Dangerous

An idea just came to me and I need to write it down somewhere, so I'm choosing my page for this inspiration. 9/28/11 Chapter I I sat huddled in the middle of your room. Sobbing into one of your button down shirts while wearing one of your favorite sweat shirts. I didn't have much time because I knew I'd get caught soon. I don't know what happened, but it came faster than lightning striking the ground. Your essence was still present in the room, but I knew it would begin to fade soon. After I calmed myself down to silent tears, I began to recall what happened...

I called you and you picked up on the first ring. "Hey honey, what's up?" I fiddled with my hair. "Nothing. I just wanted to know when you were coming. I'm too excited to wait." "Well I just got out of my front door, so in about 5-10 minutes I'll pick you up." "Okay. Don't text or talk on the phone while driving. It's against the law and it's reckless." "I won't." "So I'll just hang up now so you can come sooner, but don't bypass the speed limit." "Calm down." He paused for a moment. "You're just overexcited aren't you?" "No," I said sardonically. "I just have to go to the bathroom." "Okay. So while you tend to your... bladder problems, I'll be driving mile after mile closer to you." Then he hung up. I paced around the soft, green grass. I was excited for him to get here. I constantly checked my watch. Minutes elapsed before I tried calling, but it immediately went to voicemail. I grew nervous after I called for the third time. I attempted his house phone, but no one was there. Anxiety came over me like a wave crashing. Longer were the minutes that I stood at the park. Longer were the minutes that transformed to hours. I decided to end in a last result. I called up his brother, Trevor. He answered on the first ring. "Look, Kira, this isn't a good time to call me. Tristan got in an accident and we're at the hospital right now." "He's //**what**//?" "Oops. Gotta go now. Bye." I closed my phone slowly. I tried to process what I just heard. I didn't want to believe what Trevor just told me. It didn't seem possible. I ran, no sprinted, out of the park and to the hospital. I knew my car was getting repaired so I prayed that my legs would carry me the twelve miles I needed to cover. I gasped for breath as I rounded the corner to the hospital. I rushed through the sliding doors and skidded to a halt. I scanned the room for the familiar face of Trevor. When I spotted him, I closed the gap between us and in intervals of breath I asked, "What... happened?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but I will since you're his girlfriend." He inched closer and whispered, "Tristan got in a car crash when he was driving to you. The police say he was on the phone while driving, but I don't believe it. Some of the other cops have analyzed his car intently and discovered his brakes didn't work. The doctor claims that Tristan is in critical condition and that he may be in a coma. The only thing we can do is hope." I covered my mouth in disbelief. I tried to stop from trembling, but I couldn't help myself from crying. The tears just spurted out of my eyes and ran down like waterfalls. My crying wouldn't cease, but Trevor attempted to comfort me. When he gave up, he just told me to go home. I refused to leave Tristan's side, but I was escorted out the doors by Trevor. I slowly sulked home as the autumn breeze chilled my bare arms to the bone. This can't be happening today, could it? Out of three hundred and sixty-five days, Fate chose this day for Tristan to be in a fatal car crash. Why today? Why?

10-2-11 Chapter II I huddled against the footboard as the memory of what happened next came to mind. I shuddered at thought. It didn't seem right for you leave. It didn't seem right for you to leave me.

