Flashback:

I look in the mirror and scowl. I can't seem to get my makeup exactly right for Alex and I's first date. I've tried every different color of eye shadow I own, plus some of my mom's. My hair won't stay as curly as I try to get it, and my outfit is looking less and less appealing by the second.

The mirror is mocking me, I swear. I have a hour left till she gets here, and I wash my face free of my makeup gunk for the sixth time. I don't usually wear that much, but for some reason I felt really nervous about this.

"Get yourself together Mitchie." I said to my reflection.

All I want is to look absolutely perfect. Is that too hard to ask?

"Honey, Alex is here!" Mom calls up.

What?! I glance at my phone. I still have fifty three minutes!

"Tell her to go away!" I yell back, applying a light purple to my eyelids and running some mascara onto my eyelashes.

"You want me to send her away?" Mom sounds confused.

"No." I sighed. "I'll be right down."

I fumble with my blush and dab some on my cheeks really quick, then run to the door and open it.

Alex is standing there in a doorway, with a ponytail pulled back into a baseball cap. She was wearing some PE shorts and a raggedy t-shirt. She had two fishing poles in her hand.

It had taken me a while to choose what to wear. I was in a black dress that ended around my knees. The red high heels I had strapped on were already hurting my feet, and I had spent three hours on caking makeup onto my face.

"Well, aren't you a little dressed up for a fishing trip?" Alex asked, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling, knowing very well I had thought she was taking me to a nice restaraunt or something.

"Alex!" I stamped my foot and winced.

She just smirked. "Go and change, I'll wait here."

Really? I had spent three days picking out this outfit! But nevertheless I marched to my room and pulled on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. I twisted my curly hair up into a messy bun and wiped off all the makeup again.

Then I went back to Alex and glared. "I hate you so much right now."

"What, you don't like fishing?" She feigned insult. "It's a harder sport than you think."

"Let's just go." I walked past her and shut the door behind me. She follows suit, and after stuffing the fishing poles in the back and helping me into the car (like always), we are on our way to wherever she is taking me.

"You know, usually a date means a nice dinner, a movie, then maybe a quiet place to watch the stars." I say as she comes to a stop to let a child cross the street.

"Usually. I'm not really a 'usual' person, Mitch."

I had to grin. "No, you are not."

Alex nodded, seemingly glad I got the point. "Exactly."

We continued down the road. It took about thirty minutes of small talk before she parked, got out, and got the fishing poles.

I followed grudgingly, and we trudged down a little dirt trail until finally coming to the river.

"Here." Alex handed me a pole. "Let me fix you up."

"What?"

"You know, get the fishing pole ready and stuff."

"Oh. Okay."

Five minutes later she was teaching me how to cast out. The first time I tried I managed to get a foot out into the water. I could tell Alex was trying not to laugh.

"Mitchie, you have to actually use your muscles."

I blushed furiously. "I'm trying!"

"Here, watch."

She took the fishing pole for me and casted out, showing me what she did. The line went just as far as she said it would.

Alex handed me the handle. "Think you can handle reeling one in?"

I put on a determined face. "Yes."

"Alright then, I'm going to fix up my own line. If you feel any hard tugging, you've got a fish."

"I know how it works."

She just raised her eyebrow. "Sure."

We sat there in contented silence for a while, then I saw her face change.

"What?" I asked.

"I think I might have one."

She stood from the ground and started reeling. I saw something splash a while away, and I knew she was right.

"Get it!"

I stood up myself, excitedly. At the same time, something gave my line a hard tug. The fishing pole flew from my hands and into the water. The fast flowing river showed it no mercy, it was gone in five seconds flat.

Alex was too busy grabbing the fish she had just caught from the water. She was really excited, I could tell.

I watched as she took it off the line and looked it over. Then, to my shock, she threw it back into the river.

"Why did you do that?!"

Alex turned to me to answer, then noticed something. "Michelle Torres, where is your fishing pole?!"

I looked down, very embarrassed and guilty. "The um...the river.."

"You let it go?" She sounded really mad.

"The river ate it." Was all I managed. Everything went silent, and I raised my gaze from the ground to see if she was going to kill me.

Alex was rolling silently in the dirt, tears going down her cheeks and mouth open with no sound coming out. She was laughing.

"You...you...the river ate it..." She gasped through her hysteria. "If this is what you're going to do every time we go fishing, I'm going to need more fishing poles."

I cracked a smile. "Sorry."

She managed to get up off the ground, and wipe her tears. "Come on, we might as well go somewhere else now, you can't just sit there."

"I thought that was what fishing was." I teased, but follow her back to the car.

"That was one of my best poles." She wasn't making me feel better about all this.

"Look, I didn't mean to..."

She cut me off with a hug. "You're fine, I'm just kidding around."

Her arms wrapped around me were pleasantly warm. I let myself enjoy the comfort of it all until finally she let go.

