I'm really liking the way everything is turning out for this story. Hopefully all of you do too. I know it is just the beginning, but I already feel good about where this is heading. I am also really getting into writing a lot lately.

I hope everyone is interested in this as much as I am. Well, probably not AS much, but interested in it in some way.

So a lot is introduced in this chapter that will be very different from Angels and Wolves. I hope everyone is embracing the changes. If not then oh well.

Anyways read on! :)

"Life asked Death, "Why do people love me and hate you?"

Death replied, "Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth.""

Chapter 2

Surprises

I couldn't stop grinning on the ride home from school. Mom probably thought I had lost it since I was staring at my palm like it was the most fascinating thing in the entire world. The only reason why it was so fascinating was because of the phone number that was scribbled on it in black ink. Embry had written it on my hand while he waited for my ride to pick me up. He seemed so disappointed that he couldn't walk me home, but I promised him that he could tomorrow. And yet I still felt like that would be too much time spent without seeing him. I was pathetic.

"Okay you definitely have to tell me what happened today," my mom asked as she drove.

I ran my finger over my palm and stared out the window as I explained everything to her from meeting Dominica to how my classes were and how much I enjoyed photography already. I talked about everything I saw and described each of my teachers to her, smiling the whole time I spoke. I told her about Embry after everything else, and showed her my hand excitedly. She didn't seem nearly as fascinated by it as I was and wasn't nearly as thrilled as she had been when I talked about my classes or the friends I had made. A look of concern seemed to flit across her face, and I sank back into my seat when I realized why it was there. When we pulled into the driveway both of us unbuckled our seatbelts without making any attempt to get out of the car.

My eyes travelled their way to the window again because I couldn't look at her when she talked about it. I couldn't stand to see the worry in her eyes, and as I waited for her to begin I regretted ever mentioning Embry. Even though I didn't quite know how I felt about him I knew that she would connect any guy I ever talked to right back to Caleb.

"Ali," my mom placed her hand on my knee and I crossed my arms over my chest to keep myself together. I wasn't expecting to talk about this. Not at all.

"I'm okay. Really, I am."

It didn't seem to convince her one bit, "Are you sure?"

I rested my forehead up against the glass, welcoming the cold feeling, "It's been almost a year."

She squeezed my knee to try to comfort me. I didn't want the comfort. I didn't need it. I was dealing with it all, moving on.

"I know it has, and you've been so strong," I closed my eyes to prevent the tears from falling, tightening my arms around my torso as if it would soak up the salt water, "Do you think you're ready for something like that again?"

That was the last thing I thought she would say to me.

I looked at her over my shoulder with my eyes narrowed, "It's not even the same mom. I just met Embry today. It's been one day, that doesn't mean it will lead to anything at all."

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"We're just friends," I gritted my teeth, "I thought you wanted me to move on. I thought you wanted me to be normal."

She nodded, "I do, I just don't want you to jump into anything too quickly."

"I'm not breakable anymore mom. You don't have to treat me like I am."

"Honey, I know-,"

"Then why are you doing this?!" my voice was much louder than I intended it to be, and I sounded much angrier than I actually felt, "Why do you always have to bring it up?"

"You loved Caleb," she said quietly.

And I did love him. I loved him right up until the end, which was probably my biggest downfall. I should've known better than to love someone who was going to die.

"I did, but he's gone. I'm learning to let go," I grabbed my backpack from in between my legs and opened the door, "and you should learn how to let me."

I was practically in tears as I waited for my few hours of hell to begin. It was stupid, but I couldn't help myself. This was my first chemotherapy session and everything I have ever heard about chemo before has not been good. The nausea, the fatigue, the pain as they injected the poison, it was all pointing towards impending doom. I bit my nails as I looked around the room at all of the people who were in the same position as I was. It wasn't until my eyes landed on the boy next to me that I stopped. He was already into his session and looked to be around my age, which made me feel like I wasn't so alone in this in a way.

With half open eyes, he looked at me and smiled, "First day?"

"Is it that obvious?" I grinned sheepishly.

He nodded, a bed of sweat visible on his forehead, "You look like you're ready to puke."

I shook my head at him, "Ironic since they haven't even given me anything yet."

