Love Story

2 Worlds Collide

River View High School
8:00 A.M. (2^nd Period)
The Principal’s Office

       I was sitting in the principal’s office. Me. Ingrid Marie Hollace. I had no idea why; I was just sitting in Mrs. Walsh’s class and the intercom came to life. It crackled at first and then Secretary Olivares said, “Ingrid Hollace to the principal’s office, please.”

        After a bunch of “ooooh’s,” I left. My knees were shaking and soon they buckled. I was walking like a freak. The hottest teacher in the school was exiting his room with a kid. I knew the kid. It was Raymond Placid. The teacher, Mr. Trask, began to talk to him.

        “Raymond, I am sick of your behavior,” Mr. Trask said softly. “I don’t want to yell at you but if you keep interrupting my lesson and throwing eraser shavings at people; I will send you to the principal’s office,” Mr. Trask explained. He sounded sympathetic.

        Something I could never believe would happen happened. I fainted. One, because of being sent to the principal’s office. Two, because of how hot Mr. Trask was. Three, because Raymond pulled a wad of paper out of his pocket that was soaking wet, and threw it at Mr. Trask’s face.

        Raymond had said: “You stole my girlfriend! She loves your perfect face so much that she broke up with me!”

        When Mr. Trask heard me fall; he whisked around and gasped. He had grabbed me with his strong arms and rushed me to the nurse. I woke up in his arms as he was running.

        “Mr. Trask!?” I exclaimed.

        “Ingrid! Gosh, sweetheart, are you okay?” Mr. Trask asked with full concern.

He called all of his students (the girls) ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, and ‘darling’ so it wasn’t a big deal. My stomach still got butterflies. Actually, it got the whole insect kingdom.

        “Why were you in the hallway, dear?” Mr. Trask asked.

I observed his features. His hair was light brown and short. He was tall and muscular. His eyes were the color of the Crayola crayon, cerulean. So gorgeous…

        “I—I got called to the principal’s office. I think I’m okay. I have to see her.” I explained.

The intercom buzzed. “Ingrid Hollace to the principal’s office.”

        “See? I have to go.” I said, hopping from his arms.

        “Tell Principal Baum about you fainting,” He ordered.

        “I will.” I lied.

When I arrived at Principal Baum’s office, I shuddered. Her door was scary. It was dark and had a sign where old paint was peeling from it. The sign said: Baum in purple-colored cursive. I open the door and it creaked. It was all one big set-up, though. Principal Baum was so nice.

        There was a boy sitting in one of Principal Baum’s chairs. The other chair was empty. Principal Baum sat behind her desk as usual.

        “Ingrid! Yes!” Principal Baum grinned. She had smile creases…She was always smiling. 

        “Hi,” the boy said nicely.

        “Hello!” I said with enthusiasm.

        “This is our new student, Noah Thomas. I was hoping you’d be his guide?” She paused to make a gesture for me to sit.

Then she offered Noah and I sugar cookies. He took one and I passed.

        “Of course, I’d be delighted to,” I said placing my palm over my heart.

I was always trying to get on people’s good sides. I did a quick outfit check to see if I was Noah-appropriate. Red and white hoodie—a lifeguard jacket I got for volunteering at my neighborhood pool. Dark wash skinny jeans and tan moccasins. I think I was. With my navy-blue eyes and Emma-Watson hair; I’d dazzle Noah.

        My phone beeped. At Pacific View, they made us phones. They looked like iPhones. We could check where our next class was, see our schedule, text friends, and see what lesson was being taught in class…stuff like that. I checked the message.

Thalia: where did u go? L

I typed back quickly.

Ingrid: i am the guide 4 this cute new kid, noah J

Thalia: omg, deets l8r, ok!? :D

Ingrid: ok J

        Thalia was my best friend. Of course she wanted details about Noah later. For now, I had to focus on being his guide.

        “Excellent,” Principal Baum said, clapping her hands. “How about you take a look at his schedule and show him the rooms he has to go to? Since we are innnn,” Principal Baum stretched her neck to look at the time, “2^nd period right now; I would like you to show him his second period last. Alright?” She asked.

        “Okay,” Noah and I said simultaneously.

        “Oh! How could I forget? We’ll give you your Tracker tomorrow…it’s that little phone Ingrid pulled out earlier. ‘Kay?” Principal Baum winked. Noah and I nodded.

We left and I took a look at his schedule. Ours were the same. 

Noah Thomas                       Sex: M                        ID#: 92245

Period 1…Art – Ms. Block (Room 223)

Period 2…Language Arts – Mrs. Walsh (Room 951)

Period 3…Algebra – Mr. Trask (Room 954)

Period 4…Drama – Mr. Ploy (Right Wing of the Trailers; Room 5)

[LUNCH]

Period 5…Photography – Mrs. Shot (Left Wing of the Trailers; Room 2)

Period 6…Study – Miss Townsend (Room 100)

“You’re in all of my classes,” I breathed. “Even photography.” I added.

“I chose my classes. Well, drama and photography. I love taking pictures and I’m not exactly Shakespeare but I do like watching plays.” He admitted shyly, smiling.

“Cool! Well, let’s show you Art.” I said, walking to Ms. Block’s room. She wasn’t far from the office.

Noah had sea foam green eyes and sandy, tan hair that was long enough he could flip it.
Somebody opened the main doors to the school and his hair fluttered. He tossed it and I swear his hair-flip beat Justin Bieber’s.

        He had salmon-colored lips that were coated in chapstick. They were definitely kissable, I noted. We reached the door to Ms. Block’s class and I pressed a purple button on the wall. I said, “Ms. Block, I have a new student I need to introduce to you,”

        I could hear the excitement in her sweet voice.

“Ooh, yay! Come on in, guys!” She exclaimed.

“That’s cool,” Noah commented on the button.

“You get used to it.” I said.

The door unlocked by itself and we walked in. The room was beautiful. It smelled strongly of vanilla (Ms. Block’s favorite scent—she had Glade candles and room sprays and air fresheners all in the scent of vanilla stacked in her closet).

        Ms. Block smiled.

“Hi! Welcome!” Ms. Block practically ran to Noah and gave him a huge embrace. That was Ms. Block for ya.

“Hey,” Noah mumbled. He was so cute.

“Well, this is Art! Your first period; bright and early with me!” Ms. Block pointed to herself giddily.

The walls were purple (could you tell Principal Baum loved purple?) yet splattered with different colors of paint. Kids’ signatures were scrawled all over the wall and drawings were scribbled on it, too.

Ms. Block loved her walls. Principal Baum offered for painters to cover the graffiti (as Vice Principal Nixon called it) but Ms. Block practically screamed no. The students loved the walls, too. It was a piece of them.

“Well thanks!” I said, eager to go see Mr. Trask next.

“Yep! See you later, Ms. Block. And you look really nice.” Noah smiled.

Kiss-up, much? It didn’t matter, it was polite and cute. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from Noah. As we strided to Mr. Trask’s room; Noah stopped me.

        “Why’d you stop?” I asked him, impatiently.

        “Well, um, never mind.”

        “Okay,” I said sternly; mad that he wasted my time.

I pressed a purple button with stickers all over it (students decorated it) and Mr. Trask’s lovely face welcomed us with warmth.

