Ooh another update! This story is like getting most of my attention lately LOL.

Disclaimer: Really? We're still doing this? I own no famous peoples, end of my sad discussion m'kay?

All I have to say is enjoy and review!


T H R E E


Finally after living with 3 agonizing hours of people gawking and whispering about me, lunch rolled around. The bell screeched, sounding as thankful as I was and I placed my books neatly back into my rectangular, dark green locker. I'd grown use to the small boxes by now, but they were still irritating that everything was like jammed in there. The patter of heels clanked against the floor and I turned to see Miley - smiling as usual - with another girl, as happy as her. She had ink black hair, dark brown eyes and tan, Hispanic skin. I smiled and waved, feeling shyness creep back up on me again.

"Mitchie, this is my best friend Alex Russo." She stated cheerfully. I sealed my locker and felt my arms being looped through. Miley connected us all together and we strolled to the cafeteria.

I grabbed a coke, settling it on my crème colored tray and followed the girls towards the back. We stopped at a light brown wooden table and sat down, Alex and Miley across from me. Miley began to dig into her salad, preparing to chat again.

"Ok so I warned you about Justin and his buddies right?" She questioned, glaring at the table of boys across from us. A boy with bushy, deep brown locks was sipping his water. His eyes landed over at us and Miley looked away, a swirl of pink lighting her face. He looked really familiar. Really, really familiar.

"Just a warning to stay away from the most, perverted, idiotic jerks of the school." Alex muttered, her happiness perished like Miley, and spoke with pure hatred. I almost got chills at her frigid tone and the loathing that pierced the air. Note to self: Never piss these girls off.

"Did they do something to you guys?" I asked with fright burning behind my words. They both snapped their heads to me sharply. Miley smiled, acting to be fine, though her blue eyes were dark with disgust.

"Um, n-no." Her high voice, thick with a country accent wavered. I nodded, seeing the subject was touchy and nibbled at my piece of bread. I trained my eyes to skim over their table, though I felt like some force was screaming at me to just glance. I smacked my attention against the other tables around us, ignoring the feeling of someone glaring at me.

"So, who is good to hang with?" Her layer of hate broke through and Miley giggled. Good, keep her happy. I noticed other group of boys, one with shaggy sandish colored hair that hung over his clear blue eyes and a cute, straight smile. I recognized him to be Danny from Math, who sat on my left.

"As for guys. There are very few that are safe. But I think Danny Neilson is ok." Alex pointed out, swirling her straw. Miley agreed, still giggling. Ok, Danny was good. My eyes followed over to the others sitting with him. Their names failed me, but there was a guy maybe about a year older with me with ruffled blonde hair and striking blue eyes like Miley, and another blond beside him whose hair was touched with deep brown highlights and had greenish eyes combined with hints of deep blue. All of them were attractive, but no one here really stole my interest.

"Alright that's good. I'll keep a distance from the 'danger zone'." They girls laughed and our conversation picked up on the quiz in history. As usual all the irrelevance of high school took my mind away, drifting to other things I wish would give me a moment's peace. The voices around me hushed into a background noise and ever so slightly, my gaze fell onto the "forbidden" table.

Swiftly I looked away, giving a comment to the conversation the girls were having, that only was spoken absently. "Yeah Mrs. R is really piling on the homework lately." Alex added to my comment. I couldn't help but stare at the 'dangerous' table again with curiosity gnawing at me. There was something that drew me there like a magnetic attachment.

"Tell me about it." Miley muttered, smiling. I laughed along and stood up, tray in hand. Maybe if I was farther away from Miley and Alex, they wouldn't notice my staring. I made sure to keep my face innocent.

"I'm gonna throw this out." I ambled over to the nearly full, garbage cans by the bathrooms. The stench blazed my nose as I got closer. I tossed in my left overs and slid the tray on the black pick-up basket. Footsteps that were barely audible hit my ears from behind. As I turned around I rammed into the curly hair boy and ended up on the floor. His tray hit the ground and I leaned forward, sitting up.

"I'm so sorry!" He stirred a little, his hand freezing on the tray. I watched him warily. Why did all the guys act so weird around here? I did shower this morning, leaving me with the smell of my vanilla shampoo, so why did the boys react strange to the new girl? It was irritably frustrating.

I stood up at the same time as him throwing my jumbled thoughts away and, blushing at my clumsiness. He started walking back to the cans and I realized I didn't get to see his face. Abrupt curiosity to his familiar figure was sizzling at me once more. I waited for him to face me.

He spun back around and an icy chill swept over my body. His jaw dropped about 2 feet, his eyes wide as plates. I hadn't looked into those eyes for over 5 years. The same warm, chocolate eyes that I knew as my "little brother" best friend.

"Nate." I voiced. It wasn't a question in any way. I knew the Gray boys like the back of my hand. If Nate was attending this school, his ass of a brother couldn't be far behind. Just the thought of seeing Shane again had me internally curling in disgust.

