I'm a morning person. Always have been, always will be.

My favorite part of the day is undeniably dawn. The sky becomes the most beautiful color at 5:20 a.m. and I set my alarm clock to observe the change.

At 5:20 a.m. the sky is just changing from black to deep navy. I stare out the little window as the navy bleeds into royal blue which eventually changes to an almost green/grey blue. Breathtaking.

I sat in the tiny window sill of my dorm with my knees drawn into my chest and my arms wrapped around my shins. My jaw cracked in a yawn and I rested my chin on my knee. As the sun cast its yellow light onto me, inching up my bare legs, I felt at peace.

I pretended I wasn't an orphan, nor was I going to have to return to an empty house I had once shared with my parents after graduation. I pretended I wouldn't have to leave my friends for the no-longer-homey beaches of California. I pretended Brett and I were actually blissfully happy and someone loved me.

Was it a crime to wish for that? I sometimes thought so. I really am uncertain if I would be capable of love. Oh, sure, I loved Vic. And Jenny, Lily, Jordan, and Amelia but it wasn't soul-revealing love like it could be with a guy you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The kind of love my mom and dad had. Can I accomplish that after the rollercoaster that was and still is, my life. Unlikely, but it's possible.

My friends, who were much like sisters, were content to know and befriend the current Aurora. Did they have a clue about former Aurora? The laughing, skipping, joking, disgustingly thrilled-with-life little girl I had been before the car wreck? Or what had become of that girl after?

Nope. Not one clue.

They knew my parents died. They knew I was from Cali, and that I had lived with my aunt for awhile and that my parents had owned a vineyard and wine company. But anybody who picked up a paper in northern California after the accident could probably tell them that.

I looked over at the alarm clock. 6:30. Damn. I had been carried away with my musings and the sunrise.

I jumped down from the small windowsill and bent over and touched my toes, pleasant pain from a good stretch after a night of dancing raced through me. I straightened and grabbed a vinyl bag from the small Pottery Barn desk it had been carelessly thrown on and headed out the door.

"Hey, Ao," said Jessica Lason cheerfully.

Nobody ever calls me by my name. It's tiring.

"Morning, Jess," I said and walked with her down the hall to the communal bathroom. We received many friendly gestures on our way and I stiffened, as usual, under their careful gaze.

Boys can beat you up but girls can make you cry, I've found out. And let me just say the girls in this school are absolutely ruthless. Little, rich icicles in pretty pink colors pretending to be female humans. But really, they're hyenas or vultures or something. They're wary when you're at the top, but when you fall, they rip you to shreds and devour the pieces for temporary satisfaction.

I've never actually cried before over what they've said, but I have gotten mad on occasion by the rumors that spread about me and my friends. It just isn't right for some people to say the things they do.

Like assuming that Jordan had an improper relationship with the basketball coach, Coach Steve, just because the two talked and joked with each other. I mean, what is that?

Do the girls in my school find it amusing that Jordan and Coach Steve avoid each other like the plague ever since that rumor had everybody talking. Those people ruined a perfectly playful, older-brother relationship for no reason at all. It wasn't like anybody benefited from starting that tantalizing piece of gossip.

To say that the feeling among my school was sisterly love was obviously a lie, as you no doubt have realized.

Our school was like a competition every girl inside had unknowingly signed up for.

There was first place, "Goldens," as they call it, which is made up of about 15 senior girls. Victoria, Lily, Jenny, me, Jordan, Amelia, Jessica Lason and her friends made up this little group.

Next came the "silvers," which, I do admit, are the group I would prefer to belong to. They float cheerfully between all the little cliques without establishing any loyalties and don't often put themselves up for public inspection. They also seem to be much nicer than Jessica's group. Nobody but Victoria, Amelia, or I mess with Jess and her best friend, Courtney, and come away with our reputation intact. Well, according to most of our school my reputation is shot to hell anyway. I could honestly care less.

I left the bathroom smelling like jasmine—a clean, not overly sweet scent. I padded back to my room in a towel, my make-up light and flattering, legs smooth and shaved.

I brought the towel I had been using to rub the water out of my hair and smacked it down like a whip on Jenny's butt.

"Up, Jen," I huffed.

"Ao, knock it off," she growled into her pillow.

"It's seven o'clock," I stated, digging through my drawers.

Jeans and a small, blue lacy cami would do today. I pulled open my top drawer to reveal all different sorts of ribbons. It's a trademark of mine to tie a very thin ribbon of shocking color into my hair when it's up.

So I pulled my dark blonde hair, still wet, into a bouncing, round, loose bun and tied a black ribbon around the hair tie and tied it into a tight bow. I pulled down my side-part bangs and straightened them with a big-barreled curling iron.

The lump known as Jenny hadn't moved.

I clicked over to her bed in tasteful Prada heels and yanked her pillow out from under her and started beating her over the head with it.

"Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed angrily. Then she caught sight of her own alarm clock and she repeated the Lord's name and ran from the room, barreling past me. I walked calmly over to the door and held out the black vinyl bag. She returned and ripped it from my hand without so much as a glance at me.

For some reason unknown to me I provide the shampoo, conditioner, soap, shaving cream, razor, and toothpaste for both Jenny and I. Poor girl doesn't even go to the Starbucks down the road to get her own coffee.

So that's where I headed off to, grabbing my Louis Vitton back-pack and Chanel aviators on the way. Jenny is the reason I dress so tastefully, the girl has the touch and the eye. She—I kid you not—says that this is payment for the things I buy for her. Yet she borrows all of my clothes she can fit into. Which isn't all that much, what with me being tall and her being, well, not.

My walk was calm and peaceful for about 3 minutes when a car drove past me and stopped, reversing. Oh, god, I thought with a sigh and a roll of my eyes, I'm going to get kidnapped in Maryland after 12 years of living in California. One year spent doing some not-so-legal things, I might add.

But it turns out I was not to be kidnapped—which would be kind of flattering in a perverse way—as I had irrationally assumed. Nope, I was destined to meet Alex, Will's uncle, after I had grinded my hips into his for a half an hour the previous night. Awkward, but I tried not show it.

He drove his car next to me as I continued to walk down the sidewalk.

"Aurora," he said with a smile. "Don't you have school today?" He had to lean over the passenger seat to see me out the window.

"And you never skipped?" I asked, returning the teasing smile.

He threw back his head and laughed. He kept pacing me with his car, a Jaguar, not my style, but good nonetheless.

"Do you have any plans for today? Other than missing school of course?"

I indicated the back-pack hanging from one of my shoulders. "I'm just getting coffee, not actually skipping."

He smiled a little and nodded, looking at the road. He was lucky this wasn't a busy street. The Starbucks I was going to was around the corner of the next block up.

Suddenly, he surged forward and I was left alone. He didn't even say "see ya," or anything. Sorry if I'm not skipping, I thought, there's only a week left of school and I would prefer to go on the class trip, if it's not too much trouble.

But then he pulled into a parking space on the side of the road and got out of the car and started walking back towards me. My eyes widened behind my Chanel's but I kept walking.

"I'll go with you," he suggested with a shrug and put his hands in his jeans pockets

I pulled the back-pack up my shoulder a bit more and said, "Sure."

We walked on in silence and passed his car. "Did you think I wouldn't get in the car with you?" I looked ahead and tried to restrain a smile. I wasn't very successful though, because he chuckled a bit and I joined in softly.

I saw from the sheepish look on his face that that was indeed what he thought. Marylanders. Ha!

"You're not speaking with an innocent school girl, Mr. …," I trailed off suggestively.

"Denalkie," he supplied. Not Will's last name. He ran his fingers through his hair. Long and curly, like Will's. "But keep calling me Alex."

"Alright," I said, pulling up my aviators to rest on top of my head. It was habit to bring them along, but it wasn't really a bright morning. I would know. I was up since 5:20 watching the sun's progression.

"What's your last name?" he was studying me pretty intensely. It was unnerving.

"Stanton," I said, casting my eyes about for more people.

He pulled out a sleek cell phone. He dialed some numbers and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello, this is Mr. Alex Denalkie calling on behalf of Aurora Stanton." I gaped at him and he smiled at me. "Yes, she came to me with questions about our scholarship and I'd like to take her to lunch to discuss it."
"No, no, no," I whispered to him waving my hands in a "cease fire" manner. I happen to know the secretary hates me and knows of my future as head owner of a wine company. She thinks I won't go to college for this reason. Like I could actually own a business I know nothing about without college. The secretary's insane, in my opinion.

Alex said a few more "yes,"s and some "okay,"s.

"You're a free woman, Aurora," he said to me as he snapped his phone shut.

I looked at him incredulously. "You can't do that," I informed him. We were standing still in the center of the sidewalk. Coffee forgotten.

"Yes," he said with a smug smile. "I can."

I gave an enraged huff and turned on my heel. I was going to school today. He caught up with me easily.

"What did I do?" he seemed surprised.

"Who gave you the right to decide I didn't want to go to school today?" I demanded, rounding on him.

Yep, definitely surprised. "I thought you could use a break," he shrugged, regaining his cool.

"I have a boyfriend," this might have sounded random to a passer-by, but the way he was studying me demanded I remind him of Brett.

He actually smiled. A mean smile, but a smile. "You don't seem attached to him…" he trailed off.

"I love him with all my heart," I said dramatically and started walking again.

"Do you?" he was being amused by all of this.

"I don't see why I should tell you," I turned around to glare at him and he nearly ran into me.

"It's just one day, Rose," he said soothingly. Too bad that voice doesn't work on me. I've been to too many shrinks for the calming voice effect to get any sort of intended reaction out of me.

