A/N Hey, lovelies~! Sorry for my weird format. I'm still getting the hang of this. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two

I like the café a few blocks away from my school. The floor and walls are black, and the chairs are white. The windows are tinted, so it seems as if I'm almost normal. Almost. After all, knowing why I come here is enough to recall my messed up nature. To escape is nothing. Not to escape is nothing. –Louise Bogan That's just how life works. We'll never get what we want.

Unfamiliar passerby start to cross my view, and I look at the clock. I've been thinking for too long; I'm going to be late for my art class. I grab the white mug and chug the last of my black coffee. Then I leave my utopia behind.

"Maya," Ms. Kossal scolds. "You're late."

"Sorry," I mumble. "It won't happen again." And I do mean it. I love art too much to ditch the class.

She studies my visage for a moment before saying, "Okay. I trust you, Maya." Then she smiles and whispers, "I'll let this pass because you're my favorite student."

I return her smile genuinely and sit in my seat. Ms. Kossal continues as if I never interrupted. "As I was saying, you have a new project that is worth half of your grade. Work in partners to capture something that you feel passionate about."

Some kid in a neon color shirt asks, "May we choose our partners?"

Ms. Kossal smiles warmly but answers, "Nope! I already assigned each of you a partner. Listen for your name." She reads off a list, and some people cheer, some groan. I don't care who I have to work with as long as it's not—

"Maya," Ms. Kossal says. "You'll be with Lucas."

—Lucas. I look at him from across the room, and he grins and waves. We have not spoken in many years, not since I chose Riley over him. So what I had a crush on him? Best friends are supposed to pick each other no matter what. But now I lost Riley and have to work with Lucas. Oh, the irony.

I jerk my head away and stare daggers at Ms. Kossal who is either oblivious or apathetic to my glare. I almost hate art class. Almost.

I'm in the library, cramming for my Bio test, because I find it the only place I can relax. I never would have thought I would love books, but ever since I had Harper in eighth grade, I can't get enough of them. The temptation to grab one and read it makes me study harder. It doesn't make sense, yes, but—hey, it works.

I'm completely focused on the Calvin Cycle when I feel a hand tap my shoulder. I jump then turn around to see Lucas Friar. You'd think after all these years, his crooked smile would lose its effects on me, but I feel my cheeks begin to flush. I look away so he doesn't notice.

"Now, is that really any way to treat a friend, Shortstack?" Lucas says with a smirk.

"We're not friends," I reply coolly, disregarding the way he's speaking as though I never shunned him. "What do you want?"

"Um, we have a project together."

Shit. I forgot. "Er, right. I knew that. What about it?"

"When should we work on it?"

"When I figure out what passion I have other than art."

Lucas chuckles, making sure he doesn't laugh too loudly because, well, we are in a library. "But seriously."

"Who said I was joking?"

Lucas' face falls. "You're serious? You still haven't found anything you really like after all this time?"

I shrug. "If it helps, I like books. I just wouldn't call it a passion."

"Alright then," Lucas says with a determined glint in his eyes. "Meet me here at this exact spot tomorrow at 3:00."

"Lucas," I say. "We can't paint in here."

"Who says we're staying here after we meet?" he asks innocently. "And who says we're painting?"

I don't like that mischievous look he's wearing. "…What do you mean?"

"You'll find out," he says eerily. "Just meet me here. Tomorrow. At three."

He leaves without another word.