Author's NoteI hope you guys enjoy this chapter! If it's boring, I'm sorry, but hang on with it because it will get better! If you don't think this is boring, then you're in luck because it will be even better for you! Read and review, leave constructive thoughts, and perhaps check out my completed works? It's all up to you!

A knock on her door woke her up from her sleep. The sun was shining warmly in her room, making her feel cozy. She was truly a morning person. Nora walked into the room and smiled down at her daughter.

"You feel better? Calmer?" Casey sat up and smiled sweetly at her mom.

"Yeah. I think I over-reacted yesterday. It really wasn't a big deal."

"Yeah, well, I can understand why you break down like that. I used to be like that. Just breathe and walk away. You don't need to listen to a word he says. He does it just to get under your skin and when you let it sink in and make you mad, he wins."

"You're right. He wins. He always does. He doesn't care about anyone but himself." She scoffed.

"So, try not to let it bother you and it won't. He may not quit, but at least you won't be hurt by it." Nora smiled wisely at her teenage daughter. Casey felt twisted and morphed so completely strangely, without any consciousness as to the way things were, or how they should be. It would be so much easier to be someone else, with another family, other memories, other ex-boyfriends, and less mysterious admirers. It's not like I bite. Or do I? Maybe I really am scary. I do freak out. I freak out a lot. I am scary!

Nora kissed Casey's forehead and handed her a letter. Casey looked down, and it had no return address. Nora left the room.

"I thought he/she was going to leave it Friday? Maybe they happened to walk by my house and saw it…" She spoke quietly to herself. Quickly opening it, and unfolding the letter, she saw the rose on the floor out of the corner of her eye. A sad pang hit her heart, realizing she had forgotten to it in a vase. It was probably dead, though the petals still looked in tact.

Casey set the letter on the bed and went downstairs to find something to put the rose in, in an attempt to save it. A vase was atop the fridge. She tried standing on her tip toes to get the vase, but she was too short. A feeling of defeat hit her, and she went to find a stool of some sort. Derek walked past her, nudging her shoulder.

Casey rolled her eyes and blew it off like her mom told her to. Derek entered the kitchen and looked up at the top of the fridge, and then peered back at Casey.

"Were you trying to get something from up there?" He pointed upwards. She bent downwards, looking under the table for a stool still.

"Yeah. I needed the vase. Why?" There wasn't an answer but Casey didn't notice the silence. She looked in a closet, and still no stool.

"Here." Casey turned to see Derek holding the vase out to her. She was taken back, and didn't grab the vase. "This is what you wanted right?"

"Yeah." She took the vase and filled it with water. Derek went to sit at the TV. Her eyes peered at what he was watching.

Women's Volleyball. How typical.

"Thanks Derek." Casey said softly as she headed for the stairs.

"You don't need to thank me. All I did was grab the vase off the fridge because you're so short."

"Well, thanking you is common courtesy something that-"Casey stopped herself. Once again she was leading herself into a fight with him. He did something nice and she was going to ruin it over the smallest thing. Derek looked expectantly at her. She smiled and said, "In any case. Thanks."

Casey placed the rose in the vase gently, and looked at it for a few moments, contemplating. It was one of the reasons she loved white roses. They make you think, and they look warm and cold at the same time.

The letter called out to her in an ambient voice of curiosity. Without hesitation to the calling, she read the entire letter.

Dear Casey,

Thanks for responding so quickly. I was afraid you'd end up over thinking what your reply should be. I'm not a female, sorry if it bothered you not knowing that at first. I'm not forty-million years old! I'm only a few months older than you, and in the same grade, twelfth.

I wouldn't want to say anything about me that would give me away, so I'll say things that you REALLY won't know. When I have an overwhelming emotion, I write in an online journal so I don't end up showing how I really feel. I like acting, which I plan to do in the future. My scholastic achievements are far too little. I want to do better, but I'm not smart enough to keep up, so I get discouraged. Honestly, I gave up a while ago. I admire that you are so smart and can keep up.

So tell me about you. I know a lot about you, I believe, and would love to hear what you think I don't know.

Leave your letter in the crook of the garage door. I pass your house every day because I go to the church down your street.

No Name.

Casey smiled. In truth, she was glad it was a boy, because the idea of having a secret admirer made her feel loved. He was into acting, even though he wasn't dedicated to schoolwork, and he admitted to being a typical male. Not wanting to show their feelings. That's pretty much every male on the planet. Of course there are some exceptions, but a good majority is aggressive and secretive. Who could this be?

Deciding that she would write back immediately, she pulled out a piece of paper from her desk.

Dear No Name,

It's fantastic you are into acting; in fact I am into it as well. I also love dancing. A lot of people don't know this but I like drawing as well. I only draw when I have a strong emotion which could be in the form of stress, or sadness, or when it comes to my step-brother –anger.

There are a lot of things that I could say about myself, but if you asked a more specific question I could tell you something you wanted to know…unless of course it was too personal.

I guess I could tell you about my home life. You probably don't know that much about it unless you've talked to Derek or Emily My mom is wonderful and she's married to my step-dad George. He lives up to his not-so-funny nickname George Clueless. Marti is the cutest thing, but she throws a lot of temper tantrums. I imagine her to be a true individual in the future. My sister Lizzie is into sports, and though I support her, it's not my thing. Edwin is my younger step-brother who will probably be a businessman in the future. And then there's Derek. The bane of my existence. He's not a terrible person; he's just terrible to me.

How's your home life?

Casey.

She let out a sigh as her hand started to cramp. Lizzie opened the door and walked in. Casey looked at her, confused, as she shut the door behind her.

"Are you okay Kiddo?" She sat up to better converse with Lizzie.

"Yeah. Just confused." Lizzie sat down on the computer chair with a loud thunk.

"About what Sweetie?"

"Why are guys so stupid?"

"Is this something about Jamie?" Lizzie looked away.

"Yeah!" She faced the ceiling in frustration. Casey was concerned.

"Tell me about it Hun."

"He doesn't want me to play a sport with him while he's playing with his brothers. Apparently his family thinks I'm weird for liking sports because I am a girl."

"His family? Does Jamie feel that way too?"

"No, but he's sure not defending me. He's a jerk!"

"Oh, Lizzie he's a little kid. Are they all the brothers older than him?"

"One is younger, but he could have at least tried!" Casey put an arm around her sister.

"I know what you mean. Did you talk to him about it?" There was a pause.

"No." Lizzie looked down, defeated. "What if he won't listen?"

"Well at least try to give it a shot. Couldn't hurt, could it?" Lizzie smiled Casey, and there was an understanding between them. She loved her little sister so much. A huge part of her knew they would always be there for one another.

"You're right. I'll talk to him. You're the best!" Lizzie walked out of the room quickly, and shut the door. Casey took a few moments to compose herself and folded the letter, and then headed out her door, nearly running into Derek.

"Watch it!" Derek yelled out. Casey pursed her lips and then stormed past him before she broke into scream.

Five minutes later, the letter was placed in a sealed envelope in the crook of the garage door.