Invisible to the Unwilling Eye, a Romance story

Chapter 1

It's funny how when you die, you never see it coming, just one moment there's life and color and the next there's the darkness and fear. I had not seen my young death of seventeen when I was thrown back in the car of my older friends from college when we were driving on the freeway with open windows.

Life was good, music was blasting, and all of a sudden, I was thrown forward, and I instantly died when I hit the front window and broke the glass and landed on the concrete like a rag doll. The coroner's report are never as pleasant as they seem in the movies.

I fell into a dark hole with the light streaming next to me, and then I woke up on the front yard of my house. The grass was wet from last night when the sprinklers went off and my clothes were slightly damp. A bug was crawling on my arm and it looked like it had trouble staying on me. I flicked it off me, annoyed and wondered what the hell I was doing on my front yard wet and cold.

As I stood up, and saw my neighbor, Mrs. Deezly, an old widow, and waved. She usually waves to me when I drive to school, but she didn't and her eyes went right over me. "Mrs. Deezly!" I hollered and raced over. "Hey, how are you today?" I asked her, standing in front of her, knowing she could see me.

She looked past me like I was even there, like I didn't simply exist, but I couldn't understand that because I had just died unknowingly and woke up on my front yard. "Mrs. Deezly, you always say it's bad to ignore your neighbors, so why are you doing it to me?" I ask her, my hands on my hips.

I stood right in front of her, and when she walked up, I grinned like I knew she was going to stop and smile then pinch my cheek's in all good fun. But instead she walked right through me and went on her way.

Now, when I say she walked right through me, I literally mean, she walked right through my body as if I was a ghost. I stood there confused at what was going on, when it felt like someone had walked over my soul, examined it mildly and discarded it without a care for who I was.

"Okay." I whisper out loud, "I'm going to try my house, see you in a bit." I race across her yard onto mine and up mine to my door, trying to open it. It was locked. I didn't have to wait long for my brothers and sisters to come running out of the house towards the tree where they wait for their bus. "Hey, Oliver, Matt, Bree, Trixie, what is going on? Please tell me you can see me."

I walked in front of them, and like with Mrs. Deezly, they walked right through me. I clutch my heart because I thought for a second, this must be some sick joke and they'll laugh it off and tell me to run along like the always do. But sadly, that was not the case. I could see my mom yell after them, "Don't forget Aunt Nina is coming by to pick you four up from school to go to the funeral at one!"

They don't reply and she shakes her head and goes back inside. I frown upon her words, if there was a funeral, then who was it? I decided to go inside my home and once and for all get this mess sorted out. I walked up to the door, ready to open it, but instead I smashed my face against it.

"What is going on!?" I ask loudly as I grab my nose with one hand. "Why can't anyone see me!? Why did you do this to me, God?" I ask the sky, but the sun and clouds had no answer for me.

I tried the back door, but that too, was locked. I then just stayed put on the porch and sat there, waiting to see whose funeral it was. Twelve twenty came around when my parents came outside, both wearing black and holding a tissue box.

I followed them into the car, "Whoever died must be really close." I concluded as mom sniffled as dad drove to the funeral home. My family wasn't seriously religious, but they believed in a God. My four younger brother and sisters were still in elementary school, me being the oldest with my older sister by a little less than one year, Annetta.

"Is it Uncle Bob?" I ask my parents, looking outside as we drove. They did not reply and I asked another question. "Maybe Grandpa Sam, he was due for November." Silence, "Must be Grandma Sue, she had lung cancer, remember?" My parents weren't the talking ones today.

"Okkayyy." I stretched out the word painfully. We arrived to the funeral home a few minutes and we got out of the car. They led the way inside and I felt oddly out of place with my purple shirt and white skirt. Everyone was hugging each other and I saw my friends whom I've known for years. "Serena, what's going on? Who died?" I asked my brunette friend but she walked away like she never heard me.