I hadn't spoken to Shane since the moment I stepped on that plane. He didn't call, e-mail, or text. And he never visited, not even a single notice of my existence on my birthday. I called multiple times with never any reply. Finally when I was 14, I gave up all together.

"Mitchie? Mitchie Torres!" Nate spoke slowly, trying to put the simple puzzle together, as his astonishment was blowing over. I felt strong arms wrap themselves, unwelcome, around my waist. He hugged me tightly.

"Oh my God! Mitchie I can't believe it's you! I missed you so much!" I was utterly shocked. I guess my anger wasn't really at Nate in any way. He did called me more than once and send me a present on all my birthdays, which I cried every time, all night. No, Nate was still my best friend.

I smiled genuinely and hugged him back. We broke apart and started bouncing up and down like 2 little kids, laughing and giggling. The tears welled up in my eyes, too unwelcome, and I smiled again. Nate Gray was really in front of me.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Everyone stared at us, unbelief written deeply on their faces. I remembered that Nate was a part of the "stay away" group, but that didn't bother me at all. He hadn't changed.

"Wait until Shane sees you. Oh! We have to get you to him right away!" Nate gripped my wrist, lightly dragging me away. I yanked back, holding us here. I wouldn't see Shane even if someone was holding a flaming machete to my throat.

"No way, fro-bro. I'm not going to speak to him!" He halted and looked at me with sadness smearing his eyes for a few seconds. I glared at my worn-out black converse to resist the sweet eyes pouring into me. I knew it would be impossible to refuse him.

"Ok, later." Nate shrugged. Before I could protest, he took me to a vacant table, farthest away from where Justin and the others were located. I suddenly felt more eyes boring into my back as I centered my attention on Nate. The sweet taste of reunion was sinking into me. Wow, I really missed him and Jason.

"First, what are you doing back in California?" Nate quizzed excitedly, a grin firm on his lips. I smiled, delighted to see him again. I thought returning here would be sure Hell, but Nate was emphatically brightening things up in my bleak days.

"My mom finally moved us back here. So we're staying." Nate nodded, slightly unfocused. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. I smiled scanning over his mature 16-year-old body. The last time I had seen him was when he was only 11 years old, and all I could say was damn. His childish, weak body had curved into toned muscles of a teenager, his young face transformed into a young man, framed by wild curls and freckles and now him towering a good 6 inches over me, when I use to dominate the height.

"Well look at you, Natey! You've changed so much! What the hell happened?!" I teased him, bumping his elbow. He chuckled. It was truly shocking when I left Nate to see him shift into something completely different and I could only imagine what he must look like.

"Puberty can do that to you. How about you? What's with the make-up and the bangs? You look more different than me!" I laughed and felt completely blissful. I tried to remember what I looked like previously, and all that came up was this ordinary and slender girl with flat brown hair that changed a bit curvy and the bangs that now dangled over my brown eyes.

"Yeah I guess I did change a lot huh? Not the tom boy anymore either?" Nate shook his head emphatically and I laughed harder.

"So why are you so eager for me to see your brother again?" I asked, trying to be apathetic. Nate sighed. Oh lovely, another touchy subject. I bit my lip, a bit afraid of what the result might be. So far, I wasn't liking Nate's reaction.

"Shane has . . . changed a lot since you left. Physically and personally. He's not the sweet, funny guy you knew. He's a total ass." I sighed, regretting bringing up the topic. That was one of my worst fears when leaving California. I had some strange feeling when I moved, things would change back here, and I went I did return everything would be screwed. Once again, so far, I was right and I didn't want to be.

"And why is that?" Nate tapped his fingers, thinking hard. My eyes flowed over to the table, searching for him. Not that I would recognize him when I saw him when he was 13, now 18.

"No one is really sure. At first he was really depressed that you left then he slowly got over it. Not completely though, cause I know he's still hurting, even after all this time. I bet he still misses you." I looked at him skeptically for a second. It was like Nate didn't really think Shane missed me, and I'll admit, that stung.

"Why do you sound so unsure?" Nate frowned, glaring off at the wall, as if he was focusing on an old, painful memory. I kept my eyes on the soda in my palms, shoving all painful memories I held away. The last thing I needed was to break down in tears. Enough crying had been done when I first moved back that night.

"We don't talk anymore. Jason and I just live with him. It's like he's a stranger that just eats and sleeps there." I felt guilt wash over me. Was it really my fault Shane had become this zombie Nate described him as?

"Was it because of me?" I inquired unable to shield the guilt and sadness that brimmed my face. Nate shook his head, patting my thigh. Like that was going to make me feel better!

"No not completely. Don't blame yourself Mo-Mo." I stiffened at the nickname and the tears flowed back, hot and heavy leaving me frozen on the inside. I covered my face, a little embarrassed.

"Y-you called me Mo-Mo!" I exclaimed feeling a light giggle brush my lips through my thick tears. Nate laughed and hugged me again. I was thankful, that he and I were still close.

But what had happened to me and Shane?