I heard him laugh for the first time and was immediately enthralled by the sound. In this terrible place, and in the position he was in he still managed to laugh. The sound of it made me feel a bit better, comforted me. If he could laugh during chemo then maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

I took in his features when I finally managed to stop destroying my nails. His blonde hair was cut short, and I noticed a few bald patches here and there on his scalp. Even with his eyes barely open I could tell they were blue, the color was striking. He had a square jaw that had been clenched the whole time, the only thing about him that indicated he was uncomfortable.

He held his hand out for me to shake and I did it immediately, "I'm Caleb."

"Alyssa," I smiled at him, "So be honest with me, how good are the cocktails here?"

"The best," he said sarcastically, "In fact, you're just in time for happy hour."

Caleb died last November from gastric cancer. They had done the chemo and radiation in the beginning and eventually took out his stomach to try to remove it. After his stomach was removed it all went downhill from there. The cancer mestasized into his liver before it moved into his lymph nodes. He had died a couple weeks before I found out that I was in remission, which was awful. It was the best news of my life, and I had received it right after hearing the worst news of my life. It was one of the reasons why I found it so difficult to be happy. I couldn't be happy if he was dead. It was wrong.

I laid on my bed and stared at the pictures that were all pinned to the cork board on the wall directly across from me for a long time. My eyes would go from one to the next repeatedly. These were all of the pictures I had of the two of us, the only reminders I have left of him. I wondered why I still kept them when I claimed that I was moving on. Would it not be the most logical thing to just throw them away? If I wanted to let go wouldn't I have to get rid of those pictures?

I always felt conflicted when it came to this. A small part of me wanted to do it, while the rest of me thought that it was good to keep them around. I always decided against getting rid of them in the end. This time was no different.

As my eyes moved from left to right I thought about how our whole relationship had occurred in a hospital. We talked during chemo sessions and laughed with each other while watching daytime television, we went on 'dates' in each other's hospital rooms and in the courtyard, we kissed in a tangle of tubes and wires. We were brought together by our disease and we were torn apart by it.

We would never know each other outside of cancer. It will always be the one thing that connects us, no matter how morbid and messed up that sounds.

I've come to terms with it all though. I've learned to deal with the facts and cherish the time I did spend with him. There's no point in focusing on all of the bad things. There's no reason to sit and cry and be angry at the world and whatever higher power there is out there for not allowing him to live a long and happy life. None of it would bring him back. His fate had been decided a long time ago.

As I thought about what my mother had said to me in the car I realized that even though I was no longer sick and even though I had spent the last nine months in remission she would never stop worrying. She was always going to be analyzing everything I did, hovering over me. She was going to do and say anything to make sure that she didn't lose me like she almost did when I was sick, when the high percentage of blast cells in my bone marrow had nearly killed me. She felt helpless while I was sick, it was obvious, and now that she could finally protect me the way she wanted to she was going to do it to the highest extent.

I could understand her side of things, but I knew she didn't have to protect me from Embry. I've had one conversation with him and I could already tell that he was good to the core. There was no chance of it ever getting to that point though, because the two of us would never become anything more than just friends. There was no way I could love someone with the thought of cancer constantly looming over my head. I was in remission, but the possibility of it returning would always be there. I was sick once, so I could become sick again. There was no way I could put someone through that sort of pain, especially someone as good as Embry.

Before I could even think of anything else my phone began to ring on the table beside my bed. I opened my eyes and snatched it up off the table. When I saw the name Amaya flashing across the screen I had to take a deep breath, letting all of my previous thoughts go as I exhaled.

I put a smile on my face as I answered, "Hey utsukushii," I waited for her to get pissed.

"Ali you nitwit! How do you manage to always butcher that word even after I've told you ten million times how to say it? Its pronounced ooh-tsoo-koo-shee not uh-tuk-sushi!"

I began laughing as she blabbered on and on about the Japanese language and how she doesn't understand why she even teaches me these words and how I could never become bilingual. I always did this to her when she called, pronouncing the word so many different ways that I couldn't even count. It always managed to make her angry, which always made me laugh. It was hard to ever feel intimidated when she was mad since she was barely five feet tall and looked about as innocent as a child with her almond shaped eyes and porcelain skin.