By then, I was seriously afraid on what was going on. My parents shuffled to the coffin and they met my cousins, who hugged them. "Has to be Uncle Bob." I conclude, as the tears were shared. "Everyone loved him and he was the best Uncle." I spotted my other uncle, Uncle Dean, and whispered to him apologetically. "Sorry, Uncle Dean, but it's true."

He moved on without so much as to flinch. I sighed loudly in frustration. "Why can't anyone hear me?" I ask them, but no one answered. I gave a groan and moved to the coffin, still questioning my close cousins who could never keep a straight face when they tried to ignore me. "Guys, who is it? If it's someone I know, just tell me, I'm dying to know-" I glanced at the coffin, freezing in one spot and afraid to even move. "Who was it." I finished, staring at the person.

I was staring at myself.

3: Chapter 2:

Chapter 2:

The cold of the night was turning my breath frosty. I was laying on the rocker chair, trying to make myself comfortable and keep warm. Where I lived, up on the East Coast in Maryland, Boston. Sure, school was going to start soon, but it was still cold in late summer.

I had squeaked the rocker chair plenty of times and parents came out, looking around the porch in interest, but they simply looked over me. I understood what I was now. Since my body was going to be buried tomorrow, I was a ghost. It was as simple as that, I did not exist and I died. But I wasn't white and all ghost-like in the movies, I felt alive to my touch, but when people touch me, as if they could, they couldn't, their bodies move through me like I was invisible.

I could still feel the cold, I could still feel my clothes becoming stiff on me from the odd day I had today. After the funeral, my cousins came over and cried over the pictures of me arranged all over the house. I most definitely knew it wasn't my Grandma Sue who had died.

I stood around my funeral as the pastor talked about the afterlife and how we should we rejoice that I was in heaven and be comforted that I was in a better and all of that crap. My friends, sitting in the back, were crying hard, and I really just wanted to put my arms around them and say, "Hey, I'm okay. I'm not dead, I'm just ghosting." Yeah, that was seriously comforting of the soul.

To put it in my words, I basically attended my own funeral. This wasn't the Adventures of Tom Sawyer where he came strutting down the aisle and everyone cried and was glad that he was alive with his two friends, it was not like this. This was me, watching my mom cry over a daughter and I couldn't do anything to help her. My father, tears silently streaming down his cheeks and I couldn't brush them away. My older sister, who came from her freshman year in college and sat there on the end with my four younger brothers and sisters, holding them each as they cried, her own tears falling down onto little Oliver's brown head.

This was sick. Completely and whole-heartedly sick. Sick to the bone. Whoever's idea of this is being dead, this just sucked all the way. I would rather be in heaven and float around on a cloud with Angel Gabriel playing a harp than stand here and watch my family and friends cry over my death. Hell, I would rather be in hell than have to live through this hell-hole called death.

"We have arrived here today to the death of Ms. Abigail Jane Wright." My ears perked up at the sound of my full name. "She was seventeen, too young to be taken away from us, but we are comforted that she is safe in heaven with our Lord above." The pastor went on, and as I stood there, hearing the muffled sounds of crying and sobbing, I couldn't stand it anymore. I ran out of there, back to the parking lot and the cold afternoon of Boston in late August. My legs took me back home, even though in the car it was a thirty minute car ride, I ran the entire thing. I wasn't much of an athlete, but I managed to get there without stopping and hid in a bush, which was ironic because I was invisible to everyone.

I stayed there, crying and calling out to God for me to just die and go to either heaven or hell, because the other two were better than this. I was still crying when my parents came home around five, and it was already dark. They walked past, holding onto each other and muttering comforting words to each other.

My older sister, Annetta, talked with my mom on the porch later in the evening when my brothers and sisters were tucked in for bed. "What do we do now, mom?" Annetta asked mom in a thick voice.

