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The smallest patch of sunlight found itself perfectly angled across Carol's eyes. She could feel the heat of the beam, and rolling away from it she almost toppled off her twin sized bed. Catching herself just before she hit the wood floor, she laid on the cool ground in a curled burrito of blankets. It was comfortable enough and she wondered why she never slept on the floor before as her mind began to fuzz and she was lulled back into a dream.

Like an angry prehistoric reptile her alarm clock screeched until it clicked to the preset radio station. A voice called through the static and Carol attempted to wiggle beneath her bed to escape the nagging radio host.

It's a bright, bright, bright and suuuunnnyyyy day! So let's spin around like a record and get up, up, UP!

The irritatingly chirpy voice pulled her up from the floor. Yawning she staggered around the room, sleep still crusted in her eyes and she rubbed at them lazily. She pulled the oversized t-shirt that she slept in over her head, tossing it with tired accuracy at the hamper in the corner. Her closet was small and the door stuck most mornings forcing her to tug it with a hard yank before it would open. Moving subconsciously to the rhythmic top 40 hit, her shoulders bouncing up and down as she browsed the colors and patterns. She pulled out a pair of acid wash jeans that Michonne had attempted to make for her over the summer when she was deep in a DIY phase, but they came out more banged up and faded than anything. Sticking her head through an oversized geometric patterned sweater, her ponytail flopped out at the side of her head in a cascading waterfall of curls that poked out in wry directions.

When she finally made it to the kitchen she found the plate of dinner that she had left for her father still sitting on the table, untouched. She brought it over to the garbage, assuming that her father must have worked late and left early. On one hand it was a good thing that Mr. Jergen gave him so many hours at the store, but Carol worried about him. He rarely ate a whole meal on account of being too tired to lift the fork to his mouth most nights, and the closest he ever came to relaxing was when he'd fall asleep in the old recliner, a half finished beer in his hand and the news channel droning on from the television.

Grabbing her knapsack and an apple she walked towards the bus stop. Chewing down to the core she threw the remains of the apple in the garbage of a house she passed. She stood diligently at the stop, looking up and down the street even though she was fifteen minutes early. She tried to fool herself into thinking it was the bus she was looking for, but really it was the irritable boy with his huffy attitude and angel wings that she was hoping to catch sight of.

It was ridiculous, really, to think that he'd be joining her. What would she even do if he did? Stare at him as neither of them said anything and awkwardly stand around in silence? She couldn't even remember the reason that compelled her to tell him about the bus anyway; the circumstances of the night before felt more distant and murky as each minute passed.

He wasn't coming, she told herself, trying with all her might to put a stopper on the sinking disappointment that was dragging her gut down to her feet. She pulled at her knapsack, intent on digging through it for her Walkman so she could drown out the feeling that she was the most pathetic person on the planet. She stopped as the roaring sound of an engine careened towards her. Puttering down the street, she squinted at the motorcycle gliding through the stop sign at the corner until it halted in front of her.

Straining her lips against a smile, resulting in a pursed tease, she tried to keep her stomach calm before it flip flopped right out onto the sidewalk.

"C'mon," Daryl said, motioning with his head to the seat behind him.

"Really?" her lips broke their barricade, spreading into a full smile as he nodded. She hurried over to him, a slight skip in her step. Steadying the bike with his feet, his upper body turned to watch her attempt to hop on it with grace and poise. Instead her sneaker caught on the seat, a cringing squeak emitting from the slide and she tumbled onto it with a hefty flop.

"Not funny," she muttered as he snorted. She leaned back, her thighs clenching the metal between her.

"I ain't gonna bite," he called over his shoulder and felt behind him for her arm. His fingers circled around her wrist and he pulled her forward. She scooted closer, until her knees hugged his hips and she could comfortably clasp around his torso.

"Do you have a helmet?" she yelled into his ear as he started the engine with a garish purr.

He snickered over the noise, kicking his heel down. The bike lurched, flattening Carol against his back with the momentum.

"You just hold on," he instructed as he weaved the bike through the streets. For the first few minutes Carol refused to loosen her death grip on him, her eyes clenched shut as her forehead dug in between his shoulder blades. As she realized that he was pretty in control of the motorcycle—only tipping it smoothly when they needed to turn—she began to relax. Carol let her head up, feeling the rush of air against her face that caught her hair in a whirlwind. Feeling steadier, she leaned back and removed her arms from around Daryl's waist to hold on to the seat behind her. The exhilaration was almost too much. They were moving at speeds that seemed impossible in the openness that surrounded them and she felt drunk from it. It took all of her control to keep herself from flinging her arms to the side, tilting her head back and letting out the primal yell that scratched at her chest.

"Speed bump!" Daryl yelled and Carol took hold of him as they jostled. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, laughing into the leather of his vest. It all felt incredibly easy.

Maneuvering around the buses lined in front of the school building, Daryl stopped at the main stairs. Carol removed herself from the bike in a much smoother fashion than she had gotten on. When Daryl made no move to follow after her, merely squinting up at her figure as she adjusted her knapsack, Carol narrowed her eyes at him.

"You rode all the way here, you may as well come to class," she suggested sternly.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head, "I gotta get this back before my brother wakes up or he'll kick my head in."

"You stole Merle's bike?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders, wiping at the chrome handlebar.

"Wow," Carol said, her eyes widening in mock adoration, "You are a rebel."

