Chapter 1

His voice was all I could hear. He yelled, telling me something important, something I should listen to. I ran, not understanding and felt the cold grazing my cheeks, my feet were prickling, feeling like icicles. Was I barefoot? And why was I running, was someone chasing me—something?

Yes, there was something after me—him. I felt cold, a strange smell...

Don't look back, a wise voice whispered. I listened to my fear and kept going through the pine trees—but if they were all pine trees, why did a faint smell of… of eucalyptus that made my head swarm. I couldn't think any longer, there wasn't any room for that, in the distance I heard the deep velvet of his voice growing more distant, colder—lighting sailed across the rosy sky. It struck down. Right in front of me—a tree was cut down, it was coming—I screamed.

Sweat trickled down my back, arms and my slacks stuck to my legs. Jesus, it was like I'd been sleeping inside of a sauna. My heart was racing faster than those Formula ones my Father liked so much. My hand dove to the bedside table's corner so I could steady myself. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten up so suddenly? Yeah, didn't seem like it, my head was swimming. I rubbed it, willing the clacking lighting from my mind—no matter what it seemed to crack with loud thundering sounds. Funny, because as I glanced out my window the sun was rising and there wasn't a cloud in sight, the day promised to be sunny through and through in Haven Hills. I groaned. How was I going to get used to this? Haven Hills, Virginia. I was a born and raised from San Diego—a Californian. I needed to be under scalding sun, feel it on my skin, the warm sand between my toes—not live in a place that apparently had a very unusual weather. I'd heard from my cousin Rupert—who used to live here, before going to Brown—that it could be raining hail one minute and a perfectly clear sky the other. Talk about weird, but then again, I'd fit right in. Weird was sort of my middle name.

"What is it?" I murmured dizzy from the nightmare—I seriously hoped that was all it was this time, a stupid nightmare brought on by stress and too much TV last night.

The door was pulled open and in came a very bouncy ten year-old. Geez, didn't kids ever run out of batteries? I knew I'd been Henry's age once, but had I really been that electric? Something in that thought made me wince. What was it…? Oh, yeah. No more thinking about lighting, or thunder—anything that could relate. I don't know what happened after the bolt struck the tree, but I was sure I'd been standing right in its path.

"Nina," Henry whined. Guess I wasn't paying attention.

I looked down at the familiar curly mess. Below it were those nice looking green eyes of his. I gave his hair a nice ruffle, making Henry smile.

"Hey, little bro," I stifled a yawn. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom's calling you down for breakfast—or you'll be late."

"I think you ate a few words there, bud." I drew my rumpled hair into ponytail. I would have to shower after eating.

"Oh… she said if you don't come down now you'll be late."

"That's better," I smiled at him before he dashed out the door, by his excitement I could already tell what we were eating—pancakes, which was just dandy. Giving that kid more sugar like he wasn't hyper enough.

I walked to my measly bathroom, it was tiny, but at least it was all mine. I liked that, it meant no waits in line for the main house bathroom. Not that we were lots of people, we weren't. As the water I splashed onto my face did its job I went back to what Henry said. Mom. Huh, when had that happened? When had he left 'Kelsey' behind and began calling her 'Mom'? I didn't mind, in my eyes Henry was like a biological brother. Though, I wasn't going to call Nigel 'Dad'. But our situations were very different. My Mom and Dad split when I was fourteen, Henry's Mother died when he was still three. Kelsey—my Mom—was the only motherly figure he'd ever known, it surprised me how he'd gone so long calling her by her first name.

Bounding down the stairs I felt the smell that wafted from the kitchen beside the stairway. It smelled heavenly in there, letting me know who cooked breakfast. Mom couldn't make French toast without burning them, Nigel was definitely our salvation. If it wasn't for him we'd still order take out every day and night.

"Look who it is, Miss Sunshine!"

I groaned, squinting my eyes—she never dropped that nickname, did she? It was a mockery because every single person who lived with me knew I wasn't a morning person.

"Morning, Mom…" I drawled pressing a kiss on her cheek like every morning for the last seventeen years. I tried to ignore how perky both her and Henry sounded—singing along with some kid's music from the radio on top of the microwave. I'd gotten my Father's sleeping habits for sure… "Nigel," I made to smile at him only to end up yawning—before an apology made itself past my lips a smell sent from the Gods greeted me. Coffee my one true love! "You're the only one who gets me." I wasn't sure myself if that was meant for Nigel or the steaming cup he was holding out to me.

"Let's just say I understand the importance of quietness, kid." He winked.

I nodded taking a whiff—hmm, fresh made, black—just how I loved it.

"This reminds me why I was so okay with you and Mom getting hitched." I joked, stabbing three pancakes onto a clean plate. My mouth was watering at the sight of the round, slightly crusty golden exterior.

Nigel's cropped hair made him all-professional looking but he was nothing like that—not home. He was a twenty-five year old stuck in the body of a forty-four old guy. It was one of the things I liked about him, among others like the cooking. He was truly a nice guy, Mom was lucky to have found him—or was lucky that he saved me from drowning back in San Diego. That was an epic first meeting, I'd say.

"So, new school?" Here came the Great Inquisitor. "Exited?"

"Ecstatic," I took the syrup and made sure every inch was covered in sugary goodness, I was going to need all the energy I could get if I was planning on staying awake. It was hard with all the dreams taking hours of sleep away, you'd think after eight years I'd be used to them? Well, no I wasn't.

Mom's mouth made a light pout, "Promise you'll try and give this town a shot?"

"Why? Will we move back to California if I don't like it?"

"No," at least I could thank her for her honesty. "You know we won't. California is over, this our fresh start."

Why did we need one in the first place? Because teenagers and drugs didn't mix—I was a teenager, I was impressionable and easily influenced apparently. My Mother was afraid I'd end up a junky, or I'd become friends with bad crowds and what if Henry caught the bug? No we couldn't have that. I never had any problem was it with drugs or beverages, but Mom was… suspicious. She thought something was the matter with me ever since she caught me trashing in my sleep night after night—my skin had been glistening with cold sweat, my eyes would roll to the back of my head and when she tried to get me to wake up… I wouldn't. Okay, the situation seemed bad—but it was totally not my fault! I was a freak; I'd accepted that a while ago. Now it finally ended my life by making us move here.

"Better make the most of it." I rolled my eyes stuffing a fork with three layers of pancakes.

"Nina I'm being serious. I know moving wasn't part of your plans, but this is the best thing—for everyone." Sure it was.

"Can you stop trying to sell the idea? We're already here, aren't we? It's not like I can drive back and go live with Dad and evil-Rose." Yeah, while Mom had gotten a good deal, my step-Mother was a complete bitch.

That made Mom smile.

"Don't say that," she scold seeing Henry rush by backpack in hand, looks like someone didn't mind being the new kid. "She's your Father's wife, if she makes him happy you should support him. Just as you support us." On cue Nigel pecked Mom's cheek.

"Don't give your Mom such a hard time, kiddo." He stood to full height, ruffling his son's hair when he circled him pretending to be an airplane. "You've got everything you need, champ?"

"Yup!" Henry barked like a puppy without a leash. "I'll see you later, Nina. By Mom!" He called before running out the back door that gave access to the little yard.

Nigel gave out a short, happy laugh.

"I better go before he learns how to hotwire the car." He dove back down, this time stealing more than a cheek-kiss.

"Drive safe!" She called and after he waved, closing the door she giggled—it shouldn't be weird anymore, but sometimes it was. Mom giggled like a seven-teen year old me did over a hot piece of ass.

But getting back to the matter in hand, "But you were lucky enough to find someone who's tall, chiseled and with an accent—not forgetting a major sense of humor."

"You're saying I got the whole package?" Mom teased me.

"Yeah, yeah you're a lucky gal." I did my best southern accent failing miserably. "Don't you have an office to get to?" My Mom made a face knowing this was my way of saying 'daughter and mother time—closed'.

"Fine, I'll get out of your hair." She held up her hands. The ponytail on my Mother was neat as always—I hated ponytails, basically because I sucked at making them. It was something easy enough to do, I couldn't get it right though. There was always some tiny strand that got away… I stopped trying. "Speaking of hair…"

"I'm going to wash it before going to school, chill Mom."

A dubious-funny glare was given my way.

"I just want you to have a nice first day, first impressions are important." Tell me about it. "Don't forget to close the house—the whole house."

"Mom—" She left before I carried on with my whine. I smirked savoring another bite of pancakes that worked every time.

 

***

The schedule was in my hand now all I had to do was ask someone where room 212 was. I was supposedly having Bio in my first period. Ask someone, easy-peasy. Wrong. It wasn't. I didn't have the gift of conversing with other people, not without being introduced by someone else, or forced to. In this case, I was being forced to interact with my peers because no one was coming for me, no knight in shining armor. All the peeps roamed the halls in their own personal style, some had company, others were loners—outcasts. Was that what I was going to become? That would suck, it was bad enough to move right before senior year rolled around, but add that to being a social-piranha for all semesters and you had hell.

Why couldn't schools have guides? While I was busying myself falling into a pit of despair a shudder rippled me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood. I was being watched, someone was watching me. Gripping my bag tighter I glanced side-ways, the coast was clear—no one standing and staring on either side of me. Definitely no one from behind because I was leaning on a wall… the last choice was clear. In front. Lifting my eyes I nearly collapsed into the wall. Those were black—obsidian eyes staring right into mine and if their color wasn't something to be taken aback by, the intensity in the gaze… it was crushing. My chest felt like it was being put through a bender. What the heck…? Why was this guy staring—correction—glaring at me like I'd ran over his dog? My clutch on the backpack went to whole new levels—my knuckles were turning white, soon my sun-kissed skin would be ghostly white, just like them. He was coming over—he was walking. The swagger of his hips was so… so hardcore, it screamed deadly. I shouldn't be taking him in and enjoying the well-constructed body the black-eyed boy had. But I was a girl—my girly seventeen-year old brain wasn't prepared for such off the scale hotness. I wondered when the hallway had become the boiler room. Hmm, I pondered, maybe it was the minute I set my eyes on the rest of him—hair, face, chest, arms—by that order. Onyx hair accompanied the black irises in perfection, the style was messy, the stylist probably his pillow. Some of the unruly bangs scattered across his forehead, highlighting his dark gaze. Hard-cheek bone structure taking me back to all those statues you saw at museums from Greece and Rome—they were cleanly cut, any imperfection about that jaw set had been erased if it had ever been made. I didn't have to force myself to wonder what his chest looked like under the black V-neck, lean six-pack? It would check out. The arms were just as well pumped and defined as the rest of him, broad shoulders played a final vital card rendering anything I could have wanted to say useless. Where had this dude come from? I wasn't aware they were having photo-shooting sessions here.

"Can I help you…?" Shouldn't I be the one asking for help? Although, judging by the expression on his devilishly-handsome face I wouldn't be getting it from him—not even if I got on my knees and begged. Not that I'd ever do it.

The Greek-model guy looked me in the eye a heartbeat longer. He licked his lips—full lips—in a fraction of time.

"Your eyes are strange." Ow, there it went my ego for today. What kind of thing was that to say? Though, yeah, I couldn't argue with him and say they were your average eyes.

"Look who's talking." I replied as a matter-of-factly and was beyond myself, even if it was true. I had golden eyes, not typical, but he had black eyes—heck, they were so dark I wouldn't be able to tell the pupil and iris apart if not for the hallway light raining down on us. "Yours aren't the most normal either, pal."

There was a narrowing of his eyes. I gulped instinctively.

"Who are you?" He asked quite bluntly leaving me in a slight daze. Not just because of his words—the tone in his voice… there was silkiness there, velvet—even if it sounded dangerous as a horror house.

My head stung all of a sudden… velvet? Why would I react like that—

"I asked you something." I abused my lip for a second, didn't this guy have manners?

"I heard."

"So answer."

I wanted to tell him to 'fuck off' he was seriously pissing me off with this attitude, but that wasn't me, not on a first day when I didn't know anyone—plus, the guy may be hot but he had a vibe… he was like Communist China, red flags were showing up all around him.

"I'm Nina Cortez."

His royal jerkiness arched a perfect eyebrow, his crossed arms dropped.

"Fine," he smirked forcedly. "What's your business here?"

Huh, come again? These questions were insane! My business here? Pretty sure it was the same as his—then again maybe not, apparently his was scaring the loving-crap out of new kids.

"Hum… attending school so I'll graduate?" Did he just roll his eyes at me? Oh, my God. What did this guy want!? "Look, I'm new and I need to get to class 21—" A yelp nearly rippled from my throat as a hand grasped my shoulder.

"What are you?" What? What was I? How about a girl who just arrived from San Diego? I frowned sincerely—this guy was starting to hurt me and why wasn't anyone doing a thing about it? They were all walking by like nothing was happening.

"I… you're hurting me." I whispered softly. I'd prepared for everything today. I'd washed my hair just like Mom said, it had its healthy tawny complexion, wavy—I'd been ready to face a hard time but this? This was outrageous. "Please…" So much for not begging, though I wasn't on my knees—yet.

With a last infernal glare, my back was solidly rammed into the wall—making no sound. Now I understood why no one was doing anything, at the distance we'd been from each other we might as well have been kissing. My nose wrinkled at the thought, the only thing I wanted to do to this idiot was kick his balls.

"Play it that way." I drew in a harsh breath as my shoulder sung with freedom. What gave him the right to sneer at me? And walk away with the last word!

"What the hell is his problem…?" I rubbed the tender spot on my delicate shoulder.

"I've been asking myself the same thing for a long time, sometimes I think he still hasn't made it through the stupid teen stage where he hates the whole world." My mutter had answer?

I spun to see who was delivering it, I wondered if Haven Hills was stashing every good looking dude.

"Wow," I would've felt stupid but there was a reason for me to be backslapped into the land of coo-coo nuts—it wasn't because this boy oozed as much sexiness as the other one… it was because of his face was a nearly identical photocopy. "You're…" I glanced over my still throbbing shoulder to where the heated, dark haired guy had disappeared to.

"Alike?" My head rushed to face the rusty-sand haired guy, nodding dumbly. "Yeah, we get that a lot. We're twins." Ah. That explained it. Oh sweet puppies all around, was I going to gush? No. I wasn't that kind of girl. I wasn't easily impressed, but baby oh baby. These two were more than swoon worthy. I was half-considering a talent scout. They could be on covers, commercials—freaking movie stars! And they were living here… in Virginia. I'd hit a double mine of hotness.

Say something, I chanted to myself.

"Huh… hi," way to make a save Cortez, that will surely put you on his highest graces…

With a small spreading smile, the rusty haired twin shifted his weight.

"Hi, I'm Phillip." Phillip, it was a nice name—maybe a little outdated? But I liked the sound of it as it resounded in the corners of my brain.

What I didn't like was me standing there like a mute creeper. I was just staring, much like his brother had been—only I wasn't looking for a target to wail on. I was never socially popular. I did know how to talk when talked to for Christ's sake.

"And you're…?"

"New here," shoot me, someone should save teenagers from embarrassing situations, this sort of thing shouldn't happen. How come he was still wasting time on me? Better yet, how was he still smiling like that at this hour of the morning? "Nina, my name's Nina and I'm new here… that's what I meant." I said pushing past my tiredness and overflowing shyness.

"I noticed, it's a small town, small high school. It gets easy to know everyone in it." He said whipping his wild hair aside.

Phillip said he and his brother weren't identical, it was true. Their differences seemed to be in their hair color and eyes—not to mention personalities. This one wasn't trying to pounce me like a defenseless rabbit. I couldn't keep thinking on a straight line much longer, not when I was witnessing the most vivid blue eyes in the world. They were… electrical.

A pang echoed when I banged my side into the lockers. No one pushed me, I felt a jolt making me jumpy… the scare was too great for me to hold my ground. Electric made me think of thunder, which led me to recall the nightmare. My fingers curled a tiny bit. That stupid dream had gotten me more worked up than I'd thought.

"Are you alright?" was that hesitation in his tone? Great, now he was going to think I was a freak, more than he'd already believed.

