A/N: This next chapter will be in Chase's POV. I hope you guys don't mind! I just want to show you all what Chase is thinking at this point in the story. Enjoy!

The moment I saw that silly-grinned, stubborn, high-and-mighty farmer, I knew we weren't going to get along. And for the life of me, I couldn't remember her name.

"I'm sorry, what's your name again? Amy, or whatever? I can't cook with you breathing down my freakin' neck. Could you go somewhere else?"

Okay, so I knew the comment was pretty harsh… but what could you expect? I was a harsh person.

Today was my second day back in Waffle Town. For the past ten years, I have been living in the city. In an orphanage, of all places. Let's rewind a little bit, shall we?

I was born here and stayed until I was ten years old. My parents and I lived in a small house next to the Meringue Clinic. My father was an artist in all senses of the word and he sold his paintings, sculptures, and etc. to the people of Waffle Town. I loved this town with all of my heart when I was little, until we had to move away.

The shop wasn't doing good business, and my father really thought that moving to the city was a better idea. I was young at the time, and I believed my parents when they said we would visit as often as we could.

But he was right. The paintings sold for a lot more than they had in Waffle Town, and my parents were very happy with their good decision. It wasn't until they took a train to the downtown area to meet with a potential buyer that they died in a train wreck. My stomach still drops every time I think of the day.

I remember the moment perfectly. My fingers and toes prickled in an odd fashion and a metallic taste filled my mouth. The voices of important-looking men were harsh and unforgiving as they told me what happened. I couldn't even register half of the things that these men were saying; all I could think about was the many unused canvases that my father was so excited to fill up with beautiful scenery. And the orange smoothie I had promised to make for my mother when she came home. Oranges were her favorite food.

"You're going to have to come with us." One of the men said, taking my arm. With as much force as I could, I ripped my arm away from him. I remember screaming the word 'no', but I don't remember hearing it. After that, it gets fuzzy for me. My memory has never been a strong quality of mine.

Next thing I know, I'm in an orphanage called The Seeds of Hope. Though, they should have called it The Seeds of the Devil, in my honest opinion. The children there were wordless and cruel. The owner of the orphanage was an obese and rude man who went by the name Charles. I hated him with every fiber of my being.

The initial shock I had felt after they died didn't subside for years. I would spend days thinking about it, wondering what would have happened if we never left our old home. Or wondering what would have happened if they buyer came to them, instead of them going to the buyer. The train would have been wrecked, but they wouldn't have been on it. I would be enjoying a home-cooked meal with my parents instead of sitting on a cold floor, wondering when the hell I would get out of there.

The only sensible person in the joint was a lady named Sheila. She was the cook, and prepared meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She was sarcastic and hilarious, and we clicked very well. After a few years of being in the orphanage, I was in the kitchen constantly, helping her peel potatoes or cut onions. After a while, she let me take over the reins; I was the one cooking all the meals. And secretly, she started to pay me for it.

"You're going to go places, kid," She told me once, wagging a spoon in my general direction, "Trust me. I know talent when I see it."

By the time I was eighteen, I was allowed to graduate from the hellhole and get my own place. Thankfully, with all of the money I had saved up from working in the kitchen, I could buy myself an apartment. It was tiny, and it resided in the slums of the city… but it was my own.

Immediately I sent out flyers, advertisements, and etc. to publicize my cooking expertise. Unluckily for me, there wasn't a ton of takers. That's when I remembered Waffle Town. Now, my memory has failed me on a lot of things, but one thing I remember and will remember indefinitely was my old address: 104 East Belgium Lane. I quickly scribbled the address onto a crumpled envelope and I sent out a plea for help. I explained my predicament and attached one of my many ads before sending it out and praying that someone reads it.

Weeks passed. Months. Years. Part of me doubted that anyone ever read it, for I sent it to a house that may be unoccupied. It wasn't until just a little while ago that I got a response from Jake at the Sundae Inn. I had a job.

Selling my apartment and packing up a few possessions, I was going back home. Although, one question that nagged me was: Why didn't they ask me back sooner?

I'll tell you why. They needed a last minute replacement. Their old cook, Sam or something, quit abruptly and moved out of town. Now, who was just desperate enough to move all the way to Waffle Town, and had a bit of cooking experience? Why, me, of course.

