since my mom died my smiles are few and none between. I used to always be smiling, everything about life was perfectly smile worthy. Until my mom died, and my smiles wilted into their new reclusive home. I had to be really provoked to smile, even with my very best friends, Soraya and Matt, but something about Ben just made me smile.

Ben had started working at Heartland about 4 months after my mother died, therefore there was no way he could remind me of my mom. Maybe that is why he could always make me smile with no effort what so ever. Everything else held some part of my mom that it was too hard to bear. Soraya and Matt hadn't been nearly as close as they used to be. I pushed them away.

"How was school?" Ben's smile lightens a little, as it always does after its first bright effect. But he never stops smiling, no matter what.

"It was ok," I have a nasty habit of using only the words absolutely necessary to reply to something. My Grandpa says I am well on my way to becoming either mute or having a very bright future of mime-hood.

"That's good. Well I have to leave in an hour, my aunt is coming down for dinner and I still have to shop. But," he flashed me that smile of his, "I worked overtime so I didn't feel guilty leaving you with everything. All you have to do is give everyone their dinner and swap the horses in the field in a while. Then your good for the night,"

"Thanks Ben, you're a life-saver," suddenly Ben whips out in-front of me and started walking backwards, smiling as he stares straight into my eyes,

"I know. What would you do without me, Amy my love!" I laugh and Ben's eyes widen, "My fair maiden, have I actually made thee laugh? Bless my fragile heart, I have! We must celebrate, come," Ben's fake English accent wafts over my ears and I giggle as he takes my hand and twirls me around, dancing with my in the middle of the yard.

(A/N– I am making Ben too good. If I keep up this way it will turn into a Amy/ Ben shipping!)

Ben gently lays my hands on his shoulders and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer and I lay my head on his shoulder.

"So, how is the present boyfriend holding up? It's been what, two months. I think your behind on the break-up. You better get going or people will actually believe that," Ben gasps dramatically, "Amy Flemings is actually committing to a boyfriend instead of dumping him."

"Shut up," I slap his arm and try to pull back from his embrace, but he holds steady.

"No, Amy, really. I mean when will this ever stop? Ever since your mo.." I cut him off,

"Don't even say it Ben, don't" my voice cuts like a knife through the silent farm, but Ben keeps going as if I never interrupted,

"-ther died, you've been like this. You date and date and date. Sometimes people you know, sometimes random guys. You date them for a while, but when it threatens to get serious you pull back from them and then dump them. Leaving them cold and confused on the curb as you speed away as fast as you can. It's not healthy Amy, you need a steady relationship, someone who cares for you and who you care for back. I mean look at us, if our friendship was turned into love it would be wonderful right? We care for each other so much as friends and its so great. Think about caring about someone that much but in a different kind way. A love kind of way."

"Look Ben, I don't need to be lectured. I know I date a lot, but that's my choice, there's nothing you can do about it," I wretch myself from his firm arms and walk away, calling over my shoulder, "And not that it is any of you information, but my present relationship is fine. Just fine."

"Don't lie to yourself Amy, it will only make it harder to realize true love when it comes your way. Don't shut it out Amy, please." Ben calls after me, but I block out his voice and walk towards the tack room, planning on feeding th horses. When I enter the dusty room I immediately see that Ben had also taken the liberty of making all the feeds, all I have to do is distribute them.

That boy needs a life.

I pick up to buckets and haul them into the barn, placing each one in a stall, stopping to say hello to each horse as I give them their dinner. When im finally done I walk out to the yard and see Ben climbing into his truck, he sees me and lifts his leg out of his door and walks over to me,

"You still mad?" his eyes taunt me, glistening with the fact that he knows me too well,

"Yes," I try and muster the most solemn face I can and stalk away from him,

"No you not," I can hear the smile for goodness sake,

"Yes. I am." I won't let him win, I won't.

"Nope. Wanna know why?" he doesn't give me a chance to answer before he breaks out in a sing song voice, "Because you love me. Love me!"

"No I don't," god damn him.

"Oh-ho yes you do," I can hear him breathing in, getting ready to sing again, and then I feel his hands on my wrists, "If you love me and you know it clap your hands," he claps my hands together while I try and resist him, "If you love me and you know it clap your hands," clap, clap, "If you love me and you know it, and you really want to show it, if you love me and you know it," he twists me around and lets go of my wrists, clapping his own hands, "Clap your hands!"

