101 review people! ONE HUNDRED AND ONE! WHOOOOOOOOH! I am so insanely happy! And tired! So tired…

I recently discovered the world of the new Doctor Who on Netflix… And I may be watching the episodes just a tad too fast and a tad too late at night. Which explains why I should get to bed early tonight.

Who else like Doctor Who?

Thank you for the reviews! I never really understood this before I started actually writing myself but reviews are what keep this story going. Otherwise I would have totally fallen flat on willpower to actually write all these chapters. Reviews are what tell me that you really love this story, so the fact that we are now over one hundred is amazing, and it makes me feel so happy!

Oh, and thank you to the people who send me PMs telling me to actually write. Because otherwise this would have taken like two more weeks to get there. That also goes for other people, if I'm taking too long, yell at me. Cause it usually actually reminds me that I have a story that is almost done and I should just finish it.

*IMPORTANT* Just to clear some things up, the last two chapters before this were in August right before eleventh grade. Now she is in the end of twelfth grade.

Sorry for this long Author's Note. READ ON!

~May, Twelfth Grade~

I knocked on a dark wooden door and breathed in the crisp morning air that was always present in May. Rocking on my heels I let my gaze wander around the yard up to the old tree house my friends and I used to play in sitting in the old maple. My lips twitched as I saw a wisp of dark hair flowing out of the glassless window. Jessica's little sister Casey liked to play in it now.

"Kim!" I looked back at the woman who was holding the heavy door open and grinned. Her green eyes shimmered as she smiled back. "I was hoping that you would be coming over soon! Jessica really could use the help."

"That's what I'm here for." I said as I stepped inside and slipped my shoes off.

"But I do feel bad that we're taking up one of your Saturdays. You only have a few left and house-hunting is right around the corner! You should be packing today!"

"Already done. I have nothing better to do." I replied. She smiled softly at me, a look of motherly-gratitude coming over her face.

"Well, ok then, as long as it isn't a bother. She just finished bringing all of her old boxes down from the attic so she's probably in her room about now."

I turned, my vibrant zebra-printed socks making me slide across the floor and traveled down the beautiful wooden hallway. Sliding to a stop, I softly knocked on the door.

The door swung open and I let out a surprised squeak as two cold hands grabbed my arm. They pulled me into the sunny room. Jessica let go of me and fell onto her cluttered bed with an exhausted sigh.

I carefully moved a few papers and gingerly sat down beside her. "Packing stressing you out?"

She groaned loudly and ran a hand down her face. "Yes. And I'm not even half way through yet! And besides that, I still have to go find a dorm with nice roommates." Pouting at me, she sat up. "Why couldn't you just come to my college?"

Wistfully, I shook my head. "You know how much drawing is important to me. To get into this school is a dream-come-true. Besides," I playfully bumped her shoulder, "you know that I could never be a surgeon. Not like you. Plus, our colleges are only like an hour away from each other."

She smiled a little. "Yeah. But I'll still miss you. Man, I can't believe we're only half a month away from graduating?" Then she sent me a smirk. "And now you're here to help, and I can put you to work."

I sighed as she pulled me up. "Come on!" She said cheerfully, "We can run to the mall right after and grab a fro-yo!"

"Ok. Where are we starting?" Her tan hand gestured over to the row of clear crates filled with papers stacked along her purple wall.

"I have been through all of those and kept what I need, so the rest can just be shredded. The shredder's plugged in right by my bed. If you could do that it would help a ton." I nodded to show my consent. Continuing to talk, she started for the hallway; "I'll be back up in the attic looking through my old clothes if you need me."

Sliding down the wall, I picked up one of the lightest crates and placed it in my lap. I drug the sleek, black shredder over, wincing every time it squeaked against the floorboards. And then I started the tedious job of pushing the papers into the shredder over and over again.

It must have been around ten minutes, and two crates, later when my pinched fingers stopped, only an inch away from the paper slot. My hand shook as I brought it up to my face.