How do I know all of this, you ask? While passing by my old house, I took a look inside the mailbox. You know, out of curiosity and junk. There was my letter, crumpled and ripped open. The advertisement was gone. At first, I figured that they just opened it recently and sent me the letter asking me to come home, but slowly I began to put the pieces together. They opened the letter a while ago, probably a few years back, and didn't do shit about it until they needed more staff. When I finally confronted Jake about all of this, he didn't even deny it. That stupid prick.

"Hmph." Came a noise from next to me. It was the farm girl. Was she really still here? Almost as if on cue, she turned around and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Allison?" I called after her. She turned around, looking like she was expecting me to say something nice. Screw that. "Tell Jake we're out of tomatoes."

She glared at me angrily, as if she was ready to slap me with the worst insult she could think up.

"Uh, what's the magic word?"

I almost wanted to laugh out loud, but I just wasn't in the mood for it.

"…Now?"

Instead of doing my simple favor, she huffs her chest out and pushes open the door.

"Hey! Wait! Ariel!" Yes, Ariel sounded about right. Again, she turned around and opened her mouth wide,

"It's Angela!"

Ariel, Angela. Potato, potah-to. Did it really matter?

I continued to rigorously stir the stew that I was making for my lunch, still heated about all of this nonsense. So, they hired me here because I can cook relatively well, and because I was desperate enough to sell my apartment to move here for good? Awesome. I was so glad to know that little tidbit. Just as I began to pour the stew into a bowl, the door opened. I swear, if it was that cranky chick again, I would blow my lid off. I was obviously not in the mood to play name games.

But it wasn't her. It was Maya. My childhood crush. Almost as if I had never left, my heart began to beat rapidly like it had when I was nine years old, playing tag with her at the Brownie Ranch.

"Hello!" She greeted me, holding out a cake that looked… well, it looked disgusting. But it was her. "You're Chase, right? My name is Maya! Nice to meet you!"

She didn't even remember me. I narrowed my eyes at her, thinking that maybe if she got a good look at me she would recollect the memories in her mind. But she just stood there with a goofy grin on her face and her hand outstretched. I ignored the hand. So Jake and Colleen didn't even tell her about me, and how I used to live here? God, this place was so screwed up.

"Would you like to try my cake?" She asked, holding it out. Uneasily, I took the fork and stuck it into the cake before bringing it to my mouth. Immediately, I ran to the sink to spit it out.

"Oh god," I mumbled as I wiped my mouth, "What kind of ingredients were those? Too bitter, and way too crumbly. Bleck, I can't get the taste out of my mouth now."

Without notice, she dropped the cake onto the floor and ran out of the Inn looking upset. Serves her right.

But something inside of me still felt that burning sensation deep inside of my chest when I caught a glance at her. I tried my hardest to shake it off before grabbing my stew and heading towards the table to eat in silence.

After a while, things began to get unbearable around Maya. She was always prancing around, constantly laughing about something and just being this downright cheery freak. And the worst part is: she was ignoring me! Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore. If she didn't talk to me, I didn't know what I would do. I was practically in love with her back then, for Goddess's sakes! And now that it was eating away at me, I had to do something.

Soon, I found out that Angela was her best friend. Perfect. All I had to do was convince her with my boyish charm and she would definitely help me out.

But that plan failed as soon as I thought it up. Boyish charm? What is wrong with me? I practically sneak attack her, insult her, and then blurt out that I like Maya and that she should help me. She said no.

Plan B: Find someone else willing to help me. Searching through the townspeople in my head that I had met so far, I'm pretty sure none of them were friends with Maya. And I wasn't about to ask Prick-Face McSonofabitch. I mean… her dad.

So I did what I do best: beg. I did her morning chores for her, I caught her bait for fishing, I did everything I could! Until finally, I presented her a cake for Thanksgiving that she obviously loved so much that she had to say yes. Okay, so I did threaten to pester her for the rest of her life, but still.

Thus began planning. We met at her house in the morning to discuss what we were going to do, when, how, and all of that junk. Somehow, we came up with Plan: Get Maya to Like Chase Attempt #1, which included Angela spying and me making up some lame excuse to have lunch with Maya.