My hands keep their position next to my sides, and I try not to smile, "I really do not love you," I will myself to look straight into his eyes as I say this, and I feel a bubbling sensation in my gut, working its was up to my lips, making them spread across my face in a slow smile,

"Ah ha! You do love me, your smiling," his face becomes pitiful, "You know Amy, I understand. Girls find it hard to resist me and this bod," he flexes his arms, "I mean I have girls crawling over me all the time. I totally understand your position. Were just friends though Amy. I'm so dearly sorry, but I really don't see you that way. Not that your not," he pretends to look for a word and I become insulted, "Pretty," he smiles at my open mouth shock, "But we have too deep a friendship to ever go any farther,"

"Pretty?" I fake insulted,

"Well, maybe a little bit more than pretty," he pinches his fingers together in a small gesture,

"A little? I think im a little more than a little pretty," I smile and we both start laughing.

"Well, my pretty, I really have to be going," Ben starts after a few minutes, "I mean, no matter how much you want to sit here and argue with me over your appearances, I do have other obligations,"

"All right I suppose," I punch his arm slightly, "Leave, get out,"

"Fine. Be like that," he starts to walk away but I yell after him and he turns his head slightly to show he is listening,

"You never said you loved me!" I shout, a laugh evident in my voice,

"Your right, I didn't," he winks at me and I stand with my mouth open, staring at his retreating back as it shakes with silent laughter.

Next Day: September 22nd: Wednesday

I slip into a pair of light jeans and shimmy my hips to slide the fabric around them. I button the front and then turn to the shirt that is lying, folded of course, on the toilet seat. I pick it up and slip into its sleek comfort. It is a fitted brown shirt that has a dangerously low v-neck, in which a laced white tank top covers my breasts.

I lean over, towards my toes, and pull the towel from its twisted position around me hair, letting long curls flow from the towel. I rake my fingers through the curls, letting them bounce back to their previous position. I then flip my head back up and turn the hair dryer on, letting it dry my curls. When finished I walk over to the mirror and pick up a bottle of mouse, distributing the foam throughout my hair, taming any frizz that has sprouted up. Which isn't much. My hair is the one thing that I truly love about myself. Loose spirals that have barely, if any, frizz. They fall to about halfway down my back, shining in any sort of lighting.

I lean into the mirror and lightly apply the tiniest bit of eyeshadow, the only makeup I ever wear, natural beauty to me is much more beautiful. I tip myself away from the mirror and glance up and down my body, pretty good job. I recap and reorganize everything on my sink, hang my towel, dump my dirty clothes, and walk into my room. Scattered across my bed is my book bag, purse, cell phone, and light jacket. I pick them all up, situate them on my body, and head out to the yard.

Waiting for me as I step out the door is my car. A S60 R Volvo. Not the best car, but I admired it. It is fairly new, I have only had my license for about 4 months. I fish my keys out of my purse and slide into the driver seat, starting the car with a flick of my fingers. I pull out of my driveway, glance both ways, and then head towards school.

I park in the same spot every day. It is about 7 spots away from the sidewalk that leads to the garden. The garden serves as a eating area during the summer, and where everyone hangs out till school starts. At my school there is no designated parking, but somehow everyone just sort of knows that on the first day of school, where your parked is where your parked all year. Some spunky Seniors actually spray painted their spots this year, earning a week of detention, but were allowed to keep the spray paint there, as long as they clean it at the end of the year. The principal is very lenient.

I ready myself for a long day of school, and then step out of my car, only to collide with Chad, the present boyfriend.

"Hey babe," he wraps his arms around me and nuzzles his face into my neck, nipping at the curve that resides there. I sigh a little and push him away. He holds me tight against him, only nibbling harder at the already tender spot on my neck.

"Chad, quit it," I struggle to stop the insistent nibbling that is very fast wearing down my niceness. He stops but kisses his way up my neck, where his mouth sucks in my earlobe and starts to naw away.

Chad is a nibbler. I secretly call him that when thinking about him.

"Chad," I say a little more forcefully, shoving my hands into his chest, only to have my ear scraped out of his mouth, a fleeting pain bursting in my lobe, "Ow," I rub my ear until the pain has subsided.

"What's wrong," he frowns and rests his hands on my hips, pushing me against my car and grinding his hips into mine.