"Pffft," Daryl rolled his eyes, "Stop."

Carol smiled at him, giggling as she shook her head and he let out a light chuckle. "Well…" Carol bit her lip, twisting from side to side as she tried desperately to stretch out the seconds until she had to go inside, "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"You free tonight?" he ducked his head down, mumbling the question to the motorcycle.

"I could be," she answered, her smile unfaltering.

He looked back up at her, his fingers twitching as he clenched and released them nervously, "I'll stop by…if you want me to."

"Alright," she nodded enthusiastically. Catching how eager that may seem she stopped mid-nod and casted her eyes downwards, watching as the toes of her sneakers bumped together.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Alright."

A knotting clump twisted her insides together like tangled branches while the world dimmed under the focus of his blue eyes locking with hers. She shifted on the balls of her feet until he nodded towards the building behind her.

"You should go on in. Don't want you hurling into anyone cause you're late," he teased. She shook her head, watching as he started the motorcycle and left her at the sidewalk. Still smiling, she turned to see Lori, Rick and Shane not too far behind her, watching the entire exchange. Her smile fell as she let out a lumbering air and hurried passed them, careful not to make the eye contact that they were seeking. In her haste, she hadn't noticed Michonne standing a few feet away, her jaw hanging to the floor in a shocked expression that was almost cartoonish.

"Carol!" She shouted, jogging towards her, the chains of her necklaces bouncing against her leather vest.

Stopping just short of the main lobby, Carol turned slowly. She tried to smile but the worrisome look in Michonne's eyes poured guilt over her like molten lava.

"Sorry?" she grimaced.

"Where the hell were you? I thought you were dead. Well, first I thought I was still asleep and having a nightmare because you weren't on the bus, and then I thought you were dead. So imagine my surprise to see you on a motorcycle? Daryl Dixon's motorcycle? Carol, you wouldn't even ride my ten speed down a hill last summer."

"I know!" she floundered under Michonne's wide and wild eyes. "He just kind of showed up this morning at the bus stop and offered me a ride."

Michonne tilted her head, her eyes pinching together as she saw straight through the casualness that Carol attempted to convey.

"Okay," Carol admitted as they reached her locker, "Maybe I also mentioned where I took the bus when I saw him last night."

Michonne clenched her eyes tight, her fingers pressing into her temple as she slowly repeated back to Carol, "You saw him…last night?"

Carol bit her lip, "Well yeah. It wasn't planned! I was with Glenn at Jacqui's and he kind of came in and then walked me home and we talk—"

"Maybe I am dreaming," Michonne said to herself, pinching at her forearm, "Because in the real world Daryl Dixon doesn't just go to Jacqui's to hang out with you and your teeny tiny neighbor."

Carol shrugged, pushing her knapsack into the overcrowded locker space, "I don't know what to tell you 'Chonne. But that's how I ended up on his motorcycle this morning. It probably won't ever happen again so don't worry, I won't be stranding you to take the bus alone anytime soon."

"That's the least of my worries," Michonne muttered. Carol rolled her eyes as she slammed the locker. She hadn't noticed the hulking size of a rather large boy that had decided to lean against the locker next hers. She jumped from the surprise of seeing him, and heard Michonne snarl under her breath.

"Ladies," the boy smiled, addressing them both but his gaze was locked on Carol.

"Hi Ed," she greeted, her voice straining to be as polite as possible.

"Big game Friday night," he pulled at his expertly cleaned letterman jacket as he looked her over. He was attractive in his own right, muscular and wide making him the perfect linebacker. There was something about him though that filled Carol with dread. Maybe it was the way that he had hounded her for a date for the past year, which she diligently and reliably declined only to have his wolfish smile follow after her. He never seemed phased by her rejection, always following up with another proposal a few weeks later.

"Oh, is it?" she feigned ignorance. Football was a pretty big deal in their small town. Not like it was in other areas but a high school football game meant that there was actually something to do for a night and most of the town turned up for it.

He chuckled, belittling her as he shook his head, "Always with the jokes. C'mon Carol, let me take you to dinner before the game."

She forced out a soft laugh, taking a step back from him. The tension that Michonne drew into her muscles, her face terse and glaring, kept her still even as Carol bumped against her.

"We weren't really planning on going to the game, Ed. Sorry," Carol kept her tone affable, almost smiling with a hint of regret as she turned him down.

Ed just smiled, his teeth sharp and gleaming, "I have a feeling you'll change your mind by morning. I'll ask again tomorrow." He winked at her, his cloudy eyes narrowing as he flicked his gaze at Michonne. He walked passed them, whistling a tune as he retreated down the hall.

"One day you're going to let me kick his ass," Michonne scowled.

"No, I'm not," Carol stepped away from her, walking calmly towards homeroom.

Michonne followed after her, "You're too nice to him, Carol. You have to be meaner or he's never going to quit."

"So he keeps asking me out and I'll keep saying no. It's not a big deal," she shrugged, avoiding Michonne's searching looks.

"Why even put up with that? Wouldn't you rather he just leave you alone?!"

"Of course I do, but you know I can't. I have to be at least kind to him, otherwise…" Carol trailed off, and Michonne bitterly acquiesced with an unhappy groan.

"It's bullshit," Michonne muttered.

Carol grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. They promised to see each other at lunch as they always did before Carol turned into her homeroom.