        “Ingrid! Always a pleasure to see you,” Mr. Trask said, smiling. Then he saw Noah. “Well, who do we have here?”

        “Noah Thomas. He’s new at Riverview and I’m his guide. I figured I would show him one or two problems and the methods you use; explore the room for a little bit, and go onto the next class.” I grinned.

        “Excellent, excellent! So smart.” Mr. Trask complimented.

I blushed really hard. I probably looked like a tomato.

        “Cool.” Noah muttered.

His enthusiasm from Ms. Block’s visit had faded.

I showed him two algebra problems. I grabbed a blank sheet of notebook paper and made up two questions.

       

1. if a=30 and c=2.5 what is a-c?

and

2. f x 7 – 10 (if f is 5…hint: use order of operations)

Noah knew his stuff. He did the problems; but wrote me a note at the bottom.

1. 27.5
2. 25

What I was going to ask u if u had a bf…but how u look at mr. trask makes me not want 2 interfere

Did Noah think I was going out with Mr. Trask!? I quickly wrote back; trying to make sure Noah’s brain didn’t fill up with nonsense.

NO! ur not interfering…I mean ur not interfering with anything! at all! if u thought I was dating mr. trask then ur wrong! n I am totally 100% single, noah J

He looked at me and I smiled at him. He did not return it.

prove it.

I didn’t know how to prove it. At all. I guess I could show him Thalia and make him ask her…nah. Or I could totally go bitch on Mr. Trask. That’s good. But not good enough. Then it came to me.

I will prove it 2 u in the hallway.

He nodded “okay” so I showed him around the room. He was so easy to lead. He would cooperate with everything you threw at him.

As we exited, I said a firm “goodbye” to Mr. Trask and then as I closed the door; I got on my tippy-toes and kissed Noah on the cheek. I really didn’t know him at all but I didn’t want him thinking I had something more than what was happening with Mr. Trask.

        And it was a start to Noah and I’s relationship. Noah smiled.

“I believe you now,” He grinned.

“Good. I hope you liked that.” I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his (and my) 4^th period class.

“I did,” he grinned again.

        We had to go outside because our 4^th and 5^th periods were in the trailers. I walked to the Right Wing and entered Drama. The trailers had no special buttons (obviously). They were made of wood and were very sophisticated-looking. The wood was a dark maroon and the doors creaked—not in a creepy way, though.

        Inside, the room was dark green and smelled sharply of cinnamon.

 I spotted Mr. Ploy right away. He was an old man with lots of health problems but he loved drama.

        “Two households, both alike in dignity…” Mr. Ploy trailed off. He smiled.

        “Noah Thomas. New student.” I said. I’d probably have to keep repeating that.

        “Wonderful! No, splendid. Just a few rules. 1) Do not say ‘them,’ say ‘thou,” Mr. Ploy instructed. I whispered to Noah that you get the hang of the drama talk.

        “2) You must speak with emotion. Or else I can’t read you,” Mr. Ploy drawled. Noah gave me a funny look. I shot him a serious one.

        “And 3) We call each other by last names here. Alright!? Well, I suppose you must be hurrying along to the next class, eh?” Mr. Ploy said, very Canadian-like.

        “Thou should be going now,” Giselle Turner; a girl I hated said with hatred. But she looked at Noah with loveliness. He was exchanging the look. I was so mad.

        “Yes. Noah and I should be going.” I said, grabbing his hand and bursting out the door.

        “What’s wrong?” Noah asked, with concern.

        “I don’t want you getting in that relationship.”

        “What relationship? You barely know me; why are you looking out for me? I don’t want to be the jerk here but that was just rude, Ingrid.”

        “I—I…”

        “Let’s go to Photography,” Noah sighed, walking to the Left Wing of the trailers. I started to cry. I sat on a bench.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

Noah didn’t move. Classes were going to 3^rd period now.

        “Ingrid…” Noah slapped himself. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—gah, I screwed up.”

        “It’s not about you,” I paused, taking a shaky breath. “It’s about that girl. Giselle. She takes every guy I like. When I was chosen to be your guide; I thought for once Giselle couldn’t steal you because we’d have a connection. I thought we’d be the hottest couple at Riverview and, and, I don’t know; I just imagined us together…” I sobbed.

I didn’t know Noah. At all. But I had this feeling. I don’t believe in love at first sight—it’s dumb. How could you love someone by just looking at them?

Noah and I weren’t like that. It was like an invisible string was pushing us together. That’s exactly how it was like. Then Noah grabbed my hand and electricity pulsed through my body.

        “Ingrid, I looked at the girl; I didn’t propose to her. I was looking around the room and bam: Piselle. I don’t like her. I’d love to get to know you, though. And did you really imagine us together?” Noah smiled.

I playfully punched him and mumbled ‘yes.’ It also made me feel better that he called her Piselle. I wasn’t going to correct him. In fact; if he called her that in person, I would love (I mean, like) him 1,000 times more.

        “So, onto photography?” Noah asked.

        “Yep,” I smiled; wiping my tears. I probably looked the exorcist.

        “Lead the way!” Noah smiled.

I smiled back. I maneuvered through the Left Wing and found the room. I entered and it was a burst of papayas and mangoes.

        Mrs. Shot (the photography teacher, ironic, isn’t it?) could be seen from miles away. She looked like Kate Middleton; except she dressed very hippie-ish and her hair was always in a low ponytail.

        I offered a makeover but she politely declined. Sucks for you, I kept reminding her. Mrs. Shot walked over to Noah and I; her clogs making loud noises.

        “Hello! Is there anything you guys need?”

        “Nope, not much. Just a new student: Noah Thomas,” I gestured towards him.

        “Groovy!” Mrs. Shot smiled; her yellow teeth showing. Those teeth could slow down traffic. Jeez.

        “Well, for now; give him a lil’ lesson: the difference between manual-focus and auto-focus…then show him our mini gallery. Okay? Peace, guys!” Mrs. Shot danced away to her desk which was surrounded by peace signs and colorful circles.

        At the corner of the room was an old sherbet machine from the 1940’s. It wasn’t rusty at all and it had the best sherbet ever.

        “Oh, and kids? Fellas? Feel free to get some sherbet. It never runs out. Ol’ gift from my dad!” Mrs. Shot offered.

Noah practically dashed to the sherbet machine.

I laughed. He got the raspberry-orange-lime mix while I settled for blue raspberry sherbet. We ate while I got one of the school’s many professional cameras and taught Noah. I held the camera and let him peek through the lens.

        “Auto-focus,” I said, bringing up piece of notebook paper with stuff written on it. “Take the picture.” I instructed. The camera had totally focused in on the words.

        “Awesome!” Noah said. “Now you try,” He instructed to me. I got behind the lens and he put his face in front of the camera. I laughed so hard. I set flash on and took the picture. He screamed in agony; the flash hurting his eyes. Yet, he was guffawing along with me.

        Mrs. Shot was so chill. She didn’t even look at us. Then again, she had a set of earphones in her ears; probably blasting some 80’s tune.

        I looked at the picture of Noah and I began to giggle. His face was scrunched up and was leaning back. He looked like a cute, human-pug. Hehe.