I could just barely see the outline of my mom, as she shivered from the cold. "I don't know. Move on, she would've wanted that. This crying, she would've been upset over it and she hated funerals and…and…" Mom couldn't summon the word to finish herself and burst into tears once more. Annetta hugged her and they both cried some more, while I shut my eyes and plugged my ears so I won't hear the grief over me.

They stopped crying, dried their faces, put brave faces for my father and went inside. I fell asleep to the cold air and woke up to it again. Twelve o five, on Saturday of the month of August in the year 2013, Abigail Jane Wright was buried in the ground. I stood to the side and was amazed at how many people came to my funeral. Lots of high schoolers from my high school, many I barely knew, and all of my distant cousins from all around the world and my close family members and my close friends. Teachers from the third grade came to give comfort to my parents and even an old friend that moved to Italy from seven years ago came to say goodbye to me.

"Taren." I whisper and move the crowd, trying to not touch anybody, but remembered that was clearly unimportant and reached her. Her dark hair was curled perfectly and her long lashes fluttered to keep the tears in. Her olive skin color indicated that she italian, and I was glad to see her, even in this odd way of not being alive nor dead.

Taren walked right past me, nearly my height, five six, and hugged my mom, who looked surprised to see her. I left the group of mourners back to my parents car. On the way, I bumped into a guy, but I never noticed it because he looked after me in surprise but shook his head.

The one thing I remembered about him was his ears and how they stuck out on him. Even more than his soccer shirt, even more than the dirty, grassy cleats on his feet or that he was holding a soccer ball like he just finished a game.

4: Chapter 3:

Chapter 3:

Damian woke up to his younger brother smashing his naked butt on his face. "Jonathan Ben Gold! Get your ass off my face!"

Jonathan crackled like a witch and bounced to his feet, jumping around Damian who was trying to sleep. "No!" He kept jumping and landed on Damian on his side.

"Jonathan, I'm going to kill you! Get off me!" Damian shouted to him and shoved his younger brother off himself.

Jonathan giggled and raced out of Damian's room, "We have to go to school! Don't forget!" He reminded his older brother.

Damian groaned and rolled onto his stomach, his other and older brother, Brett, came in smirking shirtless and brushing his teeth, leaving after gloating. Damian got up and ran a hand through his hair, thick and brown. He went to the bathroom, combing his hair and brushed his teeth, washing his face, and changed out of his boxers into some jeans and a blue soccer shirt.

He grabbed his backpack, ran down the stairs, taking a bagel from the bag and kissed his mom on the cheek goodbye. He took his car keys from the key hook over the calendar and went to his car, taking his younger brother to school. "Don't forget the seat belt, Jon." He reminded his brother as he put his own on.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jonathan said with a roll of his eyes, fully clothed now.

Damian narrowed his eyes at him but started the car and drove him to school. When they came to Jonathan's elementary school, and Damian pulled in the curb, Jonathan shot out of the car at top speed. "Bye, thanks!" He shouted with a wave and ran to his classroom.

Damian shook his head in wonder and checked his watch, driving to his high school. He was a senior, and made good time despite the traffic. As he parked his car in an empty spot and walked to school, his friend bounced from behind him.

"And down the field comes Boston's very own, Damian John Gold, and he has the ball. He's keeping it away from Argentina's very best, Alejandro Marquez, and he's there, he's kicking, and he made the goal! He made the goal for the World Cup. USA wins!" Scott Davis whispered yelled behind Damian.

Damian laughed, "Thanks man, means a lot to me." They did their handshake. They were friends since the second grade, and were inseparable since then.

"No problem, man. Hey, we have an assembly before lunch about that chick that died, what's her name?" Scott asked him, trying to remember the girl who died.

"I don't remember." Damian said with a shrug, as they walked towards their first class.

"Ms. Abigail Jane Wright." Richard said from their right.

"Hey, man! How was your weekend?" Scott leaped on his friend, rubbing the top of his head affectionately.

