Hey guys:) So I totally understand if none of you are reading my stories right now since I haven't uploaded in a while...I know, pretty infuriating of me since I have to put up feeble excuses for not posting this sooner:p

Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm getting delayed in posting because I'm trying to write a book:p Yup, an actual book with my own characters and all that stuff. And in reality, it's really hard:/ Hahaha:))

MAJOR WILKIE/DAPHNE IN THIS CHAPTER! I didn't edit much so I think there might be typos and errors here. Sorry about that!

My twitter's kayladelion so if you want to follow me...go ahead!

I won't delay you any longer! Just a disclaimer and then you can read on~

DISCLAIMER: I will never own Switched at Birth *sigh*

BAY

I lay down as fire rained

That was as far as I had ever gotten.

My mind was still reeling from my encounter with Emmett two days ago. Pathetic right? Not being able to get over a guy after three months of being over. But then again, when was I ever the classy one?

Regina had come over yesterday, smack in the middle of Mom and Daphne's cooking time. I was staring morosely at them, picking out my split ends and sighing when Regina had barged in, looking breathless and holding packages under her arms.

"Good morning everyone!" She had said cheerfully

Mom had looked flustered but she quickly recovered herself and smiled back brightly at my biological mother. "Good morning Regina. Are you here to join me and Daphne's cook-off?"

We're making sweet potato casserole. Daphne had said enthusiastically, a bright orange splatter on her apron. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail but little tendrils stuck to her sweaty face. She and Mom had looked so much alike that I had been looking at them jealousy for the past hour or so.

Regina waved her free hand. "Oh no. I can't cook anything, always burning the food! I was here for Bay, actually. I had a little free time and I was wondering whether you'd like me to show you how to sketch,"

I had sat up, intrigued. This was one of the rare moments that Regina had actually reached out to me. I had lost hope of her ever teaching me how to draw and it had surprised me that she still remembered. That gave me a little spark inside and I quickly said yes. Somehow we had ended up in my garage. She had given me a medium-sized sketchbook and soft lead pencils. She had brought her old sketchbook along and I had flipped through the drawings, becoming more and more entranced with each sketch. She did sketches of Daphne, Adrianna and even Ty. She did self-portraits and still life, the latter looking so real that it was almost as if it was drawn in 3D. It was amazing.

While she was showing me how to sketch, we talked about everything. It was funny because once we started talking, everything just poured out. I asked her about Angelo and while she found it hard to talk about him, she still answered most of my questions. She asked me about Ty and I told her that he had written to me recently, telling me about what he was doing in their base camp. She told me about her high-school and college days, her dreams of once becoming an artist and a gallery owner and her days with Daphne. In turn, I told her about living with my mom and dad, my trivial fights with Toby and how I never seemed to get algebra. She had laughed at that one, telling me that I had inherited my lack of math skills from her.

She had asked me about Emmett.

I had surprised myself. I told her everything that happened. I had cried when I told her about me breaking up with him and she paused in her sketching for a little while and held me in her arms.

It felt…nice.

In the end, she advised me to take up a new hobby, to take my mind off Emmett. I was doubtful at that since she suggested sports like volleyball and swimming but she quickly caught on that I wasn't athletic. She suggested designing clothes and sewing but she dismissed that idea when she saw my expression. Finally, she told me about channeling my pent-up emotions and anger through ways other than my art.

She told me about poetry.

I had never known that she liked to read poetry. She showed me her collection; books of poems by Tennyson, Poe, Cummings and a lot more. She let me borrow those books and I quickly fell in love with poems; they gave you snapshots of the turmoil that the poet was going through without giving you the whole picture. Kind of like art but without the visible imagery.

I promised her that I would try my hand at poetry.

Which leads me to the crappy verse I was trying to make.

My yellow-pad was filled with cross-outs, doodles and random words. I had only gotten so far as the beginning. I never seemed to move on to the second line. I always got stuck.

I crossed out my previous beginning and poised my pen to start again.

Velvet arms around me.

It sounded quite alright but here was the moment wherein I got stuck again.