        I showed him my pictures and he was fascinated. I took ones in the forest, ones of the sun, and a lot of the sunset. I had gotten one picture of two people (too far away to see) sitting near the sunset. All you could see was their bodies; but they looked black against the scene. I loved the color of the sunset: gold, indigo, orange, purple, blue, hot pink…it was just so beautiful.

        Noah pointed to the people. “Is that you and someone?” I could hear sadness in his voice.

        “No. But I hope it will be someday…” I trailed off. He smiled and we were on our way out. We went back in the building to Study. Study was basically the hour where you were (supposed to) study…but everyone talked. Mrs. Townsend let everybody talk, too. She said if Principal Baum entered; to change the subject to studying and study with a partner.

        We only had Study for one trimester; then we had Biology, and then a music class of our choice: general music, chorus, orchestra, or band.

        “You’re gonna love Mrs. Townsend,” I whispered to Noah.

        “Hope so! Ms. Block was nice, I hated Mr. Trask, Mr. Ploy was just weird, and Mrs. Shot was too hippie…I don’t know what to expect now!” Noah chuckled.

I smiled. He was so darn cute. I rested my hand on Room 100’s handle when Noah pecked me on the lips.

        His lips were so soft.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologized. “I’m not one of those jerks who only knows a girl for one day and starts kissing them—“ He fumbled for something to say. “Ugh, you’re just so…” He couldn’t find words. I knew the feeling.

        I looked into his eyes and kissed him. I held him close; my arms around him and my lips on his. We kissed for 10 seconds when I ran out of breath. I pulled away and smiled.

“Don’t be sorry,” I whispered; trying to sound sexy. Then I opened the door and put on my good-girl face. The class looked at me. Then when Noah came in; it switched from me to him. I heard whispers and a few omigodhe’ssohot’s but that was fine. Cuz he was mine.

        There was nothing to say about Study except that we had it once a year for 9 weeks and that we talked and sometimes (and by that I mean barely) studied.

       

Noah and I were on our way to 3^rd period. Then it happened. Giselle was in the hallway.

        “My, oh, my, is it Ingrid Hollace?”

I seethed.

        “That’s Piselle, right?” Noah asked. I stifled my giggles.

        “Yep.” I already had Giselle withdrawn from Noah. Or did I?

The bell rang again. All three of us ignored it.

        “Piselle? How stupid are you, Ingrid? You’re so desperate for a boyfriend that you make sure in advance that I don’t steal him by changing my name?” It sounded more like a statement than a question. “So dumb,” she scoffed.

        “I made that up.” Noah said defensively.

        “Whatever. Plus, he’s not even cute,” Giselle waved her hand dismissively. “enough.” She added silently. I still heard it, though. She flicked us off and stalked away. Gosh, I hated her. And enough? She so liked him.

        “Thanks for standing up for me,” I said.

        “Don’t mention it.” He said.

“I need to go to my locker to drop off this hoodie; I’m getting hot,” I complained.

“You’ll still be hot even with it off,” Noah grinned.

“True that.” I grinned back.

        We walked to my locker and I opened it. I took off my hoodie and he watched me. My tank top rode up so he saw some of my stomach (which was fine). I smiled at him and he leaned against the locker next to mine and returned the smile.

        I put my hoodie in my locker and we were off to the Right Wing. He opened the door for me and let me go first.

But then I was so mad. It was raining. Wind was whipping everywhere; hitting my skin like ice. My hair was flying ubiquitously and my chapstick was basically peeling off my lips along with my gloss.

        “Don’t worry,” Noah said. He was so blasé. He took off his jacket and handed it to me. I loved when guys did that. My ex, Josh, never gave me his jacket. He was sort of OCD but I thought it was just because he was a) a neat freak, b) weird, or c) a germaphobe.

        It smelled amazing. Like pine and cinnamon gum.

I lifted up the hood and ran with him. But he tugged on my belt loop.

        “I want to kiss you in the rain.” He said.

I’ve always wanted to do that… but then I thought about the water dripping on your lips. It would get in the way. I wasn’t sure. He didn’t give me time to decide because he kissed me. Hard. It was great. My tongue was exploring his mouth and my brain just craved more.

        His love was an explosion in my heart (in a good way). He smiled against my lips. I love how that feels. I kissed him quickly one last time and said: seriously, let’s get going; even though I wanted to stay longer. J

        I went into Mr. Ploy’s room and he was startled to see us.

“Nice to see thou again,” Mr. Ploy smiled.

        He was teaching a class; our class, so I told him why we were there, that we finished, and stuff.

“Great, great,” Mr. Ploy said.

        I was thinking about Noah the whole time. I knew I had had a lot of boyfriends (more than you can count) but I had never kissed one three times when I first met them.

I mean, the first one didn’t count because 1) it was to prove something and 2) it was on the cheek. But the second one; that one was magical. And he leaned! The third was the best, though. Noah was an amazing kisser. Yet, I didn’t know anything about him. We could play Thalia’s and I’s favorite game later.

Noah’s Point of View

2

River View High School
2:00 P.M. (5^th Period)
Hallways

        I was walking down the hallway with my (future) girlfriend, Ingrid. Gosh, she was beautiful. Her waist-length brown locks were wavy; like beachy wavy…almost like when you get out of the ocean after a long swim. Her hair was like that. They were big, spiraled-out waves, too. Onto her eyes. They were the truest dark blue ever. Navy. Not black…you could definitely tell they were blue.

        Navy, actually. And her lips were always brought to one side. A baby-pink smile revealing two sets of beautiful, shining, pearly whites completed her face. Well, no. Her tanned skin was like toasted butterscotch. It wasn’t too dark or anything. And her dirty blonde waves looked amazing against her complexion.

        She had curves. Everywhere. I won’t go into depth about that… And she always smelled like passionfruit. Which I also loved. Our kisses were incredible, too. I had never kissed someone on the first day of meeting them, so I couldn’t compare... but Ingrid was pretty good. J What Ingrid had said; I had felt also. I knew what she was talking about.

        I knew a bunch of guys who if I’d still gone to my old school and still met Ingrid; they’d take her away from me. I didn’t even like Giselle. Hell, I barely knew Ingrid…but I hope I will like her. A lot. Because she seemed so perfectly perfect.

        We arrived at Mrs. Shot’s classroom and we basically went outside to take a few pictures. The rain had calmed down and Ingrid was still wearing my hoodie (J). Mrs. Shot said it was the perfect time for pictures. We put plastic bags around the probably way-too-expensive cameras and grabbed a few tripods. Then, we were out.

        It was drizzling so lightly. Ingrid’s lips were dripping little humid beads of H20. And her lips looked so moist. Snap out of it, brah, I heard a little voice tell me. It sounded like a guy. Who knows? I set up my tripod and found a dark tree with almost-lime green leaves. On the bark was a ladybug; its colors were so defined—the red was so bright and solid while the black was pitch-dark.

I used autofocus and snapped the pic. No flash. It was amazing. Another picture I got was of a monarch butterfly perched on a sycamore tree. Maybe I’d take Ingrid there.

Then I fell. My ankle twisted and I yelped in pain. Who pushed me? I looked behind me and it was a guy. He wore a red jacket. That’s all.