Amaya was my best friend, who I had been introduced to in the hospital a year and a half ago by Caleb. At the time that we met, Amaya had a tumor the size of a golf ball in her brain. The tumor was pressing against her frontal lobe, which caused her to have extreme mood swings. When Caleb had brought me into her room that first day he warned me about her, telling me that she usually got irritated when someone new came by. I went in and met her anyways. All I really had to do was tell a few jokes and use my sarcasm to get her to crack a smile. From then on the three of us were inseparable, and even after Amaya had surgery on her brain and the tumor was removed and she had gone home she still came back to visit Caleb and me. She was there for the two of us, sitting with us during chemo and visiting all the time. Even when Caleb died she was there for me.

Unfortunately, the doctors had recently discovered a few nodules in her brain again. She was currently stuck in the same position I had been in a year ago.

"Okay, while I would like to lecture you more on how to properly speak Japanese that's not the reason why I called."

"Really? It isn't?" I smiled at the ceiling.

"Oh shut up! Just tell me how your first day was!"

I let out a short laugh before I explained it all to her in detail just as I had to my mom before, leaving out the part about Embry until the very end and including the amount of staring that went on which I had left out when I told my mom. She let out a few squeaking noises when I finished with everything, which made me cringe a bit.

"On a scale from one to ten how hot is he?"

I slapped my palm onto my forehead and sighed, "Amaya," I groaned.

"Alyssa," she mocked my tone, "come on you have to tell me," she coughed a couple of times on the phone, "or else I might die before you get another chance."

"That's not funny," I said seriously.

She made an annoyed sound on the other end, "I don't care. I'm sick and stuck in a hospital bed and the best form of entertainment I have right now is guessing which nurse is going to pass my door next. It's pathetic and all I want to know is how hot this Quileute boy is."

"Alright fine," I rolled my eyes, not even having to think about my answer, "He's definitely a ten, but he's not just hot, he's completely gorgeous."

She squealed, "I can't believe this! Your first day of high school and you already have guys lining up to date you."

"He doesn't want to date me. We talked all of one time."

"And what happened during this conversation?"

I paused for a moment, knowing what she was going to say once I told her. I debated whether or not it was a good idea.

"Watashi ni kotaeru kitsunemimi!"

I rolled my eyes at the Japanese gibberish she spewed at me through the phone. The only word I recognized was the nickname she always called me by because of the color of my hair, fox girl. I always disliked it, which is what seemed to make her like it even more.

She began to shout in Japanese continuously and I pulled the phone away from my ear so that I wouldn't get irritated. I hated that she knew exactly how to push my buttons, and shouting in a language I didn't understand was one of the things that always pissed me off.

Finally, I decided to just give her what she wanted, putting the phone back up to my ear and shouting, "Ok I'll tell you! I surrender! Just shut up!" She went completely silent, and I could slightly hear her snickering on the other end, "Bitch."

"Hey, you can't call me a bitch I have cancer!"

I pursed my lips, "You are really good at playing the cancer card aren't you?"

"Just because you never used it to your advantage doesn't mean I can't. Don't try to change the subject! What did you talk about?"

"School," I answered, "then we talked about photography and his drawings and various other things," I coughed, "and," cough, "he," cough, "gave," cough, "me his," gasp for breath, "number."

"What?! And you say this kid doesn't want to date you."

I smiled and raised my palm in front of my face, staring at the smeared ink on my hand, "We're just friends, barely even that."

"Sure," she sounded way too smug, "you're coming by on Saturday right?"

I blinked a few times to clear my Embry infested brain, "Yeah, of course."

"Good, then we can talk about it then. I'm sure he'll ask you out by the end of the week."

"Amaya, I'm serious. I can't even think about dating anyone right now," the words felt wrong when I said them. It felt like my heart and my head were not agreeing on that at all. Then again, my heart and my head haven't been agreeing on much of anything lately.

"Why? Because of Caleb?" she didn't even hesitate to say his name. She had always been the stronger one out of the two of us. While I fell into a depression after he had died she had been the one that helped pull me out of it, despite the fact that she had lost him as much as I had.

"No," I shook my head and groaned, "I don't know partially I guess. He's just too good, way too good for someone like me. Every girl in that school is head over heels for him, and I…I'm just…"

"A girl who had cancer," she finished for me.