I lay engulfed in my duvet when my phone rang. It was Trevor. The urgency in his voice somehow got me out of bed and to the front steps of the hospital. I dragged my feet through the doors and down the lit corridors. Tears began to streak down my face as I passed by nurses and doctors rushing into Tristan's room. I didn't want to believe it, but there it was right in front of me. The nurses crowded around as the doctor tried to jump-start Tristan's heart. Trevor stood back while Mrs. Polalski was //being// held back. Mr. Polalski just stood there mortified at the thought of his son dead. I fell to my knees and began to scream. One of the nurses came to my side and pulled me up. She attempted to hush me and comfort me, assuming I was his sister. I shrugged her off and slammed the door behind me. I didn't want to believe that he was dead because he wasn't. He couldn't. He **has** to be alive. I slumped to the ground and buried my head in my hands. I sat there in a daze. I overheard the conversation between the Polalskis and the doctor. By the shrieks of Mrs. Polalski, I knew that was the confirmation of Tristan's death. I marched right back in and screamed at the doctor, "IT'S NOT TRUE! HE'S NOT DEAD! TRISTAN IS NOT DEAD! HE CAN'T BE! HE SHOULDN'T BE!" I fell to my knees, next to his cot. "Come on Tristan, wake up. Wake up Tristan. You're just joking right? Pulling a prank on your family and I. You said we'd be together forever, didn't you? Come on Tristan." I shook his arm gently. "Tristan," I whined. "Tristan, come on." I sobbed. "You can't do this to us." Mrs. Polalski whispered softly, but loud enough for me to hear, "She's gone delusional." "No I'm not," I snapped. "You have no right to speak to me in that tone." I pouted sincerely and averted her gaze. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know what came over me. That was juvenile of me." I looked at Mrs. Polalski dead in the eyes. "I just can't process all of this." Mrs. Polalski softened. "Come here." She signaled for me to stand by her. "I know it's tough to accept this, I'll admit it, but you should've seen this coming." Her voice became bitter. "This is your fault Tristan is dead. You're the reason he crashed. You're the reason he was on the phone while driving. You're the person that cost an innocent boy's life. You're the reason why." I gave her a quizzical look. "Don't act surprised. You planned this all along. You knew right from the get-go. I know you did. The police informed us that he was talking on the phone during the crash." Mrs. Polalski began to sound like a child snitching to her mother. "You were the one who was recently talking to him on the phone. It was //you."// She pointed at me accusingly. "You did this." Mr. Polalski pulled her back. She was basically yelling at me at this point. "IT'S YOUR FAULT! IT'S ALL YOU FAULT HE'S DEAD!" Mr. Polalski looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry. She's gone a bit delusional. She has to process this all as much as you. I knew how you felt for him." Trevor took hold of his mom and Mr. Polalski lead me out the door. "I know it's not your fault. It couldn't have been." He craned his neck to make sure they were alone. "When my wife was chastising the police, the chief came up to me and told me that the brakes were tampered with. Someone deliberately tried to kill Tristan. They don't know who yet because they can't track any fingerprints on the brakes or car, other than Tristan's. I have a feeling someone he knew dearly wanted him gone. My word of advice is to keep your eyes and ears open at school. Find out Tristan's friends and enemies. See if any of them had enough hatred inside of them to kill him. I know it's dangerous, but if you don't want any charges pressed against you by my wife, I suggest you discover who would do such a thing to him and your relationship." Mr. Polalski turned on his heel and walked briskly away. As he left, I just stood there dumbfounded. Who would do such a thing to you Tristan? Who would do anything to hurt you? Who?

10-5-11 Chapter III Now I sit here, in this shrine to you. Your bedroom. With the memorabilia of you. The essence of you is engulfing me in memories of you and I. Five months have passed and I still haven't let go. Five months aren't enough to move on from the almost five years we've been together. Five months pales in comparison to five years. I pull myself and grab the blanket I gave you for Christmas four years ago. I sniff the comforting piece of cloth for that bittersweet smell that always seems to stick on everything you touch. I spin around on the balls of my heels and glance at all the pictures of you and I. Tears begin to fill up my eyes and blur my vision. I stop myself and lean my arm against the wall for support. The tears overflow and flood my eyes. //I'm weak,// I think to myself. //Too weak to let go. Too weak to stop myself from crying. But Mrs. Polalski hasn't let go either. Then again, she's the woman who gave birth to him and she's the one who's known him his whole life, and I have only known Tristan for seven years. But I've known him long enough for my seven years to equal eighteen.// A door slams shut and I break from my Tristan trance. I have to get out of here. Going through the door would be a stupid idea, so I frantically scan the room and fix my eyes on the window. I'm glad his bedroom is on the first floor or else my cover would be blown. I turn the latch and slide the window up. Climbing out the window and toward the ground, I barely crouch down before someone opens the door. I hide in the bushes, and pull my hood up, which is miraculously green. "Why'd my brother leave the window open?" I overhear the familiar voice of Trevor. "Probably for one of his late night meets with Kira." I feel my cheeks redden and sense the smirk on Trevor's face, imagining the scene. He closes the window shut and slams the door. I exhale greatly. That was close. I realize that I'm still holding Tristan's blanket. I run home and lock my bedroom door.