        Ingrid ran to me. She ran like a hot lifeguard in slow-motion. Ha-ha. She came to me and screamed. “What happened!?”

        “Some guy pushed me…he had a red jacket on. I twisted my ankle.” I put pressure on my ankle to help it stop (maybe?) but it failed. A tear fell from my eye. How embarrassing. I had to heal this; quick.

        “Red jacket? Omigod, I know him! At least I think.” Ingrid said.

        “Who is it?” I asked.

        “I’ll go talk to him.” Ingrid said, getting up and leaving me.

Ingrid’s Point of View

I damn sure knew who pushed Noah. It was one of my very jealous ex-boyfriends: Kick. Yeah, I know, Kick? But he was so good at punting footballs (he plays football) that we had to give him a worthy nickname. Punt didn’t sound right at all. So we decided on Kick.

        Kick always wore a red jacket. No matter what. His hair was black and wavy. And his eyes were emerald-green. He was hot. Every girl wanted him. Even Giselle. But Kick was obsessed with me. He hadn’t dated anyone since me. I didn’t know why I was so special. He was a player before I came along.

        I ran and came to an oak tree. It wasn’t any oak tree. It was Kick’s and I’s. He was sitting there and I heard him panting. I peeked at him and he was cutting himself. With a Gillette razor. I clamped my hand over my mouth.

        “Stop!” I shrieked.

I scared Kick…obviously, because he jumped and drew a thin line of blood with the razor. He looked into my eyes.

        “Why? Why should I?” He sobbed. He took shaky breaths and could barely control the tears.

I wasn’t scared of Kick. I walked up to him and took the razor out of his hand.

        “Because you are hurting yourself! I don’t want you to do that!” I screamed.

        “Sure you do. You don’t care.” He spat.

        “I care a ton, Kick.”

        “Not when you were kissing that freak.”

        “You saw that?”

        “It doesn’t matter if I did or not. All I know is you moved on.”

        “That’s what people do, Kick. I hear Giselle really likes you. You should go for it. I don’t want you to mourn…and wait.” I took a seat beside him.

        “I don’t give a fuck about Giselle!” he yelled.

        “Please don’t do this to yourself.” I put my hand on his.

        “This is our tree.” he reluctantly smiled.

I took my hand off of his and turned serious.

“Why did you push him?” I demanded.

“I don’t like him.”

“So?”

“You’re mine.”

“Kick, I’m not yours.”

        He snatched the razor from my hand and cut his neck.

“Then this is what happens.”

        I swallowed hard and bit back tears.

“I loved you! With all of my heart! I decided then, when I was dating you, that I would never go out with anyone again. I swore on the Super Bowl that I would not be a player. That I would stick to you—not because you were hot; because you were unlike any other girlfriend I had. When—when you dumped me…I went crazy, Ingrid. I started cutting, I did drugs, I—I almost killed somebody…”

        I gasped.

“Who did you almost kill!? Please stop doing this, Kick! Stop the drugs! Don’t cut yourself!”

“You were the best thing that happened to me…” he cried.

“Kick…”

“On October 31^st; at midnight. That’s when I’ll kill myself.” he stated, standing up and leaving.

Himself? Oh God. I sat there. Under our tree. Crying.

Noah’s Point of View

Home
3:15 P.M.
AIM Chatting with Ingrid

       

noah: I wanna take u somewhere J

ingrid: where? J

noah: dinner…how does panera sound?

ingrid: expensive!

noah: not a problem J

ingrid: so ur asking me out?

noah: guess so. is it a d8?

ingrid: yep, what time? also, I need 2 talk 2 u about that red jacket guy.

noah: okay & how about 7? I pick u up?

ingrid: sounds awsum. hows your ankle? L

noah: bad. baaad, ing. im gonna have a brace on my ankle @ dinner but hopefully u will still like me J

ingrid: I’ll still like u even if u turned into a frog ♥

noah: J

ingrid: c ya J

Ingrid’s Point of View

3

Noah’s Car
6:59 P.M.
Talking

        “So you knew him?” Noah asked me.

        “Yes. He was my ex-boyfriend,” I swallowed.

        “Wow. Why did he trip me?” He questioned.

        “He’s jealous.”

        “But we’re not dating. Yet.” Noah added ‘yet’ with a wink.

        “I know. See, Kick was obsessed with me. He still is, actually. And—he was cutting himself when I found him,” I cried. “He’s gonna kill himself, too. He was so attached to me. I don’t understand why.” I started bawling; my tears getting Noah’s leather seats wet.

He patted my back. Then he drew circles with his finger.

        “I’m sorry…” he sighed. We arrived at Panera and he offered to take me somewhere less public. I said no, and we went in.

        “I’m sorry. I ruined this night,” I frowned.

Noah pushed a stray strand of hair from my face and said, “You didn’t ruin this night. It’s not your fault.”

I smiled. He was so perfect. I walked up to the cashier and just my luck, it was Kick. Why the hell was Kick working at Panera? He saw me and looked down with his eyes. I took a deep breath and ordered my food:

Ham & cheese sub with pickles, mustard, lettuce, & tomato

Side of broccoli & cheese soup

Kettle chips (original)

I had brought my laptop because Panera offered free Wi-fi so Noah ordered himself some food while I looked for a table. Then someone whirled me around and looked me right in the eye.

        “Ingrid.”

It was Kick. Again.

“Why would you come here? You know I work here! Why would you come here, especially with that!” Kick screeched.

“I have every right to come to a simple restaurant and order some food with my boyfriend,” I said.

“Out of all the restaurants in the state of Bristow, Virginia, you chose Panera? And the one I work at?”

“I forgot you worked here. I’m not supposed to know where you work. Anymore,” I added the last part hastily.

“Kick! You’ve got Table 16!” A pretty blonde waitress called to Kick and I.

“See? She’s pretty! Go for it!” I pointed to the blonde.

“That’s Kacey. My friend. I don’t like her. The only one I like is you.” he said.

“Take a chance with somebody else, Kick. Please don’t linger on me forever.”

“I will love you until you die and float up to the beautiful Heavens above.”

“Kick, stop.”

“Will you go to Homecoming with me?” he pulled out two pink tickets with corsage and rose stickers glued onto them.

Noah approached us. “What’s going on?” he asked, not mad, but curious. I was going to guess he didn’t see the tickets.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I said, leaving Kick, leaving Noah, leaving my laptop, leaving Panera, leaving Bristow. 

I was going to London.

Yeah, I know, London? But my Aunt Lucy lives there and she always knows my next move. She said to visit her whenever I needed to; that there would always be money (in a debit card she gave me) for me if I wanted to take a visit. This was one of those moments. Yes, I’d miss school. Yes, my mom would be wondering where I was.

        But Aunt Lucy would take care of everything.

4

Manassas Regional Airport

October 23^rd, 3:00 P.M.
Finding my Gate

        I was rushing. I needed to find my gate. 3-D. Ha, how cool? Ironic, eh? I was going to have to start perfecting my ‘eh’ if I was going to spend a week in London. Wait, that’s Canada. Oops. Sorry, Canadians.

        So anyways, since I was hurrying, I was running. Fast. And my suitcase dragged behind me. Then I ran into him. At first, I didn’t get a glimpse of him. But then he took me by the shoulders…it seemed like he was calming me…and looked into my eyes. In a beautiful, thick, British accent; he asked me: “Are you alright?”