"Good." Richard blushed red, trying to duck his head.

"How's Ingrid?" Damian asked, knowing that his friend was dating her for months now.

"Pretty well."

"Cannot believe that your parents let both of you go to your cabin in the woods." Scott said incredulously, shaking his head in wonder.

"Me neither, it was a blast, really was." Richard insisted.

Damian grinned slyly, "We believe you, man. We're sure it was a blast." He teased his friend.

"No, not like that!"

But the other two were laughing. Richard laughed with them, "I swear it's not like that."

"Isn't that what they all say, eh, Dam?" Scott asked Damian curiously, trying to put his friend on the spot.

Damian went along, "Yeah, I think so…"

Richard shook his head in annoyance, "Man, you two."

They laughed, "We're just joking, man." Scott assured him.

The bell rang for class and Damian groaned, "Ugh, math. First class of the day."

"You're lucky, at least you can get over with it. I have it eighth period." Richard said with a shake of his head and they each went on their way. "See you at the assembly. I'll save you guys seats for us all." Richard called out and stepped into his class.

}l{

Damian walked into the big gym for the assembly, searching the crowd for Richard and his friends. He spotted Richard holding his girlfriend, Ingrid, and Scott who waved to him. He moved through the crowd, making his way on the bottom row of the bleachers and sat next to Scott and Nyke, another friend of his.

Colton and Dante joined the guys, and they watched the gym fill up with hungry high schoolers. There was a picture of the girl who died, Abigail, and the principle walked to the podium on the front of the gym. "Hello, high schoolers of Whitenam High School."

Cheers erupted the gym, which was ironic because it was an assembly about a girl who died, not the high school as a whole. "Yes, yes, well, as we all know, a friend was taken from us." The cheers died almost as quickly as they started. "A friend who tried well in school and was talented in many departments of our school. Art, drama, and music. She was only seventeen and was driving home from a college party. Her friends in the car were all college students and they windows were open. No one drank alcohol and no one was wearing their seat belts." It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop in the gym. "A white van pulled suddenly in front of their car, and when the driver slammed on the brakes, Abigail was thrown forward, hitting the glass in front and broke it, landing on the freeway dead like a rag doll."

No one spoke and a few girls who knew her well, were crying. "Today, I did not come up here giving the coroners report on how she died, instead, I simply wanted us to remember her. She died to a large family and many people who loved her." The principle spoke bravery and aplomb, "We just need to remember her care and how she tried to make a good life here on this world. And I'm asking as a whole student body, try to be like her, for at least one week, care for each other. Don't pick fights, don't be rude to each other as you high schoolers like to do, be kind to each other as she did."

"Poor family." Ingrid muttered as she sat next Richard. He nuzzled her neck in comfort.

The principled smiled and everyone clapped as a friend of hers came up. We were sitting well in the front and had a good view of everything, so Damian found it weird when he saw a blonde standing next to her. "I'm Serena." The brunette, the friend of Abigail whispered in the microphone. "Abigail was my friend for the longest time, and she meant a lot to me. She was always there for me." Serena went on with her story on how they met and how Abigail was when she was.

The blonde standing next to her was crying silently and he could actually make out what she was saying. "Serena, I'm right here. I'm standing right next to you, why are you telling them our story when I'm standing right next to you and I can see you!" The blonde looked around the gym, looking for people to call on.

Damian did a double take, no one else was paying attention to the blonde girl, and they were watching Serena cry and sob on the podium. A friend race up and hug her and help her finish. The blonde's eyes skimmed over him but came back when she saw that he could see her. "You! Soccer dude! You can see me!" She shouted, pointing to him excitedly.

Damian glanced around himself to see if anyone else was seeing what he was seeing, but they were all too busy crying with Serena. He tried to ignore the blonde, but when he saw the picture of Abigail and saw the blonde pointing at him and try to get his attention, he saw she was the same person.