I sigh. This can't be the way I'm going to live. Living in the shadows, never seeking happiness again. I love you Tristan. No one else compares to you. No one can be you. Does this mean I'll never be happy again? I've been in a state of depression for the past five months. I've been sobbing over your picture since your mother didn't let me go to your funeral. It was a tragedy for me to be discriminated from my own boyfriend's funeral. It was truly saddening. When you left the earth, I felt weak. I felt like I'll never love again, which I may not. I felt, and still do, that a piece of my heart died with you. That it was crushed when you crashed. I don't know how I'll recover from the damage, but in time, I'll heal. In due time. In due time...

10-7-11 Chapter IV School can never walk any faster. It needs to pick up the pace or I'll die of boredom. It's been one year and people still look at me like a criminal. It's maddening. It breaks my heart. I haven't been talking to anyone. My dad thinks it's just a phase. My mom thinks I'm going through the five stages of grief, but I'll deny that, which ironically is one of the stages. I just don't want to talk to anyone. What's the point of talking to them if they'll just accuse me? I've been keeping an eye out for any suspects, but nobody seems to be out of place. Everybody looks so... normal. It feels weird. It doesn't feel right, but it is what it is. Maybe Mr. Polalski is wrong. Maybe it was just a brake malfunction and nobody //did// sabotage Tristan. Maybe it's time to move on. I stop by my locker. As I open it, a note falls to the ground. I pick it up and turn it over. Right there in bright red marker, someone wrote, "It's all your fault Kira. You killed Tristan, so now YOU'RE NEXT. " I cover my mouth and stare directly ahead with no reference where exactly. //Why would anyone want me dead?// I //didn't kill Tristan; I know I didn't. So why is this note falsely accusing me?// I continue to daze into the nothingness when Trevor came by. "What's wrong Kira?" He locks eyes with mine, but I don't react. He waves his hand in front of my eyes. "Kira? Kira..." I slowly hand him the paper. "Someone wants me dead," I say. "Someone wants to kill me. Someone thinks it's my fault. I didn't do it though. I know I didn't." I slump down to the ground. Trevor kneels down next to me and grips my shoulder. "You shouldn't be worried. People just want to make you cry. This," he began waving the paper, "this piece of junk is just a prank. Someone just wants you paranoid. So take a deep breath and relax. You need to calm down." I wouldn't shake my premonition off that easily. "Are you sure someone just wants to get on my nerves? Are you sure about that? I don't think it's a prank. You don't see me laughing." "You're not the one that's targeted to laugh, it's the person that pulled this cheesy stunt." "That's horrible." "Look, you need to lighten up." I stare at him. "Lighten up? This isn't the first note I've received wishing me dead. This is the fiftieth one I've gotten since school started. They all the same thing. 'Kira I hope you die the same way. Kira, I wish you didn't exist. Kira it's all your fault. Go die,'" I say in a high-pitched voice because I am almost at my breaking point. "Do you think it's a prank now? I hurts knowing my peers want me dead!" I start waving my arms around. "Do you think that's good because I know that it isn't. If I get one more of these messages, I will report this." I storm out, leaving Trevor gaping.

