Teenagers

Teenagers An Alaska Teen Novel Samantha Steele © 2011 by Samantha Steele

Edited by Melodye Mericle

© 2011 by Samantha Steele This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real persons, places, or events are used fictitiously. Other names, places, events, and characters are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is entirely coincidental. This book may not be reproduced in any form without permission of the author. Published in the United States of America. Summary: This first novel in the Alaska Teen series describes the events leading to the accident that gave Sam the ability to see ghosts, pause time, and read minds. ISBN: 1453730494 EAN 13: 9781453730492

For Zac. Thank you for not liking me. For Jacob. I'm glad you were a psycho. For Annika. I miss you. For Cami and Kristina. I'm glad you make me do crazy things. For Taylor. I'm sorry I'm an annoying nutcase. For Mom and Dad. Thanks for encouraging me. For my brother Joel. Thank you for setting up my website! I wouldn‟t trust anyone else with that. For my brother Terry. Thanks for letting me borrow your girlfriend's editing skills.

Samantha Steele

Prologue Three Years After the Incident "Relax your mind," Gaute said, his hand on the bare skin of my arm in case I succeeded this time. "I want you to slow time, but don't stop it. We can't rewind if you stop it." He and I were sitting on the floor in one of the training rooms at the Palace. One of the demigods had plugged in a TV across from me and muted the sound. The action movie that flickered on the screen was our only indication of time. I was sitting on the floor, lotus style, and Gaute was next to me, softly giving me instructions. My eyes were closed and my breathing was measured. The Gods had enrolled me in yoga and Pilates classes to improve my mental strength, and the belly-breathing helped me focus on manipulating time. "How do I do this without touching my temples?" I whispered. "That's what the muscles in your scalp are for," Gaute answered. "All humans were formed in the shadow of your ability. Why else would they be able to move their scalps?" I laughed and even though I couldn't see, I felt my teacher smile. "Pull at the muscles around the buttons. If you concentrate hard enough, you'll push them halfway in." I took another deep breath and began to twitch the muscles covering my temples (which is a lot harder than it sounds). At first, nothing happened. But then the TV flickers began to slow, and when I opened my eyes, the thugs were fighting in slow motion. "Excellent!" Gaute cried with a huge grin, taking his hand off of my arm to hug my shoulders. "Now, concentrate on reversing the actions going on around you. But don't focus on me, of course, because I was touching you. I won't change, remember that." "I know you won't," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. ~1~

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"Hey, this is important stuff! If you focus on someone who's with you, you could get stuck in time. Not to mention the fact you almost always forget that touching someone's skin while you're pausing will wake them up." "I did it twice!" I defended. "No, you did forty times," Gaute chided. "We just didn't bother erasing Joel and Gage's memories. Or Taylor's. Or Mitch's. Or any of the demigods'." "I still can't believe you erased Cami's memory," I said, crossing my arms. "She wouldn't have told. In fact, Taylor's lips are a lot looser than Cami's." "Cami had been corrupted. We couldn't risk it." "Zac was corrupted," I snapped. "No one tried to get rid of him, did they?" "Oh, hell, Sam. You know we couldn't get rid of him. Only the Sign can fight the Seeker. And he wasn't corrupted; he was the corruption." "It's not fair," I sighed, laying down on the exercise mat. "I don't want to kill him." "You have to. Neither of you can survive at the same time. The Seeker only exists to kill the Sign." "But why does it have to be him? I mean, he did save my life that one time." "Only because he wanted to kill you himself," Gaute said, clearly annoyed at having to remind me all the time. "He didn't know what he was back then," I countered. "He thought that he loved me. It's not his fault the line between hate and love is so narrow." "Sam, why are you defending him? He's the Seeker! His sole purpose in this lifetime, or any other for that matter, is to end your life. Why can't you understand that? He is underworld spawn, hell-bent on destroying the Palace. And the only way he can do that is by ending the existence of the Signs." "Never mind." I sat up and began to focus on the TV, showing Gaute I was finished discussing the topic. He sighed and opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped.

~2~

Samantha Steele

"It's harder than it looks," he said after a few minutes. I hadn't gotten time to reverse yet. "You always did take longer to learn it." "Longer than who?" I snapped. "Longer than Scorpio? Longer than the twins?" "Yes." "Scorpio sleeps with its teacher," I sneered. "And you can't base my actions on the twins. They get to help each other. No one fights like I do. Have I not saved the Palace every single time I've been in cycle?" Gaute rolled his eyes. "I'm not insulting you," he said. "I'm trying to make you feel better. Rewinding time is the hardest ability a Sign can learn. It's not your fault you struggle; warrior signs have more difficulty with it." I glared and felt jealousy surge in my stomach. The TV suddenly jumped into rapid rewind. "But your emotions always help," Gaute said with a smile. "Tell me, Sagittarius," Zeus began, his voice rumbling across the table like thunder. I was having dinner with the Palace Nobles. Ghosts were only permitted to enter the Nobles' dining room if they had messages for their masters, so I was alone. "Have you mastered time reversal yet?" "I don't think I've mastered it quite yet," I answered, "but I feel more confident about it." The Greeks were the only Nobles who seemed interested in my situation; occasionally the Pagans would listen in, but Jesus and his cohorts were snubbing me completely. "Well, you can't freeze the Seeker, so don't worry about it too much," Artemis consoled. As the protector of young maidens and the goddess of the moon, she was my favorite goddess (Hecate held that against me, as she was the Pagan goddess of the dark moon). "Ares!" came a sudden cry from the doorway. One of Gaute's friends, and Ares's ghost, was leaning over and panting as if he'd just run across the entire Palace. ~3~

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"What is it, Ragnar?" Ares demanded. He stood up from the table, ready to leap into action. Jesus rolled his eyes; he disapproved of Ares's godship (war) which, now that I think about it, explains why Jesus disliked me. As a warrior sign, I was under the general rule of the war gods. "There is movement," Ragnar said between gasps of breath. "Someone has entered the Palace grounds without permission of a Noble. We must hide the Sign. It may be the Seeker." "He wouldn't make a move so soon," I said, bewildered. I couldn‟t recall when I had gotten to the palace, but I was certain it had been just after receiving my powers. The Law stated that Signs and demigods had a two-year grace period to master their powers before they were open for attack. Both the Nobles and the Corruptions followed the Law; it had been written by the pagan God and Goddess when time began. The God and Goddess were the only neutral players. They stayed out of our affairs most of the time, but occasionally they would interfere if they felt like the Law was not being followed. So if the Seeker was after me now, surely the God and Goddess would interfere? I'd only been at the Palace for a year. When I brought up this point, every Noble in the room shuffled uncomfortably, including Jesus. "Sagittarius, do you remember coming into your powers?" Athena asked curiously. "We don't have time to discuss this!" Ares cried. "Where is her ghost?" "Here!" Gaute suddenly popped into existence right next to me. "Take her to the training room," Ares ordered. "She must regress." "But… Sir… She's not ready for regression. We've only just begun to recover her memories," Gaute said tentatively. "She may forget everything if we try now." "She must remember," Athena said. "Only she knows the Seeker's weakness, and if she can't remember…" "I know," Gaute interrupted gravely. "Come with me," he added, taking my arm. ~4~

Samantha Steele

Before I could take a deep breath and prepare myself, the floor was whipped out from underneath me and I was surrounded by a chilly mist. After a few seconds, the mist cleared, and I was in the training room with Gaute. "What are you doing?" I asked. "What is regression? What did I forget?" "You forgot getting your powers," Gaute answered. "And you forgot what the Seeker did to you last time. It was horrible. I…" he paused and looked at me, anguish in his eyes. "I thought I'd lost you. For a long time, we weren't sure you'd even recover. I almost wished he'd killed you. At least then I wouldn‟t have had to…" he couldn‟t finish his sentence. I walked over to my teacher and hugged him, still not sure why he was so upset. When he pulled away, Gaute's eyes were red and he sniffled. "Can I help with the set up?" I asked, looking at the altar he had been preparing. He nodded. "Light this candle, but not these ones," he said. "They must be lit in ritual." A few minutes later, the altar was ready and Gaute had given me a red silk robe to change into. "Red is the color for passion," he explained. "And this whole thing is rooted in passion. Not necessarily romance, but passion none the less." Once changed into the robe, I turned around to see Gaute at the altar, dressed in a similar robe, only it was blue. "Truth," he said, answering my unspoken question. "As your ghost, I must seek the truth in your memories. As a psych major, you should know all about that." He smiled. "What do I have to do?" "Basically, you have to rewind your memories. I'll give you a few reminder cues, like his name, but I can't say too much or you'll create false memories and we won't get anywhere. Sometimes we put you to sleep, but if the Seeker is really on his way here, we don't have time for that." I sat down on the other side of the altar and crossed my legs. Gaute began the ritual, anointing both of our foreheads with ~5~

Teenagers

a special oil. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I did pick out a few Latin words I recognized. I assumed this was a cross-religious ritual, so he would be speaking in multiple tongues. "Light the white and blue candles," he instructed, then continued to speak in some other language. I felt a fuzzy heat surround my robe, and when I looked down I saw my entire body was bathed in a red and blue glow. "Think back to your freshman year of high school," Gaute said in a soothing tone (and in English, thankfully). I automatically closed my eyes and slipped into a meditative state. "When did you meet Zachary Bell?" "In February," I answered promptly. I knew all these answers. Why were we bothering? "Did you know he was the Seeker?" "No." "Did you know you were the incarnation of Sagittarius?" "No." "What was your relationship with Zachary Bell?" "I dated his best friend, Mitch," I said. Suddenly the fuzzy glow around me turned black and green and I felt a chill spread my from toes to my eyes. "What's happening?" I cried. I tried to open my eyes, but they were frosted shut. "You lied," Gaute said calmly. "No, no I didn't lie! I did date Mitch!" I screamed. "I asked you what your relationship with Zachary Bell was," Gaute repeated. "You must answer properly or you will die." "Gaute! Make it stop! Why are you doing this to me?" I screamed. "I told the Greeks you weren't ready but they won't listen to a ghost. Samantha, you must listen to me. Answer properly and the ice will go away." His voice was a struggled calm. I could tell he didn't want me to be in pain anymore, but as a ghost he was bound to the Nobles' orders. "I don't know! Friends? I liked him!" I cried, the ice on my lips making it increasingly harder to speak. Suddenly the warm glow returned, and the ice was gone. My mind began to ~6~

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flood with memories of how I met Zac, vivid and warm. The true memories chased away the false ones. "I asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance, but he said no," I whispered. "I was sad, but he asked for my number so I thought he liked me." "When did you discover he was the Seeker?" Gaute asked, an air of relief in his tone. "I… Gaute, I don't remember," I said, bursting into tears, afraid I'd be covered in ice again. "I don't remember getting my powers. I don't remember losing Mitch. I don't remember coming to the Palace. I don't remember meeting you. All I know is that those things happened and I recognize all these people, and I know things about them, but I don‟t remember meeting them." "That's what regression is for," Gaute said kindly. "I can't tell you what happened to your memories or it will compromise them. But I can help you find them. Now, have you ever met anyone named Jacob Fastner?" Jacob Faster. He was the key that unlocked everything the Seeker had tried to make me forget. Memories began to bombard my brain. I felt like my skull was cracking. I remembered the pain of first learning how to manipulate time, how Gaute had crushed the bones of my temples in to activate the buttons in my temporal lobes. I could hear my temples cracking again. My brain ached even though it had no pain receptors. I felt the scar tissue in my throat tear again. I could feel the blood dripping down my neck and chest, wetting my robe. I choked as I remembered the first time I read Mitch's mind. The space between my legs began to ache as I remembered losing my virginity, the first time I ever used my time skill. I saw my parents, and a wave of sadness drowned out all my other ailments. I hadn't seen them since I was a junior in high school, over a year ago. They still thought I was in London, studying abroad with my best friend, Gaute. And finally, I remembered my last meeting with Zac, the Seeker. I had come into full control of my abilities, except time ~7~

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manipulation (which was useless with the Corruption), and we were supposed to fight to the death. Only he didn't kill me. He left me with this awful curse instead. "Sam! Sam! Sam, are you alright? Please! Wake up!" Gaute was sitting next to me, frantically wiping blood from my neck. "The ritual is over; you regressed! Please wake up!" I moaned and coughed, my throat still sore and aching. My eyes fluttered open and I saw Gaute, sitting next to me, looking relieved. His hands were stained with my blood. "Oh thank everything," he sighed. "I really thought I'd lost you again." "I remember," I said. "I remember it all." "It worked," Gaute said calmly. He was making a report to the Nobles. "Sagittarius regressed and remembered everything the Seeker's spell had taken from her. Has the threat been contained?" "It was only a human," Ares said, brushing off the inquiry with a wave of his hand. "They do manage to wander into the Palace from time to time. Ragnar should've known that the Seeker would've been much more careful." "Do you have your report?" Zeus demanded. Gaute nodded. "Right here, sir. Before this happened, as some of you know, I also managed to copy most of Mitchell Mantel's memories as well. These are also included in my report." "How are those useful?" Athena asked curiously. "There are a few humans who know about the Sign and the Seeker," Gaute said. "Mantel is one of them. I also managed to cleave one memory from Taylor Gills, another of those humans. I could add that to my report, but it seems rather useless. Her mind is a jumble of song lyrics and medical terms." "Add whatever memories you have that pertain to the Sign and Seeker," Zeus commanded. "Yes, sir." ~8~

Samantha Steele

Zeus sat down in his easy chair. He liked it much better than his throne, which was too straight-backed for his taste. The report from Sagittarius's ghost was in a small vile full of memories sitting on the side table next to him. Getting comfortable, Zeus took one last look out over the Palace grounds. He tipped the vial to his view, and then tossed the contents down his throat. When he opened his eyes, he was a visitor in the past. He stood next to a younger looking Sagittarius, and could hear her thoughts clearer than his own.