"I'd better this fishing pole into the back of the car before the river eats it, too." Her eyes twinkled.

"Aw, shush."

After she did that, she came around and opened the door for me. I got in, used to it, and waited for her to walk around and get in herself.

Once we were both buckled up, we just sat there. Alex didn't seem like she was going to start the car anytime soon.

"So...what now?" I said, trying to put an end to the quiet.

"Well, I'm a mess, so it's not like we can go anywhere. We aren't dressed for a restaraunt, and I'm not sure the theatre would let us in."

"My parents went for a date, and locked the house. I don't have a key, so we can't get back in until eight. It's only five thirty."

She pondered this. "Hmm..."

Then I got an inspiration. "I know, we can go to your house! I haven't even met your family yet."

Alex went red, and I immediately knew there was something she hadn't told me. "What? What is it?"

"You know, we could always go through a drive-thru for dinner. I'll take you to Taco Bell."

She started the car and didn't answer my question.

I wondered what she was hiding, and why...

Present:

I woke up, and checked the clock. It was only six thirty in the morning.

I had been dreaming of the past all night, and I was tired of all these flashbacks and hallucinations. Dr. Cane had promised it would end, yet it hadn't.

Shane had texted me just ten minutes ago. Good morning gorgeous.

In everything, I had to smile. Maybe Shane was the one I should be with after all, he did seem more communicative. Alex wasn't much a texter, at least, she didn't text me that often.

Knowing I had to eat breakfast, I went to the kitchen and prepared the quickest meal I could think of. Then I sat down and took a bite, thinking.

The toast tasted like cardboard. All I could think of was that I had done just what I had been mad at Alex for doing. But the thing was, we weren't in a relationship anymore, so why was I so guilty? It wasn't like I had cheated on her like she had cheated on me... but it sure fealt like it.

I kissed Shane. She kissed Miley. What on earth had I been thinking? And right after a break up, I started going out with my ex. Wasn't there some kind of rule against that?

"You know, if you just talk to me, maybe we could work things out." Alex's voice came from next of me.

I sighed tiredly. "Could you just leave me alone? I'm sick of you just popping into my life whenever you want. You're not even real."

"Alex Russo isn't real? If that's so, the last two years of your life you've been spending dating someone nonexistant."

"You aren't Alex, you're some kind of illusion and I don't want to deal with this right now."

She shrugged, and vanished. This time, I didn't start to get all sick.

Why was that?

The only difference between this time and all the others was that she hadn't touched me... hm. And the only time she appears is when I'm thinking about her, or referencing her in some way. Great, how was I supposed to stop doing that?

I finished the buttered bread I was eating and realized today was a Monday. School would be starting in an hour or so.

At first I wondered if I would be allowed to just stay at home or not, but then I saw a note on the table land knew it was unavoidable.

Dear Mitchie,

Go to school. We love you.

-Mom

Wow, breief and commanding. Sounds like I am not getting out of school today.

It hits me how much time Shane and Justin took off from studying to check up on me, and probably Alex too. They go to college, too, so they have triple the work load than I do.

Which reminds me, I'm going to have a lot to make up.

Reluctantly, I take a shower and pack everything into my backpack. By the time I'm done, I have twenty minutes to be at the school, in my classroom, ready to learn.

I bolt out the door and try not to speed as I drive. It's senior year, and I don't really have much time for being late.

Luckily, I have two minutes before the bell rings when I make it to my first class. I put my backpack under my seat and settle in. My desk is the farthest from the front, which I'm happy about because it doesn't draw attention to me that often. I don't have any friends in my classes, so this seat suits me just fine.

Mr. Wicker stands up the second the bell rings and smiles at us all. "Welcome back from your weekend, class. Today I would like to introduce a new student!"

Everyone is looking now, wondering who this person could be.

"Ms. Tyler, could you introduce yourself please?"

A girl who's a little taller than me walks up. She has lighter skin, straight blonde hair, and walks with an air of authority. She turns to the class and smiles, but her eyes are cold as they sweep over us. Her gaze lingers on mine, and then she moves on.

"I'm Tess Tyler." She finally says.

"Say hello, class." Mr. Wicker tells us.

"Hello Tess Tyler." We all chorus.

"Hi." She gives a small wave.

"Well Ms. Tyler, pick a seat. We have many open ones..."

"I want that one." She points, and I see that she's pointing towards my desk. My desk.

"Tess, I'm sorry, but that one is taken..."

"Need I remind you who my mom is?" Woah, this girl needs to chill. Her icy blue eyes are ablaze, and her fists are clenched. The 'smile' she had only a few seconds ago has trasnformed into a thin line. She means business.

As if she can actually order a teacher around.

But then, to my utter dismay, Mr. Wicker nods and looks at me. "Ms. Torres, can you find another empty seat?"

I got up, gathered all my stuff, and looked around. The only unoccupied desks were in the front of the class.