I considered though. He was good-looking. With a nice car. Older.

I'm not going to pretend I had feelings for the guy, but a part of me wanted to develop feelings. Not just for this guy, for any guy really.

So what can I say? I went. And we had a great time driving to, and then walking, down town, going into boutiques and getting coffee and tea at regular intervals. He wasn't a bad guy overall. A little too dominating for my tastes, but he wasn't an overly jealous man. When this one beat-up looking car with two guys around my age drove by and catcalled he laughed as I smiled at them. And we talked a lot.

So, it turns out that Alex is actually twenty-six and he owns three clubs in the urban areas that are quite successful, and he thought college was the best thing that ever happened to him, other than the many nights worshiping the Porcelain King. He hasn't gone to jail, and has no tattoos or piercings anywhere on his person and he adores baseball and basketball.

Pretty average.

I told him about myself. You know: my parents died when I was eleven and I was sent to Berkley after a year with my Aunt Colleen, my mom's youngest sister, and that I am going to be the future owner of Stanton Wine Production.

He was sympathetic about my parents and then curious about the company.

He drove me back to campus at 1:15 p.m. and pulled up in front of my friends' normal bench I directed him to.

Unfortunately, for both of us, Tyler and Victoria were now back together. Which meant our two groups were hanging out together. Will, Tyler, Jenny, Lily, Victoria, Miles, Neeko, Amelia, Jordan, Brian and Brett were sitting or standing or laying in the shade of the pine.

Many looked confused, two looked angry.

"Oh, shit," I said.

Alex pulled over and I got out of the car. I just wanted him to drive away. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"You should probably go," I suggested, looking at him through the open window. He smiled and nodded.

"See you around, Aurora," he said and I stepped away and he left the parking lot.

I didn't look at anyone in particular. "Hey, guys," and I started striding off towards the school doors.

"Oh, no you don't," said Victoria, loud enough to cause the whole yard to turn in our direction. I stopped myself from wincing. There's only one person who gets to talk to me like that and she takes full advantage of it. "You skipped school without so much as a word to anybody?" she demanded. She had half the school that was present outside in rapture.

I turned on my heel, hard to do in Prada. "I didn't get the chance to tell you," I hissed out at her so only she could hear. "He picked me up on my way to coffee. Get a grip."

"'Get a grip'?" she screamed, not caring if the world knew she was angry. "I've been worried sick and you show up with him?" she pointed back to where Alex's car had been.

"He's a nice guy Vic. And he called the school to excuse me. We walked downtown, ate and he took me back." I hissed again, glaring at her for all I was worth "We didn't so much as hold hands the entire day."

"You could have called," she was calming down and no longer screaming. That didn't mean the yard had lost interest in our fight though. If you could call it a fight. Vic and I did this sort of yelling daily. Well, she yelled.

"Oh, yeah," I said sarcastically. "During which class would you have taken the phone call?" She had Mr. Tomoskee, Government; and Mr. Hansen, Physics today. Neither were cool with cell phones in the classroom. Our days were very short as this was a year long school. Classes ended at 1:00, which was lunch hour, so we only had two long periods daily.

She just glared at me and sighed, seeming to let it drop. I knew she wouldn't though. Straight, business-like questions would come from her as soon as we were alone.

She was calm. Brett was not. Neither was Will for that matter. I guess seeing your uncle with a girl your own age is pretty strange. Especially when said girl is your friend's girlfriend.

"What was that?" Brett looked very upset. He was pointing at the spot where Alex's car had formerly been. He had not woken up expecting this to happen today.

But it was as good a day as any. I felt my hopes die just a little as I looked into Brett's normally passive face. There was no sign of the so aloof playboy anymore.

As his eyes connected with mine his arm dropped and his eyes narrowed.

"The end," I whispered to myself, looking to the ground. Vic heard it and inhaled sharply. I knew she actually had high hopes for Brett. Heck, I sure had. But there was no denying that the feelings weren't there. Not even a trace.

I walked over to him slowly, keeping my eyes somewhere near his shoulder. He was only about 5'11".

"Can we talk," I asked him.

His breathing was coming quicker and my heart tightened. His weren't the only dreams being crushed. He knew, there was no need for talk.

He bit the side of his cheek and looked over my head before setting his jaw and swallowing.

"Thorns, huh?" he asked me. Or maybe he asked himself.

That sent me over. A single tear rolled down my cheek. But not for him, so much as myself.

Why can't I love him! my heart screamed. Brett was perfect. Beautiful, smart, rich, and completely impassive. He was hardened, like me. He didn't let others get to him.

I wanted to love him. I wanted to feel it.

He stared at my tear for a long time, and it eventually fell of my jaw. He smiled a sad smile and touched his forehead to mine, cupping my neck with both of his hands.

"Do roses hurt themselves?" he sighed. A lump was in my throat so I only nodded against him. It was a rhetorical question, but it was true.