A few dusty notebook pages, stapled together and folded tightly, was stuck firmly between my fingers. 'Kim Crawford' was formally scrawled on the face of it. My hands moved to open it, but I stalled. The whole letter just stank of importance. This feels so… I can't even think of a word. Why would Jessica even have something addressed to me?

I hesitantly opened it.

Kimmy-cat. Hi. Before we get started, understand that I didn't even know you'd be at this party. Though that doesn't change anything. You would've found out that I was singing eventually. So anyway, I had to hurry and scribble this. I hope you can read my handwriting. Wow. I'm rambling. Gosh, usually you do this.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand. I'm probably the last person you want to hear from, and after my stupid stunt of leaving you in the baseball field you probably don't want to talk to me at all. So I thought ahead and wrote this note, hoping I could snag one of your friends before they left and have this delivered to you. It has my explanation…

So here goes nothing.

First of all; don't watch Entertainment Weekly tonight. Just don't. And, if you already saw it and want to murder me with a steak knife, just know that all of it was lies, especially the part about not knowing you. I didn't want to go along with it… but I kinda did. Willingly.

Second of all; Catherine. Catherine and I met, well, obviously on the set of that movie that you saw; Running Out Of Lights. I'm sorry it freaked you out. I didn't know that we'd be doing something quite that… um… I don't know how to put that, so yeah. Anyway, she didn't really like-like me… well she didn't until her publicist recommended that if we went out, it would make a really big splash in the public eye and that we would rise in Hollywood. Then she was all over me.

But I don't like her, and that's the key factor here. When that reporter (yes, I finally saw that report that aired after our date. The full one, actually) thought that we were dating, our publicists hadn't even come up with that idea yet!

Again, I don't even like her, much less love her! Do you know how annoying this girl is?! But my publicist may have gotten me another movie deal with her, and the only way I could get it is if I was in good terms with the public.

And that meant mending relations with Catherine, and denying, dissing, and all but rejecting you in public.

Number 3; The movie. I'm so sorry about that. I wasn't… thinking? I don't even know why I took you to that. I suppose I was feeling extra cocky right then, and felt the need to impress you… But then I started really thinking about it. Did I really want you to get caught up in the limelight? I mean, Catherine can be a freakin witch if she wants to be, and she can make your life pretty miserable if you would have won something that she didn't have. (For example, me. Yes, I can already see you rolling your eyes.)

And I also knew that I didn't want you to see me in that movie. Not like that. Not in that bed with her. And then, as the scene was approaching, I felt nervous. I thought for sure that you had already known that I was in it, but in the car you hadn't teased me about it. You always tease me about things you think are stupid. EX; my heavy duty hair gel, my cockiness, my 'need for speed', the fact that I always have some new decal on my skateboard, etc.

And then you walked out. I knew that I shouldn't have done that movie. Jessica even told me so! And you know what? Fame actually gets to you. I didn't even have time to email you all summer because of stupid interviews and photo shoots! I was actually kind of hoping that you would come with me to the cabin, because I did have a few down days between the busy schedule my agent set up. We could've hung out.

And I still don't understand how you didn't see any of those interviews or pictures. I mean, you were completely shocked at the theater. Was your TV turned off all summer or something?

Number 4; the house. I know that this doesn't really matter… but Jerry told me that you looked 'scary yo' when he let it slip up that we were neighbors, so I decided to explain. That house isn't technically mine, at least not for a while. I don't even live in it right now. My brother Jacob has moved in for a little while until he can find a good house to buy. And my parents are moving out into a more rural part of Seaford and buying a nice ranch house.

But I did buy it and right now I am living in it. Well, when I get back from LA and the meeting in Idaho with my agent.