My cheeks burned when I noticed his hand was on my arm, his head was lowered to my level.

"Hum-hmm…" I heard myself mutter. Form a sentence, please, just a simple one. I begged my tongue. "I thought I saw a… bee." And I said it without blinking, what an achievement.

Phillip seemed to think over what I said before backing off naturally. The smile that had dropped from his face showed up. It was nice and warm—welcoming.

"I'm sorry." I said suddenly, as if my awkwardness had left the building. "I'm not really a people person, I mean I talk to people but sometimes I get shy around—" Sexy-as-hell guys? Yeah. "New people," so lame… "It doesn't help that I'm not a morning person."

Phillip's eyes shone with raw amusement. I would've told him off, but he had reasons to laugh. I'd been acting like an authentic scarecrow since he'd shown up.

"We have that in common."

"Really? I'd never think that."

A perfect eyebrow knitted, "Why's that?"

"It's seven AM and you're smiling." I told him, funny or not, my lips were turning up.

"Hmm, I see your point." His broad shoulder leaned into the wall. "But don't be fooled 'cuz to get me to stay awake they needed to pump me with two large coffees." My jaw would've dropped to the floor if I hadn't clenched it. What did you know? We had two things in common. Hard awakenings and coffee-obsession, sounded like perfect basis for friendship.

"They?" I said it out loud, didn't I?

He nodded, "My brother yanks me out of bed every morning—that's tough. My uncle makes me coffee and makes sure I'm awake enough not to choke on it while drinking it. I think of it as a team effort." I smiled and he transformed his into a mischievous grin. "And about the social part, no worries. You're doing pretty great so far."

I swallowed a nervous chuckle. He was optimistic, wasn't he?

"How do you figure?" shouldn't I be trying to get to bio? At least figure out where the lab was? Yep, that rang a bell, but…

"You haven't fainted or hyperventilated." Smartass, but nice—way nicer than that jack-ass brother of his.

Suddenly, when I looked back into his eyes—I couldn't. They weren't looking at me anymore. The vibrant irises were glued past me, I was itching to look over my shoulder and find out what he was gazing at. I couldn't though. That would be majorly impolite, right? Right.

"I have to go, class is almost starting and Mr. Willburg has a coronary each time a student's late for his class." He was leaving? No, I had to ask him—electric blue glued onto mine, I forgot whatever… "Nice meeting you Nina, I'll see you around." That was it. He walked away.

I was holding my schedule in my hand just like when his bad humored twin had backed me up into a wall. I still had no idea where to go and what had that been? Our talk had been going well… towards the end. Maybe I had freaked him out. I wouldn't be stunned. Freaking out people was something I did well. Especially when I told them something cryptic like 'don't get into your car today'. It wasn't often but some dreams I had sometimes didn't concern me, but people in my life. What was scarier was that sometimes my dreams came to pass—they happened. Once I'd dreamed about one of my middle school teachers… that scarred me for life. That was when I had confirmation something in me wasn't… normal. I saw her taking pills—pain killers in her bathroom, until she overdosed on them… they found her body two days later when she didn't called in sick or anything. Since then I'd been unable to ignore them—until then I hadn't taken them too seriously, now I did.

Anyway, I hadn't said a thing about any creepy dreams to Phillip—obviously. Which led me to wonder what he'd been staring at?

"What are you?" I felt my muscles lock up hearing those three words echo, the voice was underlined with velvet.

Velvet…? Why did that—I closed my eyes as the bell rang out.

I bit my lips quickly assuring myself Phillip's nameless brother was a nut-job, he was weird and that was that. Why would he ask me what I was? Like he had some conviction I wasn't human… which maybe I wasn't?

Great, now I was getting paranoid. What a nice way to kick off senior year.

2: Chapter 2
Chapter 2

After wandering around the halls aimlessly, feeling like an unwanted puppy I'd gained a nice dosage of courage to ask a girl to point me in the right direction. That same girl was sitting with me, and was going to be my lab partner for the rest of the year—if things went swiftly, without trouble. As long as I didn't warn her about possible future events. I was following my Mom's advice—starting over. I could do that, maybe I could turn this move into something good—to my favor. In this high school no one wrote 'freak' across my locker. All I had to do was keep my ability on the down low, not fall asleep during class and wake up screaming some nonsense—yeah.

If I was going to play normal, I was should be listening to all the themes we'd be learning. Turned out everything else seemed more interesting than listening to an old lady preaching loudly—I glanced down at my leg. A hand was tapping me, it kept doing its job until my gaze met up with Dawn's—my sunny partner.

"She sounds like a banshee." To bottle up a laugh I coughed earning a glare from a nerdy kid on the front of class.

I slit my eyes playfully as he turned to the front.

"How about geeky-brains over there?" I whispered, leaning closer to her pointing the guy's back. "I bet he has fantasies with Mrs. Mayfield because he's deeply in love with her." Dawn tittered little by little, a shush came from the front, again from the nerd—it only served for our amusement.

"Maybe he has photos of her on his walls." Dawn chuckled.

I pinched my thigh, willing myself to stop. I wasn't looking to get kicked off to the principal's office on the first day, getting scolded wasn't part of the list either.

Dawn tapped her pen on the fresh notebook, it seemed to be an apparent tick. I didn't blame her, Mrs. Mayfield was going over the lab's instruments and how we had to be careful when dealing with each of them. We all knew this by now, it didn't seem to stop this old fossil. I was being a bad, bad girl, calling mean things to my teachers. This was probably the result of being cornered and assaulted in the hall by a guy who didn't say coherent things. What had those questions been about? Did he belong to the CIA? Who was I? Like that was any of his business.

"What are you?"

It made no sense … Phillip's brother—no offense—was a crazy lunatic. Maybe I was being drastic but after what I went through I could think like I dammed well pleased.

Dawn's scarf was a nice blue, building a contrast with her curly auburn hair and mocha light skin. She was pretty, nice too—a complete ball of sunshine. She'd been hyper when I asked for directions, her happiness only grew when she learned we had the same class—the whole schedule was pretty identical.

When class was let out Dawn took me to the next one—Trigg. We had it together but on one seat tables. Time dragged on as our teacher jumped right on subject. Formulas were written in a sloppy calligraphy on the board. I transferred them to my notebook, not understanding much of anything. I was still on vacation-mode. My body was lazy, too tired and battered with heavy sleepiness for me to focus on anything. What I wouldn't give to go home and sleep.

Lunch hour rolled around and I was dragged over to the cafeteria. Dawn was making it her mission to introduce me to everyone and I meant everyone. Was it strange that I'd hit it off with a popular girl? Not popular as in mean, she was sociable, the kind of girl all people liked.

"If I give you my lunch money will you please stop?"

"Stop what?" Dawn's curls bounced atop her eyes.

"Going around saying 'hey guys, this is Nina, please be nice and talk to her because she has no friends'."

"I didn't say that." She tipped her lips up as I set my hands on my hips, regarding her. "Okay, I did, but just the first part. And lunch money? What do you think I am, a bully?" I should stay quiet about that. Dawn was being nice and that was good—being super-nice was part of her. "Come on, I'm going to tell you what's good to eat around here."

She practically filled my tray in two minutes. Her explanation was quite simple: keep away from the nachos and chili dogs. Veggies, sandwiches and fruit were in the okay zone.

I walked behind her unsure where we were going to sit, or if I was sitting with her in the first place. I mean, until now she'd been acting as friendly tour-guide and talking to me but now she probably wanted to be with her friends, people she knew for more than three hours. My eyes spotted a lone table in the cafeteria's corner. Seemed like a good place—

"And now," she said with emphasis staring straight into my golden eyes. "It's time to meet my friends." I was stunned; I couldn't lie and say I wasn't. This girl was willing to share her friends and the time with them… with me? "Come on, Nina." She hurried nodding forward.

Blinking from the daze, I nodded following her through the students and other tables. I was aware of some stares and murmurs. It was expected, I was the new kid.

"Hey, guys. Hope you don't mind but I brought company—fresh meat." I chuckled under my breath—they quickly died, being replaced by chills.

A stare was glued on me. I'd experimented this sensation today, and… to my horror it was the same person giving it to me now. My throat felt tight and dry. Phillip's brother was sitting on the table where Dawn's friends were supposed to be. Oh boy. This meant… it meant he was one of her friends! No way, there wasn't a single change this nice-going girl was pals with a bad tempered guy like him. But the thing was he was still sitting there, eying me under his long lashes.

"Hey—hallway-girl," another voice—familiar—sounded from my left. I looked down spotting the rusty hair. "Nina, right?" I opened my mouth unable to speak. I was still feeling ambushed by his twin's obsidian gaze. "Can you stop smoldering her with your eyes? It's freaking her out, Cam."

Cam…? My gaze stole a glimpse at the dark haired brother. The minute I did, I wished I hadn't. His arms were crossed in an intimidating gesture, lean muscles bulking nicely and a cold face, clear as ice, stared back at me.

"Stop being a dick." Dawn shoved his shoulder, it barely moved him. "She's new, don't scare her away. She's nice and hot—so what's your problem? It's always that last part that matters to you anyway." Every little blood drop rushed to my face, the blush made my cheeks go apple-red like the natural color of my lips. "Ah…" she sighed rolling her eyes as she tugged me down—my tray slipped from my hands due the sudden pull and before I gasped a hand shot out.

The white food tray didn't hit make a clack on the floor, it didn't spill anything, all remained on top of it. All because it was resting on Phillip's palm. That was how he'd stopped it, it was phenomenal. He'd caught it fast, accurately with no hesitation. His fingers were spread under the tray, making it ample.

"Nice save," I whispered out, blinking.

"Show off." Dawn gave out a laugh. "You couldn't resist impressing her, could you?" she swooned batting her eyes at him.

Phillip scowled at her, stealing his eyes from mine.

"I'm just helping, it's called being nice." The electric glare drove past her to his twin. "I wish some people knew the meaning of that word."

Cam's cold face gave way to a smirking façade. Well, I think that was less scary than the alternative.

"You always were full of virtues, little brother."

"Little brother…?" I asked out loud when Phillip set the tray in front of me. "I thought you were twins."

Cam's smirk turned arrogant, "But we're not Siamese twins, are we?" I parted my lips, he cut me off. "Huh, you're even dumber than I thought."

"Cameron—" Dawn spread to my defense but it wasn't needed.

Something broke, "You were the one who harassed me while I was minding my own business. I wanted nothing to do with you, I just wanted to find my class room and you backed me into a wall!" I said a little louder than expected my hands even slammed on the table—guess this guy just made me angry.

Dawn's outraged voice followed my snap, "You did what?" she looked like a mad pixie ready to kick him in the ass, I'd help.

"I was just having a conversation with her, asking a few things. She wasn't much help, though." Yep, this guy was positively insane.

Cameron's excuse didn't stop Dawn from glaring at him while eating a piece of carrot.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" This again? Didn't he get tired of the same old thing?

"I transferred to this school, I go here." I boiled.

Cameron let out a snort, leaning forward. I hadn't noticed it, but he'd been tipping his chair backward all this time.

"I meant what are you doing here—at this table?" My eyes lowered from him, my heart beat faster and faster. His tone was filled up with disdain. It shouldn't bother me, I didn't know this guy, as far as I knew, he was a jerk to everyone else—not just me. It stung, though, it really, really did.

My hands fell to my lap, curling out of sight. I carved my nails into my palms, willing myself to be okay, to stare him in the eye and tell him to 'piss off'. But there was no way I was doing it. Why was I at this table…? He clearly didn't want me here—

"Back off, bro. You're being a jackass for no reason." Phillip's voice was measured, sounding closer to Cameron's. "She hasn't done anything—"

"I don't like her. I don't need more reasons than that to want her out of our table." I shakily tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

A hand rested on my shoulder showing support, it was Dawn's.

"God, you're being rude. What's your problem today? Still haven't hit anyone?" she bantered easily, telling him off, not scared of his soul-chilling gaze in the least—not like I was.

Cameron didn't grace anyone with an answer. He opted to stay silent, slipping into a cool expression hiding any emotion from view. Maybe it had worked and he was going to leave me alone? I wouldn't mind never talking to him again.

"Sorry," Phillip whispered after a while, I was sorting through my salad having lost my appetite. "He's not usually this much of a… douche-bag." Oh, nice. There went my theory. It was only with me that he added a little more jerkiness to the mix? I felt very important.

"I'm not sure that makes me feel better." I stabbed a piece of cherry-tomato. I knew he was trying to lift my spirits but I didn't think it was possible. The ambience at the table was dangerously moody, it was like a heavy cloud hovered above our heads.

"Right, well, don't worry. Just ignore him, that's what I do when he gets on my nerves."

"How do you manage that?" I mumbled seeing Cameron was distracted by something to his right. "He's… pretty scary." It was a crime saying he was scary, 'cause his appearance was dead-gorgeous, but mixed with his attitude… spooky.

Phillip's laugh brought Dawn's eyes to us and she wagged her eyebrows at him. He groaned. I settled for a grimace, was she going to turn into cupid?

"He knows how to mess with you, that's a fact." The copper haired twin nodded. "I'm serious though, ignore him. He'll stop trying to get under your skin if you do." He smiled sweetly leaving me wondering how these two were related, twin brothers none the less. It seemed they were complete opposites… poor parents—wait. Phillip had mentioned an uncle, no one else. "Did you get to class alright?"

I was pulled out of my own little world. He knew I'd been trying to get to class? Did I ask him…? I don't think so, then again, I was shaken up by everything. To the meeting with Cameron to finding out two hot twins went to my high school.

Waving my bristling unease away I looked at his face.

"Yeah, thanks to Dawn. Our first and second period classes were the same."

"What were they?"

"Bio and Trigg," I stuck my tongue out in a childish act. "I think I spaced out during both, so I can't tell you which one bored me more." Phillip's lips broadened into a grin.

"Well, I almost dozed off during Trigg, so that was definitely worse than Mrs. Mayfield's class—then again we did have some fun during that one…" me and her shared a personal eye-exchange stuffing down our giggles.

Phillip chewed on his sandwich. I wondered what it was made of, it had a strange smell—like ham? Who liked that?

"Something on my face?" he asked after swallowing a big bite.

"Hmm, no..." I muttered feeling myself about to chicken out. I looked in front of me slowly, so Cam wouldn't notice me—he wanted to make me leave. I didn't know why, I couldn't understand why he didn't like me. What I did know was that I didn't want to give him that satisfaction. I wasn't backing down, I wasn't going to feel threatened and stay quiet because I was afraid of his rude comebacks. With my resolve burning brightly, I turned to face Phillip. "I just don't like ham, and you're eating it." I shrugged, waiting for something—nothing happened.

"Really?" he eyed his food, spying a quick glance at me. "That's a new one. I never met someone who didn't like ham."

"I take after my dad." I decided to stop playing with my salad and jump to the fruit. Halfway through peeling my orange a crunch came from the front, where Cameron sat. My head flew up, hair flowing back falling well below my shoulders.

He was just eating, eating an apple. A crunchy, green apple—I saw his teeth biting down on it taking a big chunk out—delicately like he was savoring every tad of succulent juice that dripped to his tongue. What was so hypnotizing about that?

"Don't drool, Rapunzel." I was jostled from my fantasy universe. Cameron looked past me before anything else happened—his jaw movements stilled.

Phillip took notice sharp as a hawk. He glanced over his shoulder, his perfectly set mouth hardened. The back of my neck was burning, I wanted to turn, I wanted to know what was making them so strange. Dawn hadn't been affected by whatever spell the boys were under, she kept talking about a guy named Zeke and how he was late but I was going to love meeting him—I just couldn't help myself when my head whipped around.

I couldn't exactly pin-point what they were looking at—but I could guess it was the same the rest of the cafeteria was gazing at. A girl, tall with a nice frame walked down with no tray only her messenger's bag over her shoulder. She was looking sheepish, no doubt hating the looks of pity and wonder the students and even the lunch ladies gave her. She had nice skin, a little pale—actually, it neared snow. It was beautiful nonetheless, complete with shiny ebony hair curling in on itself, resting in front of her shoulders. The impish features were sort of delicate, yet potent.