I rolled my eyes and took a break, going downstairs. Toby was playing Call of Duty in the living room and I rolled my eyes at my childish brother who was very focused on his game. I walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Mom and Dad weren't here. They were at a luncheon or something.

There was a piece of Lemon Square sitting on a plate so I grabbed that and munched on it as I walked back to my room. When I saw Toby, I got a burst of inspiration.

"Hey bro," I said, attempting to sound natural. "Do you know anybody who can write poems and stuff?"

He paused his game and looked back at me, confusion painting his face. "Uh…why are you asking?"

"Just some homework for school," I said, crossing my fingers behind my back and hoping that he wouldn't see through my fib.

He scrunched up his nose. "Well I don't know about poetry but Wilkie does write some pretty good songs,"

"Wilkie?" I said incredulously. "Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "You asked,"

I trudged back upstairs, not quite believing it. Wilkie? I didn't even know he had a vocabulary.

In the end, I texted him. I really wanted to write a poem for reasons unknown even to myself. I let a little of my pride and dignity go as I pressed send on my message.

Hey Wilkie can u come over? –Bay

My phone pinged with a reply a few seconds later.

Sure thing. Does Toby need me or something?

No, I need some help.

I prayed to God that Toby wasn't lying and that Wilkie wouldn't laugh at what I was trying to do.

I didn't bother to change out of my white shirt and sweatpants. It was Wilkie, after all. I'd known since him since I was about five and I've always felt comfortable with him. I did take out the bras that were hanging on the doorknob of my bathroom. I didn't want to be embarrassed by the King of Humiliating Others himself. I did put on some mascara and concealer. That pimple was getting worse and worse.

Half an hour later, a knock came on my door and I opened it to find Wilkie looking puzzled.

"Hey," I said, inviting him inside my room. I kept my door open four inches though. Dad had implemented the no-doors-closed-when-with-friends-the-opposite-gender rule a few years back when Toby got a girlfriend. Pretty funny, huh? My dorky brother getting himself a girlfriend. Of course, his girlfriend was Caroline Hamilton and don't let her pretty name fool you. She looked like horse and had the intelligence equivalent to an ostrich.

"So what's up?"

"Can you write songs?" I blurted out. Yup, Bay Kennish was never one for small talk or subtlety.

"Uh yeah…I guess so," Wilkie said, looking more and more awkward by the minute.

"I'm trying to write a poem…or a song…I don't know, it depends. I'm stuck though and I need…uh…help," I said, scratching the back of my head and cracking my knuckles.

"Cool," Wilkie said in a relaxed manner, holding out his hand to me. "Let me see it then. Where did you get stuck?"

"Uh…second line?"

He snickered as I hand him the yellow pad. He narrows his eyes as he tries to decipher my messy handwriting but he finally sits down next to me on the bed and grabs a stray pencil.

Two hours later, we've finished the poem. Or song, whatever you want to call it. We're both tired, our brains fried and the bursts of inspiration that came earlier have all disintegrated. Regardless, we're both smiling and feeling proud of our song.

"Can I use this?" Wilkie asks me, holding up the piece of paper where we had written it.

"For what?" I ask blankly

He shrugs. "For Guitarface,"

My heart beats fast. "You can but you have to promise to never tell anyone that I helped you write it,"

"Sure," He folds the paper neatly and places it in his pocket then turns to look at me. His voice softens as he says, "It's about him, isn't it? Emmett?"

I pause; not really knowing what to answer but my hesitation seemed a good enough reply to him. Wilkie stands up and runs his hand through his hair. "Well this has been a very good day, Ms. Kennish. And now I really must leave you to your own devices,"

His British accent impersonation makes me laugh but just as he's going out, I suddenly say, "Were you thinking of Daphne when you were writing this?"

His shoulder muscles stiffen and he turns to look at me, his eyes and face unreadable. His expression wavers a little but he grits his teeth.

"I don't know," He says simply.

And he's out of my room.

0000-0000

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I groan, the infernal beeping of my alarm clock rousing me from my sleep. I glance at it, 7:03. I still have an hour before school.

I decide to take a shower to clear my head instead of going back to sleep. I put on my school uniform and grabbed my backpack, heading downstairs where the delicious aroma of fried eggs and bacon was coming from. 7:32. I was making great time.