It was a failure. Completely. So, we tried again. This time, I sucked it up and asked her on a date. Well, sort of. Angela did the asking, but… I did the talking! We had fun, I have to admit, and before I knew it I was acting like a twelve-year-old with his first girlfriend. Even though she was my first girlfriend, if you could consider her that.

And then there was the Starry Night Festival. Going out on a limb, I asked her to accompany me to watch the stars on that night, and she gladly accepted. She bounded upstairs and I did my little victory dance (I am a pro at the victory dance) and headed outside. That's when I ran into Toby.

"Hey Chase," He greeted me, "You look awfully happy today."

"I suppose I am." I realized, scratching my chin a bit.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, swinging his fishing pole around lazily. Where didn't he take that thing? Was he constantly going fishing?

"I just asked Maya to the Starry Festival, and she said yes." I replied calmly. No sense in hiding why I was happy at the moment. It was a rare occasion.

"Awesome! Yeah, I asked Angela this morning and she said yes too. Hey, we should go together!" He replied way too enthusiastically. And for some reason, I was taken aback by this statement. By no means was I jealous (why would I be? I had Maya), but something about it was just… unnerving. Especially after last night.

We ended up staying up until very late, rehearsing what I would say to Maya. And it was actually fun. It was the first time I had had fun in such a long time that I actually begged her to stay when she was half-asleep. But the weirdest part of the night was when she told me to pretend she was Maya.

"That's, um… that's a very nice… dress?" I remember choking out, stumbling over my words like I had just learned a new language. She frowned and shook her head at me.

"Wrong, wrong. You have to be confident about this! Don't say 'Uh, I guess I like your dress. Kind of.' Or else she won't buy it."

I sighed, wondering how I could just pretend she was someone else. It was very difficult to muster when I had so much on my mind.

"That dress looks beautiful on you." I stuttered, shoving my hands into my pockets and looking away in embarrassment,

"Nope, wrong. You sound like someone's stabbing you in the leg while you're talking to me. I'm Maya, not Angela! Say it like you mean it!" She yelled at me as she took my shoulders and shook them violently. I let out an elongated breath and closed my eyes for a second before opening them. It was hard to convince myself that Angela wasn't really Angela, but when I just let go of my inhibitions, it came easier. Sort of.

"Um, all right." I began, taking a huge breath. "You look very beautiful today…"

And she did. But this was 'Maya' I was talking to. The bizarre vibes I was getting from Angela that night kind of freaked me out. But when I slept on it, it didn't feel as weird. We were just becoming friends, right? I haven't had many friends in my life, and it was probably just a strange feeling.

"Oh? You asked Angela?" I inquired, pretending to be interested.

"Sure did!"

"Well, yeah, we could go together." I thought over. I mean, it couldn't hurt, right? And Angela would be right there to pinch me when I did something wrong.

"Cool!"

Oh boy, did I regret that decision.

We had just finished the dinner I had so carefully prepared for the night, when Toby opens his mouth and shoots out this gem:

"What do you call a fish without an eye? A fshhh!"

Not only was that the worst joke I ever heard, but also Maya actually thought it was funny! Either that, or she was really, really good at acting. And then he busts out with this philosophical crap about the stars and all I can think is: Barf.

All the while, I'm scooting closer to Maya, trying to 'make a move', if you will. After all, I looked next to me to see that Toby was holding Angela's hand, and they hadn't even been on a date yet! Or had they? Sometimes I forget that I've only been living in Waffle Town for one season.

When the clock struck ten, we all stood and dusted off our pants. Angela immediately grabbed onto Toby's arm and asked him to walk her home. Again: Barf.

"Hey, let's talk." Maya said quietly from next to me. I nodded and smiled as we began to walk towards the Sundae Inn, taking a different route that Toby and Angela took. Immediately, I grabbed her hand and she almost freezes with nerves.

"What's up?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

"I, um, I have to tell you something." She began, and I could feel my heart swell uncomfortably. So many possibilities whirled through my mind that I became dizzy.

"Okay," I willed her to go on, feeling her hand wriggle in my grasp. She must really be nervous.

"Well, uh, I… I don't… agh, this is hard." She began uneasily, "I don't l-like you. In that way."