10-10-11 Chapter V As I step foot on my front porch, I realize that yelling at Trevor was not the best thing to do. He's going through as much pain as I am, so I didn't have the right to do that. I turn around to walk to his house when a motorcycle parks on our driveway. I walk towards it cautiously. "Um... hi. Do I know you?" The driver takes his helmet off and shakes his hair. "Well you should. I am your boyfriend's best friend." My brain starts racking to recollect anything about him because I was totally insensitive to even remember his name. "Lucas right?" I ask. "In the flesh and blood. I just wanted to come over and talk to you about something." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I look at him suspiciously. "O-okay. Let me just get the keys and then we'll--" <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">He grabs my arm in a gentle way. "No, it's not gonna be long. Why don't we just sit on the porch?" <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"That works also." I signal to him. "After you." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lucas passes by me and I get a whiff of this scent that's almost bittersweet. I just can't put my tongue on it... Anyway, we sit down on the swing and I actually look at Lucas properly. He's taller than Tristan, that's for sure. Lucas has green eyes, like me, with flecks of gold in them. His hair is golden blonde, just like my dad's hair. When I look at him, he seems like a guy who makes everyone laugh, which he does, and makes himself laugh at the most absurd things. He's well built, but assumes to look lean. Lucas' smile is what threw me off somewhat. His smile is probably his best feature because it's radiant and it's just like... Tristan's. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"So why is it you drop by to my lovely house and request to speak to me?" I tease and stare at him patiently. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"It's about you." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I look at him incredulously. "What about me?" <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">He glances around to check if anyone is within earshot. "Look, don't speak too loud. I think someone is out to get you. The very person that killed Tristan." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"What? Just when I'm almost convinced that all these threat letters are a joke, you come barging in telling me this is real? I don't believe this." I bury my head in my hands. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Well you better believe it. Believe it or you're next. Heed my warning Kira. Watch your back. Act like nothing ever happened. And..." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"And what?" I ask eagerly. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"And don't fall in love again." Lucas leaves.

<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;">10-14-11 <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Chapter VI <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I grab the railing of the porch to stop from my world from spinning. What the heck just happened? This isn't right. I think that I've gone crazy. This is just messed up. When I finally attempt to accept it, the problem resurfaces. It's been a year and I finally learn to accept it. Now, Lucas comes driving in his motorcycle telling me someone is out to get me. Lovely. I'm going to die in a matter of months; maybe in days I'll die. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I shake this thought and walk to the Polalskis' house. I know I have to at least the better person and apologize to Trevor. I make a detour to Shop Rite and buy him flowers. I feel weird doing this because I never gave Tristan flowers and I never intended to give any to guys. I quicken my pace and ring the door bell. Trevor opens the door. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I gently hand him the flowers. "I'm sincerely sorry about yelling at your face like that. I was paranoid, as you obviously witnessed. You're going through more pain than I am and I finally realized that once I got to my porch. I felt horrible about doing that and I got you flowers. I know you're allergic to roses, so I bought any other flower beside roses." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Thanks. You didn't have to do this, you know. I knew you were still mourning over the loss of your boyfriend, and I get it. I was a bit harsh on you, so I take full blame." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I look at him with a face of confusion. "It wasn't even your fault though. I think it was my fault." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"No, it was //my// fault." "I'm pretty sure it was my fault," I counter. "Are we just going to argue over who's fault it was or are we going to go out for dinner?" I open my mouth and then close it. "S-sure. Why not?" He smiles. "Great. I'll pick you up in two hours." Then he closes the door. I stand there, in a daze, for about ten minutes. What just happened? What the //heck// just happened? Am I going out on a date with Trevor? //Trevor?// There's nothing wrong with Trevor, but he's Tristan's brother. I don't know why I said yes, but it can't be undone. I mean I can say no, but that's mean. Plus, I may enjoy this. Some time off my grievances over Tristan. Some time to myself. Some time to move on. Then, Lucas' words drilled into my head "//And don't fall in love again..."