~9~

Teenagers

Samantha Steele Keyboarding? Did I really get stuck in keyboarding? Putting me in a class that teaches you how to type is like putting Carly Patterson in a beginner’s gymnastics class. Oh well. At least it will be an easy A. I sit next to a girl named Megan. I know her a little bit because she used to be friends with my best friend Sarah, but we don’t talk. Nobody does. Mrs. Bowan lets us, but no one says anything. I don’t understand, but it makes me look like less of a loser. One day I went to class, but someone else was sitting where I was supposed to be. Megan was out of luck, too; there was a new girl in her seat as well. So I sat behind my normal seat. Moving four feet was like moving into a different room; there's a completely different set of people here. The tables were arranged so that the computers face each other. I had never seen the three boys sitting across from me before. Guessing by their features, comfortable expressions, and placid eyes, I assumed they were juniors. The one in the middle was pretty cute. He had short, dark blonde hair, and large, round blue eyes. His friend to the left had curly brown hair, but it was always hidden under a knit hat, and his skinny arms were always covered in plaid flannel shirts. They often muttered to each other, but never to me, until one day in February. "Is your last name Smallman?" the blonde one asked quietly. Something hit me when he spoke. There is no way to explain how I felt because I barely remember it. I remember being scared and shocked and excited, and then embarrassed because I didn‟t even reply verbally; I just shook my head. His expression didn‟t change. He just looked away, making me feel like a stupid freshman. ~ 10 ~

Samantha Steele

He didn‟t say anything to me for another whole week, but he began to glance at me a little more often. Then, on the day I decided I had a crush on him, he spoke to me. "What‟s your name?" he asked, using the same blank, empty tone as before. "Sam," I tried to say. My voice was broken and almost inaudible, but by a stroke of luck, he heard it. "What?" he asked, his whole body suddenly showing expression. "Sam?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows and leaning forward. Not looking from my screen, I nodded with my mouth slightly dropped. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod and turn back to his screen. The room was silent for a few moments until he asked me what grade I was in. His tone had returned to that dry, placid meter. "Are you in 10th grade?" I shook my head. "Ninth?" I nodded, and so did he. After a few moments, I gathered my courage and, in a steady and normal voice, I asked, "Why?" Again his whole body surged with emotion. "Just curious," he said, shrugging his shoulders, pushing out his bottom lip, and turning towards the door. For the rest of the day, I tried desperately to figure him out. For a week he acts like I don‟t exist, and then he wants to know my name. He speaks like he‟s dead when he asks me questions, but comes alive when I speak to him. Two days later, we spoke again, but this time it was an actual conversation. I was so thrilled to actually be talking to him that I hardly recollect it, but I do remember this: His two friends had ditched class that day, and I thought to myself, Why would he come to class if his friends ditched? I tried to convince myself that he came to class just to see me. I don‟t remember how we got talking, but we did. Devin‟s computer was down, so he sat next to Blue-Eyes instead of Plaid Boy (I had started to call my new crush BlueEyes and his friend, who always wore those flannel shirts, Plaid Boy). Now, Devin and I hate each other, and for a very good reason that I need not explain quite yet. ~ 11 ~

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Devin started talking to Blue-Eyes, which made me very nervous. Somehow we got onto the subject of why Devin and I hate each other, and Blue-Eyes kept pressing me to tell him. Finally, Devin divulged the truth, and Blue-Eyes thought it was funny. That made me angry, because the reason I hate Devin has to do with him taking something from my best friend that she can never, ever get back. And then he told everyone about it, including some junior he'd known for a mere five minutes! So I joked around with Blue-Eyes, telling him that Devin was a bad person and that he shouldn‟t talk to him (well, I suppose it wasn‟t joking if I was serious). The point is that I left class satisfied and happy because I had talked to Blue-Eyes, and he had started the conversation. But then he didn‟t talk to me for almost two weeks. I was nervous all the time, thinking that maybe Devin had said something bad that had turned Blue-Eyes off to me. If Devin ruined this relationship before it even began, I was going to murder his reputation. That just wasn‟t fair. Since Blue-Eyes was a junior, I had never seen him at lunch until one chilly day in February, almost two weeks after our first real conversation. He passed my best friend Cami and I three times while we were wandering around the halls, and on the third time, he walked by and simply said, "What‟s up?" The next day was the day I began to experience my first serious crush. Now, I had liked boys before, of course, and thought about them all the time, and followed them and knew their schedules and all, but Blue-Eyes was different. I literally could not do anything else but think or talk about Blue-Eyes. Occasionally I would get a stroke of luck and be able to read a few chapters in a book or go a whopping ten minutes without him invading my mind with his cute little puppy dog eyes and round nose. I could smell the boredom on my friends when I droned on and on about his gorgeous eyes and exhilarating voice. In English, the period just before my keyboarding class, I constantly watched the clock, waiting as the minutes ticked painfully by. ~ 12 ~

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Tuesdays were the worst days of the week because I didn‟t have his class. On those days, I would scan the entire school any and every moment I got, hoping to see his eyes glittering in the crowd somewhere. I finally figured out his real name one day when Mrs. Bowan asked him something. She said, "Zack," and then I didn‟t hear the question. So then I wasn‟t talking about Blue-Eyes or the blond boy anymore. Now I was talking about Zack, and he conquered my mind without even knowing - or trying, for that matter. As I was sitting in English a few days later, staring at the clock, my chest began to ache. It was actually painful. My heart wasn‟t beating fast; it was beating hard. I knew that in fifteen minutes, Zack‟s enticing blue eyes and oddly intriguing minor acne would be in front of me. My breath came in hushed gasps; I thought something was wrong with me! Cami and I walked down the hall and I became short of breath. I tried to hide it, but my teeth began to chatter. I was shaking. She asked what was wrong with me, and I lied and said I was cold, even though I was wearing a cozy red sweatshirt. The three-minute bell rang and I literally ran away from her and towards my class. When I got to the door, Zack was already sitting there in all his glorious beauty. My heart calmed a bit, but my chest still ached. I sat down and he glanced at me. I attempted to smile but got nervous and just stared at my screen. That day, Mrs. Bowan made us do timed typing tests. We typed a set of paragraphs for three minutes into a program, and then it would tell us our word-per-minute rate. While Mrs. Bowan was taking our rates down, Zack and I locked eyes for a moment. "What‟d you get?" he asked. "One-oh-eight," I said, my voice surprisingly steady and proud. He nodded again, just like he always did. "What did you get?" I asked a few moments later. "Seventy-nine," he said a little shyly. I smiled. His friends asked what my word-per-minute rate was, and he told them. When Mrs. Bowan came by to record our rates, Zack told her he felt intimidated by my typing skills. It was cute. ~ 13 ~

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My day passed by slowly and all I could do was think about him. It began to scare me. I barely knew him; but he was the only thing on my mind. The next day, I had firmly decided that I HAD to force myself to ask him to the Sadie Hawkin‟s dance next Friday. At the end of English, my heart started to beat hard again, and I felt the familiar shortness of breath and painful poundings of blood. My body started shaking as the bell rang. What’s wrong with me? I thought. I’ve been obsessed with guys before, but they’ve never made me feel like this. As I walked closer and closer to keyboarding, my cheeks got hot and flushed and I started to sweat lightly. When I opened the door, Zack was nowhere in sight. I sat down, my heart still trying to push my lungs aside and make its presence known. Plaid boy (whose actual name was Mitchell) was sitting at his computer, as usual. I stared angrily at Zack‟s empty chair, screaming in my head, "Come to class, come to class!" I constantly glanced from the door to his chair, but he didn‟t come. The clock ticked on until the last bell rang, and Zack never showed up.

~ 14 ~

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Zachary Bell "I have to go, Dad," I said, standing up. "I have to pick Lily up this afternoon." "Doesn‟t that bitch have a car?" my dad asked. "Yes. She‟s getting her studs off. I have to take her to pick it up." "Why can‟t your good-for-nothing whore of a mother do it? I hardly get to see you anymore." "You‟re in jail, Dad. And Mom‟s working. So is Phil, not that you care," I added. When I got to my car, I sat in the driver‟s seat and stared off into space. I was tired of this. My dad, Anthony Bell, is in jail for… a few different things, including child abuse. I don‟t know actually why I still go and see him. I guess it has something to do with the whole "father-son" thing. I hate him, but I can‟t help but love him. Lily is my sister. She‟s twenty-two. Phil is our step-dad. He and my mom got married last year after my parents got divorced. He‟s a nice guy, I guess. He treats my mom right, and that‟s all that matters. I guess. I picked up Lily at her job. She works at a club downtown… the kind of club you wouldn‟t want your daughter to work at. I always feel embarrassed pulling in. I‟m afraid I‟ll see somebody I know, or that Lily will recognize one of my friends and say something while she‟s… working. Lily came out in streetwalker Barbie shoes, a skirt so short you could see her ass, and a denim jacket. I felt embarrassed letting her get into my car, especially because the first thing she did was say, "Hey Hon," and kiss my cheek. I smiled stiffly and peeled out of there before anyone saw us. Lily sat next to me pulling her skirt down about every three seconds. I asked her why she has to wear that stuff when I pick her up.

~ 15 ~

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"I‟m sorry, Zac, but this is what I wear to work. Well, I change when I get inside, but this is what I wear TO work," she said. "Lily, it‟s like ten degrees outside. You could at least wear pants. Long, non-see-through pants," I added, noticing her thoughtful expression. "I‟m not a prostitute!" she shouted. "I‟m just a dancer." "You dance on a freaking pole, Lilith." "Don‟t call me Lilith! I‟ll leap out the window of this car right now!" "I‟m not getting out or waiting for you at the car shop." "What if some scary fat guy starts hitting on me? You‟re my brother. You‟re supposed to save me." "I‟m your little brother. You‟re supposed to save me." "I don‟t like your logic. Thanks for the ride, lil‟ bro‟," Lily said, getting out of the car and slipping on the ice. She almost fell, but caught herself. I peeled out once more and left my sister standing in the cold. I walked into computers class, Mitchell at my side. Mitchell is my best friend. We‟ve known each other since first grade. The seat across from me used to be empty, but a new girl was sitting there. I was pretty sure I‟d seen her before, but I couldn‟t remember where. Maybe I waited on her table once. She was pretty damned hot. Looked like a sophomore. It’s okay for juniors to date sophomores, right? Ah hell. What am I saying? She’s got expensive clothes, five ear piercings in one ear, a diamond in her nose, and shampoo-commercial hair. What would she want with a washed up junior who waits tables at O’Brady’s and has a stripper for a sister and a dad in jail? I thought. But I couldn‟t help it. There was just something about her that called to me. Sometimes she curls her hair, and that looks really pretty. It‟s really dark and silky looking. ~ 16 ~

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Her eyes are this freaky blue color. They‟re super bright and stand out with her really dark hair. I have blue eyes, too, but not like hers. She wears braces. Normally braces turn me off, but hers aren't silver; they're this interesting gold color. I think they might even be real gold. It's really cool that she took a curse like that and turned it into something unique. I‟ve never seen anyone with gold braces before. She wears the same shirt every Monday. It‟s a long sleeved, boat neck shirt with green and gray stripes. She usually curls her hair on Mondays. I had to talk to her. I just had to. I needed to know her name. I remembered Evan saying that his little brother knew a supposedly really hot girl named Ashley Smallman. He mentioned that she was in my computers class. I did a quick look around to see if there were any hotter girls in the class. Nope. If this Ashley chick was as hot as Evan‟s little brother said, this was definitely her. "Is your last name Smallman?" I asked. When she looked at me, her eyes got really wide and her jaw dropped slightly. She barely glanced at me before turning back to her computer and just shaking her head. Figuring she probably thought I was a creep or something, I did the same. But as the days passed, I noticed her glancing at me more often. She had no set expression in her eyes. I couldn‟t tell if she thought I was weird, or if she liked me. I had to know her name. "What‟s your name?" I asked her sometime later. "Sam," she said. Her voice was really hard to understand. It cracked when she spoke. I guessed she wasn‟t expecting me to talk to her. She didn‟t even look at me, though, she just keep staring at her screen with a dead look on her face. "Are you in tenth grade?" I asked. She shook her head. "Ninth?" She nodded. Well, that kind of sucks. She‟s got to be at least fifteen. I‟m only seventeen. Maybe her birthday is before mine; then ~ 17 ~

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nothing will be illegal. Not that I was planning that already or anything… "Why?" she asked a few moments later. Her voice was suddenly strong but calm. She was ready this time. But I wasn‟t. This time I was taken off guard. "Just curious," I said, shrugging. I saw her lick her lips and turn back to her computer. "Zac, I know you too well," Mitchell said during Home Ec, my other elective. I rarely go, but I needed to talk to Mitchell today. "What do you mean?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. "You like that freshman. The one with the black hair." "You mean Sam? She‟s okay." "Oh come on, Zac. You hardly EVER speak to girls, and all of a sudden you want to know this chick‟s name?" "You talk to girls all the time! Why is it different with me?" "Because girls fall all over me. I wish they didn‟t. But you never even talk to girls, Zac. You‟re shy." "I am not." "Yes, you are. The only thing you do is work. You aren‟t even passing Algebra B. You‟re like a brother to me, Zac, and that‟s why I think I can tell you that you‟re an idiot." "I know. Can you believe it? I‟m a junior in Algebra B. And I‟m failing." "Maybe if you took a few hours off-" "I‟m not giving you my hours!" Mitchell was always trying to steal my hours. It wasn‟t really fair. Mitchell was smart, organized, and a chick magnet. I was stupid, scatterbrained, shy, and a workaholic. I guess this proves opposites attract, right?

~ 18 ~

Samantha Steele

Mitchell Mantel "I‟m not asking for your stupid hours! I just think you need to act a little more like a teenager. You‟re too adult," I said to my best friend. Zac Bell. The most he ever says to girls is, "No, I‟m not related to Drake Bell." Now me, I can‟t get away from the girls. I don‟t know what it is about me they like. I‟m always experimenting, trying to get rid of whatever it is that attracts them. I always wear a hat, and I only shampoo my hair on Mondays (don‟t worry, I bathe, I just don‟t shampoo my hair). So one would derive that they obviously aren‟t enthralled by my curly, greasy hair. I always wear plaid flannel shirts with band tees underneath them so that girls can‟t see my muscles (or lack thereof). I wear baggy jeans and skate shoes. I even have a little strip of hair below my lip like a goatee. Once I shaved it, thinking that‟s what girls like, but it didn‟t help, so I grew it back because I really like it. What I really don‟t understand is why girls don‟t like Zac. I mean, yeah, he‟s got some issues with his mom and his dad and his sister and his grades, but he‟s a great guy. He‟s affectionate and sweet, he‟s got Pantene-model blonde hair, electric blue eyes, and maybe a little acne but hey, he‟s only seventeen. Oops. I guess that made me sound a little gay. I‟m not. I like girls; just not the preppy bitches that always like me. They‟re always blonde. I hate blonde girls. They always make me think of mindless sluts like Zac‟s sister. If I was making out with a girl and a vision of Lilith popped into my head, I‟d probably puke. Anyways, Zac and I were arguing in Home Ec. You see, there‟s this new girl in the class that he really likes, but he won‟t admit it. Zac has good taste. She‟s the kind of girl I want to date, at first glance, that is. ~ 19 ~

Teenagers

Her name is Sam. She‟s got really dark hair that she curls a lot. Her eyes are blue like Zac‟s, but they‟re a darker shade. I love girls with dark hair. And blue eyes? What a rare and beautiful combination. Another thing I like about her is that she doesn‟t wear stupid preppy shit. She hardly puts on any makeup. She always wears this green and gray striped shirt on Mondays. Zac likes Mondays. And Zac? Well, he never talks to girls because they usually think he‟s ugly. But he can‟t keep himself away from this new chick. He‟s always thinking up ways to speak to her. I‟m happy for him; he needs something that will let him escape from his life. An outlet. He needs her. "I don‟t like her," Zac said affirmatively. "I didn‟t ask." "You were thinking about it." "Okay, I was. I think you should ask her out." "No way! She‟s just a freshman." "So? Tell you what. Austin and I will skip sometime next week. You can ask her out that day. She won‟t be intimidated by us, and she‟ll talk to you. Ask her to the movies or something." "She doesn‟t like me." "So? Who cares? She‟s just a freshman." I went home right after class. Home Ec was sixth period. As soon as I set foot in my house, Macy called me. "Mitchie!" she shouted from the other end. "Hi Macy." "What‟s up? How are you? Still sexy? Anyway, Austin said there‟s a party at Evan‟s tonight! You want to go? Maybe we can get a little…you know," she switched to her "sexy" voice, "drunk and excited." "Macy, you know Evan and I don‟t like each other." I REALLY didn‟t want to get "drunk and excited" with Macy. Austin likes her anyway. He probably asked her to the party. "Oh who cares? Evan won‟t even see us. Or, we could just skip the party and get drunk at my place… my parents are out of town…" ~ 20 ~

Samantha Steele

"I have to go to work, Macy. Bye." I hung up before she could protest. Macy is one of the girls I don‟t like but that follow me anyway. She makes advances all the time and I‟m too nice to tell her to fuck off. Hell, she‟d probably take that as an invitation to rip my pants off in the middle of the hallway. She‟s not ugly. But she‟s blonde. And she reminds me far too much of Lilith. Macy‟s really upfront. The first time we met, she said I was really hot. At first I thought that meant she had courage and good self-esteem, but within the next week, she was already calling me and asking if we could hang out at her place when her parents weren‟t home. Honestly, when a girl says something like that, it‟s a real turnoff. If a guy says it, he‟s a jerk. If a girl says it, she‟s a slut. I‟m afraid I‟d catch something. Besides that, I‟m a virgin. I‟m not against it or anything; I just haven‟t found a girl I can really love yet. If I‟m going to sleep with a girl, I want to have a relationship with her, too. And most of the girls I know are mindless sluts like Macy and Lilith. Evan likes girls like that. That‟s pretty much the only reason I don‟t like him. He uses girls like pencils. When they get dull and don't perform as well, he throws them out. He and Zac are friends because Evan makes Zac feel like a stud. Austin is only his friend because Macy is always hanging around him, that is, when she‟s not hanging around me.

