This is my first chance at writing and actually posting it. Go easy on me. But not too easy. Meh.

Chapter I-The whole interment tradition

You were supposed to grow old. Reckless, unfrightened, and old,
you were supposed to grow old. -Return, Ok go

Paul's POV

This is hardly the story you want to hear.

Villain. Antagonist. Wimp.

Maybe. Maybe they're true. And that's probably the worst part. Death somehow restored me. Two deaths in one year.

It all began at exactly 3:20 P.M. when I returned home. I returned home to Grandfather's death. I'd like to romanticize his death. That he died in some great shifting procedure.

Please.

He couldn't even die elegantly. He stopped breathing. And before you think it, don't. I had nothing to do with his death. I gained nothing from it, except soggy shoes from the over-watered grass while attending the funeral. And a sobbing brother.

Dearest Jack. While in the church, he restrained his sniffles and occasionally wiped inadvertent tears with his sleeve. Then it was the four of us: Jack, the nurse, the priest, and I, to deposit the body into the earth. Sounds like the start to some pretty bad joke.

Which by the way seems rather pointless; I mean spending that much money to encage a rotting body, ah, tradition. Tradition can always be an excuse for lunacy.

And that was the end of Grandfather. And there we were. One grandson sobbing for the idea of losing a loved one he never knew; the other contemplating the whole interment tradition. The nurse was nodding his head to each syllable of the priests, probably wondering when he'd be called for the reading of Gramp's will.

Well, you can see how the rest of my family felt about the funeral. I'm sure you're disappointed with my unsociably correct boredom. See, you crow, this is exactly why Paul is a grade a-jerk. Dear old Gramps—the man who believed I was Satan's incarnation. There's nothing like family.

Suze's POV

I don't think I've ever been this happy. Ever. I mean, I should be writing fluffy poems in a journal about birds. And raindrops. And boyfriends who drive to see you during the summer before you go to college. A boyfriend who miraculously came back to life after 150-some years of death and haunting.

Jesse, Jesse, your bones were rotting, but then we met, and you were glowing!

Come to think of it, that'd be one gross poem.

A boyfriend who should have picked me up thirty minutes ago. He was away from college for the summer and promised to take me to our senior party. I sat in my living room waiting, in the heat of summer, sweating from his absence. I'm trying not to act worried, because in spite of the longevity of our relationship, and his willingness to speak with my parents, my mom's worried.

Ah! The doorbell!

I raced down the stairs and threw the door open. Right before my mother could come near the door and reinstate the "rules". I think the longer Jesse and I are together, the longer the rule list becomes. I grabbed his arm, and began to pull him towards the car. He just stood in place, his eyebrow lifted in amusement. God, he smelled good.

"Jesse!" My mother cooed walking towards the door. "Gotta go, mom. We're late." If he wasn't leaving, I for sure wasn't sticking around for rule number 12: if things start to get sticky, pull out a plastic-ky.

Yeah. They rhyme. Did I forget to mention that?

At last, we were headed towards the beach party. Jesse pulled the car into gear, before taking that same hand and holding mine over the stick shift. "How's Father Dom?" I was greedily studying his fingers.

"Dying," he replied softly. I dropped his hand and did a 180 to face him.

"What!" Jesse smiled. "I am only kidding, boba."

"Funny. So funny I might spend the rest of the night flirting with all the hot surfers I see." I stared out the window in mock anger.

When I glanced back I saw the wind blowing his dark hair in majestic waves; his shirt was ruffling. He filled the shirt completely, the tan contrasted with the light blue he wore. There was a hint of a smile in his face, and all of him sent potent signals to my body that he was male, he was gorgeous and most importantly, he was all mine. My favorite part of the aurora of Jesse was that he now had a smell to him. He smelled of soap and shaving cream.

But lets face it, what don't I like about this man?

We parked and stared out at all of my senior class, rampaging on the beach. "Party time." I smiled.

Paul's POV

So I was on my fifth beer. I think.