Impossible, he knew he was seeing things. But she thought otherwise. "Oh my God! You can actually see me! Wait, just blink four times really fast to tell me you can see me." Abigail told him.

Damian ignored her and Serena was done, being led away from the podium crying hard. The principle came back on the podium and dismissed them. "That was sucky." Dante muttered underneath his breath as we stood up.

"Yeah," Nyke agreed with him.

"Wait! Soccer dude! Wait for me!" Abigail commanded me and I freaked out.

"Can anyone else hear that?" Damian asked, wanting to make sure this wasn't some sick joke and his friends can hear Abigail and see her too.

"What?" Scott asked quizzically.

Damian glanced at Abigail who was making her way through the crowd to him, "Nothing." He denied quickly. "I'm going to get my backpack, see you guys in a bit." He pushed through the crowd, trying to get away, but she reached him.

"Hey, you can see me so stop pretending like I don't exist." She informed him with her hands on her hips, trying to get eye level to him, but found it difficult because he was so much taller than her. "Soccer dude, talk to me!"

"Excuse me." Damian excused himself as he pushed past a couple making out in front of the door and raced up the stairs to the classes above the amphitheater.

"Soccer brah, can you at least acknowledge that here?" She asked him as he speed walked to his class.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked her when he opened the door and checked to make sure no one else was in the class and sighed in relief when he found it empty. "Get in." He commanded her. She raised an eyebrow and walked past him, as he closed the door behind her. She sat on a desk, swinging her long legs as he grabbed his backpack. "Listen, I'm sorry to say this, you're dead. And I don't know why I can see you, maybe it's a freak of nature or something." Damian apologized to Abigail.

She pulled on a piece of her hair. "I know I'm dead." She told him.

"What?" He asked her confusedly, about to leave the classroom.

"I said that I knew I was dead. I attended my own funeral and you were there." She said, her eyes so blue they hurt to look at.

Damian couldn't deny that, "I was."

"And I bumped into you. Like I could touch you."

"So?"

"So, I can touch you. But I can't touch anyone else. I'm like a ghost to my family but to you, I'm still flesh." She rose her chin up in defiance.

Damian paused, "I'm sorry." He whispered softly.

"For what?" She asked with snark.

"For all of this." He said, and shifted the backpack on his shoulder.

She sighed, "It's not easy."

"I'm sure it isn't." Damian assured her. The door opened and he leaped back in fright. A couple of students pushed past him with curious looks and he glanced at her and winked to the door for her to follow him. She grinned and went after him.

She sat there at lunch next to Damian as he ate with his friends. She watched with mixed curiosity as he talked. She went to his soccer practice and sat on the sidelines alone. She drove with him home because her family no longer was important now she can actually talk to someone when they can talk back to her.

Damian brushed his teeth and as he lay in his bed in a shirt and boxers, she was sitting in his desk chair and swiveled around in it. "What do I call you, Soccer Dude?" She asked him in the dark of his room.

"Damian John Gold." He whispered to her.

She sat on it and after some time when Damian thought she fell asleep she finally said, "I like Soccer Dude better."

5: Chapter 4:

Chapter 4:

I, Abigail Jane Wright, woke up in a desk chair to a very hot soccer dude.

He was snoring softly as I studied him. He had longish brown hair that seemingly looked natural enough to be called a fohawk. Underneath his eyelids, were eyes that looked those of a child, big and brown. He had a long nose and strong jaw. He was tall, easily six three. Long legs, muscular, probably from soccer and well built arms. Long, lean, he was kinda hot.

I shook that thought off, no way was he gonna like a ghost like me, but I still couldn't help but fantasize a bit. Terrific, the one person who can actually see me, and he's hot.

Damian John Gold rolled from his back to his stomach, and I could see the muscles under his tight shirt flex and relax. His stomach looked hard, not like he had abs, but like he wasn't fat. I had to press my hands together because I knew how hot guys could turn me on if I wasn't careful. Odds are, I'm gonna end up falling in love with this dude.