~ 21 ~

Teenagers

Austin Trowser "Mr. Trowser? Perhaps you can tell us something interesting about the smallest planet in our solar system?" Mitch nudged me hard in the ribs. I jolted awake. "What?" I mumbled. "The smallest planet? Perhaps you could tell us something interesting about it? Or was your dream too exciting? Perhaps you‟d like to tell us about that instead?" Mitch stifled a laugh. "Uh… it‟s the only planet named after a cartoon character?" I ignored the dream question. "Mr. Trowser, perhaps if you came to class once in a while, you would know that Pluto hasn‟t been a planet for quite some time," Mr. Bleakman said in his monotonous voice. "Sorry." When we left, Mitch burst out laughing. His super tanned cheeks flushed bright red and he started wheezing. "What was so funny? I just fell asleep." Mitch was usually extremely calm. Seeing him crack up like this was actually kind of scary. "How was that dream of yours?" he managed between fits of laughter. He bit his lip to try and stop himself from having an asthma attack. "I wasn't dreaming," I lied. "You were moaning about Macy the whole time!" "WHAT?!" I shouted, embarrassed beyond all reason. We walked outside to Mitch‟s car. Zac was asking out some freshman today, so we had promised to skip class. "Yeah! You kept saying, „Macy, Macy, oh MACY!‟" Mitch imitated what I supposedly sounded like. He rubbed his chest and batted his eyelashes. "Touch me, touch me!" "I didn‟t say that!" I said, punching his shoulder. "Okay, maybe you didn‟t, but you did mutter her name a few times. I don‟t think Mr. Bleakman heard you, though." ~ 22 ~

Samantha Steele

Mitch and I drove down to Subway and had lunch with a few junior girls who were practically drooling on Mitch's sandwich. We bought Zac a lunch too so he wouldn‟t have to leave campus and battle with traffic. About halfway through our lunch period, we drove back to school and met up with him. "So did you ask her?" Mitch demanded, handing Zac his sandwich. "No," Zac replied shyly, looking at his feet. "But we talked." "You‟re such a wimp," I said. "You‟re one to talk! You never shut up about Macy, but you don‟t ask her out either, do you?" "Macy likes Mitch," I said sadly. "You can have Macy all to yourself. Trust me; I don‟t want her," Mitch stated with an air of disgust, taking a step back. "No offense, but she‟s so not my type." "Thanks, Mitch." "Anytime, bro," Mitch said, patting my shoulder. "And that‟s my cue to leave. Later guys." Mitch walked away as Evan approached. They didn‟t like each other very much. "Zac. Dude. There‟s this senior who I met last night. She has a hot older sister who's in college. You up for a double date?" Evan asked. Evan has this evil looking face… he always glares at everyone, even when he‟s friends with them. "No, that‟s okay," Zac said, not making eye contact. "Dude, Zac," Evan said, forcing Zac look at him. "Drop the freshman. She‟s worthless. Freshman never put out." "Dating isn‟t all about sex, Evan!" Zac said angrily. He walked away gripping his sandwich with white fingers. "Dude, what is his problem?" Evan asked me. I shrugged. "Anyway, you up for the date?" "I‟d really like to go to your party with Macy," I said. "Ah, that‟s right. You ask her out yet?" "I asked her to the party. Then she turned around and asked Mitch out." Macy is this girl I know. In fact, she's the most amazing girl in the world. She has long blonde hair and brown eyes. She‟s ~ 23 ~

Teenagers

really pale, and when she gets excited her cheeks turn this fiery red color that she thinks is embarrassing. I think it‟s really cute. Macy‟s really thin and likes to wear heels because she‟s short. She usually wears pink on Mondays, blue on Tuesdays, orange on Wednesdays, purple on Thursdays, and rainbow colors on Fridays. She likes music a lot, and she giggles all the time. I love her laugh. Macy‟s so beautiful; she doesn't have a single fault. Her nose is tiny and round and her lips are this pale pink… I always want to kiss them. I really like Macy. She really likes Mitch. I‟m really jealous. I‟m really jealous because Mitch is so perfect. All the girls like his curly hair, his smell, his everything! He‟s flawless. Me? I‟m pale, unlike Mitch, who‟s got naturally tan skin. I have acne. Mitch has perfect skin. My name sucks. Girls think his is sexy. I wear stupid clothes; I‟m a nerd. Mitch always wears cool clothes and he has this calm personality girls think is sexy. I‟m freakishly tall; Mitch is the perfect height. Mitch is one of my best friends, but I am insanely jealous of him. "Well you know she‟s going. You know she‟ll get drunk. Just tell her you‟re Mitch. She‟ll do anything you want. Anyway, I missed some stupid Chem test I have to make up. Later." "Later, Evan."

~ 24 ~

Samantha Steele

Samantha Steele Today is Thursday. The dance is tomorrow. I still haven't asked him. I promise my friends I'll talk to him. The period slips by, and before I know it, there are only four minutes left. Today is also a spirit day: dress like your date. Attempting to fulfill what I promised, I gather my courage and stare at him until he notices. Our eyes catch for a few seconds, and I say: "Your date must be really ugly." "What?" he grunts, clearly confused. "Your date must be really ugly," I repeat. He still doesn’t get it. Feeling stupid, I mutter "Never mind," laugh, and shake my head. He looks at his friend, whom I call Skipper because he rarely comes to class, who explains what I mean. "It’s dress like your date day, and you’re not wearing girls’ clothes," Skipper says. "Oh! I get it! That’s funny. I like it," Zack says, laughing and pointing at me. I smile and laugh lightly. "No. I don’t go to dances." "Why not?" I ask, afraid that he’s rejecting me before I even ask him out. "’Cause I’m lame," he says shyly, looking at his hands. "I haven’t been to a dance since 8th grade." I chicken out, smile and look away. When I leave for lunch, I go and find my best friend, who hits me in the stomach for being too shy. During fifth period, my friend Taylor helps me devise a note to put in his chair, and makes me swear on my puppy’s life that I will put it there tomorrow. Friday. I wake up, my stomach in knots and my brain scrambled. I pick out my favorite long-sleeved black shirt and wear it under my T-shirt that says, "Save a Tree. Eat Animals." ~ 25 ~

Teenagers

We are on an assembly schedule today, so each period except first is ten minutes shorter. First and second period are just as painful as usual. My best friend and I book it to my computers class right after English. In her hand is the note I wrote in Spanish yesterday; it says, Hey. I know this is super last minute, I hope you’re not working, but, for once in your high school life, don’t be lame. Just open the gum. -Sam There’s a piece of gum with it, and, under the wrapper, there’s a piece of gold paper that says, "THE GOLDEN TICKET. Hey cutie. Want to go to Sadie Hawkins with me?" I place it in his chair and am dragged out of the room by my best friend, who tells me she’s going to punch me in the face and tell Zack I want him to give me ten beautiful babies if I don’t leave it there. My friends are so loving. As nervous as I am, I leave the note. I watch Zack come in out of the corner of my eye and take the note out of his chair. I didn’t know exactly how he spelled his name, so I just put a big Z on it. Zack sits down and sets the note in front of him. He plays with the corners with his fingers while he talks to Mitchell and Skipper. My heart starts that painful beating again and I try my hardest not to look at him. Eventually he opens the note and reads it without reaction. When he opens the gum, I have a strong urge to disappear. Luckily for me, Mitchell, Skipper, and Zack spend the next few minutes trying to figure out who "Sam" is. I do my best not to smile. Mrs. Bowan gives us our assignments. After I finish typing mine, I put my chin in my palm and check it for errors. Zack normally sits like a stone in his chair, but I notice him fidgeting a lot out of the corner of my eye. It occurs to me that he may be copying me, so I glance at him. ~ 26 ~

Samantha Steele

He’s watching me with a smile on his face, mimicking my every move. "Stop copying me!" I say with a grin. "What’s your number?" he mouths, putting his hand to his ear like a phone. Thinking I may have misunderstood him, I just laugh and glance away. He grabs his pencil and pretends to write on the table, raising his eyebrows and bobbing his head. "Do you want me to write it down?" I ask, trying to contain my excitement. He nods excitedly. So I take out my notebook, tear out a page, and write my cell number on it. I print out my assignment and drop my number onto his keyboard as I walk past. When I come back to my seat, I see him fold up the paper and zip it up in his pocket. And then I finally let myself breathe, the whole world suddenly coming into focus. I've just completed the hardest project of my life! Phew. What a weight off my shoulders. For the rest of the period, he turned away from me and wouldn‟t speak to me or even look at me. To be honest, I didn‟t mind. I left class both ecstatic and confused. He had asked for my number, but never told me if he‟d go with me to the dance. I suffered anxiously through the rest of the day. He never texted or called me. I was beginning to think that I accidentally gave him the wrong number! I came home and made a phony call to my mom, acting all sad and depressed. I knew she'd feel sorry for me but then be excited when I told her the truth later. About five minutes after I sat down at my computer to work on a report, my phone vibrated. Ecstatic, I checked my messages. There was one from a new number. He finally texted me! I found out he spells his name "Zac" not "Zack" or "Zach." Good to know. I like it. We started talking, and for a long time, he didn‟t tell me whether or not he‟d go with me to the dance. We talked about why I refused to look at him all period, and I told him he makes me nervous. Zac thought that was just plain ridiculous. ~ 27 ~

Teenagers

Samantha Steele Zac and I talked for about two hours until I finally decided to ask him to the dance… again. I said, "Well… do you want to go with me? I understand if you don‟t; they can be pretty lame. But we can always ditch if it is." I waited a long time for his reply. He just said, "I can‟t. Sorry." "I figured that much," I texted back. "Ha ha…oh. Stop it," he said. "Stop what?" I asked. "Ha ha oh nothing." "You‟re confusing me," I replied. I had no clue what he was talking about. "Nothing. Everything I say is just me messing around." "Clarify your thoughts please! I‟m swimming in contradicting answers here!" He never replied to that text. After about two hours, as the clock approached seven, I gave up on him. Both my ego and self-esteem had been deflated, like a birthday balloon turned into a flat piece of latex; I told all my friends I wasn‟t going to the dance. I sat on the floor with a depressed look and just stroked my dogs. They would never say no to me. But I really liked Zac, so I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I convinced myself that he was working and simply couldn‟t get time off on such short notice, and since he was a waiter at O‟Brady‟s (well, he said he worked there, so I pictured him as a waiter) he wouldn‟t have time to text me back. But I still let a few tears run down my cheeks. I wasn‟t really sad about him rejecting me; he must like me a little or he wouldn‟t have asked for my number in the first place. I was mostly sad that I wouldn‟t get to go to the dance with a really hot junior on my arm. Zac was definitely a really hot junior. I was curled up under my sheets with the lights out as three or four tears slid down my cheeks. I smelled my wet hair, and the massage-oil scent of my shampoo calmed me enough to ~ 28 ~

Samantha Steele

put me to sleep fairly quickly. I didn‟t have any dreams, probably because right before I fell asleep I said aloud, "I hate you Zac. Stay out of my brain." I didn‟t really hate him though. It just sort of fell out. I woke up sharply at 12:30 in the morning. My phone made a dinging noise, so I leaped up and snatched it off my footboard. "Just don‟t take me seriously… well sometimes," Zac said. "What took you so long?" "Work. Sorry." "Work is good." And I was happy again. He had been working, and he cared enough to continue our conversation. He asked me if I went to the dance anyway, and I said no, but Cami was mad at me because I left her on a date with a weirdo. I told him I hated spoiled rich kids, and he said, "Never know. I could be super rich." "But you have a job," I said. "And a car. Bonus points! And you‟re really hot. That helps," I said, trying to inflate his ego a little bit. And hey, everything I said was true. We texted for two hours, and then he just stopped replying. After half an hour with no response, I sent him one last text that said "Goodnight then ." It’s 9:43 a.m. now, and I’m guessing he fell asleep and is still snoozing. I am about to go to lunch with my mom and aunt, who hasn’t heard about any of this yet. My mom has a thing for letting everyone know what’s going on in my romantic life. At least I have one now. Well, I think I do. Does it count as a love life if I'm not even certain he likes me? Does it make a difference that he ignores me a lot? I don't know. But so far, Zac seems like a good guy. Maybe he'll at least give me the confidence to grow up.

~ 29 ~

Teenagers

Jacob Fastner I can‟t believe it. I just can‟t believe it. I can‟t believe that Cami Hooper just asked me to the Sadie Hawkins Dance. I thought those kinds of things only happened in dreams. Cami has really short brown hair that she likes to put up in a Mohawk. She listens to heavy metal music and her best friend is this really ugly bitch named Sam. I don‟t know what Cami sees in her. I am in love with Cami Hooper. I told her once. I ran up to her and told her best friend to scram. Then I said, "Cami, I love you," and ran away. I received a somewhat negative reaction, but that didn‟t dampen my spirits at all. I just told her I was testing her to see if she liked me. It seemed to work well. But that obnoxious, ugly friend of hers is keeping her from me. She‟s always whispering to Cami. I know she‟s saying bad things about me. I hate her. She likes this stupid junior that she never shuts up about. GOD is she annoying. And she argues a lot. She always picks fights with me. I like to argue with women. They‟re always wrong. Cami is sort of a bitch, too, but I like it. She knows how to take charge. I like that in a woman. Dominance equals sex appeal. And oh hot damn does Cami have sex appeal. She‟s really short with really big tits, but I don‟t care about that. Her annoying friends always tell her that as long as she doesn‟t get any taller in the next couple of years, she can be considered a midget and get the handicap sticker. Then they could all get the good parking spaces. What bitches. I really hate her friends, you know. God, Cami is beautiful. I love her. "You look beautiful," I said. ~ 30 ~

Samantha Steele

"Yeah yeah yeah." Cami hates compliments. "This is Sam‟s slut dress," she says with a laugh. God do I love her laugh. I boiled with anger. I hate that stupid, ugly, fat, disgusting, friend of hers. Why did she have to ruin this dance for me? Why couldn‟t that be Cami‟s dress? Why did it have to be Sam‟s? "Where is she? I thought she asked out that junior guy… what‟s his name? Zac?" "He said he had to work. I think she‟s really upset." Good. She deserves some pain. Now she knows how I feel when she drones on and on and on about his "gorgeous blue eyes" and "luxurious blonde hair" and "sexy, skinny little body." I laughed. "Don‟t be mean," Cami scolded me. "She really likes him." "Well he obviously doesn‟t like her." "Don‟t be an asshole!" Cami said, hitting me in the arm. "Was that supposed to hurt? I think a fly landed on me," I said, making fun of her on purpose. She glared at me sinisterly. "Would you like to dance?" I asked. She rolled her eyes. "Oh well." She took my arm and we danced stiffly for a few minutes. Cami was silent. She was wearing a normally strapless black dress that zipped up the front, only she'd tacked on straps to make it legal under the school's dress code. On her, it came halfway down her thigh. On her slutty, ugly friend, it probably just barely covered her butt. There were holes in the side that showed a little bit of skin, but just enough to drive me nuts. It was nice to see Cami wearing a dress, even if she wore her worn out Converse hi-tops with it. It really complimented her perfect figure. We hung out a little, but Cami didn‟t really say much. I kissed her, but she seemed pretty unenthusiastic about it. I bought her a drink, but she didn‟t seem to like it. I did all I could do to try and make her happy, but nothing really seemed to work. My efforts seemed pointless, so I stopped trying. I could tell she was very uncomfortable with the whole dance situation. Cami doesn‟t like public displays of affection. ~ 31 ~

Teenagers

She gets mad when I touch her if people are around. What I don‟t understand is that with her last boyfriend, Kris, she kissed him and held him in the hallway all the time. I know we‟re not dating yet, but she won‟t even accept compliments from me. Sam liked Kris. Maybe that‟s why Cami was nicer to him. Her stupid friends approved. They don‟t approve of me, and personally, I don‟t want them to. When I got home, I bounced back and forth between being on top of the world happy, and being down in the dumps because she seemed to not really have enjoyed the night. It‟s all Sam‟s fault. If she hadn‟t been such a downer… She shouldn‟t have gotten her hopes up about that guy. Who would date her anyway? She‟s fat with braces and a really pointy nose. And she‟s a flaming bitch. She argued with me once over whether Fight Club was a book or a movie first. I was certain it was a movie first. I knew it was. She said it wasn‟t. I never brought it up again, but I went home that night and figured out I was wrong. I will NEVER admit that. She‟s the one that made Cami not like me. If she wasn‟t around, Cami would love me just like I love her. Everything would be perfect if that bitch just didn‟t exist. I‟ve got to do something. I can‟t just let Cami go. Sam has to leave. Sam has to go. She‟s messing with my plans. I have to get rid of her.

