Taylor Jameson

I sat in the back of the science lab, next to my partner, Jesse Sawyer. I was doodling a cartoon of him, but had to keep starting over because he couldn't sit still.

"Jesus. Why so jittery, Sawyer?"

"I'm always this jittery."

"Yeah, true. Make an exception. Sit still so I can finish."

He stopped squirming and sat still. For two minutes, anyway. I sighed in frustration but then he turned and smiled at me, and I had to laugh. He always makes me laugh. We've been really good friends since first grade, so he should be able to do that by now. He pushed his hair back, but it just fell straight down once more. His hair is that golden color that isn't quite blonde or brown and falls down to his mouth. He's the only person I know that has gold eyes. They aren't shiny like jewelery. They're a shade between honey-gold and old gold.

A ruler rapped hard across our desk and we both jumped simultaneously. "Would either of you be so kind as to tell me the answer?"

"What was the question?" Jesse kicked me under the desk and i fought not to reach down and rub it. That hurt.

"I would like to ask you two lovebirds to pay attention before I have to seperate you."

Lovebirds? Jesse and I both scowled at the suggestion. We might be close and seem like we're interested in eachother, but we're just friends. You can never romantically look at the guy you know wet himself because he didn't have his Mr. Snuggews with him at a sleepover. Nevertheless, people did turn and make cat calls, which the teacher ignored. The loudest person was Owen Weiller. Popular, jock, and idiotic. When the teacher walked away I crumbled up a piece of paper and threw the ball at Owen's head. It bounced off and Jesse high fived me as we both did a mini-victory dance before Mr.Gershom turned to face the class.

Taking our seats once again, I glanced over at Owen. He was smirking at me and mouthed one word before the bell rang: 'Later'. I shivered and collected my books. Jesse had already left to go to our last period class. His was music, and he wouldn't be late to that if he was missing a leg. I had art.

I shoved my books into my backpack with a will. That is, until I dropped them. Everywhere. As in pencils went rolling across the floor, books skidded, papers flew. I'm not a klutz, I swear. Sighing, I dropped to my knees, pulling books into a pile and gathering up papers. Everything was neatly tucked away in its proper place about four minutes after the late bell rang. However, when i started looking for my baseball cap, I couldn't find it.

"Twilight?"

I closed my eyes and wished the owner of that voice would just walk away. Leave my book, and walk away. I willed it to happen. But when I turned, he was still there. "Yeah, Twilight. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I've read it. It's a good book."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why would you read Twilight?"

"Why not?"

"It's kind of...you know...a chick book."

"So, you like chick books?" He grinned, and I found myself smiling back.

"Why are you being nice?"

"Because I have your hat."

Sure enough, he did. My Superman hat was snugly pulled over his short, rusty colored hair. The bastard. I snatched at my cap, but there were two problems: He was too tall, and I was too short. I improvised. Jumping onto him, i wrapped my legs around his waist and my arm around his neck, holding on as i grabbed the hat and pulled it onto my own head.

I smirked at him, and he smiled. Reflectively I realized his arms were around me, and I was pressed against his chest. With this realization came a new one. One that was not so welcome. I tried to sniff him without letting it show, which wasn't difficult considering how close we were. He was a werewolf. He was like me. I could smell it on him. At the same moment, he realized it, too. My smile vanished as he leaned his face toward mine, his breath fanning my cheek. I pulled back and looked at him, my heart in my throat. Sliding off him, I tried to pull away from his arms but he held me closer and leaned down once more. His face was inches from mine, and he whispered,

"Why are you running away?"

"I need to get to class."

"You're already late. What's the rush?"

"The rush? The rush! The rush is that I shouldn't be here, and you shouldn't be holding onto me even if you smell really good and it feels really nice and i think you're gonna kiss me and the truth is I really don't understand how this is happening because five minutes ago we were trying to kill eachother and now-" He put his hand over my mouth, stopping my incessant babbling and smiling.

"I smell good?" I blushed and he held me tighter. "You were right about one thing. This does feel really good." If I could turn any redder, my head would explode. I kept my mouth shut, even after he took his hand away. He leaned down for what must have been the millionth time, and he pressed his mouth against mine. My cheeks burned as his lips moved over me, mine not responding. He pulled away slightly and I thought he'd stop, but he shoved me in the back with a hand and I gasped as I flew into him, my voice captured in his mouth as he kissed me. I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him back, caught up in his lips and letting everything else slip away. We both pulled away at the same time, and I looked into his steel gray eyes, thinking: Who are you? Why didn't I see you before?