The girl was nearing our table, no hesitation in her walk. I slowly returned to my previous position, eying the half-peeled orange. Who was this person?

"Oh—hey, Vanessa you're back!" Dawn all but jumped with an hysteric laugh when the black haired girl stopped inches from our table. "Finally, I thought you weren't showing up for the first day of senior year." The two were obviously friends, long term maybe, because Dawn went to wrap her arms around her—Vanessa took a step back. "Vanessa…?" Dawn's voice whispered worried. The look in her eyes told me she was confused, hurt and preoccupied. "Is everything alright—I mean, does something still hurt is that why?"

Hurt? Looking at the girl I saw her in perfect health.

Vanessa looked down, I saw her eyes faintly—they were quite the color… how could I explain it… rosewood? Yeah, something unique like that.

"No, nothing hurts… I just prefer to keep away." Her head lifted. "I'm sorry," her voice lowered into a softer tone. "It's not you, it's just since the… thing, I don't feel like I can do close contact. It's… weird but I just…" she bit her lip not finishing, instead she gave her head a shake.

"It's okay, I'm sure Dawn understands." Phillip spoke up calmly, gently. Dawn's lips etched into a slow smile—it wasn't a brilliant one. "Sit down, V." He nodded to the empty chair separating him and Cam.

She eyed the spot unsure. I never felt so much tension as when her gaze locked with Cameron. Vanessa seemed to shrink, it wouldn't be wrong to say she wanted to take off running, either away from here or… to him? Now that was strange—screw that, everything about this was weird. I noticed the people weren't talking as loudly as before she waltzed in, no, there were whispers murmurs—but no loud talk.

"I'm not sure it's a good—" A chair scraped against the tiled floor making me wince. "Cameron—"

"Stay," he whispered walking past her, not granting her a look. "I was done anyway." I looked back to where he'd been sitting. Sure enough all that was left of his apple was the core. How had he eaten that so fast? I would've choked for sure.

After Cameron left and Vanessa sat down next to his twin, the cafeteria seemed to return to normal, with a few spied looks at mystery girl.

"Give him time." I caught Phillip muttering, pushing his tray away.

Vanessa looked at him through the spaces of her fingers.

"I've been giving him time—the whole summer. Nothing has changed, Phillip. I don't think it ever will…" she lamented meekly, continuing rubbing up and down her face.

Phillip didn't open his mouth to console her over whatever it was she was going through. He shut his mouth running a hand through that silky looking hair of his, huffing out a breath. My eyes didn't resist stealing a glance at his chest, or what I could see of it. I silently thanked the three buttoned down buttons.

"If you stare any longer I'll have to charge you." I gulped dryly feeling like a fish that had been tossed out of the water. A loop-side grin lighted up his face. "I'm joking," my chest was about to heave a breath— "You can keep staring, I like attention." My eyes popped, nearly exploding into goo.

What the… what a smartass thing to say. Guess there wasn't a perfect nice guy inside of Phillip. He wasn't nearly as arrogant as his brother though.

"Who says I like what I'm seeing?" Wow, Cortez, where did that come from?

It was impossible not to think about shocks when looking into his light blue eyes, they were lit with bolts of energy, and as he came closer to my side, sliding to the near edge of his chair… I felt my heart stop.

"I just know."

My brain wasn't thinking, I was acting on instinct, "How?"

"Now," his breath was warm—like an Indian summer warm—it washed over my cool face making me all tingly. "That's a secret you'll have to find out on your own."

The current between us was severed when a pair of eyes rested on me. Oh Jesus, I'd completely forgotten about the other two people at the table. Dawn was being quiet looking at something in her phone, Vanessa on the other hand… she was looking at us—at me.

"I'm Nina." I introduced myself feeling impolite. I just flirted in front of two people—and one of them seemed to be going through a tough patch.

Vanessa stared mutely. She stared, and stared—until she nodded. Her eyes were distant for a while, until they focused and I mean they really focused. Her gaze kept jumping from one thing to another, but wherever it stopped it looked like she was in deep concentration, figuring something out—listening to something only she could. Vanessa remained quiet throughout the lunch hour.

Just what had happened to this girl?

3: Chapter 3
Chapter 3

One week crawled by like a slow breeze. I wasn't used to this small town pace yet, not that I thought I'd ever get used to it. One thing I was sure, I'd never forget getting up and seeing the ocean view—Haven Hills couldn't compete with that. The sound of waves crashing by the beach, rolling into the sand—howling alongside the wind in stormier days... I missed all that, and would probably miss it for a long time after seventeen years of it. But nothing was eternal—unless we were talking about my recurring dreams of running through trees in a haze of fear and anxiety. The sound I could recall better when I woke up was the thunder. In my nightmare it sailed across the sky chasing me, getting closer and closer until a bolt would crash down hitting a tree. The same old pine tree—in the middle of tons of pine trees that all looked alike. Pine smell, lighting and... a boy. Someone—something, that chased me, put me in danger. Why else would I run from it?

Shaking my concern over dreams I hoped wouldn't turn out to be true, I got inside my old Toyota. This car had definitely seen better days—maybe ten years ago it would've been a sight. Now, it was just a piece of junk to me—I just couldn't let my dad know. He loved this car. He bought it when he and mom got married and kept it for his kid, he must have had a strong conviction that I was going to be a boy... he actually tried teaching me some stuff on car engineering, it went without saying that had been a total epic fail. I put the car in reverse pulling out of our driveway. The motor made a gagging sound before purring a little signaling I was good to go. I drove through the long lane of houses that seemed alike in every detail, they either had two floors like mine, or another one—I think they were attics because they were way too small to be another house level. The walls were white, the roofs were black, the bushes were cleanly cut near the porches—I had to say that seemed to be the only difference between them all, the décor out on the porches.

When I reached the end of my street I made a turn left on Madison Avenue—this Avenue went on for miles, I wasn't exaggerating and it was the only name I knew—besides my own street and home address. It was a straight line and two rights until I pulled into Julian Ivory's parking lot—yup, that was the name of my high school. I think Julian Ivory was a big mayor for the town years ago, not like I had History so what did I know? Mom was the one who mentioned it a few days back.

The minute I slammed the door I jumped five-feet, back pressing onto the white painted metal. Books were spilled on the parking lot's asphalt ground. I heaved a tight breath pinning my tawny waves from my face.

"I swear, I'm gonna tie a bell around your neck." A nicely watted smirk played over a set of perfectly full lips.

"I said hello." Phillip swatted his hair aside, glancing down. "My bad," he crouched before I waved my hands in front of his face, clearly saying it wasn't necessary. I shouldn't feel bad but I did, because if I wasn't such a scary-cat my books wouldn't have fallen—so I crouched beside him. "What are you doing? It was my fault." He muttered grabbing my Trigg book—I frowned.

"I was going to get that one." His stunning water-lake eyes shone with taunting. I shifted my eyes to where he was looking, my English notebook—then our eyes met, his flamed with... challenge?

"Bet you can't get it before I do." He was daring me, it wasn't that big of a deal—it was probably true what he was saying. I knew that just by looking at those strong biceps, still...

"What... are you doing?" A voice called from way up—it was strong, laced with a sexy velvet. I groaned inwardly—the jackass-twin had a arrived, hurray.

Phillip's head tilted up so he could glimpse at his brother.

"Helping with her books."

"Why? It's not your fault she's a klutz." I buzzed with irritation and the day had just started. I could feel a headache coming on already and it wasn't because I was lacking three hours of sleep.

"I scared her, she dropped them. It wasn't her fault." The copper haired brother threw back before I had a chance to talk back. Apparently Cam would go away if I didn't talk to him, according to Phillip. So, he was doing everything in his power for that to happen—including talking in my defense.

Cameron was quiet, but he moved. He walked around Phillip, towards my notebook—

"There, that's your last notebook. We can go now." He chucked my notebook at me—at my head!

"Man," Phillip sighed placing the rest of my stuff on the hood of my car. I was busy rubbing the hurt spot and glaring vigorously at Cameron to see Phillip's hands wrap around my arms. An explosion of fire made my skin crack. Flames danced along my skin, prickling me nicely—how could that be? How could something so hot feel good... really good? "Go, I'll catch up to you in a minute." He glared at his twin helping me on my feet.

Cameron's shiny obsidian eyes slitted at his brother.

"No. I'm not leaving, not while you're alone with her." Gee, what did he think I was going to do? Phillip was 6'2'', I reached, like two inches above his chest—both their chests since height was another common factor. And what did this jerk think I was? A serial killer?

"Yeah, Phillip, be careful I might go psycho and paint you with my markers. I don't think they come off in the wash." I dropped with tons of heavy sarcasm. "Douche-bag..." I muttered leaning against my car feeling safe enough with Phillip separating us.

Cameron kept his mask of coolness, not moving an inch, but I'd seen his jaw grow tighter. He didn't like me, I didn't know why, but since I wasn't going anywhere boo-freaking-oh, he had to put up with me just as much as I did.

"We've talked about this already." Phillip gave Cam a glance over his broad shoulder.

"You talked while I pretended to listen. That's what big brothers do." The rusty haired twin made a face of hopelessness for a minute. "You have one minute before I come all the way back and drag your ass inside. Got it?"

With a fake-cheery salute that had me giggling on the inside, Phillip said, "Yes, sir." But not even that changed Cameron's demeanor, you'd think he'd smile every once in a while? Phillip smiled, really smiled—not smirked arrogantly ticking everyone off. Or grinned like he was about to unleash hell.

Before leaving us in peace once and for all, he tugged on his brother's arm—Phillip's hold on me vanished, my heart cried out in protest. In the chilly weather it had felt heavenly, the hotness his touch aroused in my whole body. It wasn't just because I felt warmer on the outside, it happened on the inside too. I couldn't even wrap my head around why that was or what it meant—not yet. Cam mumbled in his brother's ear before stalking away, not giving me a last glance.

"He's really warming up to me." Phillip smiled gently with an hint of sadness. "I didn't even know I had it in me to be this sarcastic." I muttered stuffing the books back in my backpack, making sure it was closed all the way this time.

"Yeah, Cam can really bring out sides of person just by being himself."

"You mean a pain in the ass?" I crudely put regretting it right away. "Sorry, I know he's your brother and all..." he shrugged leaning on my car's side avoiding the part where rust was slowly building up. I should at least pay for a paint job.

"He has a hard time warming up to strangers." Okay, I'd give him that—maybe he did, although I believed he just like screwing with people's heads, make them feel uncomfortable—so it was just his f-ed up personality. But even if it was how he said, why the hell did Cameron want me away from Phillip? It completely blew that shy theory to pieces.

Onto another thing... "You talked about me?" I followed him to the steps that led to the double doors. Phillip gave both a charming and timid glance—God almighty those were two sexy dimples.

"I admit, you've been a discussion topic once or twice at the Leale household. I thought you deserved a friend at the enemy camp since you've been putting up with whole week of insults." It was true, since day one Cameron made it his job to shove me from... well, everywhere. Anywhere he saw me he'd bully me with striking comments. Sometimes it wasn't what he said, but the way he said it, like a cold blizzard was rushing behind him prepared to freeze me to death. How could someone so incredibly hot be so... despicable? Phillip wasn't a rotten apple on the inside, at least.

"By the looks of things you lost the battles." I pointed out, my lip corners tipping down. "Guess I'll just have to suck it up." I blew out a sigh reaching the stair's top.

I nearly outbalanced myself when a hand—warm and soft—touched a little above my jean clad hip.

"I won't leave you for dead if that's any consolation." I wasn't going to lie and say it didn't make things more bearable. I detached myself from his side, squinting my eyes. "Nina?" he asked really quick. Phillip's face blurred, the outlines of everything became faded like I was seeing everything through distorted glass.

"I'm fine, it's fine..." I got out feeling my hands trembling. I was alright, this wasn't strange for me. Lack of sleep made my body—especially my legs—all weak and jelly-feeling. I'd gotten pretty good at hiding the chills and trembles, this time it had been stronger. I couldn't have kept standing as if nothing was happening, trying to tear me down. "I didn't eat very well this morning." It wasn't a complete lie, eating half a bowl of cereal wasn't my regular breakfast, plus, I ate it while rushing out of the shower to get dressed. Like most nights, I woke up and couldn't sleep for a few hours, when I managed to close my eyelids... the alarm went off. I pressed the snooze button so many times I nearly slept in. Speaking of which— "We should get to class. I rushed all the way here so I wouldn't get a tardy slip."

His eyes studied me strongly.

"You're sure everything is fine? Maybe you should eat something else before going in. I'll go with you to the cafeteria."

I shook my head taking a tentative step forward, into the school. My foot didn't protest—much.

"I can make it, I'm not going to double over." He made a face but nodded. "Have you seen Dawn? She was supposed to meet me here..." I nodded to the parking lot. There wasn't a sign of her.

Phillip laughed, "Don't worry too much, she'll be here. This is typical."

"Typical?"

"Dawn runs late most of the time. You've been lucky so far, seems like she doesn't want to leave you hanging in the middle of strange territory." Oh. During this week Dawn had become a life-saver, my safety boat in the midst of it all. It wasn't just because she liked having me hanging around—it was because I liked her, too. She spent hours of each day trying to convince me life here wasn't as boring as I made it out to be. Dawn took me to several street stores around town's square—God forbid there be a mall in this place. She even tried to influence me into having a manicure and pedicure—I didn't take her up on the offer, not that I didn't want to—I did, but what she was doing was so... nice? I wasn't used to it. We had things in common and I never made a friend so quickly before, I was taking things slow. Her happy personality was extremely welcome, she managed to uplift me every time something great when Cameron ticked me off. "I showed up. Nice change in the routine?"

My insides chimed with happiness. Starting out a school day with a smoking hot boy at your side was a little better than a friend with a bouncy attitude.

"Sure, I loved it—especially the part where my stuff flew from my bag. That was the highlight of our morning."

"It could have been worse," I gave a skeptical glare. Was he also forgetting the part where his twin smacked my head with a hardcover notebook? "No one drove over your stuff." Huh, that was a good thing. Books were expensive things, mom wouldn't like it if I had to get new ones right before using them.

I sat in my seat right before our English teacher strolled in. I fixed my eyes on my table, avoiding Cameron's eyes. He hadn't stopped staring at me since me and his twin walked in. I shook my hair making it shadow my face. He only gave up when his name was called out—I sighed feeling thankful for role calls. Leale—that was their last name, I'd found out in my second day when we had English together for the first time. When I asked Phillip what it meant later, he said it was Italian for 'loyal'. These twins had everything, didn't they? Tall, handsome, exotic—Cameron lacked in the friendly department—but heck... they were near perfection. How could people like that exist? They just made other boys look pitiful.

"Ms. Crawford, I was just about to call out your name. Good to see you've made it to my class today." My eyes shot from my scattered pens, finding the mysterious girl who I'd met five days ago in the cafeteria. I had no idea she was in my English class—I hadn't seen her since Monday. "I hope you're doing better, as do we all but I won't be lenient to sloppiness." Wow, this Mr. Carter seemed cold blooded. While I didn't know what happened I could see it had left its scars on her—not on the outside but on the inside. If even I, a newcomer, saw it how could he be so cold? "You are still like every other student in this class." There was stiffening in her stance, her smooth jaw clenched. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Can I just sit down?" she exhaled more calmly than I would've. The dark haired teacher nodded taking his eyes off her.

Vanessa looked painfully shy when she reached an empty seat. It didn't take me long to figure out it was because of Cameron. The seat was right beside him. Their eyes crossed, he pretended it didn't happen—that she wasn't there. Only looked straight ahead. Vanessa closed her eyes pulling her chair closer to the desk, placing her elbows on the table. This was all but normal behavior. I didn't know what was worse, the way Cam acted towards me or the way he acted with Vanessa. She seemed turbulently upset by his attitude. They weren't strangers, they had history, they had to... but what happened to her?