Snickers and small whispers went back and forth as I walked to one of them with every shrap of dignity I had left, defeated. Then, with a huff, I sat down.

Tess glanced at me, and I saw a glimpse of a smirk before she waltzed to the back and took my seat. Oh, this was war.

Mr. Wicker passed out worksheets and talked about what we were supposed to be doing, but my mind was completely focused on Tess. What was her game?

"Mitchie!" My thoughts cleared and I looked at my teacher.

"Yes?"

"Congratulations on getting the only hundred percent in this class!" Oh, he was passing back the tests.

"Thank you, Mr. Wicker." I beamed. "I worked really hard for that grade."

"Well seens how you obviously know what you're doing, why don't you show Tess around the school. She had the same schedule as you, so it'll be perfect."

He's already made up his mind, so I bow my head and utter a low 'okay.'

The worksheet we were supposed to be doing was simple. I had finished before most kids had started, and now I had plenty of time to wonder what I had got myself into. But before I can even start that thought process, I hear someone come up behind me and look over my work, breathing into my ear.

"You know, what ever your face is, that doesn't look too bad." Oh great, it's Tess.

"I'm good with math." I mumble. "And my name is Mitchie.

She turns to the kid next to me. "Up."

He gives her a confused look. "What?"

"Get out of your chair."

Probably more stunned than anything, he stood up. Tess grabbed the chair out from under him and sat down, fingers put together and back straight, all prim and proper. "Now then, I need help with this."

She slams her worksheet down on my desk so hard my own paper almost slips off.

"Well, the formula's are all on the board, and.."

"And what?"

I stared into her eyes. "And you can do them yourself."

Tess just laughs as if I'm making a joke. "Me, do my own homework? Have you ever heard of T.J Tyler?"

"Isn't she some singer or something?"

"That's my mom."

My eyes widen. "No way."

She smiles, obviously used to the reaction when we're talking about her parent. "Yes way. And when it comes to homework, I don't really do much. I'm a singer."

"Hey, I'm a singer too! Sometimes I write my own..."

Her finger goes to my lips, shushing me. "That's very nice, Margaret, but I need my homework done."

"It's Mitchie."

"Whatever."

I look sideways at her paper. It doesn't even have one answer filled out. "Well, I suppose I could help you out on the first question."

Tess nods. "Alright then. Tell me what to write."

"No, as in..." I say, about to explain that I didn't want her to copy, I wanted her to let me help her. But then Mr. Wicker looked up and saw us talking. He burst into a smile.

"Atta girl, Mitchie. And just so you know, you will be accounted for Tess's work as well. I want to see an improvement in her grades. She wasn't doing so well when she transferred. If Tess get's a bad grade, I'm cutting your percentage down by half."

"B...b...but that's not fair." I stutter.

"You'll do fine."

I want to protest further, but I have fifteen minutes to 'help' Tess with her work.

"Alright," I hiss to her. "I'll let you copy just this once. But next time we're going to do this the right way, got it?"

"Of course." She pulls my paper towards her and starts writing my answers. I feel awful, but I know it's the only way. Mr. Wicker was being extremely unfair, and I would figure out why. Usually he wouldn't have made me change seats, or given me a person to guide. He knows how shy I am. Mr. Wicker is mad at me, and I was going to find out why.

The bell rang just as Tess finished her work. She printed her name across the top and I turned in both our papers. Then I slung my backpack over my shoulder and gestured for her to follow. We only had to go a little bit down the hallway before we reached the next class.

"Here we are. US History." I swung my arm out across the classroom.

"US History?" She glanced at her schedule. "I'm sorry, I have Biology next. Where's that?"

So Mr. Wicker lied. We didn't have the same schedule. Now I knew for sure something was up.

"Who's your teacher?" I asked.

"It says, Mrs. Fawn."

"Follow me then." That class was all the way across the school!

I tried to ignore that Tess was right behind me and charged through the crowd of high schoolers. We made it; just in time for the bell. I was late for my class now.

Before I could charge back, a very old, frail woman approached me. "Mitchie Torres?"

"Yes?"

"You've been transferred to a new schedule so you could help Ms. Tyler." She was one of the old ladies who's mouth is set in a permenant frown. "We only have two seats left, so please, take your pick."

"But what about my other classes? My credits!"

"We'll figure it out. Welcome to Biology."

"But I already took Biology!"

Either she didn't care, or my words fell on deaf ears, because she was already walking to the front of the class.

My stomach dropped. Was this some kind of cruel nightmare?

Tess had already taken the seat next to a guy who was flexing his muscles for her. I hurried to the only other seat available, thankful it was in the back of the class, but unfortunately Tess was sitting right in front ot it.

There was only one person sitting next to me, and I tried not to look at them. I was too shocked to want to make conversation.

"Mitchie?"

I turned to the person in slow motion, recognizing the voice but hoping it wasn't true.

There, in all her glory, sat Alex Russo.