        Although it sounded like: “Ah yew ahright?” I swallowed loudly and nodded.

        His hair was like Logan Lerman’s and his eyes were hazel and warm. He had a mauve smirk painted onto his face. He was—amazingly hot.

        “Um, what? Oh! Yeah, of course!” I stuttered.

He loosened his grip on me.

        “Okay, love,” he said, letting go of me. “Do you need me to help you to your gate? You look a little frightened.” he sympathized.

A girl with big, brown, Bambi eyes came near us. She had dark curls twisted into a French braid on the side of her head. Her skin was flawless; and super pale…yet pretty. She was smacking on some gum.

        “Mason? What the fuck? Let’s go. Stop talking to peasants.” She said in a very noticeable British accent.

        “She’s not a peasant. She’s very beautiful, in fact.” Mason defended.

Who was this guy?

        “Beautiful?” the girl guffawed. “No where near beautiful, May May. Let’s. Go.” She snapped.

        “Lauren. You know what? You can go. I’m going to help this gal,” he said.

        “I’m your girlfriend!”

        “Hopefully that will change in a few days,” Mason spat.

        “Why don’t you just end it now and have a nice relationship with that ugly, rat-faced bitch!?” Lauren seethed.

I was in so much shock from his touch that I had blacked out.

        “I didn’t do anything to you, Lauren! I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend! I just accidentally ran into—“

        “Accident my ass, American whore.” Lauren said with so much anger that her face went tomato red.

        “How am I a whore?” This was unlike me. Usually I was the popular girl. The one who told off the girls. But I guess London already had their Queen. (Besides Elizabeth.)

And oh snap. It was not Lauren.

        “Let’s see—you waltz into this airport thinking your gonna find love, especially with those horrid booty shorts…and you bump into my boyfriend and yeah,” Lauren said lamely.

        “You don’t know what you’re talking about, bitch! I came in here to go to London to visit my family and this random dude bumps into me—big whoop, get over it! You happen to be his psycho girlfriend who totally goes off on me when your boyfriend touches me! Maybe you should be mad at him!” I screamed. Most of the airport stared at us.

She slapped me and whispered in my ear, “Lay off.”

Lauren’s saliva covered my ear and I was totally disgusted.

        Mason ran up to me and said, “I am so sorry you had to—ugh there’s no explanation.”

I was crying. She had slapped me. Really hard.

I cried for many things:

·       All I wanted to do was see Aunt Lucy

·       Kick was going to commit suicide

·       I loved 2 guys

·       I just got slapped by some British ho

·       Mason…I don’t know why

·       I missed my mom

·       Hadn’t talked to Thalia in forever

I texted Thalia, went to my gate, and left the scene.

Me: thalia♥ just the person I wanted 2 talk 2 J

Thalia: aww! J how r u? where did u go? noah has been looking

Me: I went 2 london 2 visit my aunt lucy

Thalia: holy shiitake mushrooms; LONDON? hot british guys? accents?

Me: I (think I) am dating noah! I will not cheat on him w some foreigner

Thalia: ingrid, u have a reputation 4 cheating on guys

Me: maybe I want 2 change

Thalia: maybe u want 2 be a loser

Me: thalia, u should take a tip from me: b nice and maybe u will get a bf sumday

Thalia: when did u get all nice & innocent?

Me: I have always had it inside of me. when did u get all bitchy?

Thalia: the day I met u

Me: I hate u!!

Thalia: the feeling is mutual

Me: don’t talk 2 me ever again

Thalia: oh hunny I won’t. but I will talk 2 noah(: oh yes I will J

Me: u wuldnt dare. he doesn’t even like u.

Thalia: that’s not wut he said last nite

Me: u r SO GROSS

Thalia: after u dashed away from ur “date”, he was so sad. I happened 2 b at panera & we talked. we have a date 2nite, actually. u were so busy w kick that u didn’t even care about noah. u left him

Me:

Thalia: yeah, blank msg. sooo dumb. c u later, bitch ;]

Me: when I cum back u better be afraid

Thalia: ooh im so scared imma piss my pants. PLEASE

Me: we’ll c. u’ve always had that problem, pee lady J

Pwned! Pwned, pwned, pwned!

It happened in the ninth grade. Thalia was laughing so hard that she pissed her pants. Everybody saw and teased her until now. She got all “tough” and stuff. It was the hot gossip of sophomore year but it cooled down to a boil once Cara McLoyd got pregnant in junior year. 

My phone beeped. One new text from Thalia.

Thalia: fight me, bitch.

I knew exactly what to say and how to say it.

Me: Bring. It. On.

By then, a lady with a raspy voice had said, “Passengers, please come aboard.” I walked to the entrance and handed them my passport and ticket.

“You’re good to go!” A different lady with yellow teeth said as I past by her.

“Thanks,” I muttered, sounding as crappy as I felt.

Then suddenly, like a gust of wind, all the texts hit me.

Noah: r u ok?

Noah: where’d u go?

Noah: I love u

Noah: please answer me back

Noah: I love u and I hope ur ok ♥

Noah: call me

Mom: went to visit aunt lucy?

Mom: thx 4 the note

Mom: I hope the trip 2 london was something u needed & not wanted.. im calling the school & telling them u have swine flu, xo

Mom: be gr8ful

Mom: I love you, ing bear J

Kick: I’m sorry 4 yelling @ u babe

Kick: u know what the worst part is? its that u don’t love me back.

Kick: I love u

Kick: don’t forget about me…even when im dead

Kick: say u love me…please. remember us? we were skipping in the park and the dove pooped on me? J I didn’t care cuz I was with the one I loved.

Kick: i love u. ♥♥♥

Oh, Lord. I found my seat and stayed there. I slept so I wouldn’t see who would be next to me when I woke up. It could be anything from a slimy hobo to a hot, British guy.

I woke up, and re-read my etxts. Then I looked to my left.

“SHIT!” I yelled.

“Excuse me? Can you respect Mormons by not saying that word? Can you respect everybody? Anybody?” a lady snapped at me.

Mason was stifling laughs next to me while I frowned. God, I loved his eyes. Hazel and inviting. As if daring me to stare at them. His mauve lips were almost rose-colored. A light, pale rose. Okay, they were just pink—a mid-tone pink. And they were shiny, soft-looking, and kissable. This moment, me deciding whether to kiss the guy, reminded me of Noah. And I stopped myself.

        “Nice running into you again,” I said bitterly.

        “I am really sorry about that.” Mason said with a beautiful English accent. Reh-leh sah-wy ah-bow-yat thah-t. He stopped laughing at the Mormon lady and gave me a serious look that begged forgiveness.

        “Sure you are. My face still hurts.” I turned my head and lifted my head. He touched my face delicately and caressed my cheek; where Lauren had slapped me.

        “I broke up with her,” he said, kissing my cheek. Yes, he kissed my cheek!

        “Jason! Mason! I don’t even know your name! And you kissed me! KISSED!” I whisper-shouted.

He pulled away and shook his head.

        “That’s how my country works. Haven’t you been to England?” Mason questioned. Then it stung me like a bee.