It was more than that though. There's always the possibility that the cancer could come back. It's something that I fear will happen to me. The reason I didn't correct her was because I knew it would make her feel terrible, since that's exactly what happened to her. She had cancer, it went away, and then it came back. It could happen to me too. I didn't want to get involved with someone when there was always a chance of that.

"With Caleb it was simple. We were both on a level playing field."

"Yeah," she agreed, the weakness in her voice showing for the second time, "You remember that guy I was dating when I first met you?"

I chuckled, "The guy I nicknamed death breath?"

It was her turn to feel embarrassed, "It wasn't that terrible!"

"Says the one who fed him mints every time she saw him."

The two of us laughed at the memories for a couple of minutes, and after our laughing fit was finished she went on, "Anyways, we had been dating before I found out about the tumor. We were at a level playing field when the two of us met. You remember when we broke up right?"

I nodded, "Yes," I remembered it all too well. He had broken up with her only a day after she told him about the tumor. He said that he wanted to focus on school and baseball and couldn't have a girlfriend at the time, which was total bullshit. All of us knew the real reason why he did it.

"That's what horrible people do to you Ali. They let you go as soon as things get bad. The thing about death breath was that I knew it wouldn't last, and I knew nothing would come of it in the end. I just kept it going because it felt good to have someone you know?" I hummed in agreement, "What I'm trying to say is that it's easy to tell who's going to stick by you when things turn to shit and who's going to leave you in the dirt to rot. It's the ones who surprise us most that stick by our sides, because they defy everything we have become accustomed to. The ones who are predictable are the ones who run, because they obey our everyday routine."

I took a moment to absorb what she was saying to me, trying to understand what it all meant. Those who do the unexpected are the ones who stay; those who do what we expect them to are the ones who leave. Caleb had cancer, he was sick and there was a lot that pinpointed to his demise. The result of our relationship was one that I could've predicted from the beginning. He died, which was in its own way him leaving me.

"Did you read that off of a website or something?" I asked.

She gasped overdramatically, "I am so hurt that you think I can't come up with something like that on my own. You're just jealous."

"Yeah, I really am."

"You know I'm right though," she said seriously, "Death breath did everything I knew he would do. He left me in the dirt, but I'm fine with that, because I knew it was going to happen. I was expecting it from him," I rolled onto my side and looked at the pictures on the cork board as I listened to her, "So now it's your turn to figure these things out. If Embry is like every other guy out there then you'll know and you won't have to waste your time. If not, then just be ready for a whole bunch of surprises."

She had no idea that Embry already had surprised me just by choosing to talk to me today. If what Amaya was saying was true, then things were not going to be simple when it came to Embry Call.

I managed to fall asleep for about a half an hour after dinner. The only reason why I woke up was because Kevin decided to come into my room and continuously poke my cheek. At first I acted as if I wasn't affected by it, but then he persisted to poke me and eventually began chanting 'sissy' right next to my ear.

I opened one eye before I closed it again, which caused him to giggle in response. I did it again and he laughed once more. The chanting suddenly stopped when I finally opened my eyes for good and he smiled at me in a way that always made my heart melt. He was wearing his spider man pajamas and clutching onto his baby blanket, which indicated that he had already gotten a bath and it was probably close to seven by now.

"Can I lay with you?" he whispered.

I nodded and scooted over a bit as he climbed his way into my bed. I snuggled right up next to him and buried my face in his baby shampoo filled hair. He didn't lie still for too long and ended up turning so that he was facing me, his brown eyes looking a bit droopy.

"Aren't you tired?" I asked him.

"No," he scrunched his nose, "I want to stay awake."

I smiled, knowing that he would say that. Lately he had been coming in here right before his bedtime, falling asleep beside me. All I had to do was hum a bit and run my nails back and forth along his arm to get him to drift off. This time was no exception.

Once I knew he was in a deep sleep I picked him up in my arms and carried him into his own bed. I tucked him underneath the sheets and kissed him on the forehead before I headed back to my room. As soon as I walked through the door I noticed that my phone was vibrating and lighting up on my dresser where I had left it. When I grabbed the phone and saw the number on the screen I nearly died.

It was the same number that I had been staring at on my hand all day long, and even though I didn't have the opportunity to put his name into my contact list I knew it was him. I already had his number memorized, which was pathetic.