His alarm went off, some Macklemore tone I recognized from school dances and he looked up at me sheepishly. "You're awake." He mumbled to me, rubbing his face to wake up and got up, stretching his back and glanced at me. "I almost thought yesterday was a dream." He admitted sweetly.

I sighed sadly, "I wish it was."

"Dam? Who are you talking to?" An older guy asked him, shirtless, probably an older brother in college.

Damian looked at me, but shrugged and went back to him brother. "Huh?" He asked him innocently, trying to deny that he was ever talking to me.

His eyebrows went up, and I could see the individual ab muscle on his bare stomach. Okay, give Damian's parent a round of applause, they had beautiful sons. "Were you talking to somebody?"

"Scott. He just called."

"Your phone is on the desk." His older brother pointed to his desk.

Damian was five feet away from his desk. "Yeah, he called and then I hung up and walked over here."

His brother gave him an estranged look and left, giving him puzzled looks as he left.

Damian glanced at me once more and winked, "It's all good." He mouthed as he went to get ready for school.

I watched him leave with a smirk.

This boy was in for a ride.

}l{

"Do you think if I ran naked people would see me?" I asked him as we walked to his next class.

He tried not to hear my ridiculous question. And I kept pondering over that. "That's ridiculous." He muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Is it, though? I mean, it could work!" I say with a goofy smile.

"Do you want people to see you naked?"

"I want people to see me, period, Soccer Damian. I want to be seen and this life, it's just sad. I want to be noticed." I tell him as we near his classroom. He shakes his head, and I grin evilly. "I'm going to try it." I announce and he looks at me incredulously.

One of his friends probably thought he was looking at him, because he ran over and asked, "What, man?"

Damian shook his head, "Nothing, man."

"Ooh, is this Scott?" I ask excitedly, and peered into his face. He was about a couple inches taller than me, maybe four or five. "Hello, cutie pie!" I greet him.

Damian nearly rolled his eyes at me, and Scott looked at him questionably. "Are you sure you are okay, brah?"

"Fine, just peachy." Damian assures him with a wave and starts walking away.

"Damian! Watch this!" I shout to him.

He turns around and I strip myself of my clothes. I race away, laughing in glee, my white butt mooning people who can't see it. Damian walks into class in a daze.

}l{

I bounce on the table where Damian was eating his lunch with his friends. "Why'd you leave me, Soccer Damian? I was having fun, and you are my only source of a social life in this strange circle of no death and not being alive." Damian ignored me, and I sighed loudly. "Fine, pretend you don't hear me." I turned to Scott, sitting next to him. "So, Scotty from Scotland with a Scottish accent," He didn't have a Scottish accent and I dare not think he's from Scotland, he looks American as they get. "How's life?"

The guy responded by throwing a french fry through me. I gasped, clutching me heart where it sailed through as if I was water. My eyes locked with Damian, and I knew he saw the whole thing. "Dam?" Nyke asked him as he bumped his friend on the side. Damian looked at him sheepishly, "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine man." Damian assures him by finishing the sandwich he was holding, but it looked like he was trying to shove it down his throat to convince his friends. His friends gave each other questioning looks among themselves.

Our school had kids who played music during lunch, and one of the songs that suddenly blared on the speakers was my favorite.

She sees them walking in a straight line,
That's not really her style
And they all got the same heartbeat
But hers is falling behind.
Nothing in this world could
Ever bring them down
Yeah, they're invincible, and she's just in the background
And she says

"I wish that I could be like the cool kids!" I shout before she said that part. I stand up and start dancing, shouting the song on top of my lungs. I was unaware that I was knocking things off the table.