~ 32 ~

Samantha Steele

Samantha Steele It’s been three days since Zac from computers class asked for my number. I was so excited when he did; so thrilled and full of joy. I’m still happy, but now I’m afraid and I feel a little stupid. I’m used to liking guys that I just know. I can predict their reactions if I really think about what I’m saying. I know what they like and what kinds of people they hang with. I grew up with their kind. But Zachary… he’s different. I feel like a Pilgrim in a new country. I can’t predict him. I can’t decipher him. He doesn’t skateboard, he likes cats, he didn’t like Silence of the Lambs, and he’s definitely not a nerd. This whole thing is fresh and new and actually quite scary. I like it; but I’m lost in it. Today was Monday, our first day back since the weekend. Last night I texted Zac at 8:00 p.m. to remind him to go to sleep. He thanked me for the reminder, and I told him it would be sad if he fell asleep on his way to school tomorrow. He said he didn‟t want to go, and I told him to go to sleep. We had a power outage this morning, half the town, so I sent him a wake up text in case in his alarm didn‟t go off. After that I decided I was getting too "girlfriend-y", and quit sending him messages. When he walked in at the beginning of third period, we locked eyes. "You‟re such a narcoleptic," I teased. "Yeah I‟m always falling asleep," Zac laughed. He sat down and said hello to his friends. I was glad he came to school today. "Do you know a freshman named Sunshyne?" he asked. "Yeah." "Is she weird?" "Yeah, kind of," I said. "Oh. She was at my house yesterday." ~ 33 ~

Teenagers

"Fun," I said, sort of confused. Was he trying to make me jealous or something? "Her mom was, too. She‟s a lesbian." "Okay..?" I said, now very confused. "Yeah, it‟s weird." From here his voice got quieter and I had to strain to hear it. He sort of stopped talking to me and was talking more to Mitchell and Skipper. "‟Cause one of them‟s the guy…" "Ew!" Plaid laughed. "Yeah, it‟s weird," Zac repeated. Not really caring for the conversation, I stopped listening. After a few minutes, I noticed Zac staring at me, a blank, expressionless look on his face. "What?" I laughed, glancing around. "Nothing," he said with a shrug. Zac looked away and didn‟t look back, as far as I saw, all period. We didn‟t speak, either. I remembered him telling me not to be shy around him, so I tried to act like I was really busy with other things. I didn‟t want to act like I was too interested in him, and possibly scare him away. After class, I met up with Cami in the hall. As we were walking back to H hall, where her locker is, we passed Zac, who smiled and raised his eyebrows in greeting at me. I smiled back. Cami giggled with excitement and tickled my ribs. "Aw he likes you!" she squealed. "I hope so! He did that cute eyebrow raise thing," I said. Towards the end of the day, I ended up hanging out with my old friend Taylor and her best friend Amy. They both told me that I didn‟t miss much at the dance; according to them it really sucked. Amy did say, however, that two people were caught having sex behind the curtain. Really wanting to talk to Zac after school, I told him the gossip. Now, if I had told any of my guy friends, they probably would have thought it was really funny and said something like, "Too bad we didn‟t get to see them get caught." Zac however, like I said previously, is unlike any other boy I know. He just said, "Gross." ~ 34 ~

Samantha Steele

It‟s 7:10 p.m. now, and I have not texted him since. I've decided that I will wait for this godlike beauty to come to me. If Blue Eyes wants a piece of Hazel Eyes over here, he better come and get it.

~ 35 ~

Teenagers

Samantha Steele Today is Sunday. I have not spoken to Zac since last Thursday. Since it is Spring Break, we had Friday off. Zac did not come to class on Thursday, so I was okay with leaving early for my orthodontist appointment. I wasn‟t aware at the time, but that appointment would set the tone for my entire Spring Break. I was supposed to get my braces off in May, after two years of having gold wires binding my teeth together. Yes, you read that correctly, my braces are made of 14-karat gold. But at that horrid appointment, I was sentenced to another year, at the very minimum, of aching gums and rubber bands that seal my jaw shut at night. I was so sour with my whole life at that very moment (I realized that prom with braces was evident) that I skipped my geometry and biology tests and did not return to school. To make matters worse, Zac only texted me twice, and he was only answering questions I asked him about his break. He was working all week. By Friday morning, I wasn‟t too upset. I was a little anxious to speak with Zac, but I always felt that way. I spent most of the day playing the Sims 2 and reading The Wind in the Willows. I played with my dogs a little, but they were my only social contact until my parents came home late that night. On Saturday, I texted my best friend Sarah and asked when we could get together to celebrate her birthday, which was the following day. I had immediate feelings of rejection and loneliness when she told me that today she was hanging out with Linden, tomorrow she was making plans with her divorced parents, and Monday she was spending time with Nick. I really didn‟t like Nick and Linden. Sarah and I have been friends since kindergarten, but we had a monstrous fight a few months ago and haven‟t been the same since. ~ 36 ~

Samantha Steele

It all started with my new friend, Ali. At homecoming, Sarah met Ali for the first time and told me she hated her. I didn‟t really mind; I only hung out with Ali during gym, and once we‟d gone to a movie, but that was really it. But then Sarah found out that Ali had horses, and, within a week, the two were best friends and Sarah spent more time with Ali than she did with me. Normally I wouldn‟t have cared that much, but I knew deep down that Sarah was just using Ali to feed her horse addiction. Sarah used to have horses, but she had had to sell them when they became too expensive to take care of. Then Sarah started to become a real obnoxious wench. Her date to homecoming, Nick, ended up liking me instead of her. I sort of liked him, too, until I realized his true nature (he was just a big jerk). We both started keeping secrets from each other, and our meetings became these acidic conversations of agony. After a few weeks, I simply stopped talking to her. Sarah of course played the "I don‟t know what‟s going on" card, but I knew that she knew what was happening between us. We both had gone about things the wrong way and shared equal fault. I had stepped over a line with Nick, even though we never actually did anything (we were just flirting, I never even touched him, but it was still wrong), and Sarah had misused Ali and made me lose trust in her words. But Annika, our other best friend, was the mediator between us. Annika brought us back together, even though the relationship was still rigid and low on trust. I still feel like I can‟t trust Sarah‟s opinion. I‟m not sure I ever should have. But while I was in Hawaii for five weeks for Christmas break, Sarah became exceedingly good friends with Linden and Nick. When I came home, I was very excited to hang out with her and Cami and Annika. But every time I tried to make plans, Sarah was already at the mall with Linden, or snowboarding at Hilltop Ski Area with Nick. Trying to get in with her was like trying to get in with the President. Actually, I think it may have been harder.

~ 37 ~

Teenagers

Even today, March 7th, I still am yet to hang out with Sarah outside of school. I’m fairly certain she doesn’t even like me anymore, and that hurts. I love her like a sister. And you want to know what else hurts? Zac hasn’t made contact with me since Thursday. Everyone is telling me to give up. I know I should, but it’s hard. I want to cry, but I’m not that attached, which is good. Now all I can think about is getting a rebound. I’d settle for almost anyone right now. I just need this beautiful, perfect, Zachary-shaped figure to leave my head.

~ 38 ~

Samantha Steele

Samantha Steele I had another fight with Sarah last night. I asked her why we never hang out anymore; she said it was awkward because we went different ways. I replied with, "Well fine. I guess since we‟re different we can‟t be friends anymore. Thanks for clearing that shit up." She never texted me back. I felt bad about it this morning. I don‟t want to lose her as a friend, and I still have to give her the presents I bought for her brithday; the Betsy Johnson earrings and the little sign I found her that says, "No Parking. Restricted Area. Members of the Sarah Fan Club only." Clever, hmm? I sent her a message this morning apologizing. I have received no reply. After that, I stretched out and started a new book; Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. Great movie. So far, book is good, too. Lately my life feels like it‟s spiraling downward at an accelerated rate. What‟s at the bottom? I don‟t know. Maybe there‟s a cushiony mattress, flowers, and people who love me. Or maybe it‟s like Dante‟s Divine Comedy; you have to pass through hell and purgatory to reach Heaven. I won‟t lie and act all "emo"; there have been some fantastic parts of this hellacious journey. For instance, I got to go to Hawaii for five weeks, and still had five A‟s and one B even without taking any of my finals. I think that‟s pretty impressive. But now my grades are clinging to high C‟s and B‟s. I have never gotten a C on my report card, and one sure as hell ain‟t going on my transcripts! But I‟m not worried. I‟ll bring them up. Some classes haven‟t even reached 100 total points yet. I‟ll fix it. No problem. What IS a problem, however, is my social life. I could be the smartest, most successful, richest, most beautiful person in the ~ 39 ~

Teenagers

world and still not be happy because I only have about three friends who talk to me on a daily basis. Taylor, Annika, and Cami. This is probably because they don‟t know me completely. They‟ve never seen me cry. Never seen me get angry. To them, I‟m just smart, funny, pretty Spam. Oh yes, Taylor calls me Spam. But it‟s not meant in a mean way. I talk to a few other people, like Mandy and Caten and Sydney, but I‟m not friends with them outside of class. Mandy and I used to be pretty good friends, but we‟ve never hung out outside of school. I miss Kristina. Kristina was my best friend two years ago. I had only known her for two years when she moved, but we were really close. We both knew each other‟s bad and annoying sides, and were okay with them. I hardly talk to her anymore. That makes me feel really bad. How could I just leave a friendship like that? But I've still got Annika. She is certainly the best friend anyone could ask for. She's always truthful, even when the truth is that your new shoes are absolutely the single ugliest thing she‟s ever seen. And that‟s what I love about her. She isn‟t girly at all. She hates dresses (well, she SAYS she hates them) but if you beg and beg and beg, you can get her to wear one as long as she gets to wear her hi-tops with it. She's my honest, outspoken friend who is always willing to hang out as long as she isn‟t grounded. And I had Kristina, too, who felt the same way, but she was really girly. I used to have this perfectly rounded group of friends; even Sarah liked me back then. And then high school came. Kristina moved. Nick came into the picture and tore Sarah and me apart. Then I went to Hawaii. I came home and the only people who actually wanted to talk to me were Annika, Cami, Taylor, and Caten. Guess who wanted to hang out? Just Annika and Cami. But they were always grounded or on vacation visiting divorced parents. ~ 40 ~

Samantha Steele

So every single day I went home, did my homework, watched The Doctors, then went down to my room (or my "hole" as my parents call it) and either played the Sims, read a book, or hugged my dogs. Now it’s Spring Break of my freshman year and the only time I’ve ever left the house was with my mom to go see Watchmen, swing by Costco, and then hit Michael’s and Brown Jug on the way home. I went into Michael’s for scrapbook embellishments; mommy went into Brown Jug for soda and wine. And at night, we have great family time: burgers, soda, wine, and Desperate Housewives on TV. Sometimes we watch movies. Last time it was Wedding Daze. But during the past six days, I’ve just sat at home wishing Zac or SOMEBODY would text me and want to go to the movies or the mall or skinny dipping or rob a casino or something other than reading, playing video games, working out, and shoving chocolate muffins down my throat. But no such luck. Sarah has "plans." Cami’s still grounded. Annika’s visiting her dad in North Dakota. Kristina’s in Georgia. Zac’s at work, but he’s not going to text me anyway. I had a dream last night that I couldn’t help myself and asked where our relationship was going. He said "No! NO! Not with you." I woke up paranoid that I’d actually texted him, but was relieved when I realized it was just a dream. It must be a sign.

~ 41 ~

Teenagers

Samantha Steele I was hurt over Zac, but not too bad. It had been a month since I'd spoken to him. I overheard Mitchell saying that Zac was at SAVE now, so obviously he must have had some problems. SAVE is basically a school for dumb kids and whores. Kids who are failing all of their classes get sent their by counselors, and girls who get pregnant usually go there, too. I'd never heard about it until Mitchell mentioned it, and then I asked Taylor. She knew all about SAVE (don't ask me why; I was afraid to ask her.) At first I was really upset that I didn't know Zac was having problems, but I feel much better now. And I sort of moved on… I think it will be a while before I like someone as much as I liked Zac. I mean, I‟d never felt that way about anything, much less a guy, and it ended up hurting me worse than ever before. I‟m not sure why I took it so hard; I mean, it‟s not like he embarrassed me really badly or something. I guess I just feel like something is wrong with me, and that‟s why he never spoke to me again. For a long time all I could think about was doing something to try and make him jealous. I even contemplated starting a relationship with Mitch. But then I figured I probably wasn‟t Mitch‟s type, and I‟m sure he‟s a good enough friend to keep away from me. Unless Zac doesn‟t care… ? But all that aside, there‟s this other boy in my Geometry class. I think I might like him, but I‟m not sure. On the up side, he‟s a freshman, too. His name is Cameron McAllister. Annika, Cami, and Krisse (Kristina) are the only friends I told about him. Cami and Annika said I only like him in retaliation for Zac. Krisse was in his Pre-Algebra class in sixth grade, which means he failed either Pre-Algebra or Algebra. Well, he at least took one of them twice. But that doesn‟t really matter. Cami thinks I only like him to get back at Zac because Cameron looks freakishly like Mitchell, Zac‟s best friend. You ~ 42 ~

Samantha Steele

see, Mitch wears plaid flannel shirts with band tees underneath them, has curly brown hair always under a hat, and wears baggy jeans and skate shoes. He has glasses, too, but he only wears them sometimes. They're actually pretty cute. Guess what Cameron looks like? All that plus a set of braces and minus the glasses. I don‟t know what draws me to him. Mitch is much cuter. Mitch has a car. Zac is by far the sexiest of them all. But they‟re all juniors, and I think I better stay away from upperclassmen… for the time being. They seem to hurt my heart a lot. So there‟s a good reason for me to like Cameron. He‟s a freshman. And he‟s a smart freshman; Zac was stupid. It‟s not that I care how smart my boyfriend is, but it‟s easier when he‟s not complaining about failing all his classes. Cameron‟s really funny. Taylor‟s friend Lacey and him talk a lot in class, but I know she doesn‟t like him, and I don‟t get the feeling that he likes her, either. That‟s good. I guess I better start being better friends with Lacey now. I talk to Lacey and Taylor a lot more. But, as nice as Lacey is, I get the feeling that she feels like I‟m intruding sometimes. I know if I asked Lacey herself that she‟d say nothing was wrong, but that‟s just because she‟s so nice. I like that about her. She‟s funny and fun to be around, even if I don‟t always get what she‟s talking about. She doesn‟t usually know, either. Another good thing about Cameron is that he thinks Dani and Kylie are too skinny. Dani and Kylie are cousins, and the same size: double zero. They‟re nice as hell, and they don‟t look like skeletons or anything, but their legs are about the width of my ankle. It‟s good to know Cameron likes a girl he can actually hold, that won‟t slip through his fingers and break when she hits the ground. That subject came up once when Lacey said she was fat. Lacey‟s a size two. She said she‟d be happy if she looked like Dani and Kylie, then Logan said they were too skinny, so they asked Cameron for his opinion. He hesitated, then said, "Kylie‟s getting there. She‟s almost too skinny. And Dani is… rather small." ~ 43 ~

Teenagers

That means he thinks they're too skinny! I do not have to be a size double zero to attract his attention! The whole conversation made me realize that I really hate people like Zac. They always make me second-guess myself. After negative events with those people, I always feel like something‟s wrong with me; like maybe I come on too strong or too obsessive. I really don‟t want to be like that. I want to be light and fun and goofy, but I get embarrassed so easily that I‟m usually silent and shy, which makes me look weird, which embarrasses me… The whole thing‟s a vicious cycle I can‟t find my way out of. I need to change, but I have such an image already built up that I don‟t know how to alter it. I need to get over my shyness, but I don‟t know how. It‟s a curse. Anybody know any counter spells?