I flopped down on my bed and took a deep breath before I answered the call, "Hey." I said, trying not to freak out about the fact that I was actually talking to him again.

"What's your favorite color?"

The question caught me off guard, and the sound of crickets filled up the room from my lack of a response, "Uh, what?"

"What's your favorite color?" he asked again.

I rutted my brows, "Purple I guess."

"You guess? You can't guess what your favorite color is, you just have to know."

I was completely bewildered by how this conversation was starting off, "Okay fine, it's purple. Definitely purple. Everything purple is great and wonderful."

He laughed, he actually laughed, "Purple it is."

My eyes darted around the room when all I heard was a bunch of mumbles from his end, "Why are you even asking?"

"Favorite flower?" he ignored my question completely.

"Um, roses," the confusion was written all over my face.

"Alyssa," my heart stuttered when he said my name, "really? Roses? That's the most cliché shit I've ever heard."

Even though I didn't understand anything that was happening I decided it would be best to just play along, "Not those kinds of roses. There are so many different species of roses in the world and everyone assumes there's only one. It's so offensive."

"So what type of roses do you like?"

"I like Chinese tea roses," I said, "because they actually smell like tea."

"Really?"

"Mhm," I couldn't keep the smile off of my face as I spoke, "so why are you asking me what my favorite color is and what my favorite flowers are?"

"Favorite shape?" he asked.

"Shape? Who asks people what their favorite shape is?"

"I do," he said it so nonchalantly, like I was stupid for not asking everyone that question.

"Well this is going to have to take some thought," I tapped my chin as if I were thinking hard about what I would say, "I like hexagons."

"Hexagons?"

"Yeah, hexagons. They're like wannabe stop signs."

He laughed again, the sound like music to my ears, "That's actually pretty accurate."

I let out my own little chuckle, feeling more comfortable each second I was on the phone with him. Talking to him was easier than I thought it would be. After how badly my heart was freaking out just from seeing his number on my phone I didn't think I could actually pull it off. I guess since Embry's choice of topic wasn't all that intimidating I didn't have to feel apprehensive about what he would think about what I was saying to him.

"What's your favorite shape Embry?"

Finally, he answered one of my questions, "Circle."

"Why is that?" I asked.

He didn't even hesitate when he responded, "Because circles are infinite, whereas every other shape has sides that end at a certain point. Circles are pretty badass if you ask me."

"I don't think people usually describe circles as being badass."

"Well, they are," he replied, most likely smirking right now, "Have you looked through your pictures yet?"

I had to think for a moment before I responded, his quick change in subject catching me off guard just as his beginning choice of topic had. I had almost forgotten about the small assignment Ms S. had given us to have done by the end of the week, which included picking a few of our pictures we had taken in class so that we could develop them, "No not yet," I moved to the edge of the bed and got up to get the camera, "she said we have to choose four right?"

"Yeah, four. I can't seem to choose which ones I like though."

I laid on my stomach on top of the mattress, putting the phone on speaker as I turned on the camera, "What did you take pictures of?"

He muttered a single word on the other line that I couldn't quite hear, "What?"

There was just silence on his end.

I grabbed my phone to be sure that he didn't hang up or I didn't accidentally press anything. As I was examining the phone he spoke again, clearer this time, "You."

The phone slipped out of my hands and hit the floor with a loud thud. I thought that my heart might've burst, because it seemed as if I was in some state of shock. It took me a bit of time to finally process what all of this meant, and the horror of the situation caused my cheeks to turn red, beet red.

"Are you still there?" I heard his voice coming from the floor and I reached down and picked up the phone immediately.

"You idiot! Those were a joke! You can't use me for your project! That's gross and disgusting and UGH! Just delete those pictures! Delete them now!"

Instead of him cooperating with me like I expected him to do he just laughed instead, "There's no way in hell I'm deleting these."

I wanted to punch him so bad, "Embry! I hate you! I really do!"

"No you don't," I heard him gasp, "I'm definitely using this one!"

"Hey!" I screamed, "Stop that you pervert."

"How am I a pervert?"

"You took pictures of me without my consent and now you're looking at them, alone in your room like a pervert!"

He continued to snicker at me, "You sound really cute when you're mad."

I didn't know what to say back to him, I was too furious to respond, or at least that's what I had forced myself to believe. I think I was baffled by his unexpected compliment more than anything though.