Immediately, I let go of her hand. I was definitely not expecting that. Suddenly, I grew very irate.

"What do you mean?" I asked menacingly. She gnawed at her bottom lip, looking like a child who just got reprimanded.

"I'm really, really sorry." She said in a guilty voice. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, sure." I muttered.

"Really! I don't know why… I just can't. I feel so bad."

My ass. What a fake.

"So why'd you say yes to me? You thought you'd 'humor' me a little? You're ridiculous." I seethed before leaving her in the middle of the Maple Lake District, completely alone. Screw it if she gets attacked by a pack of wild bunny rabbits. Before I even knew what was going on, I was heading to Angela's house. Not walking, either. I was sprinting.

By the time I got close to her house, I noticed Toby and her standing at the doorstep. Kissing. What the hell!? When the pulled away, he waved goodbye to her and bounded in the opposite direction of me. God, this night has been the worst.

Slowly, I approached her house. Feeling livid, miserable, and now a little disturbed, I knocked on the door.

I spilled to her the whole story. She was the first villager I had told about being an orphan, other than the ones that already knew. Most people I know would have waved it off as stupid or childless to be angry with Jake and Colleen about what had happened, but she said the one thing I wasn't expecting.

"I believe you."

And I replied with the only words I could think of,

"Thank you."

A pregnant silence filled the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was… rather pleasant. I exhaled deeply, feeling my fingers quake and my heart thump boisterously. I was still in shock from everything Maya had just told me. Like father, like daughter, I suppose.

"So, you're… you're an orphan?" She asked in an unusually frail voice. I sighed, rifling my fingers through my obnoxiously untamed hair.

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"… They died in a train wreck. Rather suddenly, actually. They had just left to go downtown and then these two men came to tell me… well, to tell me what happened."

Her eyes grew inflamed with raw emotion.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You really don't deserve it." She commented, staring off into space. How did she know what I deserved or what I didn't deserve? I was a bad person. Harsh. Rude. How could she say I didn't deserve it?

"What do you mean by that?"

"That you don't deserve it? Well, you were young, right? You should have never been put in that position."

"I… I guess you're right."

"What were they like? Your parents, I mean."

"My father was an artist. He was extremely hard working, and he had a lot of , and blonde, I think. My mom was just a regular stay-at-home mom… from what I remember; she was extremely considerate of everyone else. I like to think that if she were still alive, she wouldn't have burned out like a lot of people do. I think she was one of those people who would have stayed selfless regardless of whatever she had been through." I told her. I smiled in reminiscence. It's true that I couldn't remember their faces, but their personalities… I'm sure no one could forget something like that. She smiles, too, but doesn't say anything.

Again, the silence entered the room as I tapped my restless fingers on the wooden table. I was sick of talking about these depressing topics. All I wanted to do was get off the subject of my past and/or Maya. I just wasn't entirely comfortable with it.

"So… you and Toby?" I asked, scratching the back of my head. She immediately turned pink.

"No, no. It's nothing."

"Nothing, huh? What I saw a few minutes ago certainly wasn't nothing."

"You creep! You were spying on us?" She exclaimed, flinging her hands into the air like a wild animal as she stood from her chair. I laughed at her.

"I definitely wasn't spying. I just happened to be walking towards your house when I saw it… that's all! And I'm not a creep!"

"Yes, you are. You're a creep." She replied with a very sly smirk on her face as I stood as well, placing my turbulent hands on the table with a clang. Inching my face closer to hers, I whispered,

"Well, that means you're a jerk."

"Whatever, Mr. High-and-Mighty."

"Stubborn witch!"

"Arrogant air head!"

"Rotten loser!"

"Insensitive prick!"

We didn't even notice that our foreheads were practically touching.

"Twisted freak!"

"Inconsiderate moron!"

Gazing intently at each other for a few moments, her eyes filled with something I had never seen before as she grabbed the back of my head, lacing her fingers into my hair. With force, she pushed her lips against mine, sending me reeling into a daze that I couldn't quite snap myself out of.

A/N: Aw, don't you just love them? Heh, I was really excited to write this chapter. It will go back to Angela's POV next chapter, don't worry. I just wanted to give you a little snippet of what Chase was thinking, and some extra scenes that Angela didn't see. Hope you enjoyed!