~ 44 ~

Samantha Steele

Mitchell Mantel I am so sick of listening to Zac whine about that freshman. "She quit texting me." "It‟s because I‟m stupid." "She wouldn‟t want a boyfriend who‟s at SAVE." "I bet I couldn‟t even hold a conversation with her." I keep telling him to just talk to her, to get it over with. He won‟t listen to me. It‟s like he‟s some kind of… Clark Kent. He feels like this secret "stupid" identity of his will scare her off. What he doesn‟t get is that she doesn‟t care. I mean, she hasn‟t ever spoken to me, much less told me that she doesn‟t care, but I can tell by the way she stares longingly at his empty seat that she doesn‟t, or wouldn‟t for that matter. But Zac likes his little broken world. He says he hates it, but he refuses to get out of it. I was really hoping that Sam would be able to come through for the rest of us and break his emotional armor, get inside his head, figure things out. No such luck, thanks to Zachary Bell. And Evan? Well, he‟s having a field day with it. He‟s trying his hardest now to get Zac into some random chick‟s pants. I don‟t know why he does this. It‟s like he thinks he‟s Zac‟s teacher or sire or something; like he just turned him into a jackass and is teaching him the ways of the pimp. The worst part is that Zac isn‟t really trying to deny Evan, but he‟s not going along with it, either. He‟s just sort of going through the motions, randomly complaining about losing Sam. It‟s profoundly irritating. Then again, I can see why he‟s so torn up about it. I‟d be crying too if I‟d lost her. I can tell she‟s really upset; before the "break up" or whatever you want to call it, she dressed up a lot, you know, real girly, and curled her hair and did all that stuff that drove Zac nuts. But now she doesn‟t do anything impressive. She dresses plain. She doesn‟t curl her hair or do up her eyes. ~ 45 ~

Teenagers

She never wears that green striped shirt anymore; at least not to school. Zac loved that shirt on her. I try to ignore the urge to look at her. I hate to admit it, but Zac has excellent taste. Sam is… well… She‟s beautiful. I‟m actually a little jealous that she was crazy for Zac instead of me. I‟ve thought about talking to her a few times, but decided against it. I was sitting in Zac‟s old seat for a while, so I could talk to Austin easier, but I decided to move over so she couldn‟t look at me, and so I wouldn‟t be tempted to look at her, either. As hot as she is, I still couldn‟t bring myself to do that to Zac. I‟ve never seen him fall this hard for a girl. I just wish he hadn‟t blown his chance with her. Dumbass. "Hey Mitch, I‟m goin‟ on break in a few. You want to go to Carrs and get something to eat?" Zac asked me. "Sure. I‟ve still got half an hour." Fantastic. He‟s just going to complain about Sam. "So… How is she?" Zac asked me on our way over to Carrs. It‟s in the same building as O‟Brady‟s, where we‟re both waiters. "Why don‟t you ask her instead of pumping me for information? It‟s not like she‟s my best friend or something." "She won‟t talk to me." "Have you tried?" "Well, no, but I know she hates me." "God damn it, Zac! She doesn‟t hate you. As a matter of fact, I think she‟s really freaking upset over you." "Thanks for making me feel better," Zac said with a smile. I think he really thought that was meant to improve his mood. "Listen, dude, this is kind of important," I said, reaching for a bottle of Coke. "What is it?" Zac asked, uninterested. "Seriously. Don‟t freak out over it, okay?" "Yeah whatever I won‟t. What is it?" he said curiously, shaking a soda bottle at me. ~ 46 ~

Samantha Steele

"Zac, it‟s been a good while; about a month. You can‟t expect her to wait around until you grow a set of balls, okay?" "Mitchell, just get on with it!" he said, panic brimming in his tone. "Seriously, Zac, it isn‟t a big deal but I know you‟re going to freak out about it. Just relax and chill out." "Mitchell! Just tell me!" Zac shouted. Then he looked embarrassed for a moment, but no one was watching so he turned back to glare at me. "She has a boyfriend." I may as well have dropped a bomb on his head for the reaction I got.

~ 47 ~

Teenagers

Zachary Bell "She what?" I choked, gripping the neck of the bottle in my hand. "I saw them walking together. He had his arm around her waist. Then I saw them later, holding hands. She hugged him right before class," Mitchell said cautiously, glancing nervously at the glass bottle I was holding. "That doesn‟t mean they‟re together," I said. "Zac, I hate to be the bearer of bad news-" I broke the neck of the bottle. Mitch flinched and jumped back. I squeezed my knuckles tighter until the glass cut into my hand and pain shot up my arm. I shoved my way past Mitch and towards the bathroom, trying to hide my blood-gushing hand. I heard Mitchell chasing after me. "Zac, what the hell is wrong with you? You broke a bottle over her? You never even took her on a date!" "You don‟t understand!" I said angrily. "I don‟t even understand," I added more calmly. "Well reiterate it to me and maybe I‟ll make some sense of it," Mitch said, seizing my hand and pulling tiny bits of glass out of it. I hadn‟t been doing a very good job in my surge of anger. "I love her." "You don‟t even know her last name!" "I don‟t need to." "Zac, you‟re being ridiculous! If you‟re so in love with her, just call her! Text her, just do something! You have to communicate. If it makes you feel any better, she always looks a little uncomfortable with him." "That does make me feel better," I said with a smile, relaxing. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and remembered all the times she told me I was hot. I smiled again, but then winced when Mitch pulled a particularly jagged piece of glass out of my hand. "Ouch!" ~ 48 ~

Samantha Steele

"Well thank God that hurt. I was afraid you‟d taken PCP or something," Mitch said, rinsing my cuts under warm water. I bit my lip to fight the sting. "You stay here and keep this paper towel pressed down hard on it, and hold it above your heart while I go buy some bandages," he said, turning off the water and handing me a giant wad of paper towels. I did as Mitchell said, but soon my blood had soaked through the paper towels and I had to make a new wad. I wondered what the janitor would think if he saw all the bloody paper towels in the trashcan. He probably wouldn‟t think anything of it if it were the girl‟s bathroom. I laughed at that thought. And then I realized, as the pain really started to set in, what an idiot I was being. I‟d actually broken a bottle over her, all because she had moved on. I was suddenly disgusted by the sick pleasure I‟d felt when Mitchell said she looked uncomfortable with this new guy. Would she have been uncomfortable around me? She was always very shy. And then I wanted to know what he looked like. I wanted to know who he was and all about his personality. What made him a better match for her? Or did she just choose the next Joe Schmoe she saw? Visions of Sam clouded my mind again and again. Her eyes, her hair, her smile, that green striped shirt of hers; I wanted to see it all at least one more time. I didn‟t want to be stupid anymore. I wanted to leave SAVE and go back to South. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to apologize and tell her I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving her. I wanted to tell her I love her. But then I realized how ridiculous that was. I barely knew her! How could I possibly be in love with her? It‟s ridiculous! I‟M ridiculous. This whole damn situation is ridiculous. Mitchell came back about fifteen minutes later with a grocery bag of bandages, disinfectant, and painkillers. He quickly poured a stinging liquid all over my hand, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. He then coated my still bleeding hand with ointment and wrapped it in gauze and medical tape. Then he handed me four pills and ordered me to take them. ~ 49 ~

Teenagers

"Those should help with the pain and keep your hand from swelling up. Now I have to get back to work, I‟m a little late already," Mitch said, putting the rest of the supplies into the bag and handing it to me. "Thanks, Mitchell. This is going to sound a little gay, but I don‟t think I could survive my crazy life without you," I said with a laugh. Mitch smiled. "Yeah I think you would have bled to death a long time ago, buddy," he said, punching me lightly in the shoulder. "Now take this stuff and go home. Keep your hand above your heart all night until it stops bleeding, okay? Ice it if it starts to swell, but it should heal okay. They‟re only flesh wounds." Mitch went back to work and I got into my car. I looked at my bandaged hand and really felt like a true idiot. What a dumb thing to do over a stupid girl. Actually, she‟s not stupid. She‟s way smarter than I am.

~ 50 ~

Samantha Steele

Mitchell Mantel I stared into Samantha‟s eyes. She wasn‟t wearing her contacts, so they were a dull green instead of her usual, brilliant blue. She smiled at me, her teeth perfect without her braces. She bit her lower lip and stared playfully at my mouth. Then she glanced up at me through thickly coated eyelashes, sending a shockwave through my spine. I couldn‟t help myself. Despite my own personal promise not to hurt Zac, I tilted my head down and let our lips barely brush against each other. But the moment we connected, I felt something swelling in my chest; an urge to seize her arms, shove her against the wall, throw her on the floor, and tear all of her clothes off with my teeth. But she beat me to the punch line. Sam gripped my biceps tightly in her small, feminine hands and pushed me with all her force against the wall. I was shocked and pleased at the same time. Her tongue brushed gently across the edge of my bottom lip, which was ironic, because she was roughly shoving me onto my bed at the same time. I was lost in the moment of passion. She sat on top of me, hastily kissing my lips, jaw, and neck. My hands were confused at first, but eventually they found her hips and then the hem of her shirt, which I lifted up and over her head. She slid her cold hands under my flannel shirt, pulling me up to slip it off of my arms. I rolled over on top of her and quickly ripped my shirt off. Resuming kissing her, I unbuttoned her skirt and she wiggled out of it. Sitting back for a fraction of a second, I marveled at her body. It wasn‟t anything overly toned or perfectly chiseled and thin, but it was real, and she enjoyed it. She used her body to live; she didn‟t live to use it. She grinned again, biting her lower lip and twisting her legs around me. I unbuttoned my jeans slowly, savoring this moment of her radiant beauty. ~ 51 ~

Teenagers

"Wake up," she whispered, sitting up and running her long nails gently across my jaw. "Wake up, Mitchell," she whispered again, her voice enticing and seductive. Her lips found mine again, and between breaths she would whisper, "If you don‟t hurry up you‟re going to be late." Thinking she wanted it really fast, I tore off my boxers and started to dig in my drawer until a male voice shouted, "Holy fuck Mitch! Wake the hell up!" My eyes snapped open like a light switch. Zac was standing above me, shielding his eyes with his hand. "What the hell were you dreaming about? Cover yourself, dude!" I stared down at myself, covered with only a fleece blanket Mrs. Bell must have thrown over me the night before. I sat up quickly and put a pillow in my lap. "I don‟t remember," I lied. "Well maybe I should crash on the couch more often if it‟ll give me dreams like that," Zac said, laughing at me a little uneasily. "You sure you don‟t remember?" "Do you really want all the details?" "Yeah," he said eagerly, sounding too much like Evan. "I was just about to get some." "From who?" "Uh, I don‟t remember. Some freshman, I think I‟ve seen her around school a few times or something." "What does she look like? She‟s got to be hot if she‟ll do… you know, that to you." "Yeah, she‟s okay I guess. Dark hair, green eyes." "Nice." I was a little confused by my dream. I didn‟t think I was that interested in Sam, but I supposed either my mind was playing tricks on me, or I was pretty infatuated with her. And what was up with her having green eyes? Her eyes are blue. I knew I couldn‟t tell Zac. It would kill him, and he‟d be mad at me for having dreams about sleeping with her. I hoped I hadn‟t moaned her name or well, even moaned at all. Now THAT would be embarrassing, especially if Mrs. Bell heard me! ~ 52 ~

Samantha Steele

"Hey hot stuff. How was your night last night?" Lily asked, bouncing down the stairs in a surprisingly decent outfit. "I don‟t know what you‟re talking about," I said, suddenly becoming very interested in my bowl of Rice Krispies. "Oh I think you do… All those „happy‟ dreams you had last night? I must have heard you six or seven times!" No way! She couldn‟t have! I was quiet! Wasn‟t I? "Suck it, Lily," Zac said, throwing the now empty Rice Krispies box at her. "I get paid to dance," she snapped. "Now if you two will excuse me, I have some business to attend to." "Yeah, some business in the brothels," Zac said as soon as the door closed behind her. I laughed and took another bite of my cereal.

~ 53 ~

Teenagers

Macy Hawskins "Hey Mitchie!" I said, sliding my arm around Mitchell Mantel. "Hi, Macy," he mumbled. "Hi Austin," I said, scrunching my nose and giggling. "So Mitch, Evan‟s having another party tonight! What time are you going to pick me up?" "I can‟t go, Macy. I have to work. I don‟t like Evan anyway. You know that." "But I was really looking forward to being with you tonight," I said sadly, slipping my hand under his flannel shirt and around his waist. "Well, sorry, I guess you‟re going to have to play with Evan instead." Mitchell suddenly jerked away and shoved me off of him. I watched him glance nervously at a girl with dark hair and carefully watch her as she passed. She never even looked at him. "Who‟s that?" I snapped. "Who‟s who?" he asked, looking confused and blushing a little. "That girl you just looked at. Do you like her?" I asked angrily. "She‟s just a freshman in my computers class. She likes Zac," he defended. "Well, she better only be interested in Zac because no little freshman slut is going to take you away from me!" "I‟m not yours to steal from, Macy Hawskins," Mitch snapped. "I‟ve been fighting for your affection since sixth grade! I think I‟m in line in front of her!" What‟s wrong with him? I‟m so much better than all the girls other here. "I‟m not a piece of meat," he said acerbically. I watched him shove Austin out of the way and disappear into the mass of people. "What‟s his problem?" ~ 54 ~

Samantha Steele

"I don‟t know. I‟d choose you over her," Austin said hopefully. I feel sorry for him. Since grade school, Austin‟s been literally obsessed with me. He always tells me how pretty I am and how lucky guys are when I like them. It burns him up inside that I‟m in love with Mitch. But how can I not be? Mitchell Mantel is the sexiest man alive. He has this rough-edged appeal I can‟t get enough of. I don‟t even mind his dirty hair or nasty little goatee. I‟m always trying to get him to like me, but never succeed. I can‟t understand why he doesn‟t like me. Evan and I have a little "relationship," but it mostly consists of making out and drunken sex. We‟re fine dating other people. But it does bother Evan that I always want Mitch. Actually, it bothers all the guys that I want Mitch. I think most of them are jealous of him. That‟s one of the reasons I like him. He always manages to make the other guys jealous. The truth is that Mitch and I are perfect for each other. All the girls want to get with him, and all the guys want to get with me. We‟re like, the two most popular people at South! I‟m the school slut and he‟s the school hottie. But for some reason he actually can resist me. Austin isn‟t ugly; he‟s just not old enough. He‟s only sixteen and still a sophomore. I only date juniors and seniors so they can take me to prom. Even as a freshman and sophomore, all of my "boyfriends" were upperclassmen. I might think about Austin next year. He does have a nice body. "Macy?" "Yeah?" "I was wondering if you… Well, maybe… I have this gift certificate… I mean, no I don‟t, I just got paid and I was thinking we could go out tonight?" Austin stuttered. "Go out? Like on a date?" He nodded. Ugh. I was really hoping he wouldn‟t ever ask me that. "Well… Evan‟s party is tonight-" "We could go together?" he suggested excitedly. I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling. ~ 55 ~

Teenagers

"I guess maybe you could pick me up, but it isn‟t a date," I said. "At least if you‟re driving, I can drink. A lot." Austin grinned and said he had to get to class. I flashed him a fake smile and headed out to my car to skip class. I drove home and fell asleep on the couch. I slept for about five hours until Austin called me. "Hello?" I answered sleepily. "Hey Macy. It‟s Austin. I was just wondering if you're ready yet?" "Ready for what?" I groaned. "Evan‟s party." "Oh. Right. Give me an hour, okay?" "Sure. I‟ll pick you up in a bit!" I drug myself off of the couch and into the shower. I piled my wet, blonde hair on top of my head with a butterfly clip and donned my shortest skirt and lowest-cut top. I wasn‟t going to do anything with Austin, but I could at least drive him nuts.

