Author Note: Here's the newly rewritten chapter 11! :D

Chapter 11

Leaving the island two weeks ago had been a stupid, stupid idea. I was totally alone here in the city. I had no job. All I had was the crappy shed my loving parents had shoved me in, and the glares of all the poor city idiots to keep me company.

I'd thought about returning to the island about ten minutes after I'd left, but come on….I'd totally screwed myself over. Mirabelle probably would've welcomed be back with open arms (or a good whack on the head, you never could tell with her). She and Julia were just good people like that. Good people who deserved better than me.

Then there was….her.

I hadn't thought about Chelsea in the 2 weeks since I'd left. I'd start to sometimes, but I'd make myself stop. That look on her face when I told her I was leaving… It haunted me. It made me feel worse than anything else to think that I'd left her, and that she might be as miserable as I was because of that.

But that was probably all in my head. After all, she'd never actually implied that she liked me, other than the one night just before I left. When everything got so screwed up.

"I like you more than I intended to,"

What the hell was that suppose to mean? That she didn't totally hate me? It didn't necessarily mean she liked me, and I didn't want to read that much into it. She and Denny were probably back together by now, both forgetting that I'd even existed in their lives for a few months. Which meant I needed to forget I ever knew Chelsea. Or I'd be miserable for a long, long time.

It was with this mentality that I had gone to bed and woken up each morning with.

But this particular morning was different. I woke up with the sun shining right in my face, as usual. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, cussing at my window, as usual. But as I was getting out of bed I heard this weird ripping-scraping-tearing sound coming from outside my door.

Another morning full of aggravation, I thought, pulling on some pants so I could go outside and see who the hell was messing with my house.

And that's when my door came off.

I shouldn't really say 'came off'. Because someone took it off, while I was still putting on my pants. I quickly pulled them on and stomped over to my door frame, ready to give whoever had just messed up my morning a piece of my mind. I poked my head outside and scowled at a girl standing a few feet away, holding what had 2 minutes ago been my door.

She glanced at me. "Oh. I didn't know someone was living in there."

I blinked at her. There was no way…

There was no way I was staring Chelsea right in the face.

I felt an odd tugging sensation in my chest. I gulped.

"Chelsea?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

I blinked a few times and refocused on the girl in front of me. She was taller, and her eyes were a shade darker, with a slightly wild look to them. Her hair was the same color, but it was shorter, and rather unkempt. Then there was her outfit, a purple velvet jacket, green and yellow skirt and blue flip-flops.

Not Chelsea.

I could feel my face getting warm. I forced myself to look away.

"Uh…Sorry…thought you were someone else."

She continued to glare. "Oh."

She almost looked mad at me. It ticked me off. What did she have to be mad about? I'm the one who had the rude awakening-slash-door pilfering! So if anyone had the right to be mad, it was me!

"What's your problem?" I asked, not looking at her. Even if she wasn't Chelsea, the resemblance was remarkable. And it unnerved me. "Who the hell goes around stealing people's doors?"

"I'm not stealing it. I was just trying to add your shed into my painting, and your hideous door was bugging me."

I couldn't believe my ears. "What?"

She shrugged, putting my door on the ground and picking up a collection of art supplies a few feet away. I shook my head in disbelief. The arrogance of city people never ceased to amaze me, but this? This was a first. How many people can actually say this has happened to them?

"I'll put it back when I'm done, so don't have a fit. If you don't like it just, I don't know, go for a walk or something." She told me, setting up a canvas. I scowled. No one barks orders at me like that! I opened my mouth to tell her to put my door back and buzz off, and she looked at me.

With her very Chelsea-ish eyes. My words caught in my throat.

"Yeah?"

"…Don't go in my house while I'm out." I muttered, and went back in my house, pulled on a shirt, and left. She gave me a little smile as I walked past her.

I felt like a total idiot. Of course Chelsea wouldn't have come here to find me, I was an idiot for getting my hopes up like that. And I was even more of an idiot for letting that girl walk over me like that- just because she looked like Chelsea. It was pathetic. A pathetic reminder that I needed to forget Chelsea.

Immediately.

x-x-x

Going out had turned out to be a good thing.

It had prompted me to get a start on job hunting, which I'd been putting off for the past two weeks. Getting a new job would help me put my past behind me. Not to mention the fact that I was running low on funds, and running back to mommy and daddy for money was the last thing I wanted to do.

But finding a job wasn't working out as easily as I thought it would. I'd interviewed at cafés ($4.99 for a cup of joe? Forget it), clothing stores ($600 for some shoes? It's getting worse…), and bookstores (…Those weren't too bad, actually). Even burger joints wouldn't hire me! Why?

I had a resume that read "animal ranching high school dropout". That doesn't make me sound very intelligent, I know, but I at least look competent enough to flip some burgers, don't I?

I scowled, glancing around. One more. There was one more store on this street I hadn't tried yet, a bakery. If they didn't hire me, I'd call this whole job hunting thing quits. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

"…Hell no."

Everything was lacy, with lime green ribbons. I could smell cookies baking in an oven. There was a sign over the counter that said "made with love".

"Can I help you?" A tubby woman asked, walking out from what looked like the kitchen area.

"Uh…"

"Too many choices, huh?"

More like not enough choices-in jobs. But if I wanted one badly enough….

"Do you…have any jobs available?"

She tilted her head, smiling at me slightly. My face was almost as red as her pixie cut.

"Well….I can't say that I can really see you working here, Can you bake?"

"….Somewhat."

"How are your people skills?"

I shrugged. This was hopeless. I turned to leave and something hit the back of my arm. An apron.

"Tell you what. I'll give you a one week trial period. Come in tomorrow and we'll see if we can find something for you to do."

The next day I got up before the sun had risen, threw on my new uniform (lime green apron and matching bandanna to be wrapped around my forehead) and shut my door. My new door. The girl had put my door back alright. After doing me the favor of painting it tye-dye colors. (I'd have to remember to stop by the paint store on the way home.)

I walked down the street and arrived at the bakery at 7:56, just in time, still so amazed that I'd gotten the job that I didn't even mind the stupid uniform. As I pushed open the door, someone else pushed it at the same time. I glanced sideways.

The someone was wearing the bakery uniform and was staring at me with very Chelsea-ish eyes.