The full moon glimmered in the cloudless sky, shimmering down on all the gyrating bodies. Some girl had her hands around my neck. The culmination of the huge crowd of dancing seniors on the sand had worked up a general sweat. My skin turned icy cold when random bimbo number five's shoulder went below my view. She had arrived.

I felt her every time I turned around. Green luminous eyes watching me, seeping in my soul and spitting mine back out. Maybe five wasn't such a good idea.

Her beloved significant other had left her to go speak with Father Dom. Yes, you heard me right. Father Dom. And I lost her to…Jesse? Man, I need to work on my kissing…I mean, seriously…what else can it be? But I never miss an opportunity. And this was one.

"So a black dress, huh? Are you in mourning?" Suze looked at me with a panic in her eyes. She knew the chemical affect of the two of us together. Our chemistry was an atomic bomb that had only one purpose: release, and in the process it destroyed everything in the way of that purpose.

"Look Paul, I heard about your grandfather…" She swirled the ice in her now empty glass with nervous energy.

"Oh Yeah? How special" Sarcasm on my part.

"Well you know," she hesitated, and then placed a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry. I truly am, he made a few mistakes…" Her eyebrows lifted and she stared at me poignantly. Her hand on my arm stirred heat in me, taking all of my attention.

I "tried" the friendship thing with her junior year, tried being the operative there. Following that I tried ignoring her existence. And then when the drinking started, and the parties, I still remembered those eyes. I'd wake from my drunken stupor with cold chills from the haunting memory of the one person who meant something to me, staring at me with longing but insurmountable disapproval.

I shifted my arm so her hand fell off. "Seems insanity runs in the family, and what am I doing? I'm giving myself a few years before the total ostracism from my family." I laughed sarcastically at that and continued. "Now that I think about it, ostracism from my family, not such a bad idea. Should have claimed the mediator bit earlier, just liked the money too much."

Her eyes connected with mine and I stumbled into her. We landed with her back to the bar and me with both arms surrounding her. I felt the blood rushing through my veins, pounding in my ears and something in my mind went very loudly, Ping! Her hand lifted and held my chin.

"Paul…you understand. I needed you this year. But Jesse's my true love. I was told that by someone who knew what I was. There's no way she was wrong…" She was blathering. Bumbling along in a sea of words, and I was sinking towards the lighthouse from which the words were shinning. I was going to kiss her.

Suze's POV

His face swayed towards mine. God knows his body need not do any swaying; he was already pressed against me. I think I might have kissed him, but when he was about an inch away I smelled alcohol. In his breath, his clothes, his lips. I wouldn't be surprised if it somehow had gotten in his hair.

"You're drunk," I hissed.

"All part of the charm," but the swaying had stopped and a small furrow appeared on his brow. I crossed my arms, and glared. It was at that moment Jesse returned, and stared confusedly at Paul and I. Paul drew close to my ear and Jesse and I both tensed.

He seemed about to whisper something in my ear, but hesitated. A random bimbo took that moment to attach her to his side and beg for more dancing, aka sex with clothes on.

Jesse came and kissed me softly on the lips. I felt tingles all over when he does that. "Let's dance." It was a playful order, and now he was the one pulling me along. As soon as we found a spot of the sand near the gyrating crowd a slow song began. I looked up into his liquid eyes; a child-like smile lit his face.

"You just requested that song, didn't you?" He just pulled me closer and kissed my neck softly. His touch raised goose bumps all over me. "Smooth mister, real smooth." But I wasn't complaining. I didn't bother to glance back. I could feel his eyes scorching our backs.

The bimbo pulled on Paul. "Paul, wanna drink?"

"No."

Bimbo paused, then brightened. "Wanna leave?" His eyes finally left their perusal of the couple on the floor. The anger in his eyes made her nervous, even through the haze of alcohol. He took her arm and with powerful strides yanked her through the crowd towards his car.

"Why not."

AN: My first attempt. I'm all ears for good or bad feedback.