~ 56 ~

Samantha Steele

Zachary Bell "Look at Macy," I said through a mouthful of really cheap beer. Evan followed my finger, which was pointing at Macy and Austin. He started laughing hysterically. Macy was walking in front of Austin, her perfectly shaped blonde head held high. She walked with far too much confidence, throwing her hands to the side, encouraging people to move for her while she made a beeline straight for us. Austin was eagerly walking behind her, making a complete fool out of himself. Although we couldn‟t hear him, we could see his lips moving frantically, most likely trying to get Macy away from Evan. When Macy finally stood in front of us, she reached up to the back of her head and unclipped her shiny blonde hair, shaking it out around her shoulders. It looked a little wet. "Great party, Evan," she said, tilting her head to the side and sticking out her hip. I suppressed a laugh. "Thanks," Evan replied, his gaze transfixed on her body. I wished I could see what he saw. To me, Macy looks like she hasn‟t eaten in weeks. Sometimes, when we‟re all at the mall or something, I have the strong urge to cram a whole cake down her throat and then watch her closely for twenty-four hours so she can‟t puke it up. It was obvious that Macy had come here with Austin, but she didn‟t even try to be nice to him. About five minutes after they arrived, Macy and Evan went upstairs. I didn‟t see them again until Monday. "Well, there‟s always next year," Austin sighed, watching Macy get chased up the stairs by Evan. "You‟re finally giving up?" I asked. "Yeah. Well, I‟m going to try at least." "Good for you, Austin. Macy‟s not worth it anyway. She‟d never be faithful to you, and she‟s in love with Mitch… If she can love, I suppose." ~ 57 ~

Teenagers

"Well, what about you and that freshman? She‟s smart, right? Andrew and Katie said they were in her Biology class." "Whoa, whoa! Nothing is going on between us, okay? I‟m almost eighteen, she‟s only fifteen, see?" "So? You guys just can‟t do it for a few months. There‟s no law against dating her." "Just drop it!" I snapped, a little nastier than I needed to be. Austin hadn‟t meant anything by it. Sam‟s just kind of a sore subject for me. I came home that night and found Lilith on the couch with somebody. He looked like an Abercrombie model. That thought was reinforced when I found an entire Abercrombie outfit – complete with underwear – strewn across the living room floor. I quietly snuck up the stairs with a disgusted look on my face. She could at least take him upstairs into her room. I laid down on my bed and stared at my boring white ceiling. I looked around my plain room, contemplating my bland lifestyle: cheap car, unglamorous job, no girlfriend, a whore for a sister… was there anything interesting about me? Closing my eyes to shut out my life, I imagined what I would be like if I was involved with Sam. Smiling, I thought of her dark curls and darkly tanned skin. I relived all the times I‟d spoken to her, relishing each memory. God I really like this girl! I soon fell asleep. I dreamt about talking to her, then kissing her, being with her. My subconscious thought up so many different scenarios… both good and bad. My dream was sharp and real. So real, in fact, that I could smell her perfume and feel her hand entwined with mine. Sam was standing next to me, holding me. We were outside, walking on a dirt bike path. There were trees all around us, and a fast-flowing river to my right. I heard birds and the scuttles of tiny woodland creatures, but we were the only humans there. Sam was talking, but I couldn‟t hear her. I could only feel her body pressing against mine. She suddenly stopped and turned to look at me, love in her eyes. ~ 58 ~

Samantha Steele

"I‟m so glad we‟re together," she said. "I love you, Mitchell Mantel." And she kissed me, full French so that my body shook. My eyes snapped open. My heart was pounding angrily. Why the hell had I just dreamt that I was Mitch?

~ 59 ~

Teenagers

Samantha Steele A few days ago, this guy named Paxon asked me to be his girlfriend. I was still into Cameron, kind of, but that didn't seem to be going anywhere. So I said yes. It wasn't like he was a stranger; I mean, we were both best friends with Cami. He wasn't the most attractive guy in the world, but… well, I was weak, okay? As I left Paxon‟s arms, I felt his warm lips touch my neck in a very light, secretive way. I knew it was driving him nuts that I hadn‟t kissed him yet, and he must know that I was avoiding doing so. Every time he got close to possibly kissing me, I turned away. He had to have noticed it by now. I'm not sure what‟s wrong. Paxon is very sweet and he‟s cute enough and I should be happy. I mean, I‟ve wanted a boyfriend all year and here one is, all in love with me and holding me all the time, but I still don‟t feel like it‟s real. And I don‟t mean that in a good way. Ever since he asked me out, I feel constantly stared at and judged; even though it‟s only been four days. Today after Paxon failed yet again to kiss me, I got on the monstrosity known as the school bus and was bombarded with questions. "How long have you been dating that guy?" "Who is he?" "Does he do drugs?" "Have you made out yet?" "Does he kill people?" "Have you made out yet?" When I asked why everybody wanted to know about me and Paxon, Joey replied, "Because we never see you with a guy." Internally, that hurt. It hurt because it‟s true. When he isn‟t with me, I feel like things are going to work out. When I‟m not looking him in the eyes, I feel like he‟s great. ~ 60 ~

Samantha Steele

But when he IS there, staring into my eyes, I feel severely uncomfortable. When Zac used to watch me, I‟d swell with excitement and think he was marveling at my beauty. When Paxon watches me, I KNOW he‟s marveling at my beauty, but it still makes me uncomfortable. It shouldn‟t, but it does. Deep down I know that Zac and I will never be, that I scared him off by getting so close and well, clingy, and I accept this. I let him go, but I still think he‟s beautiful, beautiful beyond all imaginable reason. He‟s inhuman. If all the attractive people in the world were Greek gods, Zac would be Zeus. He‟d be the ruler of them all, the most beautiful, the strongest, most charismatic and athletic. Mitch, of course, would come in a close second as Poseidon, god of water. You see, Zac is the pure, innocent, mesmerizing, impossible beauty. A glow always seems to emanate from him. My cheeks always flush violently when I even think he might be glancing in my general direction. He is the godlike, glowing beauty that let people know there was still good in the world. He is the small white dot on the black side of the ying yang. He is Zachary Bell. And then there is Mitchell Mantel, with his glamorous, Hollywood style gorgeousness. He is like the movie star that's always photographed because of his rugged handsomeness that never seemed to be smited. Amazing yes, but different, very different. With Zac, everything is simple but perfect. He has problems, yes, but whenever I was around him, I forgot about everything else but him. I would strain my ears to listen to his succulent voice, risk him noticing me just so I could stare at his perfectly chiseled face for a moment longer. If I was actually dating him, a smile would be permanently painted onto my face, and I‟d always be blushing, ecstatic that people were seeing me walk around with a god on my arm. If I was with Mitchell, things would be similar, but not quite the same. I would be simply excited that I was dating this movie star, and just knowing that other girls were jealous would ~ 61 ~

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keep the smile on my face. I could see myself talking for hours on end with him about snowboarding and skateboarding or his car or really whatever; he reminded me of what Terry, my older brother, was like in high school. But with Paxon… things just aren‟t like that. Everyone asks me about him, but I don‟t want to answer because I don‟t know how to answer because I don‟t feel the same way about him as he feels about me. He tells people all the time how hot his girlfriend is. He‟s already said he loves me, twice. And let me remind you again, it's been less than week! I don‟t get it. When we first met, I thought we pretty much hated each other. And now he‟s running around telling everyone he‟s dating the hottest girl in school and that he loves her. I honestly believe that if it was Zac, or Mitchell, or hell, even Cameron, that I‟d be excited about it. I don‟t quite know what it is about Paxon that makes me feel so wishy-washy, but I can‟t help but feel utterly cruel. It hasn‟t even been a week and I already want to be rid of him. When I first said yes, I didn‟t think he liked me that much. I was being selfish and sort of just wanted a boyfriend. I figured that we‟d hang out until school ended and maybe kiss a few times… and then things would just end; I‟d go off to visit my cousins and start up a relationship with the Hercules-like Ethan Gotter (one of my cousin's best friends). But now I feel like dumping Paxon would be like killing a small part of him, and I can‟t bring myself to do so. I guess I like him, I mean, I like being held and touched, but I just can‟t bring myself to say, "I have a hot boyfriend." The truth is, I had to lower my standards by a significant amount to allow Paxon into my life. He doesn‟t even hold a match flame to Zac‟s impressiveness. Zac would be the work of Michelangelo, and Paxon, a work of Picasso. Both are very good, but I'd much rather have a Michelangelo original than a Picasso. Having a relationship for the sake of having a relationship is no substitution for chemistry.

~ 62 ~

Samantha Steele

Taylor Gills Oh my god! The season finale of Gossip Girl is on tonight! I thought while staring at Caten. "Stop looking!" she said to me. "I‟m not!" I defended. Caten‟s arms were wrapped around my yearbook, shielding her signature from me. I think we were supposed to be doing something, but Alex Gaskarth is so hot and I just can‟t stop thinking about him! He's the lead singer of my favorite band, you know. "Are you done yet?" I asked Sam. She sits on the edge of table Caten and I sit at in Spanish class. She always does her homework, and it‟s devastating when she doesn‟t, because then Caten and I fail, too. But we can always count on her. "Almost," she said. Sam was dating this guy named Paxon up until third period. Then She wrote him a note and dumped him. I always thought he was kind of weird and ugly. But Alex Gaskarth is super hot! So she dumped Paxon and that really isn‟t relevant to life. You know who else is hot? Chuck Bass! He's from Gossip Girl, in case you didn't know. I am so paranoid about our geometry final. I suck at geometry. Sam‟s really good at it. I have that class with her, too. Lucky for Caten, she‟s a sophomore and already in Algebra II. "Are you done yet?" I asked Caten. "Stop looking!" "Okay, okay I‟m not looking! I like your tank top." "Thank you!" "Oh Sam, I‟m sorry about you and Paxon breaking up," Ashley said suddenly, turning to look at Sam. "What? I broke up with him!" Sam said defensively. There‟s a lot of attack and defense going on today! "Oh! That makes more sense," Ashley said. "Is he telling people he dumped ME?" ~ 63 ~

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"Oh no, I just heard it from somebody else." "Oh okay, good," Sam said, looking relieved and sitting back in her chair. "I don‟t want THAT going around." I don‟t like most of Sam‟s guys. I like Alex Gaskarth and that one guy with the lip rings. He looks like Alex Gaskarth. "Aw why‟d you break up with him?" Jori asked. "Well… he‟s just kind of annoying." "I told you," Nikki said. "I know. I should have listened to you," Sam replied. "What did he do?" I asked her. "Nothing really. He‟s just sort of… odd." We all laughed. "And I don‟t really want a boyfriend this summer. I‟m going to be really busy with work and visiting my cousins and stuff… and visiting Ethan!" "Oh! Who‟s Ethan?!" Caten exclaimed, finally handing me my yearbook back. She‟d managed to fill an entire page with random doodles and phrases. She draws Asian smiley faces. "This REALLY hot friend of my cousin‟s! Want to see?!" "You have a picture?" Caten laughed. Sam nodded and pulled a folder out of her bag. She then showed us a stack of photos, all containing the same brunette cutie. She said his name was Ethan Gotter and he was her cousin Cameron‟s friend. He has nice abs, I‟ll give her that. But he‟s not Alex Gaskarth! Or Chuck Bass… I like Chuck, too. Boys are pretty. Yes, that‟s right, I say boys are pretty, not sexy. I‟m hungry. "I have to pee so badly!" I complained. "Thanks for sharing," Sam said sarcastically, taking the pictures from me. "I‟m hungry and I have to pee really bad," I complained again. "Shut up!" Caten snapped. I leaned over to Sam and whispered in her ear, "I think Caten needs a Midol!" Then we both started giggling hysterically and Caten glared at us. ~ 64 ~

Samantha Steele

"I do not!" Oh my God! I just remembered I have a test in Biology tomorrow and I didn‟t study for it! It‟s so nasty… we‟re dissecting rats! Okay… trachea, esophagus, lungs, atria… atria… WAIT! I can‟t study! Gossip Girl is on tonight! I love Chuck Bass. I think I failed my muscles test. Thames Street I'll take you out Though I'm hardly worth your time In the cold, you look so fierce But I'm warming up Because the tension's like a fire We'll hit South Broadway in a matter of minutes And like a bad movie, I'll drop a line Fall in the grave I've been digging myself But there's room for two Six feet under the stars All Time Low is my favorite band! I love Alex Gaskarth. Wait! Biology test! Ventricle… paramecium… wait no, it‟s pericardium. Liver… wait no, I don‟t have to learn that… gluteus maximus… Hee hee! That‟s your butt! Lati-tea-me-uh-whatever dorsi… triceps? Bronchitis? "TAYLOR!" "What?!" Oh that was Sam. She was calling me. I think the bell just rang. "What are you thinking about?" "I don‟t remember." "For someone who can hardly remember how to spell her own name, you sure do think a lot." "I know."

~ 65 ~

Teenagers

Mitchell Mantel I tried to act normal, but I was shaking on the inside. I kept switching my weight from foot to foot, trying to stay comfortable. My hair felt too greasy even though I‟d washed it this morning. My jeans felt too loose. My shoes were too big, my shirt too small, my cologne all wrong for her taste. Suddenly I heard her laugh and saw her walking down the hallway talking to two of her friends. Sam was wearing a highlighter-blue denim skirt with black fishnet tights, gray Converse, and a black Guns „n‟ Roses t-shirt. I quickly stood up straight and tossed the remainder of my tic-tacs into my mouth. She smiled when she saw me. "Hey Mitch," she said with a little wave. "Hey Sam!" I choked out. I suddenly realized it was much, much harder to talk to a girl I actually liked. "What are you up to?" "Oh nothing, really. Just hanging out with Cami and Anni." "Oh, sounds like fun," I choked again. I‟d thrown so many tic-tacs in my mouth that it was burning now, my eyes turning red and everything. "Are you okay, Mitch?" Sam asked, concerned. I nodded, blinking my watery eyes. "My breath is a little too fresh," I managed to say. She gave me a funny look. "Bye," I said quickly, walking past her. "I failed, Austin," I groaned. "She probably thinks I‟m retarded." "Eh, don‟t worry about it. No offense, but if Zac can get her number, so can you. I mean, you know Zac. He‟s all… weird. But I guess she doesn‟t know about his weirdness… But it‟s pretty obvious you‟re wanted by all the girls in our grade and above… and below, for that matter-" "Okay, okay! I get it. I just have to try again." ~ 66 ~

Samantha Steele

"Well, be careful. I mean, if she does realize how wanted you truly are, she might assume you‟re some kind of player and decide you‟re not worth it. Zac is the one that needs to be taken care of. Girls like that stuff. They don‟t like to admit it, I suppose, but good girls like to have something to take care of. And Zac is totally that." "I need to be taken care of, too!" I said. Sam can play doctor with me any day. "No you don‟t! Here, let me clarify," Austin said, looking up from his astronomy homework. "I don‟t just mean „care for‟, I mean… well, Zac needs to like, be fixed. He‟s broken. With his sister and mom and his dad and all that, Zac needs someone without issues to fix his issues. Otherwise he‟ll end up with some screwed up chick who‟ll just make his life worse." "Uh, wow," I said, shocked. "That was pretty intellectual, Austin." "Yeah, it was! Must be that psychology class I‟m taking." "Okay, so Zac needs a Mrs. Fix-It, but what does that have to do with me asking her out?" "Well, Zac is the bird with the wounded wing. Sam‟s a sweet girl. She‟s going to want to help the cripple before playing with the alpha male. Now Macy just dives straight for you because she doesn‟t want a real relationship, but Sam wants someone she can actually love." "Are you saying I‟m not loveable?" I snapped. "I‟m completely loveable! I‟m freaking irresistible!" "Dude, no! You‟re not even listening to me!" Austin exclaimed, throwing his pencil down onto the table and scooting back his seat to face me. "Now listen. Be Sam for a second, here. You‟re looking out the window and see two birds-" "Enough with the wounded bird analogy!" I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Just listen! You see one bird with a broken wing and one who‟s completely perfect. So perfect, in fact, that all the other females are twittering around him. Now, which bird are you going to pay more attention to?" I glared at him. ~ 67 ~

Teenagers

"See?" he said. "She has a kind heart, so Zac is more enticing." "So, what? I need to fuck up my life a little to make her like me?" "No, you just need to show her the real you. Or the real Zac, I guess…" "What do you mean, the real Zac?" "You know what I mean." "Austin, I‟d never tell anybody about that, much less a girl he likes." "I know. But, you know, she might be safer knowing the truth." "I‟ll only tell her if she‟s in danger."