        “If someone gets hurt,

        don’t let the blood leak,

        the only way to fix it,

        is a kiss on the cheek.” I stated.

        “Yes,” Mason smiled.

        “Sorry. I forgot. My Aunt Lucy used to sing that to me.”

        “It’s okay. Aunt Lucy? I know a Lucy. She makes the best scones. Blueberries implanted.”

        “Really? My Aunt Lucy makes the best blueberry scones!”

        “Everybody knows Lucy. She’s been in the London Times. I write a few articles every now and then…” Mason grinned. “She sells the scones and sometimes has a bake sale for charity. She is such a nice woman. Very friendly,” Mason said.

        “Cool. Maybe it’s the same Lucy.” I smiled. Maybe we could be friends. Not every guy had to be a boyfriend, did they?

        “Maybe. And maybe I can get some free scones,” Mason teased.

I didn’t know which scones he meant. Yeah, I know, gross, but I’ve been to London and British guys aren’t exactly anti-perverted.

        “Maybe you can,” I whispered. I tried to sound sexy and attractive. Which reminded me of Noah and I outside of Study. I ached inside. I picked up my phone.

Mason kissed my cheek again.

        “It was throbbing,” he said.

I lifted up one eyebrow. I didn’t believe him but I didn’t say anything because I liked it.

        “Feel free. I mean, cuz it’s the only way to fix it.” I said sarcastically yet (hopefully) flirtatiously.

        “Right, right!” he agreed enthusiastically.

I smirked and checked my messages. The plane was already up, but I’d use Roaming. Yeah, sure, another 5 bucks to my phone bill, big whoop?

Me to Mom: yep, I went 2 london. it was definitely needed, mom. thx so much 4 lying. ur the best mom!! I love u 2, mom. c u next week.♥

Me to Noah: I miss u so much! I went 2 london 2 visit my aunt. shes in bad condition right now. I cant call b/c im on the plane. plz don’t be mad @ me 4 drifting off. i—I love u 2. ur the best thing that’s ever happened 2 me. I hope we can keep dating. <3 if we were.

Now it was time for Kick.

Me to Kick: yes I remember the park. haha, that bird was out to get us! J kick, I forgive u 4 yelling but I cant date u. we can be friends & stuff though. I think that blonde @ panera likes u. and u should go 4 it.

The texts came whizzing by.

Kick: for the last time I don’t like Kacey. just answer this question: do u love me?

Noah: I totally understand about u dashing 2 london. & kick had homecoming tickets when u left…anything 2 explain, tho? r u sure u wanna date me with him around?

Mom: of course sweety ♥

Me to Kick: I do.

Me to Noah: thx so much 4 understanding. & noah plz trust me when I say I don’t like him. I really like u and our kisses prove it! ur the best person! ever! I want to go 2 homecoming w u!

Me to Mom: ♥

I had to wait awhile for the messages to come back but they did.

Kick: i just got the worst news!!!!!!!!!

Noah: then, ingrid marie Hollace, would u be content enough 2 come 2 homecoming with me, October 31^st?

Me to Kick: omg, what happened!?

Kick: my dad just died.

Me to Kick: I wish I could be in Bristow to comfort u! see how sad people get when people die? this is why u shouldn’t kill urself. u shouldn’t leave people like that

Kick: that doesn’t change my mind about October 31^st.

Bam. Bam, bam, bam. Homecoming = October 31^st. Kick’s attempt at suicide = October 31^st. How exactly was I going to do that!?

It was October 24^th. I’d be back on October 31^st, early in the morning. And October 31^st was a Monday.

I’d miss school—go to Homecoming (7—12:00) and rush to wherever Kick was. I was going to save him.

Me to Kick: be strong. I really do love u. im in love with u. at one point I wanted 2 marry u.

Me to Kick: how r u going to do it?

Me to Noah: yes! ♥

Kick: I’m going 2 jump off a cliff. its in manassas. 34840 Woodpecker Avenue. U can come 2 say bye but don’t stop me from jumping.

Kick: I want 2 marry u right now ♥

Me to Kick: I have 2 turn my phone off, bye.

It wasn’t a total lie. I had to.

My mind was racking with info.

·       Noah could be cheating on me

·       Thalia had changed into a total bitch

·       Mason was a hot guy who I could probably (without getting in trouble) mess around with until I left

·       Kick was going to commit suicide

·       Noah said he loved me

·       Kick wanted to marry me

·       I was going to try and stop Kick’s suicide—not sure how yet

·       I have the address to Kick’s suicide-attempt-spot

·       Homecoming was in a week

·       Kick’s death was in a week

·       Aunt Lucy made top-notch blueberry scones

·       Kick’s dad died

·       Mason had kissed me on the cheek (twice)

·       Lauren had slapped me

I sighed. Right now, I was mourning. I was away from the drama. Isn’t that why I came? To escape, to have fun. To be away from it all. I turned off my phone and smiled. I got out a book my mom got with puzzles and riddles in it, a blue pen, and my chapstick. I was ready.

        “Ever played Sudoku?” I smiled at him, tapping my blue pen against my (probably really kissable) lips.

“No, but I’m willing to play,” he smiled. “with you.”

“Great.” I said.

The flight was so pleasant. After a lot of hours, we got there. Simple. We got off the plane and I snapped my fingers.

        “What?” Mason asked.

        “I forgot about a car...and I don’t feel like doing the whole sign-up-for-a-rental-car process.” I sighed deeply. I was hoping he’d offer a ride.

        “Come with me,” he said. “Oh!” He said, while leaning into me. Mason kissed me—very close to my lips. The right corner of my lips to be exact. “Throbbing again.” he sighed.

        “Hate that!” I smiled. He returned the smile with a grin.

I was so happy—yet creeped. This guy was a stranger. But he seemed to know Aunt Lucy. So maybe not! He took out his shiny keys and I swear one of them belonged to a Ferrari. He walked towards a polished, glistening, red Ferrari and made a gesture showing me the car.

        “No way.” I was almost speechless.

        “Way. This is my car,” he said. This is my cah.

The seats were beige and begging me to sit in them. He pressed a button and the sound of locks unlocking filled the car garage.

        “Roof or no roof?” Mason asked me.

        “No roof,” I said. I hated choosing things—like if someone asked me: Doritos or Cheetos? I’d feel bad because if I chose the wrong one then something bad would happen.

        He nodded, pressed a button, and the roof slid out. I hopped in, trying to act nonchalant about driving in most of America’s dream car, sitting next to a hot British dude, and cheating on my soon-to-be-boyfriend. Yep. So normal.

        He drove really soft and gentle, like his kiss. Then I had a plan.

        “Ouch!” I said, clutching my cheek.

He slammed the brakes.

        “What’s wrong, love?” Mason asked. My heart melted at the word ‘love.’

        “It’s hurting…the slap,” I moaned.

“It kind of seeped down into my neck.”

“Oh, no problem…” Mason grinned, leaning into my neck and kissing it. Soft and gentle. He licked my neck, then trailed kisses up until he reached my lips. He kissed me softly at first, then went harder. He pushed his hand on the horn and it startled both of us.

        A police officer had made his way toward us…and we both pulled away.

