Crimson High

A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Now, onwards with Chapter three…

Chapter three

Christmas and New Year had already passed, and I was back in a steady routine. I had managed to send back presents for my three brothers, and had an emotional conversation over the phone with them. This was my first Christmas alone, and I missed my family a lot.

Life was returning back into a steady routine after the festive season, and the notes in my locker continued. Grace and I expected them, and I showed her the new one every week. I enjoyed the subtle attention I was receiving, and speculation was high amongst the four of us as to who it could possibly be.

The notes took a back burner as life progressed. It was mid February, and I had been in California five months already. It was February fourteenth. Valentine's Day had never been a huge event in my life. Raising three brothers gave me no time for a boyfriend, and I figured that no-one would really be interested in a workaholic with no spare time for fun. That Valentine's Day, a Thursday, had started off horrendously. I had slept through my alarm, and woke late. I had no time for coffee or breakfast, and my car was giving trouble. I had spent ten minutes digging around in the engine, and managed to coat my favourite jeans in engine grease. I rushed into the school, following Grace into English. She looked me up and down, and smiled in sympathy. "Rough morning, Teresa?"

I attempted a smile back as I sat down. "Just one of those days. I would kill for some coffee right now."

Rigsby turned around to look at both of us, and Grace smiled at him. He blushed, and shyly placed a wrapped package on the table in front of Grace. "Happy Valentine's Day, Grace," he mumbled, turning away.

Grace picked the gift up and opened it carefully. Inside lay a fluffy white teddy, holding a heart and smiling happily. "Thank you, Wayne," she said, beaming widely. "I love it."

I smiled at the exchange. It was really sweet of Rigsby to get her the teddy, and I knew that Craig – in all his opulent extravagance – couldn't top this kind gesture. My thoughts turned to the note from the previous day.

"Teresa, in this, the season of love, your radiant glow outshines that of everyone around. Your glowing eyes light up my day, and haunt my dreams. A single smile from you has me flying sky high. Happy Valentine's Day, darling Teresa."

I felt myself blushing at the words. They could not be for me, and I struggled to fathom who would write such notes.

Cho turned to me, pulling me from my reverie. "You look like you could use that coffee."

I chuckled dryly at his somewhat brutal honesty. I felt dreadful. "I had no time for anything this morning. I overslept, and I feel like crap."

Mr Bertram entered and began the lesson. I fought the feeling of utter exhaustion and won, managing to stay awake for the entire lesson.

I stopped at my locker for my science book. I was caught by surprise when I pulled the door open. Nestled in between my books was a steaming cup of coffee. Propped up against it was a note.

"Teresa, you looked positively exhausted this morning. Thought this would cheer you up a little. I have no idea how you like it, but I can tell from your personality that I've got it close. Enjoy your caffeine kick, and have a beautiful day."

I picked the cup up and took a sip. It was black, without sugar, and I savoured the flavour. The caffeine buzzed through my system, and I felt refreshed. I pushed the note into my bag and took the coffee with me to my next lesson. Rigsby raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

I showed the note to Grace at lunch, and her eyes went wide. "How did he know?"

I shrugged. "It's a mystery to me too. I can't even begin to fathom how someone I've never met could know how I like my coffee."

Cho glanced towards the popular table, responding to a particularly loud set of laughter. I could tell that they were being nasty about someone, because those at the nearby tables were pretending that they couldn't hear the nasty words. I looked harder, and realised that the ringleader, Patrick, was nowhere to be seen. It was Lorelei who held the reins, and she was making some nasty remark about someone. I felt a sudden chill when nearly the entire group looked in our direction. Grace turned away. "Just ignore them. It's easier than a confrontation."

Rigsby glanced at her. I could tell that Lorelei had said something to her, but figured that it was best not to ask. She would talk about it when she was ready. I had a suspicion that it had something to do with the teddy, but didn't ask questions. The bell rang, and we stood up. Grace and I headed off to our next lessons, spending the journey we had together discussing the strange cup of coffee in my locker.

I was still thinking about the coffee at work. It concerned me that someone not only had access to my locker, but also knew how I liked my coffee. It was an odd sensation, knowing I was being watched, and I couldn't relax. The gun range was calling me, and I was in desperate need of stress relief. I couldn't wait to knock off and fire off some rounds. I had two guns of my own. I had saved what ever spare cash I could, usually what ever I had left over from my food allowance, and bought myself both of them. They were simple, no frill handguns. Good quality, and reliable. Living alone was dangerous, and I had to protect myself from any dangers.

I pulled up to my apartment after dark and parked my car. Inside, I sat at my tiny desk and rested my head against the surface. I had relaxed a little at the gun range, but the stress of the day wasn't completely gone. I didn't even know how long I had been sitting at that desk, trying not to think. Something felt off, and I suddenly had this strange sensation that I wasn't alone. I could feel eyes boring holes into my back, and I stiffened. I sat up and pulled the desk drawer open. Inside sat one of my guns, and I pulled it out. I turned slowly, training my gun onto the figure leaning nonchalantly against the far wall. "Who are you?" I asked, aiming the gun at his chest.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The figure pushed himself away from the wall, and I could see his face more clearly in the dim light from my desk lamp. "Is this really the way to treat you guest, Teresa?"

"Patrick Jane," I said, lowering my gun. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

He glanced around, apparently amused at my description of the tiny apartment. "Well," he said. "I wouldn't exactly call it a house. An apartment, maybe, or even a shoebox. But not a house…"

I raised my gun again, cutting off his words. "Either you tell me why you're here, or get the hell out before I pull the trigger."

He raised his hands. "I just wanted to check if you were okay. You seemed upset this morning. You're usually much happier this late in the week."

A thought occurred to me – one that probably should have occurred earlier – and I dropped the gun back into the drawer, shutting it slowly. "How do you know my name? Or where I live? Or how I felt this morning? Or how I feel on any morning?"

He grinned blindingly, dropping his hands to his sides. "Magic."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the way my heart reacted to his smile. "Answer the questions, or I'm taking the gun out again."

Patrick raised his hands in what seemed like mock surrender. "I might tell you that I'm stalking you. I could tell you that I've been following you home for about three weeks, and that I've been watching your every move, but I get the feeling that you would probably pull that gun out again, and possibly use it. Judging by your mood, you're just as likely to club me to death with it as pull the trigger."

I was stunned, and taken aback. Why the hell was this good looking blonde standing in my apartment in the first place? "You're part of the popular crowd," I blurted out. "Why me?"

It was his turn to be surprised, and he blinked rapidly, as though my question was unexpected. "You're different from the rest."

I stood up, thoroughly irritated with his vague answers. "This is wasting my time," I muttered, walking to the door. I flung it open. "Get the hell out of my apartment or I'm calling the cops."

Patrick sighed and walked to the door. "You would think that holding down two jobs while still attending school would be beneficial, but it's really quite stressful on the system. Try to relax more, maybe spend a weekend away…"

My mouth hung open in shock. I was speechless. He turned at the door and chuckled at my expression. I scowled at him as he pulled the door closed, and I heard a faint, "good night, Teresa," through the wooden door.

I sank down onto my bed. The school's most adored boy had been standing in my apartment, 'checking if I was okay'. I felt my head spin. I had only told Grace about the extra work I was doing, and I knew she hadn't told anyone else. How did Patrick know I had two jobs? Was he serious when he said he had followed me home? My head swam with unanswered questions as I attempted to drop off to sleep. My exhaustion made that surprisingly easy, and soon I was oblivious to the world.

A/N2: Please review and tell me what you think of their first meeting. I would really appreciate your feedback. Also, please tell me how I'm doing in keeping them in character. Thanks.