~ 68 ~

Samantha Steele

Samantha Steele Lately it seems that Mitchell has been giving me a lot of attention. He says hello every time he sees me, which just happens to be during every passing. He tried to have a conversation with me the other day, but he kept tripping over his words and acting odd. I think he likes me. That’s a good thing. Paxon still tries to talk to me, and it freaks me out. The other day I was hanging out with Cami and he tried to hold my hand. It’s like he doesn’t understand we’re not together anymore! Sometimes I wish Mitch would ask me out, or be talking to me when Paxon came around, so Paxon could see I don't really want him anymore. It may be too harsh to say I never did. It was late April, time for guys to be asking girls to Prom. Since I was an underclassman, I was only permitted to go to Prom if asked by an upperclassman. I was hoping Mitch would ask me, but that blonde girl named Macy always seems to be on him, so I think he‟s going with her. I don‟t know anything about her; only that she looks like she desperately needs to eat. Cami had unwillingly gotten herself into a relationship with Jacob. He kept following her around so she started calling him her official boyfriend. A constant annoyance, Jacob always starts fights with me and bugs the hell out of Cami, but she's too nice to get rid of him. "I don‟t know why you allow him to be such a jerk," I groaned one morning after a particularly gruesome argument. Cami and I were finally in World History, far away from Jacob Fastner. "I can‟t change his nature," she said, twirling her pencil. "You could change your relationship with him," I said brightly, as if it were a new idea. She glared at me. "That boy is just as infatuated with me as you were with Zac," she stabbed. "Yeah… but I‟m not mean to Zac‟s friends, and Zac is super hot," I defended. ~ 69 ~

Teenagers

"Are you suggesting that I‟m not super hot?" Cami scoffed. I laughed. "I meant Zac is the guy, and he‟s super hot. Jacob is super not." "Oh he‟s not that bad," Cami said half-heartedly. I gave her a look, and she slumped her shoulders. "Okay, so he‟s an ugly asshole. What can I do? He might kill himself if I break up with him." "You seriously think he‟d kill himself?" I asked. She nodded. "He told me he would. He seemed pretty honest," she said, drawing a picture of a bleeding heart with an arrow through it on her notebook. "Well… don‟t let that stop you. He‟s probably just asking for attention. Real suicidals are few and far between. Anyway, on a happier note, what do you think of Mitchell Mantel?" I asked, biting my lower lip. "Oh, you mean Zachary Bell‟s best friend? The guy that has been checking you out and stalking you for the last month or so? That guy?" Cami teased. I nodded vigorously. She laughed. "Well? What if he asks me to Prom?" "There is no doubt about it," Cami said, "Mitchell Mantel is the most gorgeous guy at South… probably the most gorgeous guy in the whole state, and maybe even spanning the whole country." I stared at her expectantly. "Well, if you can‟t figure out that means he‟s the best prom date there is, I don‟t know how to help you!" she snapped. "Cami, I know he‟s beautiful, but what if he‟s a player? I mean, he could have anybody… and he does know a lot of girls." "Yeah, but if he asks you, you should say YES. Just keep your usual head on and don‟t let him take advantage of you. You‟re probably smarter than he is anyway." Cami was now drawing two stick people in formalwear. She labeled them "Sam" and "Plaid." I laughed. "If I do start dating him, I‟m totally nick-naming him Plaid. He‟ll never know why." ~ 70 ~

Samantha Steele

Mitchell Mantel Ever since the dream I‟d had a Zac‟s house, I couldn‟t stop thinking about Sam. She crowded my brain during all waking hours, and she made out with me in my dreams. I started skipping keyboarding more and more often, afraid to be around her in case I fell asleep and started calling out her name. Austin didn‟t know about the dream, but he wouldn‟t have understood even if he did. I was afraid to tell Zac in case he killed me or something. You see, when Zac was fourteen, his dad went to jail… because of Zac. I know the whole truth because I was there. Back then, Lilith had just turned nineteen, and starred in some cheap porno. Unfortunately, a lot of creepy Alaskan dudes watch cheap porn. When Zac and I were little, he used to get really angry and violent a lot. He was kind of a shrimp, so he couldn‟t exactly hurt anyone, but his mom took him to a doctor, who diagnosed him with a lot of different things. Mrs. Bell couldn‟t afford the meds Zac needed, so she just resulted to "tough love," which meant when Zac got mad, he got beaten. Once, when we were twelve, Lilith brought home a case of beer. She got really drunk and passed out on the kitchen table with five beers left. Zac drank them all. When his dad got home, Zac and him had a fight over Zac‟s grades. Mr. Bell punched Zac in the face, giving him a really nasty black eye, and then put out his cigarette on Zac‟s chest – where it "wouldn‟t be seen." I knew about it because I was upstairs the whole time, and Mr. Bell didn‟t know. Zac still has the scar. So Zac had a really ugly childhood, and it all led up to the disaster of Lily‟s first porno. By the time the video was released, Lily had a job at the strip club already. One night a guy followed Lily home and broke into the Bell house some time after midnight. Lily was asleep on the couch, and Zac was upstairs with me, playing video games. The guy broke in and found Lily on the couch, then proceeded to begin raping her. ~ 71 ~

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Zac and I heard her screams from his room, and Zac ran into his parent‟s empty bedroom to get his father‟s gun. I called 911 while Zac ran downstairs. I had just given the operator Zac‟s address when I heard a car pull up, and then a gunshot and a lot more screaming, mostly from Lily. The operator asked me what was going on, but I dropped the phone. I heard Zac‟s dad yelling at him, and then I heard the smacking of Mr. Bell beating his son yet again. Lily was still screaming until I heard a crack and a thud, and she was silenced. I assumed Mr. Bell had knocked her out. Panicking, I hid under Zac‟s bed. I‟d been around when Mr. Bell hit Zac, but I‟d never seen or even heard of him hurting Lily. When the cops came, Mr. Bell was arrested, no questions asked. Zac had shot and killed the man trying to rape Lily. When Mr. Bell got home, he was utterly furious; but he still loved his son, so he gave Lily a black eye, wiped Zac‟s fingerprints off the gun and replaced them with his own, and coached the whole family, including me, on lying to the cops. We found out later that the guy was high. He admitted to having seen Lily's porno, and when he saw her at the strip club and decided he had decided that he needed to have her. Things were never the same after that. Zac suddenly had a real relationship with his father (well, as real as a relationship with a Bell can be), and his mother began crying and apologizing for beating him almost every time she saw him. Lily kept her job as a stripper, but she quit doing pornos, and their family became as close to normal as it would ever be. So that was Zac‟s big, scary secret: he killed a man, a crime of passion. Turned out the guy was a convicted rapist on multiple accounts and probably deserved to die, but the whole incident really changed Zac. It made him a serious introvert. So that‟s why I was so afraid of liking his girl. I loved that guy like he was my brother, and after all he‟d been through, I couldn‟t bear to hurt him. But… he just left Sam. Why shouldn‟t I go after her, as long as he‟s truly finished?

~ 72 ~

Samantha Steele

"So how are things in normal high school?" Zac asked me. We were having burgers and chili fries downtown. "Well, that‟s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," I said. Zac looked at me curiously, a greasy French fry hanging out of his mouth. "It‟s about Sam." "What about her?" Zac asked calmly. He seemed genuinely chill, not the forceful calm he usually had when she was brought up. "Are you going to do anything about her? I mean, are you still interested in her? Or are you done with that?" Zac leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. "I need to move on. Clearly she did, and I was being stupid. So… yeah… I‟m finished." "Uh, wow," I said, eyes wide. "I wasn‟t expecting you to say that, really." "Well, I think it‟s time I grew up. I don‟t want to turn out like my parents." Zac looked out the window at the street. He sighed and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. He said he was over her, but was he, really? "I want her," I said flatly. Zac turned to look at me, slowly. My palms started to sweat and I felt heat rising in my cheeks. "You… want her?" he asked, more curious than angry. I nodded. "You‟re really interested in her?" "I don‟t know her, but yeah. I am," I said, relieved Zac wasn‟t angry. Zac stared at me sternly. "Can I trust you?" he asked, his tone firm. "Yes," I said. "You can trust me, Zac." Zac took a deep breath and nodded. So there it was. I had permission.

~ 73 ~

Teenagers

Zachary Bell I stared at Mitch. I‟d just given him permission to date the only girl I‟d ever liked. But he was right. I had to quit pitying myself and simply let her go. I didn‟t have the confidence to ask her out, not after all this time, so why should I keep Mitch from liking her? I knew why. Mitch always got what I wanted. It didn‟t seem fair for him to be so damn lucky. Of course, I guess on his side Sam must be incredibly enticing. She‟s the only girl I‟ve ever known who didn‟t seem openly interested in Mitchell Mantel. "Just don‟t do anything I wouldn‟t do," I said, starting to eat again. Mitch laughed. "Okay, I‟ll make note of that. Only ask her for her phone number." "Okay, never mind," I said. "You‟re not Evan. I trust you." "I hope you wouldn‟t let Evan after her, not that he would bother asking you," Mitch said seriously. "He wouldn‟t listen if I told him not to. But you know Evan. He was screwing college girls back in the eighth grade," I said. Mitch shook his head in disgust. "I‟m Zac, I‟ll be your waiter for tonight," I said. I was waiting on a really ugly guy and a tiny girl with what looked like a deflated Mohawk. She wore very little make-up and a silky green dress. I recognized her as one of Sam‟s close friends. "Oh, hi!" the girl said. "I‟m Sam‟s friend Cami." "Hi," I replied with a weak smile. "Can I get you something to drink?" "Sure," she said happily. "I‟ll have a coke." After giving her date a strange look (he was viciously glaring at me) she said, "and he‟ll have one, too." I nodded and walked behind the counter to the soda machine, in the front left corner of the restaurant. Cami‟s table was very close, but their backs were to me. Since it was after the ~ 74 ~

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lunch rush but before the dinner surge, there were few people in the restaurant and it was quiet. If I strained my ears, I could hear their conversation. "We might as well leave," the guy was saying. "Oh my God, just shut up," Cami said, anger brimming in her tone. "It‟s not like we‟re double dating with them, okay? Zac is actually very nice, and Mitch just asked Sam out, remember? She asked Mitch if Zac was okay with that, and he said Zac „gave him permission,‟ so Zac‟s probably hurting a little!" I was slightly angered by the fact that Cami felt like she could claim what my emotional state was, but I was more frustrated at the fact that she was right. "I don‟t want to be around anyone she likes," the guy droned. "She likes me, asshole," Cami snapped. I decided it was time to bring their drinks. When I came over, Cami shot her date a warning glare and thanked me. "Are you ready to order?" I asked. Cami nodded. "I‟ll have a Caesar salad and the fettuccini Alfredo with chicken," she said. I wrote that down. "And you, sir?" I asked, feeling a little weird calling a guy younger than me "sir." The guy looked at me for a second, then a disturbing expression crossed his face and he started rattling off his dinner order faster than I could comprehend it. "I‟ll have the house salad, but with cashews instead of almonds, and balsamic vinegar and olive oil instead of your house sauce, and I want spinach instead of lettuce. And I want the onion soup, but I don‟t want pieces of onion in it, and I want cheese bread on the side instead of crackers. I want the French dip, but I don‟t want the dip and I want Swiss cheese on one side only. I want stir-fried onions and peppers on it, too, and I want a mix of honey mustard and garlic mayonnaise in a small dish on the side. Actually, I want that heated up and in the onion soup so I can dip my sandwich in it. And I want mashed potatoes instead of fries, but I want the skins in the potatoes and I want ranch and cheddar cheese mixed in. That‟s all." I stared at the guy, my mouth slightly agape. Then I let a smug smile slide across my face. ~ 75 ~

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"So, in other words," I said rudely, "you want the cashew salad and an American dip with honey mustard and garlic mayonnaise?" The boy stared at me, shocked. "The cashew salad is the house salad with a different dressing, cashews, and spinach. Our American dip is a hot roast beef sandwich with stir-fried onions and peppers on toasted Swiss cheese bread. You dip it in onion broth. It comes with mashed potatoes, which we make with the skins in it and cheddar cheese. The only thing you added was the honey mustard and garlic mayonnaise." "Um, yeah," the boy choked, clearing his throat. "I‟ll have that right up," I said. I walked back to the kitchen and slapped the order onto the order wheel. "First bastard of the day," I called to Rufus, the chef. "Leave the Caesar salad and the fettuccini alone, though." Cami was polite. "You got it, Zac," Rufus said, his tone thrilled. Mitch walked up and slapped his order next to mine. "You always get stuck with the assholes," he said. We looked at each other. "Don‟t fuck with people who handle your food!" we quoted. Waiting is our favorite movie, since it‟s so true. Roaring with laughter, Mitch and I both went back to finish waiting our tables. Ten minutes later, I was still chuckling from my little joke with Mitch. I‟d already delivered Cami and her date their salads (her date‟s with a little extra "dressing"), which was good because the dinner surge was finally starting, and Mitch‟s section was filling up. Mine was still fairly slow, so I started helping close up some tables in Mitch and Allie‟s sections. Allie is one of our waitresses, and she usually keeps the same hours Mitch and I do because she‟s a senior. I was taking someone‟s credit card to the register, which is by the soda machine, when I decided to listen in on Cami and her date again. I caught them in the middle of a heated discussion. "I hope he spits in your food!" Cami growled. "You had no right to speak to him that way, and you have no right to speak about Sam that way, either!" ~ 76 ~

Samantha Steele

"Oh, will you just drop it? She‟s not here, and he‟s not going to spit in my food." I laughed to myself. Yeah, I’m not going to spit in your food, but I can’t speak for Rufus. "Look, I don‟t care what you think about her but she‟s my best friend and I refuse to listen to you talk shit about her." "She‟s trying to close you off from me!" the boy cried, causing a few people to stare. He lowered his voice so I had to strain even harder to hear. "She wanted to double with Mitch tonight." "Uh, yeah, because it was his idea and they‟re both nervous. Duh," Cami scoffed. "How is asking for a double date trying to keep us „closed off‟ from each other? And you should be ashamed of yourself! They broke off having a date at all because of you. Look, Mitch is working tonight." "She doesn‟t want us alone! She always has to be supervising." "Oh my God, that‟s the most ridiculous thing you‟ve ever said. She just didn‟t want to be alone with Mitch yet, she barely knows him! I wish we had doubled! Then maybe Mitch could've beaten some sense into you when you were being a jackass." Realizing I was taking too long with the credit card, I brought it back to the table and went to wait on a new set of customers. I was glad Sam had good friends who would stand up for her behind her back. On the other hand, I wondered what the hell Cami was doing with that loser, and why hadn‟t Mitch told me he‟d asked Sam out already? "Here ya go," Rufus said, proudly presenting me with a plate of steaming fettuccini and a cold sandwich. "Rufus, the American dips are supposed to be hot," I said. Rufus looked at me, concerned. "I thought you said I could have my way with it?" I sighed. He was right, I had said that. "I already screwed with the salad, so I just left this cold," he said. Rufus knew I didn‟t really enjoy messing with peoples‟ food unless they really ticked me off. When I dropped off the food, I asked if there was anything else they needed. ~ 77 ~

Teenagers

"Damn straight there‟s something else I need," the guy said. "I thought this was a hot sandwich, and I need a refill." I took his cup and refilled it, but with root beer. "Anything else?" I asked. "Uh, hello, I thought this was a hot sandwich?" the guy asked. I looked at him with a confused expression. "I can‟t change your memory," I said. "But that‟s the sandwich you ordered. Is there something you want me to do? Perhaps I could eat it for you and tell you how good it tastes?" The guy glared at me. I could tell Cami was suppressing the urge to laugh. She seemed to be enjoying her food. "I want you to heat it up," her date growled. "And there‟s not enough soup to dip it in. I want more. And if you spit in it, I‟ll know!" "I wouldn‟t think of it," I said politely, taking the plate from him. And it was true. I never spit in the dishes. That's Rufus‟s job. "What‟s wrong with it?" Rufus snapped as I handed the plate back to him. "He says it‟s supposed to be a hot sandwich, and he says there‟s not enough soup," I said. Rufus stuck his finger in the soup. "The soup is hot! See, there‟s steam! Why does he care if the sandwich is cold? And not enough soup for dipping? I‟ll give him soup for dipping," Rufus muttered. I turned my back until Rufus had finished his dirty deed, whatever it was, and returned the sandwich to Cami‟s date. Rufus had given me an entire bowl of onion soup for dipping. The bread of the sandwich was now extremely soggy, and I assumed the juices had run out of the meat when it was reheated. The guy looked at his meal with unappeased eyes. "Is that better?" I asked. He looked at me and nodded glumly. "Enjoy your meal," I said, starting to walk away. But then I stopped and turned back to him. "And, just to let you know, you would have gotten far better service on a double date. Everyone respects Mitch."