"You," his eyes flinch in pain, "Just stop ok? I don't appreciate someone biting away at my neck," I glance down at his hands pointedly, " And I certainly don't appreciate your PDA when it involves me slammed against a car," I once again push him away.

"Amy, what is it with you? I try to be affectionate and all you do lately is push me away. If I seem to remember correctly it used to be you pushing me against cars in the parking lot, do a whole hell of a lot more than what I am," I sigh in a huge gust,

"Look im just not into it anymore, ok?"I shake my hips trying to loosen his hold there, but he only clenches his hands a little more. This used to make me jump on him, landing in full on make-out mode, but now it just annoys me. I try to pry his hands off with my own, and finally he lets go. I start to walk away when he grabs my wrist,

"Amy, please, what's wrong?" I don't want to hurt him, but as I mull this question over, I realize Ben was right. This is getting too serious for him. He relies on me. I have to end it. Only pain will come out of this if I delay it any longer.

"Chad," I falter, "Look, I like you a lot, I really do. But I don't really see us going anywhere and I don't want to prolong what we know is eventually going to happen. Im sorry, I really am," he still seems a little befuddled, "Can we just be friends?" his eyes take on an instant knowing and he immediately drops my hand.

"Friends." he repeats. His eyes are emotionless and raw, cutting through me like a dagger. This is how it always is, me feeling guilty as I finally see how much they liked me. I always like my boyfriends, I do. But I don't believe in true love, but I certainly believe in pain, and that's why I try my best to avoid it. But I always hate seeing the emotion stripped from the guys eyes and the hollow look that takes over him.

"Yes," I say softly, reaching out to touch his hand, he pulls back.

"I don't think I can Amy, I don't want to be your friend, I want to be more" he walks away, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging. I sigh and will the pain of his eyes to the dark corners of my mind. I grab everything out of my car and head towards the garden.

I pull out my cell phone and dial Ben's cell,

"Amy?" he questions, surprised im calling,

"Yeah, hey" I sigh into the phone and he knows what's wrong,

"Dumped him?" his voice isn't mocking in the least. I can always count on Ben to know he's right but never taunt with 'I told you so's.

"Yeah, it was hard. He was crushed,"

"It's always hard. Maybe one day you won't do it anymore," his voice hints, "You know it's a shame, I liked this one."

"Me too, just not enough for forever," I hear him laugh darkly,

"No one said it was forever Amy,"

"Then why prolong it? Why do I even start it Ben?"

"Are those the only choices you see Amy? Nothing or forever? That's not how it works. Not at all. That's the beauty of things, you have choices. Nothing has to be forever, and forever doesn't have to be nothing. Go on the in-between Amy, follow your heart for once, not your head."

"You make it sound so..." I stop as a melody catches my ear and a guy catches my eye across the garden. His head is bent, his fingers strumming along the strings of an acoustic guitar. He is humming softly to the tune and three guys next to him are talking to him in low voices. He has dark brown hair that is only the slightest bit long, pieces falling down over his face as he bends it down in concentration. I stare at him, open mouthed, letting his fingers pick away at the music that soothes me. Suddenly his head lifts, the music stops, and he looks right at me, emerald green eyes piercing though me like a well hidden secret. I gasp and drop my eyes, realizing Ben is still talking,

"Amy? You there...Amy!" I almost drop my phone as he shouts,

"Yeah, yeah im here. No need to shout."

"Well you didn't finish your sentence. 'You make it sound so...' what?"

"Nothing I have to go, see you later, bye," I snap my phone shut and turn left towards the school, glancing discreetly at the boy. He is turned to the side, talking to a copper-haired boy, and I realize that the one with the guitar is the only one who looks high school bound. The others look older, like they graduated years prior. I have never seen any of them and they intrigue me.

To the far left is a guy who looks to be about 19 with long blonde hair. In his hands he holds two drum sticks and is rhythmically hitting them off of the stone wall on which he sits, bobbing his head to the tune. Next to him is a black haired guy who looks to be about the same age as the drummer next to him. He has a kind face and is talking softly to the drummer, who simply nods. Next to him is the guitarist, who is talking to the guy on his right, the copper one, who looks to be maybe 20 or so.

I find myself staring at them too long and theone with the guitarnotices me again, and smiles the littlest bit, I blush and head towards school.

Author Note: So...shall I continue?