I can hear Toby singing in the shower as I pass by his room and Dad rummaging around his closet as I pass the master's bedroom. Mom, as usual, is already downstairs, humming to herself as she neatly slides a perfectly cooked egg on my plate.

"Good morning Bay!" She says good-naturedly. "Aren't you an early riser today?"

"My alarm clock should be smashed," I said sweetly. My good mood evaporated as quickly as it had come. Like I said, I was never a morning person.

"Only a few more weeks until the masquerade!" Mom goes and neatly places a large X on the calendar. I groan, getting nauseous at the thought of that stupid ball. Jake was going to be my date so I was okay…I guess.

I gobble down my egg, feeling myself getting grouchier and grouchier by the minute. "You know what, Mom? I really have to get going. I promised to meet Toria for some early revising for my Biology quiz later on," Lies came to me easily nowadays. Toria was a friend, not a very close friend though. She hung out with Clover but she was a very nice girl…when she was away from the devil in Prada. There was no Biology quiz either.

"Good luck on your quiz!" Mom calls after me as I grab my keys and head towards my car. I slam the front door, just in time to hear Toby dragging himself downstairs.

As I insert the key into the ignition, my phone pings with a message. It's from Jake, asking him if I could pick him up since his car broke down. I reply with a yes even though my eyes are rolling and I quickly realize that I didn't know where he lived.

I text him back, asking him for his address but he says if I could just pick him up in Starbucks. I shrug and swing the car towards the coffee house. It's on the way to school and I might as well pick up some coffee.

Jake's waiting for me by the entrance, his tie all askew and holding two coffees and a small brown bag. He jumps into my car and we roar off. He hands me a cup of coffee and I smile at him.

"What's in the bag?" I ask, taking my eyes off the road for a second.

"A croissant. Want some?" He offers me the bread after he takes a bite off it. I shake my head no. I was already full from the breakfast that Mom made me.

"Oh yeah! I forgot. I made you this," Jake takes out a slim CD case from his bag, a bright silver CD inside. "It's a mix of songs that I thought you'd like,"

I burst out laughing. "Why'd you make me one?"

He shrugs and smacks me lightly on the shoulder. "I was bored yesterday!" He leans over and inserts the CD into my stereo. As he's doing so, his collar pulls away from his neck and I see a large purple bruise.

"What's that?" I ask

"What?" He says innocently as the first chords of a song plays out from my stereo

"That," And I take a hand off the steering wheel and point at his shoulder where the bruise is showing.

"Uh…I ran into a pole," He says nervously, fidgeting with his collar and dropping it back into place, hiding the bruise.

I sigh but I realize that he doesn't want to talk about it so I drop it.

He sings along with the song. I recognize it, Wonderwall by Oasis and I laugh at how surprisingly well his voice sounds.

He slides out the CD, neatly packing it into its case as soon as the song is finished. He unzips the front pocket on my bag and slips in it, smiling in satisfaction as he does so. We enter the school's parking lot and I settle the Thing into a free parking slot. I kill the ignition and we sit in silence for a little while.

"What really happened to you?" I ask, not daring to look at him. I settle for looking straight ahead instead, casually observing the students who are making their way to the entrance of the school yet keeping Jake in the corner of my vision as well. I see that his lips are pressed together tightly and his fists are clenched, settled on his lap. He sits rigidly, his eyes all dark and brooding and it's a few minutes before he answers.

"Nothing. I ran into a pole. Thanks for the ride," He says tightly. He unlocks the door and steps outside, adjusting his tie and collar before walking leisurely. After a few paces, however, he breaks into a full-on sprint, his backpack thudding behind him, the wind blowing in his hair.

I close my eyes and hit myself on the forehead. Thanks to my habit of not thinking before speaking, I might just have lost the closest friend I ever had.