Surprises, I thought, remembering what Amaya had told me.

I stayed quiet as he continued to embarrass me by commenting on the pictures, the compliments being thrown at me left and right. My cheeks were practically on fire at this point, and I'm sure if my parents came into the room right now they would take me to the hospital because I probably felt like I had a fever.

I tried my best to come up with something that would make him stop. Anything would do at this point. The light bulb suddenly went off, flashing madly from the simple solution.

"Bye Embry," and I hung up the phone without another word.

My heart began to sink more and more from the disconnection. I grabbed my pillow from behind me and smashed my face into it, screaming loudly to let out my frustration. It wasn't exactly frustration towards him, mostly frustration towards myself for reacting the way I did, because I didn't understand why he made me feel this way. Why he could make me feel so good about myself and feel so insecure all at the same time and still have me yearning to spend every moment feeling that way. I didn't understand why I felt invisible strings beginning to tug at me the moment his voice had disappeared. Why oh why did Embry Call have this effect on me?

I could hear the phone begin to vibrate on the bed and I allowed myself to smile even though it seemed like my lips were wobbling in protest. He was going have to wait until tomorrow to talk to me. I was going to give him the cold shoulder the rest of the night just to make him think that I was really angry, which would hopefully get him to delete those pictures.

He called four times and I ignored each one of them as my curiosity got the best of me and I began to look through my camera. I wasn't going to lie, I stopped for about five minutes on each of the ones I took of Embry. I couldn't help myself, because really it was just payback for what he was doing to me. Ok, it really wasn't, I was only doing it because I was mesmerized by his gorgeousness, but I will never openly admit that…

It wasn't until I was already settled to go to sleep that he resorted to sending me an endless amount of text messages.

You have a pretty smile.

I think you should text me back so we can talk about how great you look in these pictures.

We should Photoshop the pictures we took of each other so that it looks like we're in them together.

Hey! I'm going to delete the pictures! You should call me now!

Just kidding I'm not deleting them. You should call me now!

I'm just going to keep texting you so you can't sleep.

H

I

A

L

Y

UGH! That jerk!

S

S

Nope, I'm not going to give in.

A

!

:)

I turned my phone off after receiving the smiley face, feeling a bit smug for no particular reason as I fell asleep.

My palms felt a bit sweaty as I waited for him to walk into calculus. I had to wipe them on my jeans several times because of how gross it was. My eyes stayed glued to the doorway as I gnawed on my cheek because of how nervous I was. I had been freaking out all morning about seeing him again, because I kept thinking that he would be angry with me for ignoring him instead of it being the other way around. It shouldn't hurt if he did ignore me. It shouldn't hurt at all, but it would. I knew for sure that it would.

Finally, about thirty seconds before the bell rang he strolled through the door, looking straight at me as he walked to his desk. I barely noticed that all the other girls were ogling him just like I was, but he wasn't looking at any of them. He was only looking at me, and I kept wondering why.

He slid in the seat beside me and sent a crooked smile my way, which made my anxiety about him being angry with me falter completely. He didn't have a chance to say anything to me before Mr. Collier began his lecture.

I kept my head turned towards the front of the class, writing pointless things in my notebook to make it look like I was paying attention. In reality, all I could concentrate on was the fact that he was less than ten feet away from me.

Before I could write anymore meaningless numbers on my notebook page, Embry's hand was on my desk, dropping a piece of paper in front of my eyes. I looked down at it before I looked over at him.

"Open it," he mouthed the words so he wouldn't be heard.

I peered up at the front of the room to be sure Mr. Collier wasn't looking before I unfolded the paper. On it was a beautifully intricate drawing of a Chinese tea rose with swirls of purple in the background, mixed with a bit of blue. It was nearly perfect, right down to the proper shading of each petal as the flower bent towards the non-existent light on the page. The color in the background made the white rose pop, making it look even more amazing than it would have without it.

A crumpled up piece of paper was thrown on my desk and I immediately opened it, seeing a sketch of a hexagon.

And here's a drawing of your favorite shape.

I had to cover my mouth to stifle the laugh that was travelling its way up my throat, which caused a couple of people to turn and stare at me.

I ignored their questioning gazes and grabbed my own piece of paper out of my notebook, drawing a circle that looked more like an egg than anything else.

