By the next morning, I was still furious. Who does that arrogant, presumptuous asshole think he is? He doesn't know me at all, so he who is he to judge me or what I do?

I cut when I got home. It was mostly out of anger, but I knew that deep down inside, it was because he was right. My depression is so superficial. Do I really want to die because I think I'm hideous?

No, it's more than that. He's so. . .

Ahh! There goes that feeling in my chest again. It's a fury that comes from deep in my stomach and goes all the way up to my chest, like heartburn.

When I thought back to yesterday, I don't regret hitting him. I know I should, but when I get angry, I just think that he deserved it. But yesterday, after I cut, I did regret hitting him. He didn't say anything that wasn't true, I thought at the time.

I'm just a confusion of emotions. One moment I'm angry and the next (usually after a good old cut) I feel fine and even a little remorseful.

But right now, I just feel angry. I mean of course there's more to my depression than just superficiality. I yearn to be someone else, more than anything in this world. Someone who has talent and intrinsic value as a human being. Basically someone who has purpose in this world.

I have no purpose. I don't know why I was created, which is why, long ago, I stopped believing in God. No benevolent God could be this cruel. Why would He create someone who has no purpose in living; who lives day by day wishing she could disappear?

And so now, sitting here in Western Civilization II, I feel more depressed than ever. Thinking about my purposeless life always puts me down here where no one can reach me. Where I don't want to be reached.

But I can't cut here. No, I've given up on the whole affair of cutting in class. I would not have another "Jayden incident" happen.

I couldn't concentrate in class. I couldn't even concentrate in Psychology. I didn't know why, but I kept thinking about Jayden. He interested me and I couldn't fathom why. I was furious at him for being so bold with me, but he was a mysterious fellow and I've always liked a good mystery; at least when it comes to people.

Actually truth be told, I've never liked a mystery, especially when it comes to people. I always like to know what I'm looking forward to when I meet someone. However, with Jayden, I just don't know what to expect. I mean he's trying to help me, a complete stranger, for hidden reasons that I just don't comprehend. And those hidden reasons (because I'm sure he has ulterior motives for helping me) make me extremely uncomfortable. I wanted to find out more about him.

So when I got home from class, I went to the only place where you can find out more about a person without directly asking them: Facebook.

I made one after a silly argument I had with Jo. I didn't want to make one, but she argued "What if a guy wants to get to know you and he looks you up on Facebook and you don't have one? There goes a shot with a potentially great guy!"

I did it to shut her up, but I really didn't want one. I didn't think I would get many friends on my list, but actually I had a fair amount. People that I didn't talk to in school suddenly wanted me to be their friend on Facebook. In the cyber social world it's quantity, not quality, that counts.

So naturally, I went on Facebook and typed his name and the school we went to in the search query. I didn't think it would be difficult; I mean, how many Jayden's can there possibly be? That's not a very common name.

Turns out, I was right. The first picture I saw was of a boy with beautiful blue eyes and short, dark hair. The name said Jayden Anthony D'Lorenzo.

Nice name, I thought.

At least compared to mine it was. I hate my name. Annabel Camilla Santana doesn't even have a nice flow. I don't know what drugs my parents were on when they decided to name me, but I'll surely have to get some of them.

I clicked on his profile, and lucky for me, it wasn't partly private. It was completely exposed for the world to see. I read his "wall" first. It had people I never heard of calling him JD. One girl even spelled it "jaydee."

But when I went to his pictures, my heart began to beat a little faster. He looked breathtaking in his pictures. His eyes were so intense. I don't even remember his eyes being this beautiful.

You do have a bad memory when it comes to people though, I thought.

His smile was gorgeous, of course. If everything else was handsome, why wouldn't his smile be great too, I thought wryly.

He looked so happy in these pictures. In one picture, he was obviously caught in the moment with his friends. They were all smiling at each other. He was smiling at some girl.

What the hell? Why does he have so many girl friends?

I quickly logged off and backtracked a little. Why would I even care if he has so many girl friends? He could have a million of them and I shouldn't care. Hell, he could have a girlfriend and I shouldn't care.

But I couldn't lie to myself. My subconscious knows the truth and the truth is that I'm attracted to him. I'm attracted to the mystery he presents and obviously I'm attracted to his very self.

So I logged back on and went on his page again. This time, I looked with more clarity, instead of with mad anticipation. I went to his bio and read what he wrote:

The name's Jayden, JD for the impatient. There's not a whole lot to say about me, except that I love music. I play the guitar and the piano. I dabble in singing a bit. I'm the guitarist for a band that my friends and I created.