POLICE OFFICER: Excuse me, kids, y’all are causing a big disturbance in the middle of the highway—by kissin’ or makin’ out—I dunno these days…but this is not acceptable so I’m gonna hafta give y’all a ticket.

MASON: That’s okay. Charge it to my dad’s card. William Wales…Heard of him?

POLICE OFFICER: Oh! Sh—um, I am so sorry Mr. Wales! Uh—run along! Have fun, you two!

William Wales? Oh!! Prince William!? No wonder the officer let us off the hook! And—that explains the Ferrari! And that also explains how Aunt Lucy knows Mason so well! He’s famous! At least in London.

        Good. I was popular, Mason was famous; we’d be the hottest celebrity couple in London. Oh yes!

I knew Prince William had a son named Mason but I didn’t know how he looked like. I don’t read London Weekly either…Hell, the only book/magazine I read are Vogue, Seventeen, People, and Us.

        “You’re dad is Prince William!? Why didn’t you tell me!?” I screeched.

        “That pickup line is old,” Mason sighed. “I was going to see if you’d like me for me.”

        “That scene didn’t change the way I felt about you. It was just a bunch of facts I didn’t know about you. Don’t worry,” I smiled.

        “I hope you don’t mind paparazzi.” Mason added, rolling the windows down.

Photographers and news reporters were everywhere. Flashes of light were blurring my vision. So this is how Lindsay Lohan felt.

        Mason grabbed my hand and interlocked fingers.

“Ready?”

“Born,” I whispered.

        “A new girlfriend?”

        “Reporting live at—“

        “Mason Wales, son of Prince William, has got a new beau!”

        “What’s your name, love?”

I was being attacked, like a zebra from a lion! I was a little bit scared, not gonna lie.

        “Want them to know?” Mason asked. Another decision placed on me.

        “Yeah,” I smiled.

He leaned into me and put his hands on my hips. My arms were strapped around his neck and I was kissing him like never before. Photo after photo after photo. I stopped, probably looking really slutty for kissing in public. But, why did I care? I was a huge slut.

       

Noah’s Point of View

5

Thalia’s House

8:00 P.M.

Meeting? Not sure…

        I missed Ingrid. I missed her like I missed Florida. Used to live there. I took out a butterscotch candy from my pocket and chomped on the sucker until I reached Thalia’s doorbell. Ding, dong.

        Thalia showed up at the door, looking exquisitely gorgeous. I know, I shouldn’t be rating her or looking at her…but she was a solid 11. She wore a see-through tank top—and I could see her lacy, red bra. She wore no pants. It was just her panties. She turned around. A thong.

        She wore red pumps that looked 5 inches tall. Her dirty blonde waves fell to her butt. God, I kind of wanted to be those waves that touched her butt—what was I doing!?

What was she doing!?

        “Thalia…?” I asked.

        “Come in,” she beckoned, her pointer finger drawing me closer.

I, stupidly, walked in and closed the door. She grabbed my hand and sat me down on a couch. It all happened too fast. My hands were everywhere on her.

        I kissed every single part of Thalia. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t have a condom on me either—and that meant one thing…Thalia wasn’t protected.

        I didn’t mind while doing it—all I cared about was the pleasure of it.

        “Let’s stop,” I said.

        “No,” Thalia gasped.

She was raping me now—and I didn’t like it.

        “Stop!” I yelled.

She stopped, cocked her head, and frowned.

        “I know you liked it,” she smiled.

She licked my lips and crawled on top of me. I unfastened her bra and kissed her breasts.

        “Yes,” I said.

I was breaking away from reality. Then, I pushed Thalia off, put on my clothes while she tried to take them off, and ran out. I was cheating on Ingrid! The best girl in the world! She was off visiting her aunt to have a mini vacation and her “loyal” boyfriend had just fucked her best friend.

        I was dead. Unforgiveable. Done.

Ingrid’s Point of View

5

Aunt Lucy’s House

October 25^th, 3:00 P.M.

Scones with Mason J

I did eventually arrive at Aunt Lucy’s. Turns out, Mason came here a lot. There was even a guest bedroom for him.

        “I’m so glad you took care of my Ing Bear,” Aunt Lucy smiled. She had smile-creases, and looked like the singer Adele. She smelled like warm blueberry scones. Always.

        “Anytime. Had no idea we’d run into each other. Was in Bristow for that meeting and bam, I met a beautiful girl named Ingrid.” Mason smiled.

We were both eating Aunt Lucy’s famous blueberry scones.

        “I’ve started to make raspberry scones. Will you two like to have the honor to try them?”

        “Of course,” Mason and I said simultaneously.

I took a bite into the scone and fell (or flew) into Heaven.

        “Did you add vanilla chocolate chips?” I asked.

        “’Course! New thing I’m trying out,” Aunt Lucy smiled.

        “These are amazing!” Mason exclaimed.

He was wearing a navy-blue-and-white striped shirt—long sleeved, gray skinny jeans (not too tight…loose and crinkled), and Sperry’s. He was a 9.

        “Look what I found in my mailbox,” Aunt Lucy tossed her newest edition of The London Daily to Mason and I.

It was on the front page. The headline read:

SCANDAL: Mason Wales has got a new beau!!?

I kept reading:

          This is our biggest news yet since the Royal Wedding between Kate Middleton and our very own, Prince William Wales. In the picture below, we have a shot of Mason Wales and a mystery girl; interlocking fingers!! And the shiny, diamond rock on her ring finger can only mean one thing—engaged!

        If we ever get the name of this mystery girl, then we will be sure to let you know! Do you know? Call us! 1-800-LONDON-DAILY.

       

“Engaged, huh?” Aunt Lucy smiled.

“No!” I exclaimed.

“Yet,” Mason mumbled.

“Y’all should!” Aunt Lucy suggested.

What. The. Crap. I only knew Mason for two days and we were already making out, holding hands, getting caught by paparazzi together, and discussing marriage!? I sort of already knew Mason in advance—Aunt Lucy had always talked about a Mason, and he was famous, but still!

        “In London,” Mason began. “we get married at an early age. I’m not proposing but I’m just saying.”

        “Yes, yes,” Aunt Lucy bobbed her head.

        “If I was going to propose to you, I wouldn’t buy you that,” Mason pointed to my ring. It was a gift from my dad before he—died. “I’d buy you a 6-carat rock crafted by the most professional people in London. And—I wouldn’t propose here. I’d take you somewhere memorable.”

        “So sweet and genuine,” Aunt Lucy commented.

        “I have to go. Um, cramps!” I screamed, running away. I pulled out my phone and had 6 new texts. Great.

Noah: miss u!

Thalia: noah is cheating on u, big time

Thalia: we had sex last nite J

Thalia: don’t u wish u were me? J

Mom: hows london?

Mom: take pix! J

I totally forgot about Thalia’s big mouth and her lies. I ignored and deleted her messages. I also blocked her number. I texted back my mom and Noah. Kick hadn’t texted me. I hoped he hadn’t done it already.

        I also didn’t believe Thalia’s new big lie. Sex with Noah? As if.

        Me to Noah: me 2 J cant wait 2 c u. remember thalia? she is telling me u guys had sex last nite. soooo immature.

       Me to Mom: I will! its gr8! c ya!

       Noah: she did? oh

       Mom: ♥♥♥!