Out of the blue, our eyes met. Mine and Phillip's—it was surprising because he was sitting in front of me. He kept looking over his well-formed shoulder. Phillip's eyes danced with mine to a mute melody, we just... looked at each other and it felt nice—amazing.

"Something I can help you with?" my voice came in a short whisper, I tucked a wavy lock behind my ear.

He thumped his fingers on the side of his desk, "I was wondering what you're doing after school?" Huh. What?

"Nothing," I answered sounding like a naive girl who never got asked out—which, yeah... I hadn't. It didn't mean I didn't know what this was for. "What are you doing after school?"

The left corner of Phillip's mouth lifted, "You're funny," he thought I was kidding—nice. "I was thinking of going to the Lighthouse—it's a place we hang out after school."

"I know, Dawn dragged me there two days ago."

"Of course she did." He looked a little let down, it didn't linger more than a second. "I bet I'll be a better company than her." I shook my head at his cockiness. "Just don't tell her I said that—" A book smacked Phillip's wooden desk causing him to whip around, and I had to say... it was like he didn't move at all, like he'd always been staring to the front.

"Mr. Leale, why don't you share with the rest of the class what you've been discussing with Ms. Cortez?"

I couldn't see his face but I'm sure it was something like mine—caught off guard.

"It was nothing." He shrugged, voice laid-back.

"I'm sure it must have been something interesting, after all, you've been ignoring our rehash about Dante's Inferno for five minutes." Mr. Carter didn't pick up the worn copy of D.I. from Phillip's table. He continued eying the younger twin with a mocking glare.

"I'm pretty sure that's the book where the guy goes to hell." I moved a hand to my mouth so Mr. Carter wouldn't see me smile.

"You're knowledge of literature leaves me stunned every time, Mr. Leale."

"I try my best."

"Let's hope that's not your best, or you'll end up with an F—for failure." The youthful teacher spun on his heel, taking the book.

Phillip gave a dashing wink turning around just as quickly as before—he was crazy fast... I only seemed to care about how his impossibly beaming eyes stroke my core leaving me all kinds of speechless.

Ten more minutes into class, the door smacked wide. A panting Dawn stood bent, hands on her knees. Her hair was curly like every other day, the bag hung limply from her hand.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Mr. Carter—I was chased all the way here by a—"

"Get in, Ms. Villars and spare us the old excuses and antics." Dawn skipped all the way to a seat in the front. "You'll have a tardy slip—"

"I'm used to it—so go on, don't let me stop your fascinating explanations about..." she stopped leaning over stealing a glance of a book copy. "This depressing-sounding-adventure." She cheered shrugging softly, resuming pulling out her stuff.

Mr. Carter definitely had stuff to say about Dawn's big entrance, he pinched the bridge of his nose before carrying on with his boring view on the nine circles of hell. It had to be the most boring subject I ever heard—who wanted to hear about tortures, dammed souls, demons and everything in between? I didn't. This book talked about freaky, freaky stuff—things I wanted to get away from. Apparently I was stuck reading it for the rest of the semester.

"Goody, like I haven't enough nightmares..." I muttered to myself watching my young, stern teacher walk back and forth—he was talking about limbo where the ones who didn't accept Christ resided—I took a pen popping its cap off.

The classroom became distant, far from my sight, from my mind. Mr. Carter's strong voice was reduced to a hum, getting lighter and lighter, duller and duller. I could barely identify any words—were they words I was hearing? To me they were muffled rattling sounds and they kept fading—until I was alone. I was by myself. The only thing I was aware of was the pen in my hand, my hand... it felt light—almost like I had no power over it. Around and around it went, drawing something—my eyes only showed me haze as I tried to focus on the page below.

A shock rippled over the surface of my skin, ripping me from my little corner. A twisting began inside me, a pull I couldn't avoid—it was beyond my control and, finally, my eyes were focused. Now though, I was looking the wrong way. I was staring at Cameron's swimmer's back. I flinched—the black pen rolled from between my fingers, toppling. I held my hand to the level of my eyes, never tearing them from him—it was like I was glued to him and... had I just been shocked? Like, electrocuted? It was a tiny spark but... why the hell would it happen? I was just touching the pen, drawing... numbers?

An eyebrow knitted. What did the numbers 16 and 9 mean? To me, nonetheless?

"Hey," a girl next to me whispered. "You dropped this." She held out my pen—I stared at it. Nothing weird about staring at an animate object like it was a knife about to strike my heart. Giving me a squint of her eyes—calling me freak in her mind—she tossed it to my table.

So much for a new reputation, I sighed shutting my eyes. My fingers traced over the numbers I'd written over tons of times. I hadn't thought about drawing them, I hadn't thought about doing anything really—I hadn't wanted to pick up the pen. But I'd done all those things. Shaking my head, I glanced up determined to stick to what he was preaching—Cameron glared at me from out the corner of his eye. I felt my heart stop seeing Vanessa watching the whole thing, and I couldn't read the emotion in her face.

***

I crumpled the piece of paper tossing it into the trash. I'd spent hours thinking about those two numbers—I figured it was all a stupid result from my sleepy mind, they probably meant as much to me as school spirit. I wasn't the cheering-type, you'd never see me in a shorty skirt, pompoms in hand looking perky.

"I think Mr. Carter wanted to murder you." Dawn wiped her head to me, so did Phillip. "Both of you."

"Well, when you're as good looking as I am you're bound to be envied—to top it off," Phillip lowered his voice at the same time he placed down his water bottle. "I was talking to a pretty girl." My cheeks went into red-alert. I saw auburn curls jumping about—was she really bouncing up and down in her chair? "She can embarrass you to death." He commented in my ear, a shiver caught up with my spine.

My happy-sunshine friend smirked.

"Don't detour this conversation, Philly—" the younger twin groaned, something told me he hated that nickname. I stifled a giggle. "You just called my girl 'pretty'."

"So? Anyone can see Nina's pretty." Had he any idea what he was doing to my heartbeat? I think not. "The people who don't need eye surgery." His adorable dimples made an appearance. If he didn't stop soon, I was going to break into a happy-dance and then Dawn would lose the title of 'Queen of Embarrassment' passing it on to me.

My new friend's nudge made me recoil—who knew what was going to come out of her mouth now... She leaned in when Phillip bit into a slice of pizza, I scooted to her so she'd speak very lowly.

"He's completely flirting with you!"even her hiss of contentment managed to sound like a yell, I sighed. "I've been friends with him forever—and I don't think I've ever seen him so... outgoing." That was hard to imagine, by all the cheekiness he dished out. "They keep to themselves most of the time, you know, when it comes to girls." They—meaning him and Cameron.

My eyes wandered off our table. There wasn't a single leather-jacket-wearing-boy here. There were guys with football jackets, baggy hoodies with tacky letters—but not one of them showed Cameron's impeccable fashion sense—Phillip was the closest one, but even him was different. While Cam wore dark colors, leather jackets and boots, Phillip wore light colors—white was the one for today. A white tight T-shirt, though plain it looked expensive as I did the bleached jeans.

"With that attitude I'm surprised he finds girls." I said threw my teeth, wishing I could hit Cameron's head with something hard—maybe a piano?

"Being the quarterback helps—" quarterback? He was on the football team? He could definitely be in it—with that lean, but strong-looking built—but he didn't strike me as a jock. Though he was a jerk, so yeah.

"Really?" Dawn nodded. "Why doesn't he hang out with his teammates then?" I bit with more bitchy-snark then intended.

"He does when he wants to." She shrugged. "These two are weird like that, they could have the whole school falling at their feet but they choose to stay in the shadows as much as possible." I saw Phillip rolling his stunning eyes. "Anyway," Dawn batted her lashes at me, making me back up. She simply leaned closer, chin resting on her hands. "Phillip is a great basketball player. Too bad the season hasn't started—you'd love to see him play! He's like a pro, freaking super-boy."

"Dawn's making a big deal out of it. I'm not that good—"

"He's NBA material." She sing-songed.

"NBA material?" I asked. I knew little about sports in general—but from what I did know about basket, was that NBA was the big league.

"No—she's overselling me." He looked rattled and uncomfortable. I had to say, it was cute. "Don't you have anyone else to bother? Where's Zeke?" my eyes jumped when he mentioned Zeke. He wasn't what you'd call a tough guy, not at first sight. He wore baggy clothes, even loose denim jeans. He seemed the typical football player, with his blond hair blown and spiked in every direction.

Dawn flicked her hair aside—it sprung back into place immediately. "In the jock table—he's the one laughing like a maniac, probably over a stupid thing." All in all, Zeke had seemed alright the few times I'd been around him—the typical American guy only with a nice streak. It was true what they said about people in small towns they were all nice. Well, there was one exception to the rule out here, he wasn't worth thinking about.

Vanessa's face popped up when I saw a girl with dark hair walking by. Mr. Carter had really been a jerk to her. I hadn't spoken about her to Dawn, though I was dying to know what happened to her. She felt like a fragile glass that could shatter. Steering my soda I glanced to Phillip.

He pulled a piece of pepperoni from his second slice—he sure ate a lot. Those two pieces were huge.

"You don't like peperoni, what's wrong with you?" I asked holding up the vegetable between my fingers.

"With me? You're the one who doesn't eat ham and there's a problem with me not eating vegetables?"

"Vegetables?" I noticed the plural.

"Huh-uh, I don't eat anything green. You're not a vegetarian are you?" nope, I shook my head. He placed a hand on his chest, heaving out of breath like he'd dodged a bullet. "For a second there, I thought you were going to pull a protest sign from under the table and a megaphone from your bag."

"Hmm, then I'd chase you down with a mob of angry vegetarians wielding torches and forks yelling 'animals are people too'." I entertained his idea twirling a strand around my finger. "But seriously, why don't you eat vegetables?"

He shrugged, "They're just... yucky." I chuckled at his five-year old response.

"Not even my brother uses that excuse—and he's ten." I said stuffing the yucky thing, like Phillip said, into my mouth. He made an outraged grimace as I chewed it.

"You have a brother?" I nodded swallowing down the food. Dawn already knew about my brother, my whole family situation—that my parents were divorced, my mom remarried and we moved here for a fresh start—I left out the part where mom believed I was a junky or hanging with stoners. Phillip hadn't a clue, because in the last week I'd seen him sporadically. I don't know where he disappeared to, but between classes and sometimes lunch, he was nowhere in sight. Cameron normally was.

"I do—well, he's my step-brother—his name's Henry."

"Your parents are divorced?" Phillip tread into the parental territory carefully, afraid he'd trigger something unpleasant. I understood, for many teenagers divorce was a hard—for me it wasn't. Mom and Dad argued most of the time so they decided to spare themselves—and me—the pain getting a divorce. Sure I didn't welcome it at first, but with time I understood them. I saw how they were happiest apart—that sometimes hurt, I could deal, though.

"Since I was fourteen," I ate another of his rejects enjoying grossing him out—it was fun. "Mr. Carter is kind of... a jerkoff, isn't he?" wow, I surprised myself with the sudden turn of subject—I'd just been dying to ask.

Dawn tuned into our "private" conversation like a woman on a mission.

"He is the biggest prick in the history of mankind! I swear, he's the only teacher who doesn't buy my excuses—he doesn't even let me say anything, how does he know if I'm lying?"

"I don't think he'd believe you got attacked by a swarm of bees." That had been her excuse, she'd told me after we left class. "Do the other teachers believe you?"

"They do." She nodded proudly. "Of course being this adorable helps." She made a kitty-pout my way, I found myself wavering into a smile.

"Mr. Carter is a know-it-all kind of guy. He loves books, loves what they teach. The dude's a known workaholic and if you don't take his class seriously—" he made a slicing motion in front of his neck. "You flunk."

"How come you haven't flunked? He didn't seem to like you and you definitely don't take what he says seriously."

"Because I have my very own mentor," my eyes rose as I drank my last bit of soda. "Cameron beats everything into my head right before tests, quizzes—all that shit." Cam was a jock, studious and he had the local bad-boy's rep? Man, he was a strange guy. "He needs to get laid."

So I wouldn't spit the remaining soda, I swallowed coughing, "Cameron...?" I asked meekly.

Both of them broke into a steady laugh. Phillip ended it first giving a firm head shake.

"Mr. Carter," he cleared up. "Cameron does fine on that field." He did? So he didn't make every girl feel like dirt? Now, that's impressive, the thought tasted stale in my mouth.

"I heard he gave Vanessa crap because she was there after the first bell." My attention picked up. Phillip shrugged not bothering with telling her what happened. "Speaking of which... do you know where she is? I was going to talk to her after class, she just disappeared."

The younger twin scratched his neck's side with a finger, looking past Dawn's shoulder.

"I think she's in the library."

"You mean she's hiding there?" Phillip coiled his shoulders at her hard voice. "Unbelievable—I'm the best friend but I know absolutely nothing. I have to ask her ex-boyfriend's twin." Dawn was being super-snarky and—hold up.

"Ex-boyfriend...?" Did that mean...?

"Yes," she said. "Cameron and Vanessa were together for four months until she got—" she stopped the words, something horrible passed her eyes. "Something awful happened and when she needed him he broke up with her." Sounded possible from what I'd seen. He didn't give a damn about her—or anyone. Dawn's chestnut eyes shone onto Phillip, who's face was guarded. "The weirdest part, is that now she hangs more around you than me. Your brother was a cold blooded jackass and she talks to you."

A tickle ran down my whole spine, making me snap my head to the side. There he was, just behind me and Dawn.

"Dawn," Phillip muttered under a breath. He knew Cam heard what Dawn said. She glimpsed over her shoulder Cameron marching away—deadly-swagger and all. "Nice going." He got up.

"I just said the truth. He might be your brother but what he did was wrong—he left Vanessa when she was vulnerable—so on top of what she had to deal with—still has—she has to handle heartbreak." Her gaze was furious, pupils wide pleading for him to see her side—maybe tell Cameron he'd done wrong. "How's that fair?" she added in a smaller tone.

The electrical blue I knew took on a more icy-front.

"Don't talk about things you don't know." And that was that. He grabbed his jacket leaving—maybe going to check on his brother.

"Phill—" I cut myself out eying the cafeteria's door, he'd left already. "He forgot his backpack." I shared softly, but Dawn didn't hear or if she did, for the first time, she ignored me.

Biting my lip, I stood, slinging my own bag over my shoulder then picking his up. If I hurried I could still catch him, he couldn't have gone far. I took my first steps to the door, my foot wavered a few times. I stopped pressing my eyes shut, making the sleep go away.

4: Chapter 4
Chapter 4

Walking halls on end I nearly gave up my search for Phillip. He'd been long gone when I exited the lunch room, his trail was cold. I hadn't wanted to go back inside though, I wanted to look for him. Something in me... compelled me. Maybe I just didn't want to be around Dawn when she was looking gloomy. I knew it sounded selfish on my part, but it wasn't just the part where she was sad. It was because I felt like an intruder—I couldn't comfort her over Vanessa. I had no idea what happened to her. I just knew it had been bad, probably dingo-ate-my-baby crazy.

Huffing a long breath I turned into another—my balance ended as soon as we collided. I went down on my butt. A sharp pain shot through my spine. Damn, I winced, I hit the wall...

Phillip's backpack, along with mine, were fallen beside me. I should've watched where I was going. And that was exactly what I muttered to the other person—my mouth clamped when I saw who I ran in to.

Vanessa.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled again, dazed. I'd gone down but she was standing on top of perfection.

Her peculiar hardwood eyes shot to me. They were... shifty. Afraid?

"Don't worry. I'm fine." The words were measured, almost like she counted them. I straightened, pulling a wince as I rubbed the sore spot down my back. That was going to leave a nice print. "Are you okay?"

"Huh, I think I'll live." When it became obvious she wasn't going to help me up, I helped myself by using my assaulter-wall. "That was a hard fall..." I rubbed my head, shaking it.

Vanessa's eyes glued themselves on Phill's backpack.

"What are you doing?" her gaze made a slow crawl to me.