Number 5 (man, explaining stuff is hard); the date part of the date. Not the movie part, the date. Or, in other words, the thing you probably didn't want to go on but somehow you got forced into…? I mean, I'm just guessing there. I had been ignoring you all summer after all…

So, I know I've sounded like a nerd all of this freaking letter, but I'm really going to sound like a nerd now.

I guess, to fully understand the reason behind the date, we have to go back to the beginning.

So, you remember first grade? You were one of my friends. Whenever you were playing with Jessica, I hung out with Ryan and Moses, my two other friends. But sometimes I got you all to myself and we would always play King and Queen. And when you're that little, you don't really have to pick your friends. You get along with most kids.

It wasn't until fourth grade that I really counted you as my best friend. It was right after my grandpa died, actually, when all of my other friends left me alone when I was gone from school for a week. I think it was a little while after I had been absent that the news leaked out that my grandpa had passed away. Then people had come with flowers and the ever famous 'I'm sorry for your loss'. But you, you came even before you knew what was going on. I was gone one day, you emailed me. I responded that I was fine. I was gone two days, you called me, and then came over. My mom told you that I was fine and sent you away. I was gone three days, and I got a threatening email telling me that you were done with my crap and that if I wasn't there the next day, you were breaking into my house.

The next day when I got home from visiting family, there you were, as promised, sitting on my bed.

Now tell me, how does a nine year old break into a house?

I'm not going to go all mushy on you about how I bawled like a baby, and how we sat on my bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling. You were there. But that was the first time that I felt a true fondness for you. And appreciation.

And we all remember what happened when I was ten. How I hurt you. And I am not going to go through that right now. You probably have a guess why I did that anyway. Two words: fighting parents. All you need to know is that when I hurt you, when I saw you cry, I felt like I was suffocating. I couldn't see straight, and my worry almost drowned me. But I didn't realize what it was.

Then when you were going to move. Do you know how much that hurt me?! Do you know how depressed I was for weeks? And that promise, for two whole years it was front and center. But thinking about you made me weak. I was weak, and I didn't like it. I was failing at school, and I could hardly win a karate match against Jerry. And he's Jerry, for crying out loud!

So I pushed you to the back of my mind. We had already started emailing each other less, so I pretended that you didn't exist. That was the first mistake.

Have I ever told you that you keep me grounded? No? Well let me tell you, you are the weight that carries my stupid ideas and cocky, inflated ego back to earth. And now you were gone. It doesn't take a rocket ship scientist (or Milton) to figure out what happened next.

You know… I'm actually glad that you were gone for ninth grade. It wasn't pretty, and my parents almost sent me to a legitimate military camp. I was rude, I was snobby, I was, dare I say, perverted. I became what normal schools call 'bad boys' (cheesy, I know). And I liked it. Living dangerous was my new nature, and I could have any girl I wanted. I totally ignored most of my friends from my childhood and focused on what Ryan, resident bad boy and my old friend, said was important.

Now, was I delusional or what?

But that's beside the point. In tenth grade I didn't recognize you. And that's inexcusable. But I try my best not to relive those times. The only highlight of that year is when I got to skip most of the first semester because I was filming.

Filming is my true passion Kim. And getting out of school to do it doesn't sound that bad either. ;)

Then, that whole summer after our little 'accident' I was contemplating in my head; why did I kiss you? I mean, yeah, you're beautiful. I'll admit it. (; But I didn't know who you were. And I'll also admit that I had a little crush on you in sixth grade.

This isn't coming out right.

You need to find me Kim. I'm probably already gone, but you need to find me. Preferably soon. I don't want anything else to happen that will drive you further away from me.

And when you find me, maybe I can confess how much I really love you.

~ Jackson Richard Brewer

7/22/11

My heart stuttered.

Jack... Jack... He... What?! My hand clutched the letter tight as I reread it over and over. Each time ended with 7/22/11, which made the lines in my forehead deepen. He had written this about two years ago. Two! He wrote this in August 11', and now, May of 13', I'm finally getting it?