// I shook that thought away because it was Lucas for crying out loud. He hasn't been thinking straight since he lost his best friend. I walk down the stairs with almost a giddy gait. I smile at the thought of actually being excited for something. It's been such a long time. I quicken my pace and sprint home. //I'm going on a date,// I think to myself. //I'm seriously going on a date!// I begin to laugh as I run home. I don't know why I'm laughing or why I'm so happy. Maybe because the thought of a date is so absurd, it's laughable. I jump up the stairs and take a shower. I pilfer through all my apparel. I want to look nice, but I don't want to look too eager. I want to look casual, but not like I'm trying to act like one of the guys. I want to wear colors, but not too vibrant. Maybe I'll tone the colors down, but not too sullen. This is hard. I call my mom over. She seems pleased that I'm going to do something fun because I haven't in a long time. We have a "friendly" debate on what I should wear. We finally agree on a v-neck, white dress with a big, black belt that falls on my sides and black heels. I do a model turn. "How do I look?" "Well..." my mom starts. "Well what?" I begin to feel self-conscious about what I'm wearing. "It doesn't look right." "I thought we agreed on this outfit!" "I know we did, but your hair shouldn't be down." She notioned to me. "Come here. Come sit on this chair while your mom relives your and my younger days." I walk over and sit down in the chair in front of my vanity. I let my mom brush and tend to my hair. She begins to stroke it gently. "Your hair got softer didn't it?" She pulls my hair back and places her hands on her lap. "There. Much better." I actually agree with her this time. It //does// look better. "Wait a minute." "Now what?" "Here. Add this." She hands me my black headband that she gave me when I was five. It still fit soundly. "Now you're done." She cranes her neck and hears the doorbell ring. "And ready for your date." I run down the stairs, yes in heels, and answer the door. "Hi." Trevor's eyes begin to grow wide. "Wow. We're matching coincidentally." It's true. Trevor was opposite of me. He wore a black button down shirt with white skinny jeans and black shoes; I think they're Converse, but I'm not sure. He looks nice. //Real// nice. "Yeah, but you look great." "You too," he says. He scratches his head awkwardly. "Do you wanna go now or should I wait awhile?" "No," I blurt. I clear my throat. "I mean, we should go now." "Cool. Bye Mrs. Sanders." He waves to my mom who is standing behind me secretly. "Bye. Take care of her." "I wouldn't do anything else."

<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;">10-21-11 <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Chapter VII <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On the way to wherever, I keep stealing glances at Trevor. Sometimes, I'd catch him looking at me too, but then he'd go straight back to looking at the road. Sometimes I feel relief that he averts his gaze, but mostly disappointed because his eyes are what make him different from Tristan. Tristan has--correction, //had//-- brown eyes, but Trevor has deep blue eyes. They're not sky blue, yet they're not midnight blue; they're more like ocean blue without the green. Anyways, everything else about Trevor is identical to Tristan. He is the same height, has the same disheveled brown hair, the same build, and the same smile. I could even go on a limb here and say that they dress identical too. It's bizarre saying that because I distinctly remember Tristan telling me that their choice in apparel were different. Maybe not //too// different though. Trevor turns the radio on. I realize that it's not the same genre that Tristan used to listen to. I also realize that I should stop comparing Trevor to Tristan because I don't want to be one of those people that say "You're nothing like your brother" or "You're just like your brother". Tristan was into 80s rock and all that stuff, but Trevor listens to hip hop and R&B. "I never knew you listened to this kind of stuff," I tell him. "Well yeah. I'm hooked onto any kind of music with a great beat. I like to listen to both old and new, so I don't feel like such an outcast." "I know how you feel. This kind of music is my favorite, but I keep my horizons broad. I'm not much of a critic." "I know you're not." Probably by the look on my face, he quickly adds, "I mean, I know you're not judgmental. After all, you're hanging out with the school's most depressing kid. Or so I've heard behind my back." He glances at me knowingly. "I probably wouldn't be here driving around in circles talking to you." "Wait. We're driving in circles?" He smiles and continues driving, leaving only the music to fill the silence. After awhile, I just couldn't take it anymore. "Could you please tell me where we're going?" "Well if you looked out the window, maybe that'll help." "All I see are trees." "Exactly." "Are we in the woods?" I ask frantically. "Heck no. This is just a back road. Calm down." I relax a little. I hear the song "Without You" by David Guetta come on and I turn the volume up higher. I begin to sing along. "//I can't win, I can't reign.// //I will never win this game.// //Without you, without you.// //I am lost, I am vain.// //I will never be the same.// //Without you, without you.// Come on I know you know this song Trevor." He joins in. This is the very first time that I ever saw him this happy. It made me happy. We continue to sing. For some odd reason, I didn't care where we are going; as long as I'm not without him.

