A freak storm had pounded the roof of my dad's car right when he'd turned the ignition. That same rain stopped about the time I stepped out of the car onto the school steps, the sun just about blinding me when a few stray rays bounced off my cellphone face.

Such a drastic change of weather in mere minutes, a clue to the day ahead?

Yes, I just hadn't been aware of it at the time.

I pulled the straps of my backpack closer to my shoulders when I'd noticed the uncharacteristic serenity of the smoothly flowing hallway traffic.

No obnoxious laughter from any direction, not the normal I'd come to know.

The teachers stood further from their doors, smiles and hints of laughter lit up their faces.

I stood in front of my locker studying every inch of its, now smooth, surface.

The magical disappearing dent?

My cellphone alarm beeped. I watched for the cloud of dust and listened for the rumbling of oversized athletic feet that had always cut a path past my locker every morning around this time.

Nothing.

Everything in my head reasoned this experience away as some elaborate dream I'd have to wake up from and face the reality of high school life.

"Ms. Mills, don't be late." The school nurse passed me up.

The rest of the day had gone better than I'd ever expected it to.

Dad's expression when I got into the car had wavered between concern and pleasant shock.

Apparently, high school had been taking away my smile at the end of the day.

"You have your mother's smile." Dad pulled away from the curb.

The brilliant vibrancy of my mother's smile, to me, has always been one of her best assets.

For dad to say that I possess it, made my day that much more unbelievable.

"Thanks dad. Best day ever."

The resident pessimist in my mind tried to rob me of my better mood with dire warnings of a worse day tomorrow.

Normally, I emphasize NORMALLY, the shoe dropped within hours of my best days. If I got lucky, it would take a whole day to catch up with me.

"How does a shake from Granny's sound before we head home?" Dad passed our house, headed for downtown.

I may not always come to him when faced with a crisis, but he'd always had this strange gift of knowing how to make a good day better.

"Sounds great."

At first, everything inside Storybrooke's social central appeared in order. Nothing to ruin the best day I'd had since the first day of my freshman year.

Killian had his arm around Emma's shoulder, Emma's head resting on his arm. Hope licked the thick strawberry malt liquid from the straw, residual malt mixture created a messy mustache.

Behind them a man in his late 30's, early 40's sat across from a shaved teenage head. I hadn't recognized any of them, in passing. Lately, the population had grown.

A quick glimpse of the boy's face sent shocks of "flight" into my legs.

There HE was.

Yep, the other shoe dropped in the one place I hadn't expected it to.

Emma turned around, smiled, waved, and hesitated when she'd caught a glimpse of the kid behind her.

I hustled to the side that only allowed for a view of the back of my head.

Why did I do this?

Emma, the human lie detector and master of prophecy, would have read my face in less than a second.

Baldy, the guy that had intrigued and annoyed me at the same time, would keep his conversation going with the person across from him.

"Hey there, Lucy, I know a good day when I see one." Ruby at the head of the table holding her order pad and pen.

My response had been a low-key nod.

"Okay…." Dad sighed in obvious confusion.

The first thought in my head had been to make an excuse that would grant me an instant out.

"We'll take two strawberry shakes, extra thick. Please, Ruby." Dad eliminated that idea.

Dad leaned back against the booth's cushions and drummed out a four-count beat with his fingers, all while transitioning his gaze from me to the bald kid behind us.

Dad's inquisitive, subtle gaze hadn't burned a hole into me the way that Emma's intuitive, all-knowing smirk did.

"I'll explain later. I promise." I whispered.

I'd kept my head down until after he and the man with him passed us up.

"I'll be right back, dad." I stood up, heading the direction of the bathrooms.

I headed to the darkest stall for reasons unknown, even to me.

"Lucy, the guy wanted me to give you this when he left."

Ruby slid the napkin under the door.

Her footsteps faded into the distance before I picked up the delivery she'd left for me.

I was a jerk Friday morning. I'm sorry. I hope the locker repair makes up for it. By the way, your secret is safe with me. See you around.

That explained the like-new locker door.

Still that hadn't explained the glorious absence of "The Herd."

Who was he, anyway?

Emma walked through the door, Hope in tow.

"I'll be right here Hope." Emma reassured her potty-dancing little girl.

I folded the napkin and placed it in the one place I knew where it would be when I needed it.

"That was him, wasn't it?" Emma crossed her arms.

"Yes. Just with less hair than I remembered him having and no jacket."

Why lie?

"It didn't take much to figure out." Emma divided her attention between me and the stall door.

Emma's arms uncrossed, and her hands rested on my shoulders.

"Better than 'I-told-you-so.'" I looked up.

Emma helped Hope to wash her hands and face at the sink before sending her out the door, where I knew Killian would be waiting to take her little still sticky hand.

"The journey begins. I won't tell Killian he was right, but I'm sure he already knows." Emma kissed my cheek before leaving me standing in front of the mirrors, confused.

Okay, so he's a resident of Storybrooke…makes things a little less complicated.

The question remained…Who was he?