I backed away, shaking my head. This wasn't real. This wasn't right. This wasn't the same Owen Weiller he was when we were around other people. This was a game, and I didn't want to play. Werewolves didn't just kiss at our age; They wanted all or nothing. And if it was Owen Weiller, i was giving nothing. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the room, looking back to see him fuming behind me. I kept moving after that, making it to the door of the art room as the bell rang. I stomped my foot and swore, changing direction and going to my locker. I shoved my books in, yanking the ones I needed out with more force than I needed to. Slamming the door closed, I charged off to meet everyone before strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back against a hard chest.

"Taylor." I relaxed at the sound of the voice behind me.

"Derek. What's up?"

"Walk with me." He let me go and took my hand, walking next to me and looking at the top of my head. Derek was always easy to talk to. He came off as apathetic and cold a lot of times, but he cared. He was also a great listener. I mustered enough courage to look him in the eye while I spoke, and told him everything from drawing Jesse to slamming my locker. Throughout the time it took to tell him what happened, he just nodded and kept silent, only interrupting to ask a question or two to clarify what I told him.

"So what do you think?" I was swinging our joined hands back and forth, waiting for the advice that I knew he would give.

"Maybe you're just seeing what you want to see when you look at Owen. You're seeing what everyone else sees. A jock, an attractive, popular guy. Appearances can be deceiving, Taylor. Remember that."

I nodded and looked at my feet, letting him lead me into the parking lot where our friends would be waiting. When we saw them, we untangled our hands and walked at our own paces. Derek, striding forward, and me following a few feet behind.

Everyone was leaning on Derek's car, propped up as close to the seat they wanted as they could get from outside. I smiled, a cacophony of greetings sounding as we drew closer to the group. My eyes drifted over our group. Aaron Thomas, sneak. David Corwin, our court jester. Satier Madsen, cool and detatched. Mason Fuller, teddy bear. Holly Fuller, my best gal pal. Jesse Sawyer, jittery and anxious. Then there was me. The tomboy. Evening us all out, was Derek Samson. He was the leader, and we all looked up to him. We'd grown up together, depended on eachother. He supported everyone in everything.

I went to stand by Jesse, but Derek grabbed my arm above the elbow, pulling me back to him. "I think you need to talk to someone else right now."

Turning around, I wrinkled my brow in confusion, looking at Derek questioningly. He tilted his head, indicating someone in that direction. I looked over, and saw Owen watching me, his lips drawn into an angry line. I gulped. "Um...M-maybe later?"

Derek put a hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. "Wave if you have a ride."

I stumbled in the general direction of Owen, my fingernails making red crescents in my palm. When I reached him, I shuffled my feet and looked at his chest, not ready to look him in the eye. He put a hand under my chin and tilted my face up until I looked him in the eyes. They looked like storm clouds, angry and brooding.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

"Who?"

He scowled at me, and I felt his anger like a living thing, thickening the air. "That guy. Brown hair, a little taller than me. You were holding hands."

"Derek? No! God, no. We're just friends. We were just talking," He eyed me skeptically. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, but it was jerky and angry. "Just wondering."

I looked at him. He sighed and just like that all the anger leaked out of him. His eyes cleared, like the sun coming out after the rain, brighter, happier. His body loosened up, became more relaxed. My breath eased out slowly. I relaxed as well, feeling the mood lighten. We looked at eachother and smiled. He finally looked a little shy, opening his mouth as if to say something, closing it before a word escaped. He coughed once, then looked me in the eyes, "Can I give you a ride?"

"I have a ride." I looked back behind me, at my friends. At my world. At the differences between us. I looked back at him, and he nodded, deflated.

"Yeah, I know. But could you ride with me, maybe?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

I glared, but he just smiled at me. I found myself grinning back. Damn it. "Alright, but if I do, you have to ride with us tomorrow."

His smile faltered, but he nodded. "Deal."

He opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed into the car. I watched him walk around to his side and get in, hearing the engine rumble as it started up. He looked over at me, and I forgot about him never speaking to me. I forgot about him taking my hat and my book and making fun of me and Jesse. He leaned toward me and I forgot to wave to Derek, to let him know I was riding with someone else today. His lips brushed mine, and I just forgot everything. I let him drive me away, and I felt lighter, less weighed down. I just let myself forget it all.