"I'm trying to find Phillip. He left his bag back in the cafeteria." I grabbed the stuff off the floor, hanging my own over the shoulder. When I looked up at her, she was statue-still. Gazing at me. Unease built up low in my stomach—that gaze... it scared me. At least, I had a sense that I should be scared. I cleared my throat, "You haven't... seen him around?"

Her skin seemed paler than on Monday—but that was impossible. The first time I saw her I thought she could rival Snow White's complexion. That was hard. Had she looked this paper-white in the morning? I hadn't noticed.

Vanessa gulped, not even aware she was doing it, I'd say.

"That's nice of you," she began. "Taking his bag to him. It's nice." Her eyes were skidding down from my own, tracing down my cheeks, chin, stopping on my neck. Shivering, I backed into the wall—that made her shake her head, blink her eyes, making them go from glazed to alert. "I have—I saw him back in the library." When I parted my lips to thank her—she left abruptly, avoiding me.

Okay, I had official entered freak-vill. No wonder she and Cameron had dated, they seemed like a perfect match. Strange behaviors and rude. Maybe Cam was the reason for Vanessa's behavior. I wouldn't be surprised that she became a whole new person after dating him.

I had to ask the janitor which way was the library, since I hadn't been there yet. It was a small, quaint thing. The shelves were a light brown holding up plenty of different books that were probably alphabetized and divided into genres. At the entrance, the school librarian sat behind her round desk reading a book. Her eyes lifted to acknowledge me and that was all.

Looking around I didn't see Phillip, and he was easy to see. Either twin would stand out in a crowd. I walked all over the library passing rows and rows of books—nothing. No one except the geeky guy from my bio class and a girl typing fast in a computer. Sighing, I ventured for the exit. Where was he—

"Did you see what she did?"

"She didn't do anything—it was almost."

"Almost. Do you hear yourself, Phillip? Almost." That was Cam's voice—irked, raging, whispered and... worried? Nah, I must be day-dreaming. "You're okay with her almost snacking on a defenseless person?" my face went all WTF and I got closer to the hallway where they were talking—arguing—alone.

A heavy sigh filled the empty halls.

"No, okay? I'm not alright. But what's the solution, Cam?" dead silence came between them. "I get that your feeling gu—"

"Shut up," he hissed making a strange sensation arose in the back of my neck, like the hairs were standing. "This has nothing to do with what I feel. It's about you trying to teach her something you know nothing about. Nothing." Phillip groaned like he'd heard this speech a hundred times before. "Last time I checked, we weren't like her. She's not like us. We're not the same, not even close."

"At least I'm trying to keep her from going over the edge. Beats moping and brooding."

My head spun as they threw arguments back and forth. I didn't understand what they were talking about, or who—who was the 'her'. I just knew that whenever Cameron's voice ran I felt myself get dizzier, and dizzier. It was a constant battle to keep myself standing uptight.

"You can't help her. You don't know what it feels like—we don't know. Why can't you see that you're only putting everyone in danger!" Cam's voice was followed by a large bang—like metal had been punched—I inched to the hallway and saw them.

My eyes locked on Cameron. From his face I looked at his hand—fist—and then at the huge dent on a locker next to him. The dent was big. My eyes jumped to the curled hand at his side, I swear there had been... there had been blood when I first looked at it. Now there was nothing but flawless tanned skin.

My knees buckled, my vision blurred. Weakness like I never felt before overtook me, my body—and when our eyes met from across the hall—mine and Cameron's... what traveled between us in that single second was brutal. It started in my scalp, as a tickle, it went down like an eel slithering pass my vertebra's, growing into prickling, until it exploded into a shockwave. My eyelids didn't stand a fighting chance, as they closed the last image I saw—or I thought I did—was a blur coming at me, grabbing me.

***

Voices ushered in my ears. The way they sounded was strange, like my head was wrapped in thick gauze and it muffled everything. It was a horrible feeling, like I was losing my audition. I tried moving, and failed. It felt like I was a giant cotton ball.

The surface wasn't at all the most comfortable—this wasn't my bed, I decided. My bed sunk when I sat on it, it was heaven. The place I was laying on felt thin, too thin, and right below it was a hard, solid surface.

"—she just collapsed." I heard. It was only a fragment of a phrase, all was still drowsy. I felt like I'd been sleeping for days, my muscles were so... relaxed.

Eyes trying to open, I groaned. All the lights made me feel like I was on an operating table—my thoughts flashed to one of the many episodes I'd watched from Grey's Anatomy. Was I in the hospital?

A shadow crossed my head, my vision. It made me muster up more courage to part my lids. Of all the things I expected to see—a man in scrubs standing over me, scalpel in hand, or even my mom—I saw... Cameron Leale. So not the hospital, maybe hell? Was I in hell? Because to wake up to the number one jackass on my list wasn't what I'd call happy hour.

I moved my lips. They were cracked, dry, as was my throat. What happened, I wanted to ask him despite my dislike. He was here, wherever here was, that meant something, right? It wasn't until he shifted that I saw beyond him. A set of curtains hid the world from us—kept us alone. But there were shadows being projected on them, from two different people. I could see they were speaking only didn't hear what they said.

Eyes moving in beat with my accelerated heart, I met his eyes; the ones that were staring down since I opened them, even before. Who knew? Deep in his obsidian eyes was a glitter—his pupil shone like the midnight moon. They were captivating, alluring like he was—hold up. Since when did I find this loony alluring?

I was sure he was going to say something, I saw it in his eyes, his face—for the first time I thought I saw his cool exterior melt leaving—Cam moved, I held my breath—the curtains were drawn aside. The light hit my eyes like a bitch. So much for the compassion I thought crossed his eyes. Soulless jerk, I never hated anyone, but I was starting to hate him.

"Sleeping beauty's awake." His thumb jerked to me.

Before I shot him a glare or took in my surroundings, another person—boy—jumped to the side of my bed.

"Nina," I heard clearly. Phillip had let it out as a relieved sigh, like he'd been worried sick. "Hey, how are you feeling?" fine, maybe a little shaky and way too slinky but, I felt alright. Now, it would be awesome to say it out loud. But why wouldn't I be fine...? What happened to me? "Nina?" his fingers stroked some waves to the side.

"Water... please." I croaked.

"Right away, dear." A sweet sounding voice—like chocolate—sounded from behind the two swim built boys.

I caught a glimpse of the woman. She was so small next to them, and she was wearing a white outfit... like a nurse. I blinked. Of course, I thought, the white cabinets, tiles and cot's lined up—I'm in the nurse's office. I turned my head and heard the sound of creasing paper, it came from under me—the mattress was paper-covered.

"What happened...?" I coughed slightly. All I could remember was... looking for Phillip—yeah that sounded right—

"You fainted," Phillip filled me in quickly. I would have smiled at the soft tone he was using—I didn't, simply because the person beside him was just to damn frustrating. "In the middle of the hall."

"Here you go, sugar." The old nurse was back—she was plump, in her late sixties. The hair was white caught in a bun. She had a curvy, sweet old face, like a grandma. Way nicer than the one at my old school. She had looked like a troll.

"Thanks," I rasped. I had to sit up to drink, I had to move. My arms began buffeting my weight, I placed my elbows down on the uncomfortable mattress pushing up—huff. Well, I thought sadly glancing at the white ceiling, this is embarrassing. Why couldn't my body move?

"Now, what are you standing here for? Crowding? Do something useful and help her up, Cameron." The nurse barked in a scolding manner. There wasn't any reaction.

I nearly yelped when two hands grasped my shoulders. The touch wasn't vicious, it wasn't trying to rip me in two like in the first day of school. It was...gentle. As he helped me sit, I looked at his face. His hair shadowed most of his eyes. I would have thanked anyone else, but not him.

I held the plastic cup when he backed off. It wasn't long before I drained it, the nurse took it from me while I appreciated the gift that was water.

"I'm alright," I said finally, rubbing my face willing something to resurface. I couldn't recall what happened in the... hallway. "Why did I faint?" I gazed from the nurse to Phillip, avoiding Cameron.

"Well, I can't be one hundred percent sure, but from what Phillip told me you hadn't eaten this morning. It was probably low blood sugar." That could have been a possibility if I hadn't had lunch right before... Phillip knew that. It could have been, however, from the fatigue catching up to me. I never experienced this before though, I had never fainted. I could easily do without a few hours of sleep, no biggie. There had to be something else... but what? I felt a headache coming on. "I'm going to get you another glass—this time with sugar. It will help."

Feeling grateful, I managed a faint smile. It only lasted until the nurse sauntered away with the empty cup, and the idiot broke out his horrible mouth.

"Maybe if you didn't eavesdropped on other people's conversations it wouldn't happen." Cameron's snap made me whirl my head all the way to him. The stone cold glare made me shrink into the mattress. "What were you doing following us around?" the hiss was low, something in me flipped.

I leaned forward seemingly recuperating from my temporary weakness, facing him head on. I tried to give him the deepest glare I could.

"I wasn't eavesdropping on anything. And since when is it your business what I do?" I knew there were other people in the room—two other people. Phillip and the nurse. I should shut up, quiet down at least, I didn't. Cameron set me off like a firecracker.

"It is my business, Rapunzel." He spat the God-forsaken nickname he'd been calling me all week long. I gritted my teeth, my head began pounding. All because of him. "Especially when you're listening to private talks—my private talks."

A humorless laugh escaped my throat, I didn't know how but my arms were crossed over my chest, my chin held high.

"Please," I rolled my eyes—twisting the pain in my temples, it didn't stop me, though. "I was looking for Phillip so I could give him his stuff back. Get over yourself." I spat the last words in a scoff.

Cameron's already hard-bone structure grew harder—so defined that I could see a jaw muscle jumping. A hand showed up on his broad shoulder.

"She just woke up from a blackout, calm down, will you?" Phillip shook his brother's shoulder lightly, gently—like what he was doing was the equivalent of a pat on the back.

Little by little, I watched Cam's face calm, relax—as relaxed as he was around me.

"Whatever," he bit. "I'm out of here." He shrugged his twin's hand.

My hand shot to my chest as his back turned. It was beating slower...? Or it seemed so to me. What was up with that? I couldn't keep my off his classical-leather-jacket clad back—some sort of cramp gripped me, my heart. And I didn't understand why, why this was all happening when... when Cameron stole one last glance over his shoulder. No one else saw. No one but me. It was for me. In that short flicker of his unreal eyes towards mine... I forgot everything he'd said—for a second—but then he went on his way, door closing.

What had that been about...?

"He was worried too." Phillip mumbled, arms flexing as he crossed them.

"Why are you always trying to make him seem... likable?" I found that I was comfortable with showing weakness in front of Phillip so, I rubbed my temples.

A shot of disappointment shot across his clear-blue eyes.

"He was the one who caught you if that makes it any better."

My nails carved into my palms, "It doesn't." A blood shortage must have assaulted me, my brain had to be suffering or something, because my chest heated up knowing what Cameron did.

"I wish I'd been the one to catch you, though." I smiled shyly, refusing to jolt when he tucked a hair behind my ear. "If I hadn't left my things in the lunch room you wouldn't have searched for me—you probably wouldn't be in the infirmary." Phillip's finger ran down the side of my cheek, a simple gesture that was foreign to me.

My eyelashes couldn't stop batting. My insides were all twisty and excited. It was normal they would be, no boy had ever touched me like this. That knowledge made me feel pathetic, I was glad humans didn't read minds.

"Alrighty," the school nurse popped up from nowhere. The cup was shoved between the space Phillip had been occupying. "Drink it all down, dear." Mrs. Prichett—like her tag read—smiled brightly, it dimmed when she looked to Phillip. "Where did your brother go?" Phillip gave a short shrug. Mrs. Prichett's pushy eyebrows rose. "I will never understand that boy." She sighed leaving to another room, shaking her head.

That makes two of us, I thought.

When I gazed back at the sandy-haired brother he was taking my things from the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked sitting on the edge of bed—slowly not to lose my balance.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, I don't need to go—"

"School ended about an hour ago. You've been out for a while." He came closer, about to put an arm around my waist.

I scooted to the side, away from him.

"I can walk." I wasn't just saying it because I didn't want help. I really felt like I could walk, like whatever had happened had blown away by now. "Really." I drew out giving a thankful smile.

Phillip shrugged sympathetically. He never left my side as I lowered myself off the cot, onto the floor. I was able to feel him tracing my steps as we walked to the door. My feet weren't dragging like part of me had expected, it just went to show how correct I was. Whatever took over me had left.

"Your brother has serious issues." It left my mouth. I didn't think about what I was saying, it happened and once it had, I just wanted to undo it. Phillip halted his short strides, he'd been accompanying me. His electrical eyes glinted over to me. "It's true," and I just kept making things better. "From day one he's had it out for me. He hates me for no good reason—what did I ever do to him? I don't understand how you two are related." I rushed it all out of my system, watching his expression shift at the end. A nice, big grin lit up.

"We're alike in a lot of ways, that's what we're told most of the time." Who the hell told them that? Because they had to be blind and deaf. "I'm not trying to make my brother seem likable to you. I... I guess I just want people to know him—the real him, the person I know he is. Not what he likes to project." The amber in my eyes was probably twinkling madly, like millions of stars. What he said sounded so... wishful, something he longed for desperately. "My brother is capable of being a first rate jackass, but under all that—" he opened one of the double doors for me. I gave him a short nod, ducking under his arm. "Under all that he's..." I wondered if Phill was going to say something like 'a big softy' if he did, I would faint again, because Cameron deserved an Oscar for hiding himself so well. "He's really overprotective."

My brows itched as we arrived by my rusty Toyota. It was a lovely sight. Not.

"Of you?"

"Among a ton of other things—and people. He just doesn't like showing it."

"Right, because it would kill his bad-ass rep if everyone knew he has a heart?"

Phillip's laugh was jovial, clear and true. It was one of the most beautiful melodies I ever listened to. My lips moved on their own accord, curling up—soon I was giggling.

"Ha..." he calmed down leaning on the side of my car. "I guess you won't come with me to the Lighthouse today?"

"No, I don't think so." I don't think they called my mom or Nigel telling them I fainted or else one of them would be here. Mom was still at work, so was Nigel and Henry's school wouldn't end for another hour. No one had to know what happened to me. "Did you miss your classes?"

"They weren't all that interesting—history and geography—you saved me from an hour of pure boredom."

I shook my head, "You're terrible. Is there any class you like?"

"No," he muttered with a long sigh, tipping his head back in faked despair—he chuckled along with me. "I never liked school or anything related—aside from basketball."

"Do you want to go pro?" if he played as well as Dawn bragged he could.

Light diminished from the entangling blue that were his eyes. A shadow crowded around the planes of his face, like all of a sudden he'd been told someone died.

"That would be nice." He whispered with yearn. "I don't think it will happen, though."

I nipped at my bottom lip, cocking my head.

"You don't know that." I pushed from my car, getting closer, inches from touching his chest with mine. "Dawn says you play really well and you don't seem the kind of guy that has low self esteem."

I thought I saw a beacon of hope between the muddled, stormy emotions I couldn't begin to sort through. Phillip wasn't a dark-kind of person. I looked at him and I saw light—maybe it was the color of his eyes, always so bright and vigorous. It was hard to believe someone so open-hearted could have feelings such as sadness and doubts. It shouldn't be strange, because all of us had something, something dark, something to fear.

"Sometimes things don't work out as we want them to. Sometimes..." he paused avoiding my eyes. "Sometimes we have to sacrifice what we want."

"Why?" I asked softly feeling like a well of empathy, like I could... channel what he felt.

Phillip shook his head—a smile that didn't show its usual vibrancy spread.

"Do you want me to drive you home?"

I thought about it. It didn't take me long to answer, 'cause there was the sign—never let people get too close.

"I'll be fine on my own, thanks." I reached for my bag, Phillip let it go. After diving around for the key I unlocked my door. "How are you going home?" I asked not spotting any car around us. I'm guessing no one wanted to stick around in the first days of school—or had to.

"My bike's over there." He jutted his chin all the way to the parking lot—wholly cow. That was... a really nice piece of art—for a bike. Not that I knew anything about bikes, but it was what any guy would call a sweet ride. "Like it?" I heard the smile filling his tone. "It's a Ducatti Monster." Monster? It was all curvy in red and black colors—slender edges and lines—and they called it monster? It is huge, I thought so maybe that was why.

