Chapter One: Grad

This was it! I couldn't believe it! Graduation!

I was spring-loaded as I catapulted out of bed, fingers already itching for the bobble-head pen I knew was tucked away somewhere amidst the sea of office supplies that would have made any other teenage girl cringe in horror. Staples would have been proud.

I stumbled across its flawlessly engineered tip, rearing majestically out of the trashcan. Charming. No doubt Caleb's handiwork. Uncommonly enough I couldn't dredge up the right sort of enthusiasm with which to tell him off this fine Monday morning. Monday. Never had that word sounded so good to my ears.

Locked and loaded, I poised the quivering fountain tip over a fresh sheet of lemon-scented paper. Meringue, if you want the details. What to say about graduation…? I mean, what wasn't there to say about graduation? For me, it meant another freshman year. I'd already gone through three of those in my life: Kindergarten, Junior High and what had been the most challenging of them all. Now that I'd surmounted those three stages, one more shouldn't have seemed like such a big deal. Of course, this was real life. The consequences weren't detentions and a slap on the wrist anymore. I should quote myself on that.

A brisk rap on the door made me jump out of my skin.

"Riss, you ready?"

"Almost, mom!" I promised, scrapping the unfinished entry and snatching my lovely, forest-green robe off its hanger on my closet door. Three cheers to being paraded downtown at high noon in full-body gowns. Hip hip, hurrah!

The sidewalk felt like molten lava through the soles of my flip-flops. I'd second-guessed myself at the door, but who needs something practical like flats or sneakers when you can go with rubber that has the consistency of paper?

"I didn't think sunscreen would be necessary," I retorted petulantly.

Shayna rolled her eyes and flashed that good-girl smile at the crowd. There were strangers, literally tourists waving at us from inside their cars! How cool was that?

"How much further?" I panted. Being wedged between the tail end and the middle, neither one of us had much of a viewpoint. I craned my neck around Kyle Pilsner's big shoulders.

"Do you see anything?"

"Oh, stop whining. We'll get there when we get there. Just…live in the moment. It's not everyday you're gonna get stared at by strange men other than your boyfriend."

"Oh, thanks," I hissed, jabbing her in the ribs. She stifled a giggle, but a snort slipped past. Kids two rows up glanced around to see what was so funny, causing a sort of domino effect. It started with Rodney Hilshire locking eyes with my best friend (and part-time swimsuit model). Of course, he probably got caught up in some fantasy he'd jacked from a Sears catalogue, and the next thing you know he was holding up the entire line. And things just went downhill from there, from Stacy Andrews being "budged in front of" as she put it, to this real weedy kid Patrick stepping on Kyle's coattail and…do I really need to explain it to you? All because of our spectacular power of allure. What?

At the door with Shay, still holding on tight to each other because neither one of us can believe we're here. Shayna briefly butted heads with her ex, whose current fling was in the line directly ahead of us and who gave Shayna the evil eye when Brock steered her off, arm-in-arm. She uttered something somewhere between a sigh and a growl as they paraded off, a picture-perfect disaster waiting to happen.

"It won't last," I lamented. She didn't buy it. As punishment I was dragged along behind her to the buffet table. I felt like a car. She was the tow truck.

"Shayna, you don't have to eat to get over him, you just have to…"

"Such a jerk!" she huffed, spewing cheesecake crumbs all over the front of my gown.

"Come on."

"Little home wrecker."

"Shay, come on, we're getting ready now. Remember? To graduate?"

Her whole face lit up. "Oh yeah," and she took off muttering without me. I watched her go with a mixture of relief and remorse. I didn't want to have to watch my best friend and I grow up and grow apart. Then a pair of hands closed over each eye.

"Guess who?"

I spun around, immediately engulfed by my boyfriend's signature Old Spice/old brandy cologne.

"Happy graduation, baby," Jared murmured, handing me the bouquet of roses. I felt like a soap opera.

I got hot all over. Like the blushing bride, only not so…bride-ish.