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

He sees them talking with a big smile
But they haven't got a clue
Yeah, they're living the good life
Can't see what he is going through
They're driving fast cars
But they don't know where they're going
In the fast lane, living life without knowing
And he says

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids they seem to get it
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

And they said
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to get it
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

"What happened?" Scott asked, looking at the destruction of my dancing and singing on top of the table with wide eyes. "A hurricane must've came through. Guys, I think it's one of those freak storms, except it was a small one and right here."

"On top of our table?" Richard asked him incredulously, as if his theory was crazy.

"Yes, they are freaks of natures, little cells that suddenly gain energy and act on impulses! How cool is that?" Scott asked them, Dante shook his head and reached over to retrieve his soda that I accidentally spilt over. "No, lemme take a picture of this and send it to the guys at the station." Scott flipped out his phone and took a couple of pictures and then nodded. "Alright, you guys are good to go."

They all rolled his eyes and cleaned up the mess I created. As Damian picked up a plastic bag that fell on the floor, I caught a hint of a smile on his face.

}l{

"What's Scott deal on freak storms and stations?" I ask Damian as we drive alone in his car. I lounged on his backseats, my feet way up on the neck rest, and my head dangling from the seats.

"He wants to go into weather someday, like study freak storms and the mysterious occurrences that happen on Earth." Damian explained as he changed lanes, turning right onto his street.

"I can see him doing that." I say with a smile. Scott Davis, him and his poofy black hair teased with jel and his gorgeous blue eyes and small appearance but sweet smile. He was sorta elfish, but a tall elf and sweet about it.

"We all can, that's the thing." Damian said and drove onto his driveway. "We tell him he needs get his head out of the clouds and get into reality." He opens the door and I wait patiently as he opens the back door to retrieve his soccer bag.

"Why do you say that? If he wants to do that, he should." I tell him sorta annoyed.

"Yeah, I know. But..." He looks at me, "Think about it, it's nearly unrealistic. He needs to find a job that's stable and won't have him getting killed for dying of a freak cell in the middle of the ocean."

"If that's what he wants to go into, tell him I approve. He should follow want he wants to do, not what you guys always tell him what to do." I chastise him.

He looks at me long, "You don't know what it's like for him. He needs a stable job, his parents are drunks and alcoholics, barely making it by and he needs a job that'll help him to help them. Maybe medicine." He says as he opens the door.

I sigh, "No point in arguing with you, is there, Soccer Damian?" I ask him and follow him upstairs.

He takes off his shirt, and shakes his head. "Nope." He whispers and goes to take a shower. I look around his room, flipping through boring soccer magazines and see a notebook that catches my eye. I flip through but it's mostly young boy stuff, pictures of Pokemon and ranting to become the best soccer player in the world. Something I expect from a hard core soccer player like Damian.

I never noticed him walk back in, a towel wrapped around his waist, his body slightly steaming. "What're you doing?" He asks me, sliding a shirt on.

"Nothing." I deny, and hide the small notebook in my pocket of my jacket that I was wearing. He looks hard at me and leaves, taking his other clothes back to bathroom to finish changing. "Nothing at all, Soccer Damian." I promise him and lay down on his bed, in the far corner, not caring if he thought strangely of me for sleeping on his bed.

6: Chapter 5:

Chapter 5:

Damian saw Abigail asleep on his bed. He didn't have the heart to kick her off, so he left her there where she was. He didn't have any homework, so he just went to sleep. She was probably asleep for only a couple of minutes, but he found her body heat warming him under the blanket they shared.

He fell asleep within minutes from her body heat radiating to his.

}l{

He woke up to Abigail right next to him. Last night, she was over eight inches away, and now, she was less than two from him. Her breath came in short puffs, no doubt from how much heat they were sharing, and her face was clear from the pain he saw yesterday when the french fry flew through her chest. He couldn't imagine what she was going.

Invisible to the unwilling eyes, it seemed. No one was willing to see her. They were perfectly happy to look over her as if she was invisible. It was hard to imagine if he couldn't see her. Within two days, Abigail Jane Wright became a part of his life like no one ever had. In two days, she trusted him enough not to try and sleep with her, or use her in any profane way. She trusted him enough that that was all they were built upon. Trust.