<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;">10-31-11 <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Chapter VIII <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I stand under the light on my porch. "I never imagined my first date with you just driving around in circles, singing along to our favorite songs. It was really fun and funny." <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Trevor scratches his head. "Yeah. I was planning on taking you somewhere, but I just couldn't afford it." I smile. "Well at least we did something. I never knew you could sing." "Neither did I. About you and myself." I raise an eyebrow. "Really? It sounds like you've had a lot of practice." "Yeah. In the shower." He gestures to the swing. We both sit down. "I learned a lot of things about you that I haven't known already. You were the only thing Tristan ever talked about. Via him, I learned a lot of basics about you and your personality. Don't think of me as being a stalker or anything like that." "It's okay." I look at Trevor curiously. "Since Tristan,"--it still pains me to say his name--"told you many things about me, tell me about myself that you already knew, prior to today." I fold my hands and place them on my knees, which are crossed. He bites his lip. "Where to begin?" "Start with the basics," I offer. "Well, your name is Kira Stephanie Taylor. You have light brown hair with natural highlights and hazel eyes. You used to have a dog named Sparky. You play the piano, and may I say very well. You have a strong passion for art. You hate roses, but you love magnolias. Your favorite candy is chocolate. You're a straight A student. You're part of the school's chorus, cheerleading squad, performing arts, gymnastics, and volleyball team. Although you have all those extra curriculums, you still find time to do your favorite hobbies. You never wanted a dog because you know it'll just be heartache. If you ever got married, or had a child, you'd never want them to start with the same initial as you. You don't like getting lost. Your favorite color is green. You don't like Halloween, yet you'll give candy out. I don't know if this is true, but you sprained your ankle by tripping on air." He glances at me for approval. I smile sheepishly. "Okay. Moving on. You're favorite time of day is night because you like to gaze at the sky in the park. You frown upon pollution, yet you're not a freaky conservationist. Forgiveness and niceness are your policies, but sometimes you don't follow your own guidelines. English is your strong point, but you despise writing. You absolutely love calculus. You didn't learn how to ride a bike until you were ten. Um... you hate people wearing bright pink because it hurts your eyes. Being alone at home, to you, is like driving five hundred miles and dropping you off on the side of the road. You like seafood, but don't like sushi. Summer is your least favorite season, yet you're born in that season. You have a stuffed purple elephant named Ellie. When you get compliments, you blush. Like if I told you that the porch light brings out the green hue in your eyes." He smiles. I'm probably blushing right now. "You're always happy. There's never a day where I don't see you smiling. I can go on for about another hour or so, but I think your mom would like you in the house now." I shake my head. "Why would you say that?" "Turn your head forty-five degrees to the left." I turn my head to notice the curtains moving. Yep. My mom was watching us. "Really? She doesn't trust you or me? Or does she just want to know what was going on?" "I don't know. Come away from the window and stand in front of the door, so I can tell you something." "What is it?" "I had the best night with you." He leans in and hesitantly kisses my cheek. He turns on his heels and walks to his car. Trevor waves and drives off. My mom abruptly opens the door. "What a nice young man!" "Mom! Seriously?" She gestures me in. "Come on. I want all the details. Spill it to me." I sigh and smile. "Oh alright. Just don't tell Samantha. She likes to know first, but I'll make an exception because I //need// to tell this to someone." "Yes!" she squeals excitedly. "Start from the beginning."