"That's expensive." I didn't know much, but thanks to dad, I did know that a Ducatti—whatever you called it—cost a pretty penny. "You're parents must really love you. I'm stuck driving this hunk of junk." Phillip stiffened. What had I said now...? "Phillip?"

"What about tomorrow?"

"Excuse me?" suddenly his eyes were lit like the fourth of July and whatever I said or he'd thought about drained.

"Tomorrow is Saturday, no school. You'll have plenty of time to have a balanced breakfast." Huh-uh, I nodded letting him know I was following. "So," he broadened a smirk. "Do you think you'll make it to the Lighthouse? Or will I have to pick you up?"

Yup, say what you wanted about Phillip Leale, but one thing was certain—his level of self esteem broke the charts.

5: Chapter 5
Chapter 5

It was dinner time and I was still trying to wrap my brain around Trigg formulas.

It was only the first week of school and I was already swamped in homework that could last 'till next year. Sitting at my Victorian white desk was the last thing I wanted to be doing—but laying on my bed staring at the ceiling, swooning, wasn't going to help my future. I wanted to swoon, though. I wanted to think about tomorrow… because tomorrow... Tomorrow I was going to meet Phillip at the Lighthouse.

I nibbled my lip at the thought, a short smile showing. I had the strangest feelings brewing in the depths of my stomach, I'd felt them before—over grades, over being the center of attention for the wrong reasons—this, what I was feeling, was nervousness. I had never felt this way for a boy. Was this what other girls my age felt when they were asked out?

I giggled—I'd been asked out.

By the time my mind stopped wondering about what to wear—it was official, I was going all-Barbie-like—my notebook was filled with... numbers. That sounded normal since what I was solving was trigg. But... the numbers didn't fit into this problem and they were all around—scattered. The same numbers all over the page—16 and 9.

I jerked my hand letting the pencil roll out of it. What in the name of—

"Nina!" Henry's voice broke into my room just as the door slammed the wall—he came running like an energetic rabbit.

I had trouble moving my eyes from the hard etched numbers on my notebook, I knew Henry was calling me, there was just something there... something in them like... like they were trying to—my arm was tugged and I snapped to the side seeing a messy head.

"Whatcha looking at?" he bounced lightly on his feet getting near the desk—on pure instinct my hand latched to his arm, spinning him to me. He looked startled but alright.

"Just..." I covered up the weirdness with a shrug. "Just something you won't have to worry about for more seven years." I smiled when he made a face knowing I was talking about school stuff. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking, mister?" I held a finger to his face poking his nose, he giggled.

"Sorry," he mumbled with an adorable childlike voice—he was being cute on purpose. This kid really knew how to get around me. I smiled. "I'm just too excited! You know what I did today, do ya'? Do ya'?"

"Nope, what did you do?"

Henry puffed out his chest, placing his hands on his hips like a tiny version of Super-man.

"I went to the soccer tryouts! The coach said I was really good—I scored twice!" Ah, yes, soccer. Henry's love and passion for the game started only two years ago, but it grew fast when he saw how good he was. "I wish you could have seen it, Dad wasn't there on time either... he's always late to pick me up anyway." He sulked for like two seconds before jumping to my bed. He sat on the edge, swinging his legs. "What about you? Did something cool happen to you?"

Writing things without knowing and fainting in the middle of school didn't make the cut on my list of coolness. I bet it would sound awesome in Henry's little ears, though. Not like I was about to tell him.

"Nothing much, same old boring day." Apart from Phillip asking me out—I cracked an absent smirk. "There was a guy who asked me out."

His green eyes grew into bug-like proportions.

"You're... going out with a guy?" he stuck out his tongue. "Ew, I bet you're going to do what mom and dad do—you know... kissing on the mouth." I blushed one hundred percent certain that wouldn't be the case. "I don't get why people want to do that... it's so gross. And I bet it tastes funny too. I'm never doing that." Oh yeah, he would. There would come a time when Henry would stop thinking kissing was horribly disgusting.

I shook my head, "We're just getting to know each other. I'm making friends with him, that's all." I got up to stretch my legs. "No kissing involved."

"Who's going to kiss who?" mom's head popped from the hallway—really?

"Nina's gonna go on a date with a boy!" Now he was singing the words, what a turn of mood and what a little rat. I wasn't planning on telling mom just yet—I was going to wait. Like, maybe until... never?

Lord knew she'd go—

"Ooh, who is it? Is he cute? How old is he? Is he taking any of your classes—" yep, just as predicted she was going ballistic. She always acted this way when she found out about something. So many questions... I didn't know where to start answering. "What's his name?"

Mom sat perched on my bed—Henry scampered off, giggling like a sneaky Gremlin that had just wrecked havoc.

Turning to her I crossed my arms.

"Doesn't anyone know the word privacy in this house?"

"The door's wide open, honey, I was just passing by and..." she shrugged. "I heard the exciting news." Her eyes held all kinds of sparkles. Geez, it was like I was going to get married tomorrow. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

I didn't know about lucky, after what happened today I seemed to be getting freakier.

"His name's Phillip." I had no where to run from mom, not when she looked like the Cookie Monster—only instead of cookies she fed of gossip.

"Phillip, huh? I kind of like it." She said after a while. "More," of course.

"We have English together. I met him on the first day of school—he's friend's with Dawn." Dawn had been the only person I'd mentioned. No one else had seemed relevant—I thought about telling her about Cameron and what he did to piss me off, hoping I could get a restraining order to keep him at least fifty feet away from me. It was such an immature thing to come up with... at least I'd dropped it.

"Why didn't you tell me about him sooner?" I sunk my shoulders. It didn't really have a reason. "What does he look like?"

"Mom—"

"Nina, it's my job as a mother to make sure you hang out with nice people."

I frowned.

"I don't think you can tell that by the way he looks." That logic was flawed on so many levels it could be a Swiss cheese.

"Humor me, okay?"

I sighed, "Fine," I leaned my head back. "He's super tall, sandy hair—a little rusty-looking—and his eyes..." I closed my own as I said the word. I kept them closed conjuring the image of a pair of sparkling—my whole body stiffened on new levels. What I saw... the image wasn't Phillip's eyes. It was... it was Cameron's. Coal-black, shinning pupils like an intense light at the end of a dark tunnel—what was this?

My mind didn't process why I was thinking of Phillip and seeing his twin brother's gaze because with Cam's eyes came something else. A memory.

"...you're only putting everyone in danger!" Cameron's yell of rage rang though the planes of my mind causing me to cringe. There was more there, in my head, but... but... it was fuzzy especially after... after our gazes locked. Mine and Cam's. That was it—I remembered what happened in the hallway, the last part of it, how I'd fainted. My eyes simply crossed Cameron's obsidian ones and... the magnitude of what traveled between us. I... had no idea what that had been, but it was something, something powerful—it scared me. What did this mean? I almost choked—what did it mean? That I was crazy. What kind of feeling could knock someone out?

There had to have been something more, something else. Didn't it?

There was a throaty sound from across my desk chair. Whoops. My memory had me so spaced out I'd forgotten my mom was there in my room. Her lips in a tight line with worry. Guess the teenage-girl mode had left the building.

"Is everything alright...?" Ah crap, if she was going to start speculating about what I did in my free time, I was going to yell. We'd already moved miles and states away from California, what did she want more?

"It is, why wouldn't it be?" I threw a little harder than intended.

My mom's eyebrows drew close to each other.

"It's nothing, honey." She mumbled. "It's just... you were fine one minute then the other... it was like, like there wasn't anyone home."

I forced down the saliva filling up my mouth. Like there was no one home. Wow. Did that mean that I'd been looking all vacant-eyed? 'Cuz that was what crazy people looked like, catatonic people or whatever. None of those descriptions fell right with me.

"Well," I started summoning a shaky smile—I was pretty sure if I got up now, I would need crutches. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about..." what had I been thinking about exactly? Before the hallway memory hurled into me, what had I been thinking...? I scrunched my face—Phillip. "I was thinking about Phillip. About his eyes. They're... they're stunning." Why had it taken so long for me to push aside thoughts about Cameron—the devil's spawn—and remember Phillip? It was like his gaze, that well of blackness, made me forget.

Forget about all.

"What color are they?" I slipped out of my little world of thoughts, joining my mother in the real world. Her voice seemed to be lighter again, cheery.

"Blue—they're the most startling blue I've ever seen." I was trying to put a happy boost behind my words, I wasn't feeling quite as joyful as before.

"Sounds hot."

"Mom!" I blushed a tenfold. Phillip was hot—spelled H-A-W-T, hot, but... come on? My mom saying that about a kid my age? So not cool. "What would Nigel say if he heard you?"

She laughed. "I'm only kidding, trying to embarrass you—you know, typical mom stuff." That got me breathing a little easier. "When are you going out with him?"

"Tomorrow," I swept a strand away. "We're meeting in the Lighthouse." I didn't need to explain what the Lighthouse was to her. She knew pretty well—everyone did. It was the place pumping with teenagers, it was a meeting point after school and the place to party around here.

"Okay," she nodded filled with approval—then stopped. Face going to the extremes of hen-mother. "Now, the most important thing," I blinked honestly having no clue what she was going to say, I was half-scared she was going to have the sex talk... which would be majorly out of context. "Is he nice?" really, that was it? I thought my mom had been about to unleash... well, something way bigger than that.

"Super-nice," I saw her face slack like she'd been hit with a tranq. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be going anywhere with him."

"Good. Because I don't want you hanging with... bad people, bad companies, you know what I'm saying here?" that I shouldn't tell her about Phillip's twin? He sounded like a bad company.

"Yes, mommy." I mocked, chuckling when her cheeks reddened.

"I'm serious, Nina. Stay away from—"

"I know. I will—promise." I joined my hands going all puppy-eyed on her, she let out a sigh. "Phillip's a good guy, really, mom. I won't get involved in any craziness—not that anything seems to happen around this no-man land." I rolled my eyes with tedium. "I'll be good." Not that I'd ever been bad. Nope.

My mom's darker hair fell from her shoulders when she stood, going for my door. There she turned with a bright smile.

"Alright then," Goodie, she was satisfied. "Come down in five, got it?"

"Yeah, I'm just wrapping up this exercise, be right down." The door closed.

My brain reeled. Now with my mother out of the room I could try and make sense of what happened today. Not just the numbers, but also the fainting. I knew it was no worth thinking about it, though. No matter how I tried there wouldn't be an answer, like there had never been an answer for my dreams...

Sighing, I took a rubber erasing the well-imprinted sixteen's and nine's—the after mark wasn't going away. And as I looked at the Trigg equation I saw I was nowhere close to solving it.

***

I hadn't spoken to Dawn since yesterday. She hadn't called me asking what happened, my guess was someone told her—probably Phillip. I thought about calling her before opening my closet and throwing half of it onto my bed but... I'd remembered the devastated expression from yesterday—when we'd talked about Cam and Vanessa—I didn't want to bother her. She was going through something hard, it would suck if my best friend didn't want to talk to me or get close. It would suck that she confided more in Phillip—who was Cameron's brother, the guy who broke Vanessa's heart when she needed him most. What a tool. I couldn't understand what any girl saw in Cameron Leale—besides the outside, that was. He was rude, rough, and uncaring. Still, Phillip said that wasn't the real him—that was what he showed everyone, what he made people believe. I wasn't going to argue anymore with him on that because it was clearly a sore spot to Phillip, but I didn't really believe him.

I focused on other things other than the twins and their distinct personalities. I was happy today; I'd slept better than most nights. There hadn't been a dream of me running for my live. Yesterday, I'd dreamed of something else, something completely different. There were lots of people, mostly kids my age, a lot of commotion—I'd seen flashes of two colors red and... black? I wasn't sure. I think the people were cheering. It had been dark in my dream, so probably nighttime. I hadn't felt anything; no emotions had made my heart pound. I had, however, felt cold. It had been stinging my skin like little spider bites. I didn't wake up, it faded. I was satisfied with the change, maybe that creepy running through a forest crap wasn't anything, it would never come to pass. God, I sure hoped it didn't. I wasn't ready to go out crashed to death by a pine tree.

A knock came from the other side of my door.

"Yes?" I threw another top onto bed; it had too many flower patterns. Damn, what was I supposed to wear? I just wanted to go with normal clothes—T-shirt, jeans, converses and... I took a minute, walking to the open window stretching out my arm. Maybe take a jacket, the breeze was moist.

Mom was inside my room when I turned back to the closet.

"Did someone break in? Because it looks like your room has been ravaged."

"Not my room," I let out an exasperated sigh. "Only the closet," I stared at my mom with big eyes and spoke slowly, like I was on the verge of insanity. "I have no idea what to wear."

Hearing that made my mother burst into laughter. I wondered if those loud pitches were healthy.

"My girl's finally at that stage." What, the stage where I had to buy a new wardrobe for each date, then not pick anything? I didn't like the sound of that. "Just relax, Nina. It's not dinner or anything fancy—not even the movies. Just go with casual." Casual? Like everyday normal? Well, that had been what I wanted to do... "Put some perfume, use a pretty necklace—and did you paint your nails?" I held up the canary-colored hand nails. "Yellow," she muttered fondly. "Some things never change."

I gave a grin, "Nope." Since I could remember yellow—all kinds of it—had been my favorite color. "Casual..." I looked through the slush piles of clothing. I picked out a T-shirt and jeans, things I would use to school any day with no qualms. Then I got my converses on.

"Do you need money?"

"I still have enough." I clasped my sun necklace—it had a lapis lazuli stone in the middle of a silver sun—my grandmother had given it to me before she passed away. She'd been the only grandparent I'd met, and it wasn't for long. When I was eight she died from lung cancer. So I didn't remember a lot. Only that she'd left me her necklace—and I cherished it very much.

"A little more perfume." My mom pointed out—I forced down a groan. Whenever I hit myself with perfume it always ended up in my mouth. "Perfect."

It was simple, pretty—it was me. I smiled secretly, pleased with everything. If only the car I was going to show up in became a brand new. Too bad I didn't have a fairy godmother like Cinderella and my mom wouldn't surrender me the keys to her Prius, so, I was stuck.

"What hours are you coming back?" she followed me down the second house level.

"No idea." But I wasn't expecting our little meeting to prolong itself into a nightly thing, so not very late.

"Call me when you know, alright?" though she was happy for me going out for the first time ever with a boy, mom was also worried. It was understandable.

"Will do," I waved at her and ruffled Henry's hair as he opened the door for me. "My, my, what a gentleman you're turning into. Keep it up and you'll be making kissy-lips sooner than me."

He made a spitting sound causing me and mom to laugh. Nigel went out for groceries, too bad he was missing this. He'd crack up.

"Never!" he yelled in a definite hiss.

I shook my head. What a little dork, but I loved him.

"Bye guys." Out of the door I tried not to make an evil face at my car, because frankly, it hadn't left me in the middle of the road yet. That was good.

Pulling out of our house, I drove all the way down Madison Avenue. I drove past school—the parking lot was nearly empty. I kept going, hoping to get the directions right. All the streets looked the same. When I got to the town's square I knew I had to be close—a few minutes longer, maybe five. I drove past the church that seemed to go on forever. It was the biggest edifice around, along with the library three blocks away. Lighthouse was stationed between two populated streets. Houses and shops all lined up. When I arrived near a pub-like building I pulled over into its personal parking lot. The outside was made of red bricks, a heavy wooden roof covered all—and at the very top was a candle-like tower, a flickering light came from there, it kept turning around and around. I guess that was they'd named the place Lighthouse. The inside was cozy, warm and welcoming—it felt safe. There were tables on both levels, ones had chairs that you could move, pull, adjust—whatever—others were in booth form. Then across from the entrance was the bar, complete with stools along it—there was a little stage on the second level. And in a more isolated place were pool tables with well-lit lamps above them. The windows were a little scarce making me feel a bit edgy, I liked thinking I wasn't running out of oxygen. The walls on the inside were made of stone making the place look really rural, the music playing was low.