"I can't believe you brought me flowers! Thanks, baby."

He winked at me. "Anytime. So." He started rubbing his hands together over-eagerly. "When's this thing kick off?" I rolled my eyes.

"Don't sound so excited, its just graduation." Ha. Just graduation.

"Well, is there like, food here or…hey, food!"

"Yeah, um…" Great, so my boyfriend is a food junky. No big deal or anything, except when we move in together after graduation I was sort of hoping our lives would be normal. Oh well. Jared was worth it in a way that couldn't be described. Unless you counted the envious looks I recieved from various sophomore girls and their post-pubescent boyfriends. I trailed mindlessly after Jared to the buffet table, juggling my unwieldy bouquet in both hands. Wait, what?

There was a sort of riot taking place in front of the punch fountain. Jared had some girl by the front of her robe, while she took turns swinging at his head. Other girls – whiny, snatchy girls – were clawing their way in between them whilst the frantic grad committee hollered for security.

I heard the word bitch and bastard a lot. Obviously not from the same person.

"Jared!" It wrenched itself out of my throat before I could stop it. I watched the brunette bitch take a lethal stab at my boyfriend's foot with her five-inch stilettos, and had to rein in the uncontrollable urge to lunge at her myself. I didn't notice the sea of black parting the crowd behind us until the leather holsters came out.

"Whitney, calm down!" a porcelain blonde interjected. Her friend bore down on her with a scathing remark, then proceeded to shower Jared with the same sort of abuse.

Someone do something! my mind screamed, but my mouth wasn't doing anything about it.

"Get off me, you crazy…" I strained to hear more, but I'd lost his voice in the encroaching throng. But hers I heard, crystal clear.

"You bastard! I'm gonna f***ing sue you! You're gonna rot in jail for what you've done, you –

And the rest cut out to static inside my head.

So. Graduation day. Boyfriend (and criminally insane stalker) spending the night in jail instead of watching old horror flicks and making out on the couch with me. Terrific. I cuddled Hubby for support, but he wasn't interested in anything that didn't involve food or the next door neighbor's poodles. Is this what my life had amounted to? Was I destined for dog-ladydom? When my mom walked in and found me crashed on the couch, she did what she used to do when I was little and tucked the afghan in around my shoulders. That night, I dreamed of rose petals.

/

Jared called while I was sleeping. I pretended not to hear the phone, but after so many rings, you're pretty much obligated to check who the genius on the other end is. In this case it was my boyfriend. I still hadn't quite recovered from the shock of watching armed cops handcuff him at my graduation ceremony. It seemed almost surreal, like a dream. Maybe it was? My hand snapped up the phone before my mind could catch up.

"Hello?" I sounded almost breathless. He did too.

"Baby, baby, baby…I need you to come down here."

Even with no one there to see it, I cocked my hip indignantly.

"Is that so?"

"What are you talking about? Of course that's so; I'm in jail. So come on, bring some money from that big old bank account of yours and they'll let me go."

"I…I…I don't think so."

I felt like my mind was doing double takes. Had I really just said that? Jared was equally as stunned.

"What?"

"I said I don't think so. You brought this on yourself; you're the one who –

"Who got assaulted by a drunk-ass chick at your stupid little grad! I'm not playin' Mars, come bail my ass out."

"Ugh, I am so sick of –

"Come on, baby. Please? For me? You know you love me. And I'd do anything in the world for you…"

Oh crap. He had me right where he wanted me and he knew it. The hand clutching the phone began to shake.

"I, um…my mom's calling me, I have to go now."

"You've gotta be f-

I slammed the phone down before I could hear more.

With Jared out of mind and out of sight, I tried to focus on trivial things. Like homework.

Oh right, you're a grad. A free woman. No more homework for you. So what was I supposed to do with myself all day? Homework took up the better part of my schedule.

You could call Shayna?

But she was hung over from a party last night. A party that I didn't up attending (not that I attended many) because of my asinine boyfriend.

I love my life.

End of Part One.