This chapter is in Wanda's point of view, which the rest of the story will be, for the most part. If it is in another point of view, I will mention it at the start of the chapter.

Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Chapter 1- five years later

I yawned, letting my arms stretch out as my spine cracked. It was the first day of summer vacation, and I had a solid two months before I had to go back to school and worry about my final year. I intended to make the best of it.

My eyes widened as they spotted the clock hanging above the kitchen sink. I had slept in longer than I thought. It was almost eleven already.

As I went about fixing myself a bowl of cereal, I heard movement on the front porch. Mr. and Mrs. Stryder were both at work today, so I assumed it was Melanie. Jamie wasn't likely to be up for another half hour at least.

"Wanda?" The door creaked open, then swung shut. I couldn't help but smile as I listened to the sound of Melanie taking her shoes off, walking towards the kitchen.

"In here!" I called, and sat down at the breakfast table, biting into my flakes.

A red-faced Melanie popped her head into the kitchen. "Sorry, I was on a run. Is Jamie up yet?"

Caught with my mouth full, I just shook her head. This got a laugh from my godsister, as she slid into the place beside me.

In the last few years, Melanie had grown into a strong, tall woman of twenty-one, with long brown hair, suntanned skin, and a smiling mouth. She had been popular with the boys while she had been in school, and that hadn't changed.

She had also been able to outrun every single one of them. That hadn't changed, either.

Sitting next to me, the stark contrast between Melanie Stryder and me, Wanda Spinner, was almost comical. I tended to look even younger than my seventeen years, with my pale complexion and small build, which I knew gave me a delicate, almost breakable feel. My hair was light, curly and soft, and Melanie always described my bright blue eyes as impossible to distrust.

If you were to glance under the table, you would see my too-skinny, weirdly-bent legs. You would also see the twin canes that reached up to tie around my wrists with little clear strings. You may also pick up on the intense determination in both of the us unrelated sisters. It was the one obvious thing we had in common.

The nurse that had first talked to Mrs. Stryder had been right- I would never walk normally again. Both of my legs were mangled beyond repair, hardly capable of holding my own weight. I was stuck with shuffling through life, relying on the canes tied to my wrists to support me, where my shattered legs could not.

The hardest part, if anyone cared to ask, was the pity I always saw in people's gazes. The way their eyes would flash from my face to my legs and back again. People touched me as if I were about to- to crumble at any given moment.

And what aggravated me even more was the people who shied away. I could tell that they were afraid. Afraid to talk to such a gimp, such a vulnerable little girl. Relationships were dangerous, they reasoned. With unfortunates like that, who knows when they might disappear, leaving you all alone?

"Any plans today, Mel?" I questioned, though I suppose I could already guess. I knew my assumption was well-founded when the red in Melanie's face deepened, and a smile that had nothing to with me crept onto Mel's face.

"Jared's picking me up. We're going hiking, then out for a late lunch." She smiled again, and her eyes glazed over as she stared into space. A usual occurrence when Jared was mentioned.

It was hard to believe they'd been going out for almost two years now. They still acted like every second was theirs, something that faded in most couples within weeks. I felt invasive when the three of them were in the same room.

There was just one problem...

The doorbell rang, and I watched with no little amusement as Melanie's face dropped.

"I suppose he's early," she commented lightly. Mel just scowled at her.

"Get the door slow, okay? And tell him I'll be right down."

She was running upstairs before I could even open my eyes to agree. I rolled my eyes, smiling, then began the painfully slow walk to the front door.

The doorbell rang again when I had made it halfway. If Jared had known it was me getting the door, he wouldn't have bothered to ring again. He was the only person I knew, outside of my own foster family, that didn't treat me differently just because of my- disability. Jared didn't act like I something already broken. It was why I liked him so much. Which was, of course, part of the problem.

Pulling the door open, I was met with Jared's annoyed face. The annoyance dropped as soon as he saw it was me, making my heart beat faster.

"Hey, Wanda! Is Mel there?"

I nodded, suddenly shy. "She'll be down in a moment."

Jared smiled, then walked towards the kitchen, closing the door behind him. I struggled to follow, mentally cursing as my legs refused to listen to my brain's signals.

Footsteps in the kitchen. "Oh, hey Jared!"

That was Jamie. He was the youngest, at fourteen, and he worshiped Jared, who treated him like the brother the kid needed, what with two older sisters hanging around.

"Hey, kid." Was Jared's reply.

"Mel knows you're here, right?" Jamie raised his voice, "Mel! Jared's here!"

"Tell him he's early!" Came the muted reply. Jamie laughed, and I knew that Jared would be smiling, too. Just being near Melanie was enough to do that to them. They seemed to be built for each other.