I quickly crumpled up the note and shoved it in my pocket, turning to race out of Jessica's house. I leaped over crates and suitcases, grabbed my shoes, and ran out to my car, soaking my tennis shoes in the wet grass.

Gotta get to Jack, gotta get to Jack... I rammed the key into the ignition and took off like a bullet across the asphalt. I was at least a ten minute drive away from my house, and consequently, Jack's house.

The whole car ride I kept biting my lip and checking the mirrors for a police officer. My hazel eyes kept getting wider as I shot down the road. Memories that I had promised myself would never resurface were now returning to hit me in the face.

After an excruciatingly long car ride I parked and jumped out, sprinting to the big, old-style plantation house.

I leaped up the steps two at a time and immediately rapped on the fancy glass door. My teeth wouldn't stop worrying my lip and my fist was soon numb from pounding. I'm a nervous wreck, I thought, a sob rising in my chest. My shaking hands grasped at the door handle as I slowly slid down it, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. The sob finally ripped itself from my chest.

Finally my hands unclenched and I dropped down onto the rose-colored wood. I brought my knees up to my chest and wound my arms around myself, my whole form shuddering.

He probably hates me. Two whole years. Two whole years of ignoring him, thinking that I had a perfect reason too, only to find out that my reasoning was the exact opposite of what was really going on. He loved me. Another sob hit. Probably as much as I loved him.

"Excuse me, miss?"

My eyes flashed up as I angrily wiped away my tears. A lady, maybe in her early twenties, was standing in front of me in some kind of uniform. It consisted of khaki pants and a light sky-blue T-shirt. Her curly brown hair swung as she kneeled down to look closer at me. She looked a little confused, as if she didn't know what to do with a sobbing eighteen-year-old.

"Yes?" I croaked.

She studied me a minute longer before opening her mouth, "Are you aware that you are sobbing on Mister Jackson Brewer's front porch?"

I flinched away from her cold tone. "Uh... yes." My fingers twisted my green cardigan between my hands.

"Then you're also aware that you are not allowed to be here. Especially since Mister Brewer is not home. He does not give autographs unless he is at a concert or other event, and especially at his house."

Again, I flinched, slightly annoyed. "I don't want his autographs. I don't need his autographs."

"He doesn't tolerate stalkers either."

My head whipped up to glare at her. I slowly unbent my legs and dragged my aching body up, smirking a little as I towered over her with a good five inches, something that rarely happened since I was small for my age.

"I'm not a stalker either, but I'm sure you are."

Her eyes narrowed. "He hired me to clean his house, not to steal his things."

"Oh darling, I never accused you of stealing his things."

Her cheeks burned scarlet and she looked positively livid. I laughed a little.

"It was implied!" She yelled.

My eyebrow rose. "Sure it was." I watched her face get even redder.

Her brown eyes narrowed. "What do you even want? I said it before and I'll say it before; you aren't allowed here. And if you think that some sobbing story is going to get you a job here, you're sadly mistaken. It took me a year to get here, and that was through Jackson's brother. I'm not giving it up."

"I don't need your job, thanks. I need to know where your boss Jack is."

For a minute, she stared at me in disbelief. She shook her hair out of her face and continued to stare at me, her emotions morphing on her face too quickly for me to count. Finally she settled on amused and openly guffawed.

A few moments later it stopped as if someone had just put a plug in it. Wow. Bipolar much?

"You really think that Jackson would want to see you? You'd have a better chance at talking to his brother Jacob about a pool cleaning job." The disbelief was evident in her voice.

I shrugged. "Maybe I will go talk to Jacob." I turned around and started bouncing lightly down the steps.

"You think you can actually contact someone as high profile as him? He has been riding on his brother's success the last year and a half, landing multiple movie deals!" I could distinctly tell that she was trying not to start laughing out loud. Then her voice turned dreamy; "Of course, the manipulating runs in the family. And of course, so do the looks."