<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;">11-6-11 <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Chapter IX For once, I go to my locker without any glares. More like looks of confusion. When I close my locker, Lucas is standing right there. "Were you there for awhile?" "No. Just got here. Look. I have to talk to you." "Okay. So why are you whispering?" "Because this is about the death threats." "Those? I haven't been getting them lately." "Well that's great, but I've been hearing things about people hating you guts." "Gee, that's just splendid," I say sarcastically. "Don't people just keep spreading the love? They not only blame me, but they hate me to the deepest center of my body. Their looks of disgust and sneers of insincere are just lovely. I hope I can just live a life normal for once!" "Okay..." Lucas gives me a look of confusion. "Anyways, this is serious." "And people hating my guts isn't?" I look at him mockingly sassy. He attempted to conceal a smile. "It's getting worse Kira. Not only do they blame you, but they're actually plotting to kill you. I'm not sure if this is a joke or not though. Please be careful whenever you talk to a person or whoever you talk to. I don't want anything to happen to you." "Thanks for the info. I'd like to know who 'they' are though. Please shed some light on //that// situation." I cross my arms over my chest. "Err... how about everyone in this school except for me, Trevor, and Samantha?" He smiled apologetically as if it was consolation for the statement he just said. I place my back against my locker. "Wow. Is that true? Is it because of Tristan or they just hate me?" I look at Tristan with a hurt expression. "Well... majority hate you because of the tragedy. The other portion just hate your guts." I give him an exasperated look and punch him on the shoulder. "Thanks for making my life //so// much better Lucas. I'm glad my boyfriend had a friend like you. I'm glad I even met you!" "What's with the attitude?" "Because they," I create air quotes around 'they', "took it another notch! Not just death threats, but my //actual// death!" “Okay. I know this is pretty hard to take in, but relax. Stay with Samantha, Trevor, and me. You’ll be safe with us. Don’t try to convert people to like you. Even before you were dating Tristan, some people have already hated you.” Lucas covers his mouth. “That came out wrong.” “Yeah it did.” I begin walking down the hallway. “I’m just curious, but how many girlfriends have you had in the past?” Lucas stands there, pondering at the question. “Maybe five or six, give or take.” He looks at me. “What kind of relevancy does this have to the topic?” “Everything Lucas.” I steer him toward the cafeteria. “I’m going to spend my lunch with you to teach you how to talk to a girl //properly.// Frankly, you’re not very good at euphemism. Or keeping things secret. No wonder your past relationships have plummeted.” The last comment is more to myself, but he heard it anyways. “That’s mean, but I’ll take that offer.” Lucas turns around to face me, but still walks. “Can you answer one question for me?” He pauses for my response, which is a curt nod. “What’s euphemism?”