And that's where he ended it. I looked at his interests (which is basically music) and at the bands he liked. I've heard of some of them, but most of them are only recognizable to their mothers.

But what did catch my eye was the fact that he was in a band. Right now, I'd like nothing more than to have his music lullaby me to sleep. My heart was beating fast. I felt the initial anger from yesterday and this morning fade away and, now, I just felt enamored. In the mildest way, of course. I wasn't actually in love with him (for Christ sake, I've only known him for four days!), but I do feel myself becoming obsessed with him despite having known him for so little time.

I also started to feel remorse. I regret hitting him so hard. I know it was hard because my hand hurt after I did so. Poor guy. I hope I didn't leave a bruise.

So the next time English meets I am in class early waiting for Jayden to walk in. My leg is shaking in anticipation. Now that I know that I like him, I feel nervous seeing him. But I know I have to apologize for my actions. Well, I don't have to, but I desperately want to. I don't want him to dislike me all because my anger can't control itself.

Person after person kept walking in, but no Jayden. When my professor came in, Jayden still wasn't here. Worst, someone has taken the seat next to mine; Jayden's seat.

Unfortunately, the professor began lecture without Jayden being here. Like yesterday, I couldn't concentrate one bit, but today, it was for different reasons. Today, I felt an odd hollow in chest, like if something were missing. I couldn't breathe correctly.

How is it possible that I've only known him for a couple of days and I already miss him when he isn't here?

I didn't like this feeling at all, so I tried to concentrate on the "interesting" lecture, but somewhere in my chest, I felt a missing piece.

When Professor Rea was deep into his lecture, the door suddenly opens. In comes Jayden and I feel my heart start to beat again as if it weren't beating this entire time. He sits far away from me, at the only available seat, and I stare at him. He doesn't even gift me with one glance.

Throughout the lecture, I kept staring at Jayden. He never looked back at me.

When class was over, Jayden just swiftly walked out; just as swiftly as he'd done the day I cut in class. I walked briskly, but not pushing anyone, through the crowd of students heading for the door. When I finally walked out, I looked to my left and I didn't see Jayden anywhere. However, I felt someone grab my right wrist and I quickly turned around hoping, knowing, it was him.

"Please don't hit me," said his deep, attractive voice.

"Jayden, I am so sorry for hit-"

"Let's go outside and talk"

He let go of my wrist and walked ahead of me. I just knew he was angry at me. I mentally kicked myself for ever having hit him in the first place.

Once outside, he went straight to the bench we sat at the last time. He sat down and I sat down next to him. Outside, I could see a light purplish bruise on his nose. I felt miserable.

"I am so sorry for hitting you. I've been beating myself up about it this whole time. You really didn't deserve it"

"Well, I don't know if I deserved getting hit or not, but I shouldn't have said that to you. I didn't mean it"

"Jayden, I know you meant it. You don't have to lie. I'm the one who should be doing all the apologizing"

"No really, I didn't mean it. I was just so. . . so anxious knowing that I couldn't do anything to stop you from cutting right then and there"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything"

"Why do you care so much?"

He looked down for a moment and then looked at me again. He grabbed my hands in his larger ones and said, "I care because I don't want anyone to suffer the way you are"

I couldn't breathe. He was touching my hands. My heart didn't skip beats, it just completely stopped beating. I was really into this guy, wasn't I?

"You have a good heart"

Without letting go of my hands, he laughed and said, "No, I just have a fucked up life. I don't wouldn't want anyone to suffer the way I have"

Suddenly a wave a sympathy and curiosity washed over me. He has a fucked up life? What could have possibly happened to this beautiful boy to make him so good? And more than that, why would any suffering make you go Mother Theresa? Shouldn't it have had the opposite effect?

I didn't know what to say, so instead he let go my hands and spoke, "You have a good arm on you"

I half-laughed and touched his nose with my cold hands. He flinched under my touch.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Doc said it should heal just fine"

I panicked, "You went to a doctor?"

"I was kidding, Ann"

I laughed warily, but I couldn't help but like when he called me Ann. It was a nickname; it was intimate.

I decided then and there that I would stop being stubborn and accept his help after all. I didn't really care about myself, that was a lost cause, but I just wanted to spend time with him. I haven't had a crush in so long and I'd never spoken to the guys of my fantasies anyway. This time, we talk, and not even because I force him to! He wants to speak to me. And I've never felt more content.