There were people here from school—they had to be, since there wasn't another high school. My eyes wandered about, darting back and forth, to the front where the bar was—all this because I wanted to find Phillip. We should've exchanged numbers, it occurred to me. If I had his number all I would have to do now was call him, ask him if he was here or not. We should have thought this through—I hit someone when I walked to the side still staring around for the familiar shock of rusty hair.

When I saw two black gems staring down at me I felt all inside me tingle. Then I got a hold of myself, pushing down the strange emerging emotion.

"Oh my God," I muttered under my breath. "Are you everywhere?" I ground in a slight cry. Why couldn't I go somewhere and not run into...

"This is my town, Rapunzel." He lifted the corners of his lips shaping them into a flat irritating smirk. "If you don't like running into me there's only one thing for you to do."

Humoring him, I rolled my eyes asking, "And what would that be, oh wise one?" my voice sounded both sweet and notoriously pissed off.

Cameron's smirk diminished, losing some of the charm—don't ask me how an arrogant smirk could hold charm, but it did.

"Move." I was open mouthed at the bluntness in his tone—it was raw, low. I wanted to smack him a good one. I really did, but his bones were so perfectly done and so amazingly hard—diamond-hard—I'd end up hurting my hand way more than him. "After all, I was already here when you arrived." I couldn't tell if he was talking about Haven Hills or the Lighthouse—maybe both.

"Believe me when I say I'd rather be in San Diego." I was ready to walk off from this confrontation; it seemed to lead me nowhere. Only to a bad mood, but then, two things occurred to me. "Have you seen your brother?"

Cam's eyes hardened immediately.

"What do you want with my brother?" Paranoid much?

I tucked a few strands behind an ear; the smell of my own perfume filled my nose.

"We're meeting here." His eyebrow lifted and finally I saw some real, clear emotion cross his face—it was awe. Cameron Leale was in a dumbstruck-awe looking down at me. A sense of fulfillment grew in my chest. "Don't tell me you didn't know?" so I was being a little mean, because Cam took keeping track of Phillip very, very serious. And the fact that he didn't know Phillip was coming here for me? Priceless.

"No, I didn't." Cam turned his head. I took this moment to look around him—there was no one. He was all alone here. How could he be the school's quarterback and not have any friends? Maybe he was a really sucky one. I didn't believe that for one second, though. Cam was all muscles under his clothes, hard, defined muscles. I bet he had those sexy indents on his hips— "The merchandise is good, you can take a picture if you want." My face felt clogged with blood.

I'd been staring down at his hips, but to anyone who saw me... it would look like I'd been staring at something more private.

"I'm used to having girls throw themselves at me, undressing me with their pretty eyes, but you're being a little too obvious. At least try to hide it." The pure look of content plastered on his face made me stumble a step.

"I wasn't... doing anything with my eyes."

"No, you're right. I bet you only need to use that mind of yours." Cam's black eyes came closer, his nose standing in front of mine. "You have a big imagination for someone so... small." He chuckled out the last word silently.

"I don't have a dirty mind." I wanted to grit out the words—but they weren't gritted, they left my mouth in the form of a slow breath. The noise in the background, the people around faded slowly but surely as I gazed straightly into Cam's black on black eyes.

I wondered if humans really had souls, and if we did, could they be stolen? Because Cameron's eyes... they were unlike anything. They were unlike his brother's—Phillip's were blue, vibrant, and undeniably pretty. But these eyes, this gaze... it stole something from me. Was it just from me? And what did it take?

"I never said you did."

"But—"

"No, Rapunzel. I didn't use those words. You dug your own grave on that one." He stood straight, towering with his strong body. "So now I know you were imagining things. Dirty things," Looking down, he winked.

I was getting more frustrated by the minute. What was up with this dude? One minute he was trying to run me out of town, the next he was... well, aggravating me to no end but... in a way that could be considered flirting? I did not understand this boy. His mood swings were too complicated for my head. Speaking of mood swings...

I took a step forward, he regarded me steadily.

"Yesterday in school," I began still unaware of everyone that should be around us, wanting to walk through. "At that hallway... right before I went out like a light... I heard something." Cameron tilted his head.

"I take it that's a good sign. It means you're not deaf."

I kept myself cool, as cool as I could be around Cameron.

"I heard you say Phillip was putting people in danger." His face tried to stay blank, he couldn't keep it up, though and I saw the slight nick of unease. I could ask what that had been all about, I could... I knew he wouldn't answer. So I settled for something regarding me. "But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about. You saw me in the other hallway, our eyes locked when you did. And then I..." I fainted. Why? I think something traveled between you and me. What was it? I have no idea. Am I crazy? More than a little.

Cam kept his posture—he had a perfect standing balance—arms lightly crossed as he pushed back, leaning on the wall.

"Then you what?"

I licked my lips, "I fainted."

He was going to start laughing. He was going to call me a crazy nut job. Heck, we were standing in a public place, even if it felt like no one was around us. It was like we were in a big bubble that made us invisible.

"Because you looked into my eyes?" he said, surprising me with the even tone. He wasn't pointing and laughing. He looked... normal.

"I... I don't know." I fessed up struggling to keep my head from clouding over with feelings that were alien to me. "I don't know." I said again, voice going a tad softer.

I didn't know what I should be more surprised about, the fact that Cameron wasn't running away calling me a freak or the fact that I was having a nice-enough chat with the guy.

Strands of Cameron's fine hair fell to his forehead—he was lowering his head, looking to the ground; hiding his eyes under a curtain of black velvet.

"I don't know what to tell you." I heard him whisper. "I mean," his head lifted fast, the locks of darkness falling away, his lips adapting into a slow grin. "I'm used to getting girls all the time. When they say they fall head over heels for me," he paused, as if letting me know what he was getting at. "I always thought they meant it in a figurative sense." He wasn't laughing on the outside, on the inside, it was different. I would've truly exploded if he hadn't said, "You're here for my little brother? He might be delayed a few minutes. He was dealing with a... situation before I left home. It could get tricky." The amusement no longer filled him, his voice, face or eyes. He was all arrogant and prideful standing in front of me.

I crossed my arms. I should have asked about Phillip next, what was he doing? What was keeping him? I didn't. My timer went off, I exploded.

"You're lucky to have a brother like him. If I was in Phillip's shoes I wouldn't put up with you, I would try and stab you in your sleep. Because you," I pointed a yellow nail at him. His eyebrow cocked. "You are stab-worthy. You're the biggest jerk I've ever met. You're a terrible friend and from what I've heard a horrible boyfriend." I should have stopped there. Enough was enough, especially when my voice grew louder by the second, and something kept stirring deep within, something strong—tiny shocks seemed to jump over my skin. None of this made me stop from saying what I said next. "You're a terrible person and I want you to stay the hell away from me!" My mother had told me to keep away from people who I thought were bad. There. But the moment I finished my raging-rant was the minute everyone, every sound returned.

Our invisibility bubbled popped.

Everyone—with no exceptions—was looking at me. From me to Cameron. It was like time had stopped, no one moved, talked, even the music seemed to have quieted its volume. God, what had I done?

"Nice show." He had the audacity of saying. When my eyes fell on him, I clenched my jaw. Those night sky eyes glowered deeply, shaking with... anger. Was that anger for me? Definitely, who else would he be angry at? "You really did strike me as the good girl type. There goes that theory." He kept lounging against the wall, eyes not on me but on the door—there was a guy who arrived.

He wasn't as tall as the twins, but he had a well conditioned body. His hair was sleeked and brown. I'd seen him around the jock table. He wore a football jacket belonging to our school it was black and red, he was shorter than the—red and black? I froze my eyes solemnly on the jacket. Flashes from what I'd seen in my dream played fast, I heard the cheers and saw a whirlwind of colors. Those two colors. But nothing was clear, I couldn't make out anything else.

My heart rate picked up when he came closer—it wasn't because of him. It was the colors; it was like they would swallow me up if I let them get close enough.

Cam detached from the wall then. Many people were looking at me still, or whispering. I didn't care, not at this second, but later...

"Let's go somewhere else." The brown haired guy perked an eyebrow.

"I just got here, man." He put a hand to Cam's shoulder, his hazel eyes looking beyond him to me. "Plus, aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend?"

The twin smacked the hand away.

"We're not friends." Cameron sounded gruff and I bet he looked it, too.

The jock grinned, "You're not? Even better, I'll introduce myself." He made to walk past the older Leale. "What's your problem?" he ground out.

In a flash Cam had pushed his... huh... were they friends? Well, anyway, he'd pushed his teammate to the side making him stumble helplessly. All I'd seen Cameron do, though, was press the palm of his hand to his chest. Was he really that strong? The other guy wasn't weak looking, not by any standards. So...

Cam stood tall, not shaken by the looks he was getting—again.

"I think you make her nervous. So, leave her alone, Daren." I blinked staring at Cameron's leather-clad back.

Daren let the bulking eyes fall, as well as the tight line of his lips. He smirked and I swear, it was meant to tick Cameron off.

"I thought you weren't friends with her." He stepped forward, arms crossing slowly, gaze fixed on Cam's face.

"She's not, but she's Phillip's." Oh, so now me and Phillip got the friend-label? I thought he was epically against me being near him—both of them.

When Daren's hazel eyes slid to me one final time, I shivered. Cameron could keep him away from me all he wanted—I wouldn't mind. I didn't like to feel like a specimen under a microscope. It felt wrong being stared that way, it was a hungry, devouring gaze—he was picturing me naked. Could this day become anymore embarrassing?

"Phillip always knew how to pick his friends." Daren's voice slurred suggestively, appreciation peeking out. What was that supposed to mean? "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere that's not here." Daren sunk his shoulders looking around, then he mumbled a 'whatever' leaving out the door.

I thought Cameron would go with him right away, saying nothing, sparing me no look—he looked to me over his shoulder.

"What was that about?" why didn't Cameron let that guy get near me?

"Nothing to worry about."

6: Chapter 6
Chapter 6

One hour flew by. I'd been waiting for Phillip for a whole hour now, sitting in a booth all alone while everyone else had company. I really didn't like sitting alone; it made me feel all dark and moody. I'd ordered a cola about fifteen minutes ago—it was almost empty, like my patience. Cameron said Phillip was busy when he'd left their house but... one hour?

My mind took an ugly turn then. What if Phillip was standing me up? What if this had been his plan all along? What if he was toying with me—what if—what if—

"Can I get you anything else?" my eyes lifted from my soda can to Zeke's pale blue eyes.

Could you bring me Phillip?

"No..." maybe the check? I didn't want to do it; I didn't want to leave—but... "I don't think I'll want anything."

Zeke was the typical American guy Dawn introduced me to on the second day. He worked at the Lighthouse part-time. He had a name tag and everything.

His eyes looked to the other side of my booth—it was empty, no one occupied it—he slid into the seat. I frowned.

"Aren't you on the clock?"

"Yeah, but I can get away with a few minutes." He smiled, and it was the kind of smile everyone liked—not too bright, or too big. "You've been here for a long time," he began leaning back. "You're looking sulky and depressed it's starting to scare the customers away." He was messing with me in a lighthearted kind-of-way, like a big brother messing with his sister.

Though, it held some truth, the little corner I was sitting in didn't have many people hanging around.

"I think I did that when I yelled at Cameron." My voice sounded low and murmured—sulky was definitely on my emotion list.

He tipped his head to the side.

"That was... What did he say to you? I know he had to say something, Cameron can be a dick when he wants to." It sounded like he knew him well. "And from what I've heard, you two give off sparks." We did.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Dawn," he answered promptly. "She's been begging me to keep Cameron away from you as much as possible. He's been on your case and all."

"That's nice of her," a simple smile broke through my cloudy mood. "And of you, thanks."

"No problemo. So, wanna tell me what he said? I can knock him on his ass during practice." Right, he was on the football team with Cam.

I shook my head, "I guess he was just being... Cameron." What I'd said to him—or yelled—had been building up for days on end. I just wished I hadn't done it in a public space.

"Trying to steal my date?" the sound of husky velvet met my ears. On cue I lifted my head and eyes.

There he was. The guy I'd been waiting for, for an hour. And he looked 6'2'' of yumminess, as usual. The sleeves of his graphic T-shirt hugged his biceps snugly; I almost twirled when I saw how the rest of it stuck to his body just as much. The beautiful clash of Phillip's rusty hair with his electrical blues had been worth the wait.

Zeke had slid from the seat, grinning softly before they slapped hands and bumped fists. An equal jokester smile was on Phillip's lips.

"Nah, man, I was keeping her company. I thought you knew better than to leave a lady hanging this long." He looked over his shoulder in time to see me blush. "I would've been gone after ten minutes of waiting." They cracked up before Zeke slapped his friend on the shoulder telling Phillip what happened, the short version. Like, 'your bro was here, it got kinda ugly'.

Phillip nodded with hooded eyes, sitting. Yay, what a nice way to kick off a date.

"He was here?" it took me awhile to figure out Phillip wasn't talking to himself—or Zeke, who had left—it was for me.

I toyed with a strand, "Yeah," I so did not want to talk about Cameron. "But you know, it wasn't a big deal. I'm getting used to being his number one public enemy."

Phillip couldn't keep a chuckle at bay. I smiled, almost like the one-hour wait hadn't happened.

"So nothing out of proportions happened? No one got harmed in the middle of your insult exchange?" no one got hurt, but I sure felt embarrassed. Despite that, I shook my head.

"Forget it. I don't want to talk about Cameron."

"Neither do I," a little shy shade of pink crept into my cheeks—the one hour had happened, my brain threw into play. He owed me an explanation.

I tried to start off not sounding too angry, "I was about to leave."

Phillip's expression changed into a guilty one; with a hand he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't blame you for leaving. I… got held hostage, helping my uncle move a few stuff into the basement—old, heavy stuff—I thought about sneaking out a window or the back door." He shook his head dismayed, sighing with such intensity I felt lighter myself. "No, but seriously, I feel really bad about making you wait—I would've called but I don't have your number. I thought about asking Dawn but, you know, a cell number is personal so I thought you might get upset if she gave it to me."

Phillip respect boundaries? I liked him, I did. Not that I would have been mad at Dawn for giving him my cell number, it was just nice and considerate of him to ask.

I dug out my phone unblocking the screen, and slid it over the table.

"It's okay, you could have asked." Phillip surrendered his. We each typed our respective numbers. "There," I handed it back, grabbing mine. "Now you don't have more excuses—you'll have to call me if something comes up next time."

A dimple showed up when a corner peeked up.

"Next time?" he mused leaning forward, watching me.

I pushed out a chuckle.

"Next time something comes up, smartass." I smacked his arm, it didn't wipe the big cat-like grin. "So, I've been sitting here for an hour and all I've had was this soda." I pushed the soda can to him. "I'm starving."

"That won't do, we both know what happens to you when you don't eat." I rolled my eyes. "No offense, I just prefer my date to be awake—not that you look ugly asleep, you look… angelic." My hair fell to my face when kept in a laugh. "That wasn't lame," he said shaking his head, I gave him a 'seriously?' look. "It wasn't lame and do you like lasagna?"

What? I laughed for real, "Yeah, yeah I like it—why? Is it the best thing to eat here?"

"It is to me, meaning you'll love it." Phillip held up a breadstick to me. "In the meantime," he tapped my lips with the edge. "Eat some of these." I took it from his fingers, eyes never leaving his. They were sparkling water.

Phillip leaned back in a lazy ass way—totally cutesy—after delivering our order to Zeke. I nibbled on the breadstick wondering why I hadn't eaten any of them before Phillip popped up—I didn't even see the thin sticks, I had been too wrapped up in… Cameron. And thinking about when Phillip was going to show, of course—I totally hadn't spent the entire time sitting thinking about his twin, nasty brother. Nope. No way.

"Tell me about yourself, Nina Cortez."

"There's not much to tell," I shrugged. Not if I wasn't counting my dreams, and now my sketching obsession of 16 and 9.