I walk down the hallway, nonchalantly, with my head held high, for once. For once, I’m not shy. I drop my books off in my locker and head towards the gym for P.E. I walk briskly down the hallway, but I bump into Trevor. “Whoa. What’s with the rush?” “P.E. If I don’t get there early enough, I’ll have to run laps.” “Well you’re pretty fast.” I snort. “Not as fast as Scarlett! She’s an animal out there!” “Well whatever. Catch you after school? It’s nice out today. We can walk home. I took the bus this morning and I don’t want to go back.” I smile. “Sure.” I basically start running down the hall. I yell out, “See ya later!” I run towards the girls’ locker room and change. I burst out of the doors just in time before the whistle blew. I jog toward Samantha, with my ponytail swishing from side to side, and greet her. “Hey. Long time, no see huh?” “You’re telling me.” Samantha looks at me with a concerned look on her face. “How you doing?” I shrug. “Better than ever.” I look forward and realize we’re going to get ourselves into a deadly scrimmage. “Looks like we’re going to be playing a little battle with the guys.” I spot Trevor and Lucas on the other side, next to each other, waving to us with goofy smiles on their faces. “This is going to be fun. With you and me on the same team and them on the other team, this will be sheer joy.” Sammie and I walk to them. “Here’s the deal. If we win, you guys treat us. If you guys win, we’ll compliment you two for the next month.” “What!” Sammie whispers in my ear. “We didn’t agree on the terms!” Trevor stands there, lost in thought. “It seems like you guys are getting more out of this than we are.” “Well you’re guys. All you need is to save your pride and keep it going up than the other way around. Plus, when I said you guys were going to treat us, I meant for ice cream today, since it’s almost winter.” I look at them. Still not agreeing. “What about we make it this: if we win, you guys get to treat us; if you guys win, we’ll compliment both of you //and// carry your books around to your classes for the next month. I mean, we all share the same classes, so this’ll be easier.” Still not caving in. “I’ll throw in a new pair of DC’s for both of you.” Not one glimmer of conversion. Seriously? I sigh. “Okay. We’ll compliment you, carry your books, I’ll buy you a pair of DC’s, //and// a new skateboard for each of you.” I see a budge, but still not feeling it. “//And...// wait for it... I’ll even wear a t-shirt that says ‘You’re better than me, and I know you are.’” Lucas laughs. “As tempting as that sounds, can we stop the offer at the new pair of DC’s. I would’ve caved in already, but Trevor over here,” he glares at him jokingly, “looked like he was waiting for more.” “I was waiting for you to admit that I was right and you were wrong.” I give him my death stare and slowly walk backwards. “He’s //so// going to pay,” I mutter to myself. I turn my head to Sammie. “You know your forte, so get to it.” I watch Sammie place herself at the goal. I didn’t notice the whistle blowing, so I didn’t get enough time to prepare myself from the harsh blow the ball gave me in the gut. I clutch my stomach, but I regain my composure quickly and kick the ball as hard as I could. My team has its ups and downs, but we manage to tie the game: 3-3. I didn’t think I’d lose much from this bet, so I pass the ball to Rachel. Not the best chance of winning, she knew that as well, so Rachel passes to Raina. Raina //used// to play soccer, but she didn’t want to cause the loss, so Raina passes to Juliet. Yes! But Juliet decides to pass it back to me, but I fumble and pass it to Kiki. Kiki becomes frantic and gives the ball back to me. I get angry, so I just kick the ball as hard as I can and just hope for the best. Actually, the ball shoots through with ease. I guess Lucas isn’t paying that much attention. I smile. All the other girls cheer while the guys yell at Lucas. I go over there to save his pride. I lace my arm through his. “Aww... cut the guy some slack. He was too mesmerized by my pretty hair and brown eyes to notice the ball go whizzing past his head.” Lucas looks nervously at the guys. “Not necessarily...” He trails off. “Come on,” I nudge him on the shoulder, “I know you like me.” I discreetly give him a wink. “It’s okay to admit it to everyone...and me.” Lucas scratches his head. “Well...” All the guys yell out their interest in this topic, even Trevor. I haven’t had this much fun since last year. “What does ‘Well’ mean?” I give him my most innocent look and bat my eyelashes. “Umm...” “‘Umm’? Was my premonition wrong?” “No,” he says quickly. “It’s not that. It’s just...” “Go on,” I say, goading him. “Tell the guys whatever made you lose your focus.” Lucas exhales deeply. “You know what I think? I think all of us were too distracted by the little game of hot potato that the girls were playing to even pay attention to what was really going on, but that’s just my opinion,” Trevor states. All the guys nod in agreement. I wink at Trevor and walk to the locker room.