        Oh? I didn’t have time to respond because Mason came towards me. “This is us,” he said, handing me the newspaper.

        The picture was of us kissing. You could see my tongue peeking out of his mouth. Haha, so classy.

“It is,” I said.

“I really like you,” Mason said. He traced hearts on my hand. We were on the other side of Aunt Lucy’s farm.

        “I want to go back home. Please.” I pleaded.

        “I have the money but I don’t want you to go.” Mason said sadly.

        Then Lauren rounded the corner. What the hell!? It was like a movie—when the enemy just randomly waltzes into the scene.

        “I’m here, Mason!” She smiled. Then she saw us. Then the newspaper.

        “Thought you said you didn’t like her!” Lauren yelled.

        “I never said that,” Mason said icily.

        “Yes, you said to meet me right here. Where you proposed to me,” Lauren said, lifting her head up high.

        “I never proposed to you! All we did was date! We were forced! Just because your name is Lauren Middleton doesn’t mean we are meant to be!” Mason spat.

        “Then what is this ring doing here?” Lauren pointed to a big, probably 7-carat, emerald-and-diamond ring on her finger.

        “I did not give you that ring.” Mason said.

        “Whatever,” Lauren said, flipping her hair, and walking away.

        “Please trust me that I did not—oh Queen Elizabeth—I didn’t invite her here.”

        “Convenient that she was here.” I said bitterly, walking away.

Yes, I was bipolar. Yes, I was leaving. Yes, back to Bristow.

~

The days flew by. It was October 30^th in a flash. Noah invited me over and I went. He seemed different—not very friendly. He led me to his laptop and went to www.msn.com. Front page. Again. The picture of Mason and I kissing. The next page was of us holding hands. The next page hurt my heart. A zoom in on my ring.

        “Are you engaged? To—to this British freak!? Did you go to London to visit him?” Noah was mad.

        “No! I’m not, I didn’t,” I paused and thought. “D—Did you have sex with Thalia?”

        “I—I,” he stuttered.

        “Not so innocent, either!? At least I didn’t have sex with your best friend!” I screeched.

I left that place and rushed to Thalia’s.

        “Take this,” I thrusted a pregnancy tester at her.

        “Fine,” Thalia pranced over to the bathroom, locked the door, and came out with it. She handed it to me and I cried salty tears. It read: POSITIVE: CONGRATS, MOMMY!

        “Haha! Thought it’d be negative? Nah,” Thalia laughed, rubbing her belly as I left.

I went to the one place I desired. Home. I just fell asleep, tears spread out across my face.

I woke up and sighed. Homecoming. Kick’s suicide attempt.

I didn’t go to school. I stayed home and cleaned for my mom. I made waffles—not blueberry ones. Just the original flavor with lots of whipped cream on top. I munched on it slowly. I was being so boring.

Hopping over to my laptop, I already saw it. Front page. Kiss. Ring. Ugh. I changed my homepage to Google. There it was again. It was the picture of Mason and I, except it spelled Google. I don’t know, they kind of morphed our faces and hands to spell it out…Cool, I guess.

        I went to Facebook and logged in.

Thalia Flores is now in a relationship

Friendship request from Mason Wales

Message from Kick Purdue

Message from Noah Thomas

Relationship request from Mason Wales

I ignored Mason’s relationship request but added him as a friend. I was so glad it didn’t say Thalia Flores is now in a relationship with Noah Thomas. She probably requested it but he ignored.

I opened up my two messages reluctantly.

From: Noah Thomas

To: My 1 and Only Love, Ingrid Hollace

I had sex with your best friend. You kissed the Prince of England. I think we are sort of tied, in a way. I don’t want to make up lame excuses. You don’t have to forgive me.

       And think about it, we weren’t even really dating yet. We should just start now. Refresh our minds. Because I know I love you and I’m ready to forgive. Your beautiful navy blue eyes draw me closer. Your lips—which are always so soft—keep me kissing you. And your personality makes me love you.

       If you forgive me, come to Homecoming. I will end it with Thalia right there in front of you. Please.

From: Kick Purdue

To: My Queen

          I saw the news…engaged? That’s cool. I guess it’s fun going out with the Prince. Well, I haven’t cut myself in a week…ever since you talked to me. I’m not jealous anymore—but I still love u. I don’t want to be the psycho ex-boyfriend everyone hears about. But I won’t move on until we are together.

          I love u, so much. More than anyone can explain. Your eyes make me forget about my dad, my messed-up life, my cutting, everything. Your hair is probably the most unique and beautiful shade of golden-brown I have ever seen. And u are just an amazing person overall.

          I heard about Noah, & im sorry u had 2 hear about all of it. if u need some1 to talk 2, I am here. even if I am still in love with you.

please tell me u remember the time I took u 2 Smoothie Man & we shared that strawberry-&-banana smoothie? please tell me u remember the warmth of my hand placed in urs? please tell me u remember how it felt to luv me? please don’t forget…
                   Love, Kick (Kick + Ingrid = ♥)

        I knew what to do. I had no date to Homecoming and I really wanted to go. Plus, I needed a quick ride to the place where…Kick would go.

To: Noah Thomas

From: Ingrid Marie Hollace

      I’ll go to Homecoming w u. & yes, were even.

To: Kick Purdue

From: Ingrid Marie Hollace

      I will never forget those memories ♥ ily2
& I kissed the guy but I don’t like him like that…please believe me. that ring was a gift from my dad before he disappeared or got murdered…or…I don’t  no :’(

      1 question tho: r u still doing the…suicide? L

Love, Ingrid ♥

Both guys were online so I chatted them:

Noah: thank u ♥

Me: yep

Noah: so r we dating?

Me: guess so

Noah: u don’t forgive me.

Me: …

Noah: u cheated on me, tho! were even!

Me: I kissed a boy. u had sex with a girl. that’s not even.

Noah: u cant play like that.

Me: im not playing. its not a game. & ur such a jerk. ur gonna dump thalia while shes pregnant? WOW. ur like all the other guys who fuck girls and totally ditch them afterwards. I don’t care if shes not my friend that’s just wrong. & 2 dump her in front of every1 @ homecoming including me? u no how ruined she is rite now?!!

Noah: u kissed the prince of England.

Me: go fuck urself.

Ingrid Marie Hollace has logged off.

I waited a few minutes until Noah logged off, too. Then I went back online and chatted Kick.

Kick: hey cutie J

Me: hey kick J

Kick: im feeling so much better…but im still doing the suicide

Me: why?

Kick: everythings going wrong. u still luv noah, or love mason, & I heard lucas likes u…

Me: lucas what?

Kick: lucas millard

Me: oh. but I love u!

Kick: its not good enuff. u don’t love me like I love u

Me: plz don’t act like that

Kick: so its true

Me: kick…I love u but I cant love u like that. u gotta understand were over

Kick: were on the same road again. go 2 homecoming w lucas y don’t u?

Me: fine! I will! u r getting annoying w this crap!

u caused all of this! u showed up @ panera and ruined noah & my date—which made me rush off to london, which made me meet mason, which made me kiss him, which ruined my whole life!

Kick: really? really? BYE.

Kick Purdue has logged off.

Shit. Rejected. Re-jec-ted.