No wonder my life is so pathetic.

~~~~~VVV~~~~~

DAPHNE

Hi. What are you doing here? I sign at Wilkie eagerly. He's standing in front of me, leaning casually against his car, his arms crossed before him. His muscles stand out in his tight uniform and I feel the other students' gazes on him. Female students to put it more specifically. He doesn't notice, however. He only continues to smirk at me.

"I woke up early and came by to give you something," He speaks slowly, giving me time to read his lips. His soft, pink-as-a-rose lips that I had kissed not long ago. That was one of the best kisses in my life. True, I had kissed my best friend but having my lips in contact with Emmett's didn't send up any sparks. I had felt nothing, only the guilt eating away from me. I knew that I was wrong in doing it and even confronting Bay about it, rubbing it into her face that I had kissed Emmett. I knew that I was the reason why they had broken up but before I could apologize, the whole thing had spiraled out of control and I could only retreat and blame myself.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and broke out of my thoughts to find Wilkie staring confusedly at me. "Daphne?"

Oh sorry, what?

He opens his car door and bends down, retrieving something from the inside. His button-up shirt rides up as he does so, exposing a small stripe of skin. Seeing that tanned flesh sends a warm feeling coursing into me and I inwardly kick myself. Why the heck am I feeling this way?

Wilkie straightens up again, nearly bumping his head on the roof of his car and turns to me, smiling widely although nervously. He's holding a huge bunch of roses, all yellow and plump wrapped in a creamy mauve paper.

"I…thought you might…ah…like this," I read his lips, mesmerized by their movement. He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, causing a few locks to fall on to his forehead.

They're beautiful! I sign, knowing that my face looks awestruck by now. I had never seen flowers as flawless as these and at the back of my mind, I know that these must be expensive but I push those thoughts away. Why had Wilkie gotten me these? I knew that I had been a jerk to him lately, turning down his invitation to go the Masquerade together and all that so I certainly didn't deserve his small gifts. So why had he bought them?

Any reason why you gave me flowers? I say, trying to make my voice sound as lighthearted as possible. Of course, with my inability to hear, I'm not really sure whether I succeeded in that venture or not.

He shrugs, looking pleased that I had accepted his flowers and was now holding it to my nose, sniffing at it delicately. "I saw them in a flower shop and thought of you,"

As soon as I finish deciphering his words, it sends a thrill through me. He had thought of me! Me! I had been in his mind when a dozen other girls more perfect than I was could have been! I try to control my thoughts but fail miserably.

He brings his watch up to his eyes and winces. "I need to go. Bye Daph,"

I wave at him, nothing more than a casual twirl of my fingers when inside, I wanted to hug him. I mouth thank you at him, watching his lips curve up in a small smile. He backs away from the curb and I turn away, heading for the school's doors, feeling dizzy with happiness.

Who was he? One of my best girl friends, Carrie Skye, signs excitedly as she catches up with me. I am aware of a few looks from other people, envious ones from nearly all the girls but I don't care. I'm just so freaking content right now.

I shift the bouquet so I could sign freely. Just this guy I know. He's a guitarist in the band that Emmett plays drums in.

Well whoever he is, you are so lucky! Whoops, gotta go! Bye Daph!

I can't help musing over what Carrie said and agreeing with her. Despite of all the confusion and sorrow that has happened over the past few months, I am pretty lucky to still have friends. And I am most certainly fortunate to have Wilkie…

Hey Daph. Who gave you those? Emmett catches up with me as I am opening my locker with much difficulty since the bouquet is really big. I find myself smiling up at him but I notice the purple circles under his eyes and the tired smile that is pasted on his face.

Wilkie came by to give them to me earlier. I sign cautiously. Emmett hadn't really liked Wilkie when they first met, casting him off as a pompous, arrogant jerk who had a loaded up bank account and rich parents to back him up. I knew that he and Wilkie had come to good terms because of the band, though, but I still didn't know if he still had his previous feelings towards him.

He smiles at me, still looking fatigued and I wonder whether he's sick…or just wondering about Bay again. I know how much he loves her and I think about mentioning her name but I know that it wouldn't help. He would just go on brooding the rest of the day.

Be careful Daph…Heartbreak is a very…serious thing…

I nod at him, showing him that I had understood his intentions. He didn't want me to end up either like him or Bay, all depressed and putting up a façade for other people to see. I was his best friend and he didn't want this happening to me. I was thankful for that.

He nods at me and walks off but I still continue to stare after him.

I have to get him and Bay back together again.