She's as bad as Celeste, and that's saying something. I sighed and turned around, a small, sarcastic smile playing on my lips.

"See, that's where you're wrong. Jacob isn't 'riding off' of Jack's success. He simply needed adequate income and off of pure talent and a few minor TV roles, he managed to land a major movie. None of the Brewer boys use 'manipulating' as a way to get to the top. They're not that shallow."

"But isn't his family-"

"Yes, his family is rich. Outrageously rich. But they cut each of their sons off after they turn nineteen. It's kind of a family ritual of sorts. They want them to be able to work for what they get."

Her brown eyes stared at me, dumbfounded. "There is no way you could know that. I've looked both of them up countless times on the internet and they've both always stated that they won't talk about most of their personal life. There is no way that you're right." She looked around, frightened. "This is probably some scam to get me fired! I bet someone is videotaping this! You're going to mail it to Jacob, aren't you! So that you, you... you freak, can take my job! Well it won't work!" Her voice ended off in a sharp shriek.

This girl is crazier than I thought.

"What's your name?" I asked evenly.

Still looking around suspiciously, she said, "Dorothy."

"Well Dorothy," I turned around again and started down the sidewalk. "As soon as I get to Jacob's," pausing, I opened my car door and sat down, "you, my crazy friend, are fired."

With that I slammed the door and drove away.

I pulled up to the gate separating the highway from Jacob's enormous house that he had bought from his parents. I pushed the little button and a dry, nasally voice came out of it.

"Your name?" It asked.

"Kim Crawford."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh... not really?" My voice ended the statement in a question.

The voice sighed. "Are you with a news crew?"

"No..." I answered slowly.

"Do you work for a magazine or blog?"

"Nope."

"Are you with Entertainment Weekly and/or another show in its category?"

"No."

"Are you trying to secure an interview with Mr. Brewer? Because I can assure you that he is not in right now."

"No. Why would I need an interview?"

"Are you a crazed, teenage fan?" It said, sounding exasperated.

"No!" I said loudly, annoyed. "I am not anything in any of those!"

"Then just what are you?" It had the nerve to sound sarcastic.

"I'm just a friend coming over for a visit."

I could tell that she was annoyed by the way she was grumbling. "Ok." She said after a moment. "I don't believe you. Nowhere here is a 'Kip Coffer' mentioned."

"It's Kim Crawford." I corrected, annoyed.

"Whatever. Follow the road and it will loop back to the highway. Have a nice day!"

"No, wait!" I yelled. But it was too late. The rude secretary had already shut off the intercom. I slapped my hand against the cool metal of my car door in frustration. Shifting gears, I whipped the car around and started down the road again.

After a few moments I stopped in front of a cluster of plum trees, making sure that I was invisible to anyone in Jake's house.

I grabbed my phone from where it was sitting on the dashboard and held down the nine for about three seconds. Jacob's laughing face popped up and I put the slightly scratched screen up to my ear. My fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel as I listened to it ring.

"Yello."

"Jacob!" I all but yelled in relief. "Are you home?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I don't have anywhere else to be."

"Your stupid secretary lied to me then." I grumbled.

"Yeah, I taught her to say that to reporters to get them to go away."

"Well I wasn't a reporter and she still wouldn't let me in. Care to explain?"

"I gave her a list with people that were cleared to come in..." His voice was sincerely confused. During any other circumstance I would have laughed.

"Well apparently I 'wasn't mentioned on the list'" I said sourly, mimicking the annoying woman's voice.

He sighed. "Just loop back around and I'll have them open the gate for you." And with that he hung back.

I swung the car around again. Back for round two.

You have suggestions about what should happen next? Tell me! Criticism? BRING IT FORTH! I AM READY! Just review if you have a statement, question, or comment! I love reading them, they make me smile.

By the way, another chapter in Online is on the schedule next.

Thanks for reading!