Finally stepping into the kitchen, my heart started beating faster again. Jared's back was turned to me, as he bent down to Jamie's level. With that increased speed came an odd sort of pain. One I had grown used to, ever since I realized the problem.

I was in love with my sister's boyfriend.

"Hey, Wanda!" Jamie waved wildly at me. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep. Just seeing him was enough to place a smile on my lips. Jamie had always had that effect on me. Though he had really only been my brother for the last five years, we were as close as blood siblings.

Jamie, with his youthful ideas, had no problem accepting me as a new member of the family. He had been the first to welcome me, for which I was forever grateful.

"Morning, Jamie." I leaned against the counter, making sure none of the stiffness of my legs showed on my face. Jamie got worried if he thought I was in pain, and he was much more perceptive than most kids his age.

Even with my caution, Jamie's eyes narrowed. Luckily, Mel interrupted his gaze, as she rushed down the stairs. Long fingers were still combing through her wet hair. "Of all the guys, I get the one that actually arrives on time..." She was muttering under her breath, a habit that she never confessed to having. Freezing at the bottom of the stairs, she glared at the three of us. "What?"

Jared moved towards her, and even Mel couldn't keep the irritation on her face. Her eyes matched his, with a deep warmth that even bystanders could feel.

I looked at the ground, and felt my cheeks heating. Not that they would notice. The two were built for each other. Anyone who looked at them could see it.

As Jared, one arm around Melanie's hips, the other brushing hair from her face, escorted her to the door, I wondered as to where that left me. Alone was the obvious answer, though one that was neither pleasant nor helpful.

"What're you doing today, Wanda?"

Jamie's innocent question brought me back to the moment, and I smiled at him. "I don't know. What are you doing?"

He shrugged, turning back towards his cereal. "I was going to go to the park with a couple friends. We were going to try to get enough for a game." Jamie loved soccer, and was forever goading those around him to play. "Want to come watch?"

How could I say no to those pleading eyes?

"Sure."

I was rewarded with a wide grin, as he began to shovel food into his mouth even faster. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight, before heading upstairs to get dressed. The park was close enough that I could manage with just my walkers, on a good day. But I could already feel muscles complaining, as I struggled up the stairs. It would have to be the chair. I suppose the real luck was that the park was even accessible to wheelchairs.

I hated using mine, though. It made me feel so much more helpless. Useless. A burden.

By the time I had gotten dressed and lumbered down the stairs again, Jamie had gotten all ready, and even pulled my chair from the closet. He turned when he heard me, and there was excitement in his eyes. He had a ball under one arm already, boots dangling from two fingers.

"Ready, then?"

I nodded, making a face as I slipped into the wheelchair, and began to take the canes off of my wrists.

Jamie offered to push me there, but I shook my head, and began maneuvering down the ramp that Mr. Stryder had made to replace the front steps, after finding out that sometimes even two walkers would not be enough to keep me mobile.

I watched Jamie skip ahead, juggling the ball as he walked, and reveled in the summer day's heat. A large moving van rumbled by us, and surprised me by turning into the driveway across from us. So, someone had finally bought the Rauden house. That was interesting, but not something I cared about, really.

"Wanda, you see that?" Jamie had turned to face me, and there was that curiosity that often led to trouble for those around him. "I wonder if they've got kids?"

I just shrugged, catching up to him. "I suppose we'll find out pretty quick."

Jamie's eyes were still on the truck, as the drivers got out and began to full furniture from it. I nudged him with an arm, disturbing his staring. "Aren't your buddies waiting?"

He gave a little start, before nodding, and beginning to jog off in the directing of the field. "Meet you there!" He called over his shoulder. I allowed myself a smirk, and began to follow him.

By the time I got there, the boys- around ten in all- had just finished dividing themselves into teams. I watched in amusement as an argument broke out, before being quietly sorted by a whispered line from Jamie. I admit I might be a bit prejudiced, but it seemed almost impossible to not like Jamie. He had a certain feel to him that pulled at others. You could see it in the faces of his friends, even though they might not realize it themselves.

The ball was placed, and then the game was off. I watched the ball flit from player to player, smiling at the loud catcalls the boys shouted at each other, a good portion coming from Jamie's own mouth.

The play completely absorbed me, so that I didn't notice the steady footsteps walk down the path towards me, before stopping, faltering as their owner was surprised. It was almost a full minute before they recovered enough to continue, though the steps were slower, lingering.

If I had turned around, would I have noticed anything of significance? I wonder. Instead, I pulled my hands together, applauding Jamie's latest successful attempt at the net.

But I can't help but pull out the 'What if...', if I had only turned around.