Your flower was good, but the hexagon is amazing. You have a knack for drawing shapes. Here's a drawing of a badass circle.

I glanced at the front of the room, throwing the piece of paper at him without looking away from Mr. Collier's back.

As he read over my note a wide grin spread across his face to the point where two dimples pinched either sides of his mouth. He started to scribble on another piece of paper and I wrote a couple numbers in my notebook. I felt like a kid all over again, passing notes back and forth in class. I felt rebellious, even though it was something so simple. I felt carefree and extremely happy to be having secret conversations with Embry in the middle of our calculus lecture.

When another paper appeared on my desk I unrolled it without hesitation.

That's a terrible circle. It's not badass at all. By the way, I deleted those pictures.

I rolled my eyes, writing on the same paper he used.

LIAR!

I waited a few seconds for the paper to appear again, barely looking up this time around.

Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. The only way you'll know is if you see for yourself, which can only happen if you agree to hang out with me after school.

My fingers grasped the piece of paper tightly, causing it to rip in two. I looked over at him for a moment, noticing that he was staring back at me with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. When I started to write another response I felt my heart begin to race, and could just hear the sound of Embry's laughter beside me. I wondered if it was hammering so loudly that even he could hear it.

Okay, sure. Then I can show you all of the great pictures I took of you.

I noticed that he looked a bit flushed when he read that note over. I didn't know it was possible for someone like him to get embarrassed. With how cocky he had been acting I didn't think that underneath that would be a guy who wasn't exactly as confident as he had led on to be. I found it extremely cute. It surprised me to see him that way to say the least.

Surprises.

My lips were formed into a grin as I looked back at the drawing he had given me. I still couldn't believe that he had drawn that. Something told me that not many people knew he was so good at it. I silently hoped that I was one of the only ones who did.

Another paper landed on my desk.

Those will need to be deleted.

I shook my head and scribbled another message.

That can only happen if you agree to delete the ones of me. And was that a bit of redness I saw on your cheeks there Embry Call?

He narrowed his eyes at me and raised an eyebrow and I mimicked his expression, challenging him.

We should both just agree to disagree on the deletion of each other's photos.

I pursed my lips and tapped my foot as I read that one over. I decided not to respond with another message, mulling it over for the rest of class or at least making it look like I was. I found it very satisfying to watch him look over every couple of seconds to see if I had written something new. It was nice to be on the opposite end of the torture.

When the bell rang and class was over I put the drawing away in a safe place and grabbed the wad of paper that was on my desk. Walking to the front of the class and throwing them in the trash. I saw Embry come up right behind me and smiled as he followed me out of the room.

"So are you agreeing to allow me to keep my pictures of you?"

I looked up at him and shrugged, "As much as I hate it, yes I am. So now I can keep my pictures of you."

He sighed, "As much as I hate it," he held out his hand and I shook it, flinching from the extreme difference in body temperature.

"You have a really pretty smile," I teased him like he teased me last night, "Although, the close ups I have of you reveal all of your nose hairs and I swear I saw a booger in one of them."

He shoved me playfully and I found enjoyment in watching his face fall, "You know you're not as nice as I thought you were."

I chuckled, "You embarrassed me last night so now it's my turn to embarrass you."

He grinned and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, squishing me right up against his side, "I think you and I are the perfect match."

I took his words as something a friend would say to a friend, not allowing myself to believe they could mean anything more.

"We are just two peas in a pod," I smiled up at him, our eyes connecting for the first time today.

Little did I know, his words held more honesty to them than I could ever imagine.

So what did everyone think? I really loved this chapter. It was lots of fun to write the interaction between Embry and Ali.

What did you think of the couple new characters I introduced? I will be talking more about Caleb in chapters to come. And Amaya will also be included in this story in the future.

Please if you could and if you have the time leave a review! I would like to see what you guys are thinking and whether it is worth it for me to continue the story. I hope everyone who has read Angels and Wolves is not disappointed. I know this is very different from that story, but like I said my writing has changed since I last wrote for it.

So please REVIEW! Or just favorite/alert the story. Anything is greatly appreciated and not overlooked.

Oh yeah and the word Ali used to greet Amaya in the beginning of their phone conversation is the Japanese word for beautiful if anyone was curious.

:)