Please note: This is my first fic, period. I'm going to try and make it a good one, but please bear with me. Also, I have been influenced by other writers, and may use some of the same topics, but the plot ideas are all my own. -§teph

This story takes place after the first year of Eden Hall. They will have turned sixteen.

Adam's POV

I hated doing this, but I had to convince him that I was normal. I caught up with Julie quickly. My heart racing, as I walked her to her next class. I had to leave her, which I didn't really want to do. She was a sort of, support…to hide behind, even. I had no interest at all in her, that I could safely say. But, I had to think up an excuse to back off from Charlie until I found a girl I did like. The way things were going, I didn't know if that would ever happen. Walking to my class, Science, I sighed nervously. Charlie was in that class.

I took a seat, calmly. I kept my vision away from him the whole class, which was pretty hard. I couldn't let him see how much this was tearing me apart. It really was, for years Charlie and I had…well, been 'together'. I really didn't know why I'd ended it. Maybe I thought it would make me feel better, but it felt so incredibly wrong. I shook my head; my mind needed to be on my studies. I tried to cast a glance at him, but I felt like he was staring at me, and I didn't want him to see me look his way.

At the end of class, he brushed past me, our shoulders bumping, and causing me to step lightly back. I looked after him, at last, allowing my gaze to roam to his slim physique. I was older, stronger, and more mature…so why couldn't I do anything right? I felt helpless, and he looked back at me. I averted my gaze, looking back at my bag, and throwing my books into it. Damn, I hope I didn't just give myself away… If I had, I wouldn't know what to do.

I went quickly to my next class. By the end of it, my pencil was totally mutilated from its initial state. I realized that I had bitten the end until it was a thin twig of what a pencil should be. The lump in my throat grew steadily. We had practice. I ran to my dorm room, and threw my hockey gear into my tout. I slipped that over my shoulder and paced quickly to the arena. Changing silently, I knew Charlie wouldn't let me forget this mistake.

The girls didn't change in the same locker room as us, for obvious reasons, so Julie wasn't there for my to hide behind. I bit my lip, my enamels steadily carving the tinted flesh. Trying my best not to do anything to let Charlie onto me, I sighed with relief once my helmet was on, and it was harder to see my face.

We practiced normally, accept for the scrimmage. Charlie and I were facing off, normal. What wasn't normal, was the way he looked at me. He still had the imploring glance. His eyes were wide, their brown tainting obvious as he seeked my own oculus. Our gazes met, and I thought for sure that I was going to melt. Luckily, I didn't. He, on the other hand, apparently had his mind on something other than hockey. He relaxed when the whistle was blown, instead of charging me. I furrowed my brow with confusion, but continued through the defense. Julie was the goalie, and I passed to her left. Connie received it, and passed it calmly back at forth in front of her.

"Connie, pass it," I called.

"Banks! Look out," She nearly screamed.

From behind me, a looming mass met full force at my side. I knew immediately who it was, don't ask me how, because I couldn't tell you. It was perfectly legal, I knew, but totally uncalled for. I slammed my stick against the ice in anguish. I glared up at him, the perfect, nonchalant expression. I could feel myself trembling, but through my pads no one could tell. Under that gaze, what could I do? What would I want to do? Julie was there too, watching me. The coach stopped the play, and I felt like a total fool. There was Charlie, looming over me with that innocent look, and Julie, kneeling now, who thought I was actually hurt. The coach skated towards us.

"Adam, you hurt," The coach addressed me and I shook my head, "Alright, then. Have a seat and catch your breath."

I willingly went to the pit, sitting exasperatedly on the bench. I removed my helmet, brushing my hair, now damp with sweat, from my forehead. Damn him! I thought. I couldn't comprehend why he'd do something like that. I wasn't hurt from the blow, but I was surprised. My pride had taken a backseat on this one…I thought about him, his hair, his eyes, his body…him. I couldn't tell which I wanted more, to be normal, or to be happy. I was so confused, I didn't know what to do.

Practice ended. Gratefully, I stepped into the shower, the suds running over my tight, sweaty skin. I finished quickly, wary of you-know-who. I wrapped a towel around my waist, feeling like I was walking on glass. I rounded the corner, having waited for everyone to leave so I could be safe from Charlie's prying eyes. And there, in front of me, he stood. His eyes with the same wide, vacant, expression as our face off…and me, in my towel.