Trust alone brought them together.

When Damian winked to her for her to follow him, he was trusting himself that he was doing the right thing to not leave her alone, and she trusted him enough that he would be there for her since no one else can. And here they were, sleeping next to each other because they trusted each other.

"Abi?" He whispered into her blonde hair, still in a ponytail, but threatening to fall out.

She groaned and rolled onto her stomach, away from him. "Leave me alone to sleep." She told him.

"Abi. C'mon, we have school." He told her sweetly.

"Correction, Soccer Damian, you have school." She told him sternly.

Damian shrugged, "I'm sorry, between the lines of reality and seeing dead girl, I forgot you didn't go to school."

She gave him a sour look, "Well, since you asked so nicely."

"Oh, right. Where are my manners? Please come to school with me so I don't have to listen and smell to Jonathan fart his ABC's in the car." Damian said sarcastically.

Abigail laughed, a clear rich sound full of life and happiness. "Alright, I'm getting up." She informed him, pushing him off the bed roughly and stepped over him, and sat down on the desk chair, looking at him expectantly. "Get ready for school, I'm already ready."

He gave her a sour look from the floor, making her laugh again.

}l{

Abigail sat on top of the table, at lunch with Damian and his friends once more, when a whistle came up from their side. They all turned to find the source of the whistle, and saw Miss Diana Crouse. She was grinning slyly at Damian, and doing her famous cat walk. Nyke swooned and Dante grabbed his heart.

"That goddess." Scott approved with a smile.

"She's mine." Dante growled at the other guys.

"By all means, I already have a girl." Richard commented and Ingrid giggled as he kissed the top of her nose.

"Damian, when is your next game?" Diana asked she walked to them, and was lightly holding his arm. She puffed her chest, so her breasts were more incising.

"Uhh..." He said, his eyes bulging out at her chest. He glanced at his friends and back to her with a confused face. "Friday night, at Del Calpo. Six." He swallowed hard, trying to breathe. He had a crush on Diana Crouse for many years, way back in the eighth grade.

She smiled, "I'll be there, Gold, cheering for you on the sidelines." She brought her eye level down, down into the poor boy's soul. "I'm your number one, after all." She pecked his cheek and walked away smiling wide. Her butt wiggled as she walked and the boys watched her walk away with goofy expressions.

"Damn, Dam." Scott said with a jaw dropped.

"She wants you." Dante added.

"Hard core." Nyke whisper screamed and all of the boys laughed and hooted in approval.

Ingrid rolled her eyes, "Why do I have to be the only girl here?" She asked herself.

"I hear you, girl." Abigail muttered in distaste, she was scowling at the boys who talked in excitement about the upcoming soccer game like the world counted on it.

Damian glanced at her and remembered about Abigail, and he suddenly felt bad, but shook that thought out of his head. Why should he care if he felt bad for Abigail? She wasn't Diana, who he liked for years, she was just Abigail, and she hardly knew him, likewise with him. But still, the way her body radiated the heat off herself, he could feel something...something he thought he would feel. He shook his head, why was Abigail getting in his head when Diana was what mattered at the moment?

"Guys, he should take off his shirt in front of her!" Scott shouted to them, as they argued.

"Yeah." They all agreed and Abigail scowled at them, catching Damian's attention once more. But he pushed her out of his head once more and went back to Diana.

}l{

Abigail stormed to his house, from the car that he had drove to his house. "What's wrong with you?" He asked her as she waited patiently for him to open the door for them both.

"Nothing." She spat and stomped upstairs, ignoring his points to get her attention. She crawled into his bed, much farther into the corner, and put a pillow over her head to shut out his voice for worry.

But not like he cared about Abigail. He was too busy in love with Diana.

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