Phillip's rusty hair fell over his forehead when he tilted his head.

"I'm sure there is," his gaze fell on my nails. "Yellow looks nice on you,"

"Thanks, it's my favorite color." He smirked like he'd won a battle, shoot.

"Told you," he wagged a brow. "I never met someone who liked yellow." Great, I was even weird when it came to my favorite color— "It's different, I like it."

I frowned.

"What…?"

Phillip's shoulder rested against the brick wall.

"Normal is old and boring, different is better—exiting, I like it. Don't you?"

I hadn't been normal in a long while, I had never thought it was cool being different. People tended to out freaks, I was one of those—or I had been back in San Diego. Here… it wasn't the same. People actually talked to me, they were friendly—Cameron on the sidelines—it was a homey town. And in that minute with Phillip, I nodded.

"I never gave it much thought..." I shrugged. "I guess," I sipped the rest of my soda—doing everything not to choke when a girl materialized beside Phillip kissing his cheek.

His head whirled to the side where the perky looking girl was. Samantha Brighton, I think, she was in my Trigg class. Dawn had said something about her being out fishing for Cameron and Phillip. Yuck.

"I didn't think I'd run into you here—I talked to your brother and he said you were home doing whatever." She talked to Cam? Probably over the phone. The idea of her having Cameron's phone number... messed with my stomach. "Hey, you're the new girl—we have... Trigg?" I nodded not managing a smile. "Lina, right?"

"Nina," my nails dug into my knee.

Her pretty face lit in fake remembrance, she knew my name before. What a hypocrite.

"That's it," her brown eyes dove to Phillip all over. "What are you up to?"

Phillip's blue eyes gave her the light of day for a brief time span.

"I'm on a date." That held a very well implied 'get lost'.

Sam's eyes widened, "With her?" she balked. She sounded more outraged than Cameron ever did. Hat off to her. "She's not really... you're type." If looks could kill she would've dropped in a body bag. "You never really go for the silent, delicate types..." she trailed off glimpsing over her shoulder—her lips in a sneer.

"Can you not make your inferiority complex her problem?" Phillip sounded angry—I wanted to smile at Samantha's bitch slapped face. "Look," he exhaled, calmer. "I don't want to be impolite, 'cuz you're a girl and all, but I'm not interested. I've never been—it's not going to happen." She backed off, eyes a little shiny—I actually felt bad, a teeny part of me did.

"That wasn't what you said last summer." She grabbed the purse off the table strolling away, throwing me a killer glare as her hips swayed madly.

Over the summer? Phillip was looking at me guiltily.

"A fact about me," he began. "I've... gotten around. Meaning I've sle—" My brain was slow, not that slow.

"I know what it means. I'm not dumb." I crossed my arms suddenly misplaced.

"No, I know, I never thought you were—a girl who has the courage to read Allan Poe is very courageous and definitely smart."

"How do you know I'm reading Allan Poe?" my eyebrows shot in curious fashion—Phillip drummed his fingers over the table a faint smile gripping at his kissable lips.

"I've been watching you—not in the creepy way..." there was a not-creepy-watching way? "I've noticed when we're at lunch when you're quiet, reading—you do that sometimes. You know that, though." I could almost feel the palpable nervousness in him—in his voice.

A smile came over me, "I've never looked up." Did that make me incredibly self-centered?

"It must be a really good book." Yeah, dark romanticism was so much interesting than knowing a boy was gazing at you.

"Do you like reading?" that was as a good escape as any.

He made a face, "Not so much," he cracked a grin.

From there we went into a smooth, non-awkward conversation about likes and dislikes—it was nice to know Phillip was into Coldplay, that he liked ice skating, that clowns creeped him out—that was funny—but I felt the unease inside myself. Samantha hadn't left the Lighthouse and halfway through our lasagna I found my eyes wavering from my plate to her.

"Wow," I heard from across.

"What...?"

"Just—wow." I squirmed around in my seat refusing to look to where he was staring—was he checking out a girl? I couldn't shake the words 'I've gotten around' "Look over there," I didn't. Was he trying to make feel bad for not wearing an extra small top or something? "You have to see this—just look to your left." I still didn't—his fingers reached over gently grasping my chin, Phillip smiled before turning my head to the side. "See that girl over there? It's the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

It took me a while, a really long while, but I got it. He wasn't staring at that show off or any other girl in the Lighthouse, he was staring at a mirror, one that was reflecting my image.

I really had to acquire the gift of knowing when I was being watched. He'd seen me stare, he'd seen my insecurity—I hated he'd read that.

A strand was sorted and tucked nicely behind my ear.

"Don't say things like that..." his finger tip brushed over my lip.

Phillip came closer, "I only said the truth. Are you going to tell me you're ugly?"

No, I knew I wasn't ugly, it was just... he was all—he was the type of guy you saw in magazines, the ones you only got when you used Photoshop. So, yeah.

"It's not that," I leaned from his touch. "I'm just not used to this—to this kind of attention. Back home..." I shook my head, until our eyes fell over one another. "I didn't have many friends, I didn't get noticed. Here," I paused. "Somethings different here, maybe it's just that the people are nicer, because it's a small town—whatever it is, I'm in the adjusting faze so all this..." I gestured around. "You," I breathed. "It's all kind of new, a first experience." I bit my lip watching as wild strands fell to his eyes. He was still listening attentively.

"You're saying this is your first time on a date?"

"Wasn't it obvious?" I smiled kind of pitifully.

"Not at all," he pushed his plate away, leaning on his elbows. "Now I feel even worse about being late." I couldn't read what was going on behind the long lashes he and Cameron shared—when those vivid blues opened I blinked several times. "I'm going to make it up to you, though."

***

"We're breaking into school?" I looked at my Toyota one final time. It was parked on the other side of the school fence, near it, Phillip's bike rested, putting my car to total shame.

I still couldn't believe he convinced me to jump over the metal fence. Especially since I was afraid of heights—it wasn't that high, though.

"I don't think you can actually call it breaking an entry if you have the key?" he dangled it in front of me, key chain and all. "I've had it for three years."

"That's a copy? You made a copy of the school's key?" at the disbelief in my tone Phillip rubbed my shoulder with a smile. "How did you even get it?"

"Stole it from the janitor, made the copy, got the real one back—all between lunch hour." I gazed up into those clear water eyes. That was amazing in a bad way, mom would totally disapprove. Why would he want the key for?

"I'm impressive you can say it." He shrugged but the pride in his voice was evident—as was the smirk as he turned the key.

I shook my head when there was a click, followed by a push on my lower back. I would so leave out the details about sneaking into school when reporting to my mom. I shouldn't have come with him, but I had no idea we were going to do this—we left after Phill stated he was making it up to me.

"After you," he whispered tingling my ear lobe. Well, he was a gentleman. Points right there.

I let Phillip guide me down the open hallway, a light flickered overhead. It was strange seeing this place so quiet, like it was a ghost school—I never roamed through empty hallways before, and if I'd done it alone I was sure it would be scary, something out of a suspense flick. But this wasn't.

Phillip's fingers were running down my arm, going from my elbow to my wrist—vice-versa.

My head wasn't some kind of jumbled mess like I expected it to be. I thought it was normal for that to happen when a boy touched me in a sort of intimate way. And to me this was all very new, like I'd told him. It felt pleasant, my insides were walking on sunshine and all that but... there was something amiss, something in the back of my head tried to push through—I shook it off. This was right, it was how it was supposed to be—to feel.

Wasn't it?

"Are we hunting for a ghost or something?" I joked when most things around us were dark, shadows enclosed the environment we were in—it felt all but date material.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" good question. Shouldn't I believe in all that ocult stuff? I was kinda proof it existed.

No need to let Phillip know.

"I've never seen one."

I heard the smile, "That's not a no." No, it wasn't. "I've lived here my whole life, I don't think this school's haunted. At least, I never heard anything." Phillip brushed his thumb over my knuckles glancing down.

I brightened my face.

"You've always lived here?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "My... mom's family had origin in Italy, though—that's where my last name came from."

My face scrunched a little.

"You got your mother's last name?" I quickly said, "Not that's bad or anything, it's just... unusual. People normally get their fathers name." I felt my body stop—Phillip halted gazing into my eyes.

"You're right," I couldn't read his emotions—they were mashed together. "My family is just peculiar." He didn't say anything else. I wanted to ask about it, about his parents—why he only mentioned his uncle. I never heard him say 'my mom' or 'my dad' but I wouldn't ask him bluntly—it felt too personal.

"Better than normal, right?" that brought on a big, softy smile. I cleared my throat, hiding a big stupid laugh. "So," I licked my lips. "Why are we here exactly?"

He lifted our hands propelling me closer—I could almost forget Samantha and her comment when I saw the twinkle in his deep electrical irises—almost.

"We're here for the gym." He spun, throwing an arm over my shoulders. "Football season is almost starting—you'd have to wait a long time before you got the chance to see me play." He left me standing at the wide entrance.

One minute we were in a dark bathed room—in a sea of light the next. There were several mechanic sounds as light flooded the gym, the bleachers, the waxed floor and the tall basketball poles.

A dribble came from my right—an orange ball clacked on the floor over and over, along with heavy footsteps.

"I thought I could put on a little show."

"A private show?" I rocked on the balls of my feet.

A wolfish smirk, rather suited for Cameron's face, showed up.

"Just for you." He dribbled one more time before grabbing the sphere in both hands. "Come here," he took my hand in a soft embrace. "The best spot is on the bench." Our fingers slipped from the hold when I sat down hugging my elbows, a small smile on.

Nothing about this was wrong. I mean, aside from the breaking in part, so why did it feel... like I should be worried? Because yesterday I fainted in this school, I heard something... something bad, "...you're only putting everyone in danger!" there it was. Cameron's yell. What was eating me up was the fact that it was only a loose piece of conversation, any interpretation I made could be faulty. Asking Cam about it would have gotten me zero answers. It didn't mean it didn't bother me, it sure did like an itch I couldn't scratch—the best I could do was ignore it. The fact that Phillip seemed like such an upstanding person helped.

"Did you see that one?" my eyes weren't fast enough to focus and the only thing I saw was the ball falling through the hoop.

"Huh... sorry. I got a little distracted." I shouldn't, I told myself, this was my date, the first one. I shouldn't be thinking of anything else but Phillip. How wonderful he was, how sexy, cute—the list went on. The more I tried to lose myself in him though, the more I thought about the rest—about the strange stuff. Like Vanessa's behavior, how her eyes had lingered on my neck for so long, with something resembling... hunger. Shivers cracked the surface of my skin just as I thought about it. "Can you do it again?" I tried shoving down a ball of worry.

"I can do it as many times as you want." Phillip's eyes shone with energy.

I tilted my head watching him move to the center of the gym, getting ready for another shot. I had to fan my hand in my face—what was up with the sudden heat? I stripped my jacket, I looked around not seeing anything—I didn't know what I expected to find. But heck... it had really gotten hot.

"Paying attention?" he asked mid-racing, mid-dribble.

Nodding I saw his billion dollar smile. It could light up the whole gym and as his fingers curled on the orange ball, I opened my mouth—a second later he dunked it. Like... like the distance between him and the hoop was nothing—and the speed? God, Jesus, either Phill was the embodiment of light speed or I needed glasses, big thick, glasses. I hadn't been able to keep up with his legs, with his arms, not even his hands when he supposedly shoved the ball down the basket.

"You have a hella of a speed..." it left me in a breathless murmur. Phillip landed on his feet—soundlessly. "It's like... like you're supersonic." Really—I even felt a wave of air push against me as he ran—wow.

Looking over his shoulder at me I saw how tensed up—a real life wire, that's what he was.

I wanted to shake it off—I did. Just because I was a freak of nature didn't mean there were others who were, especially ones who could run so fast their movements became a blur. This wasn't the X-men.

"I did athleticism when I was younger. I guess I never lost the touch." His grin was looking kind of forced—maybe because I'd gotten up and took a step back as he advanced to me. "Do you want to get something with sugar? You look kind of wobbly." Was he trying to play it off, using my yesterday's weird fainting accident?

Or maybe I was just being paranoid about all this—yeah, maybe. I wasn't buying it 'till the depths of my heart, but... if Phillip was keeping some sort of secret I couldn't blame him, could I? I wasn't exactly being straight forward with him about dreams and number obsessing.

Plus, I could be imagining things just to make myself feel better. I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"I could eat something sweet." I stayed glued to the spot until he came over. He kicked the ball out of the way. "Are there any ding-dongs' in the school's machine?" I hadn't bought anything in the vending machine yet.

He nodded holding out his hand. I looked at it. I'd been holding it a while ago nothing bad happened. Taking a breather, I locked our fingers. They were warm, his whole hand was hot. Really hot.

On our way to the cafeteria I tried ignoring the obvious awkwardness that had fallen over us. It was weird being silent around Phillip, he was the guy I felt like I could talk to—no matter what.

"You're quiet," he commented. I shrugged. "Is this because I have a killer skills? Normally girls go all speechless—in a good way. You're looking all pale." Was I? Perfect.

I didn't say anything for another ten minutes. That was enough time for us to get snacks and get back to the gym. We were sitting on the bench, Phillip eating cheese-sticks and me ding-dongs. I could his jaw muscles jump every now and then. It was like he was ready to bolt... or pounce. Neither of those made me feel better.

"You never mention your parents." Nice ice-breaker, Nina, congrats. Could I have picked a better topic? If he hadn't brought it up it—

"I don't normally talk about them, no." He stopped munching, all appetite he might have had after that extra large lasagna—he'd eaten almost all of it—gone.

That should have been a sign. The guy was uncomfortable with the subject, flags were waving everywhere. And if I'd looked at his eyes a second earlier I wouldn't have asked:

"Why?"

There was a long pause before he replied or even made eye contact. The lines of Phillip's face were shrouded in pain and sorrow—he couldn't hide it. The vivacity his eyes always carried grew dimmer until it extinguished. Like a blown out candle.

"My parents..." he began looking off into space—then into my eyes, nodding to himself. "The reason why I don't talk about my parents is because I don't have them—" he sucked a breath. "They died." He bit out the word like it was a curse. "They died ten years ago in a fire."

That's when I forgot all about supernatural conspiracy's. Everything fell back into place—seeing the pain swimming in those lively eyes just broke me up. I really liked Phillip. And right now I didn't know what to say, like I didn't know what to tell Dawn to make things about Vanessa better—I didn't know.

What could I say, I'm sorry, I didn't know? Like someone should have told me? I was just the new girl, that didn't make me someone special. I was still just me and this thing—this painful event in Phillip and Cameron's life wasn't gossip. I felt terrible about bringing up the subject. It had just been pushing itself... I gave in.

"I shouldn't have asked, it's none of my business—I'm sorry, I really am." I ranted it out never looking him in the eyes. "I..."

Phillip's fingers radiated warmth, the skin under them prickled. A finger pushed my chin upward. Our eyes entered that interlocked dance of theirs.

"It's alright. You had no way of knowing." I remained quiet. "Besides, I know about your family situation, it's only fair you knew about mine. I'm glad you asked, better you know now than later." Phillip's eyes coursed down—my chest filled with air. What was he thinking...? "Did you like our date?"

"Is it over already?"

"I think we should... call it a day."

"Why?"

"Because..." his face grew closer, and his lips zoomed in. "If we stay much longer I'm going to have to kiss you." I didn't move, my stomach jumped with the sudden revelation—this was way too fast for a slow girl like me. I barely knew this guy— "I want to know you better, you probably want the same. No rush."

Yes, I thought gladly backing away. I'd been so excited for my date, so happy to finally be asked out... but now I wanted to wait for my first kiss? I really didn't understand. And that was what I thought as we left school, jumped over the gate, gave each other a lame-ass hug and drove away.

At home mom jumped me with questions. I made sure to safe guard the info about breaking into private property, and of course, about his parents. It didn't feel right to say anything, not yet anyway.

That night as I crawled under the comforters and closed my eyes, I fell right asleep. The last thing I recalled seeing, though, was a pair of intriguing obsidian eyes—that tingled my whole body.