~ 78 ~

Samantha Steele

Cami turned bright red, realizing I‟d overheard at least part of their conversation. I smiled and walked away, knowing she‟d leave me a decent tip.

~ 79 ~

Teenagers

Samantha Steele "It was so funny," Cami cried, getting a soda out of my fridge. "If I didn‟t like Zac before, I totally love him now. Jake really needed that mental beating." "Cami, please, why do you choose to like Zac now? After we‟re done? Mitch is a waiter, too!" "Oh, yes, we saw him. He waved at me, but he was really busy," Cami said, sitting down at the table next to me. "I‟m sorry. I just meant that you have really great taste in guys, and I totally don‟t." "Cami, that‟s not true," I said, suddenly feeling sorry for her myself. "You just got roped into Jacob somehow… Kris was great, and, well, Devin was bad but I‟ve had my fair share of psychos, too." Cami sighed. "You‟re right. I just need to get rid of him. If he kills himself, it‟s not my fault. Maybe I‟ll tell his parents what he said. Then at least I‟ll know I tried." I looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You seriously think he‟d kill himself if you dumped him?" I asked. She nodded, then looked down at her hands. "What‟s wrong?" "Well… it‟s just something he said at dinner Friday night… something about you. It just irked me a little." "What did he say?" I asked, my voice strained with nervousness. "It‟s probably nothing. He just said he wished you were dead. So you wouldn‟t be in the way. Normally I would just brush it off… but he said it with this relishing seriousness, not the joking tone he usually uses. Like he actually meant it." Cami shuddered and cuddled my poodle to her chest. "Hey, Sam," Mitch said. It was 7:00 in the morning, and he was opening his car door to take me to school. We‟d been on enough dates to hurdle the initial awkwardness, and I supposed we were finally an official couple, but I wasn‟t sure. ~ 80 ~

Samantha Steele

"Mitchell," I said, standing on my tip toes to kiss him. He closed the door behind me and got in the driver seat. On our way to South, I told him about Cami and Jacob‟s date, only I left out the fact that Jacob wanted me dead. Mitch thought it was funny that Zac was their waiter. He said the chef probably messed with Jacob‟s food. When we got to school, Mitch opened the door for me again and led me inside. Austin was sitting at a table with a few other guys and two girls, one I recognized as Macy Hawskins. I rolled my eyes as she bit her lower lip and crossed her arms tightly in front of her, pushing her minimal cleavage into view. I disguised a laugh as a cough when I realized my boobs were a lot bigger than hers. "Hi, Mitch," she said in what I assumed was her best seductive voice. Mitch ignored her, and I smiled. "Did you finish your astronomy project?" Mitch asked Austin. I got out my notebook and began doodling absently mindedly, knowing that I had no place at the upperclassmen table. Besides, I didn‟t know anyone, and I always felt uncomfortable among Mitch‟s friends. Luckily for me, Annika suddenly came running up to the table. She slid into the seat next to me, bumping me into Mitch, who took one look at my best friend and continued his conversation with Austin. I rolled my eyes at his lack of hello. "Dude!" Annika squealed. "Joan Jett is playing at the prom!" My heart stopped. Annika was jumping in her seat and staring at me with a giant grin, waiting for my reply. I tried to choke out an answer, but I couldn‟t make any sound. The whole table quieted down, and Mitch put his hand on my shoulder in concern. "Sam? Are you okay?" he asked. I made a small choking noise. "Did you hear me?" Annika said excitedly. "Joan Jett, the Queen of Noise, is playing at OUR prom! This little hole-in-themountain of a high school is going to house the biggest female rock legend of all time!" ~ 81 ~

Teenagers

I finally found my voice. Annika and I both jumped up in unison and hugged each other, screaming and jumping up and down. "Joan Jett is playing at the prom!" I shouted. "I know!" Annika screamed. "I saw the sign just now when I walked in! 'Tickets on sale! JOAN JETT IS PLAYING THE PROM!'" My heart swelling, I whirled around to see Mitch standing up. He put a hand on my back and kissed the top of my head. "I‟m on it," he said. "Try not to burst a lung while I‟m gone."

~ 82 ~

Samantha Steele

Macy Hawskins I jealously as Mitch left to go buy prom tickets for his slutty girlfriend. He should be buying them for me. Sam and her ugly blonde friend were staring at each other with huge grins on their faces. I looked at her friend's totally unfashionable outfit: black jeans, shoes with duct-taped holes in them, and a disgusting guy‟s t-shirt with a dead rabbit on it. Sam looked a little better, with a fitted Paramore tee, a black True Blood hoodie, dark blue jeans, and a pair of brandnew looking chocolate-colored Coach tennis shoes. But none of that mattered because Sam is fat, so her butt looked humungous, and her hair was flat and boring. My hair was curled and teased into a beautiful bump on the top. I was wearing a low-cut pink tank top with a silver shrug that brought out my deep brown eyes. I had on a short, silky skirt and hot pink pointed-toe heels. I looked, well, absolutely fabulous. "You know," I said loud enough for the girls to hear me, "only Sam can go to the prom. Nobody asked her friend there." I feigned sympathy as I let the news sink in. The blonde girl‟s face fell so fast it nearly hit the floor. Sam glared at me and then put her hands on the girl‟s shoulders. "We‟ll get someone to ask you, Anni," Sam said. "Mitch has a lot of friends. You don‟t even care about a real date, right?" Anni shook her head. "Exactly. You WILL go, and so will Cami!" Anni seemed to brighten a bit, but she still looked pretty down. I smiled to myself. I‟d done my bad deed for the day. "Would you go to prom with me?" I opened my mouth so wide my gum fell out. My eyes darted from the speaker to Anni, taking in all the incompatibility. "Um, sure!" Anni said brightly. "Do… do you know anyone that would take Cami?" "Sure. I know some people." "What the hell!" I cried. "Evan!" ~ 83 ~

Teenagers

Evan looked at me with is usual glare. "Yes, Macy?" "What… why?" I breathed, too shocked to yell anymore. Evan shrugged and looked at Anni again. "Shall I go buy our tickets?" he asked. "Uh, sure, but I‟ll pay you back! This isn‟t really a date. You shouldn‟t have to pay for me," Anni said quickly. Evan shook his head. "It‟s no problem," he said. "What‟s your full name? I have to tell them." "Annika Dixon. Wow, um, thanks!" Evan patted her shoulder when he walked by, following Mitch. I was still staring with my mouth agape. What was he playing at? I know we‟re not officially dating or anything, but I always assumed Evan would take me to prom, unless I was going with Mitch. I came home and threw my book bag angrily onto my bed, then slid into my computer chair and signed onto Facebook. I changed my status to some rude comment about girls who like Joan Jett, then went to Mitch‟s page to sift through his photos. He had a new album titled "Hanging at the Wharf." I knew that his uncle owned a fishing boat, and Mitch spent a lot of time downtown at the wharf, especially during the summer. The first picture was of Sam in a black windbreaker with a gray sweatshirt underneath, the wind blowing her hair into her face, which was twisted into smile. The second picture was of her and Mitch, laughing. They were eating hamburgers and fries, and it looked like they were inside the boat. I closed the internet browser in a jealous rage and went into my bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I lifted up my shirt to look at my stomach. It was creamy white, and perfectly flat and smooth. I heard Sam had her bellybutton pierced, and I knew that her nose was pierced. Maybe that‟s what I was missing. I went into my mom‟s room and got out her sewing kit. I grabbed the largest needle I could find and poked my fingertip with it to test its sharpness. I gasped when I drew blood and stuck my finger in my mouth, satisfied. ~ 84 ~

Samantha Steele

When my mom was sixteen, a year younger than me, her best friend Annie had a "piercing party" for her birthday. Annie‟s mom got a bunch of needles and pierced everybody‟s ears and bellybuttons. In recent years, my mom had let her bellybutton piercing grow over, but, to my severe happiness, she hadn‟t thrown away the rings. I took the needle, one of my mom‟s belly rings, and a piece of wire from my dad‟s toolkit into the kitchen. I boiled some water on the stove, lit a candle, and got some ice out of the freezer. Standing in front of the mirror in the downstairs bathroom, I took a sharpie and made a little dot above my bellybutton so I‟d know where the put the needle. Using a pair of tweezers, I held the needle in the candle flame until it turned black, and then dipped it into the boiling water until the black stuff came off. Satisfied, I laid the needle on a paper towel and held an ice cube on my bellybutton until it became numb. Taking a deep breath, I put the needle on the black dot. I felt a little pinch and almost chickened out, but then I remembered the prom and the anger flowing through me outbid the pain. I cried out as I stabbed the needle through, but I managed to pull it all the way to the other side, and fairly straight, too. I took another deep breath and tried to ignore the blood droplets as I shoved the belly ring through the hole. It hurt more because the gauge of the ring was bigger than that of the needle, but I managed to do it. I ran into the bathroom to admire my work. The silver ring was very simple, with a silver ball on top and a diamond on the bottom, but it looked good. Extremely confident in my piercing skills, I ran back into the kitchen to re-sterilize my needle and get more ice for my nose.

~ 85 ~

Teenagers

Mitchell Mantel I was leaning against Evan‟s car, fury burning inside me. Normally I would have taken Sam home, but I enlisted Austin to do so today so I could confront Evan. This morning, Evan had asked Sam‟s best friend Annika to prom. I was repulsed. Neither Sam nor Annika had been at school long enough to know Evan‟s reputation, so I didn‟t blame her for saying yes. Evan wasn‟t usually a follower of rules, but he wasn‟t one to break the guy code (unless Macy was involved). I had made it very clear when I first started dating Sam that Evan was to stay away from her and her friends. "Hey, Mitch," Evan said brightly when he saw me. I wanted to start shouting at him, but I couldn‟t. I was surprised. Evan was grinning, full-on, showing-his-teeth-in-a-friendlygesture grinning! "Hey, I was thinking maybe you wanted to split the cost of a limo with me and Bryce? He‟s a senior, and he offered to take Cami since he and his girlfriend just broke up. His uncle knows the owner of one of the limo companies in town and –" "What are you playing at?" I snapped, cutting him off. Evan looked at me, genuinely hurt. "What do you mean? We‟d split the cost evenly. I‟m not trying to rip you off," he said. I shook my head. "No, I mean why did you ask Annika to prom?" Evan looked uncomfortable. "Well, she really wanted to see Joan Jett," he said. "And I needed a date, and she‟s a freshman so she can only go if an upperclassman asks her, so… it seemed appropriate." "Since when do you care about what‟s appropriate?" I scoffed. "Why didn‟t you just ask Macy?" "Macy doesn‟t care about Joan Jett," Evan said, rolling his eyes. "Annika really wanted to go. Aren‟t I allowed to do something nice once in a while?" I stared at Evan, wondering what his plan was. He couldn‟t possibly have asked her just to be nice; I wouldn‟t even ~ 86 ~

Samantha Steele

do that. The only other option was… he actually liked her. The more I thought about it, the more it actually made sense. When Zac first started liking Sam, Evan tried as hard as he could to turn Zac off to her. Could he have been doing that because he didn‟t want to be involved in the relationship? Because he was interested in Annika? "You like her, don‟t you?" I asked curiously. Evan snorted. "I do not. She‟s too young." He coughed a little nervously. "I‟m almost eighteen, remember?" "You do!" I cried. "You like a freshman!" I began laughing uncontrollably. "So do you!" Evan snapped. I straightened and calmed my laughter a bit. "So you admit it?" Evan‟s eyes widened a little and he glared at me. The glare was shockingly refreshing. "Alright, fine. I like Annika, and I did before Zac and Sam ever even met, okay?" "You didn‟t even know her," I snorted. "Yes, I did. I met her a few times at local band shows. My uncle knows a lot of people in the business, so I go to all the metal shows. I‟ve liked her for a while." "You go to metal shows?" I asked in disbelief. "There‟s a lot about me nobody knows," Evan said with a laugh. "Yes, I go to metal shows. I‟m also a kick-ass bass player and I‟ve never had sex." "What?" I stared at Evan in disbelief. "But… Macy talks about it all the time! You have the biggest reputation in the whole school! I hate you because of the way you treat women!" "Macy is a whore," Evan said. "I‟ll admit I‟ve had my fair share of… times… with her, but she always passes out because she‟s hammered. I‟ve never actually slept with her, but she always thinks we did. I never tried to deny it, so it just sort of became my reputation." "But… you always have that evil glare," I said. "I want to be an actor," Evan said, shrugging. "I‟m good at it. I‟m glad we had this little chat, but I‟m actually in a bit of a hurry now. I have to pick up my little sister from Goldenview and ~ 87 ~

Teenagers

take her to gymnastics. I‟ll call you about the limo, though, if you want to split the cost?" "Uh, sure," I said. Evan nodded and smiled, and got into his car. I never knew he had a sister in middle school; much less that he was nice enough to take her to gymnastics. Shaking my head, I got into my car and drove home. As I was driving up the mountain to my house, I realized that Zac was an amazing judge of character. He picked out Sam, me, Austin, Evan… maybe I should trust him more often.

~ 88 ~

Samantha Steele

Evan Cage "Hey, Ash," I said as my sister opened the door of my truck and hopped in. Usually I have to pick up my little brother too, but now he plays soccer every day after school, so my mom picks him up instead. He's Ashley's twin, Jared. "Hi, Evan," she said brightly. "I got an A on my Algebra test!" "That's great, Ash! What about your history project?" "Mr. Weathers isn't done grading them yet. But he said most of them were A's and B's. I bet I did well." Ashley fished a book out of her backpack, tucked her legs up under her, and started to read. I drove her down to Arctic Gymnastics in the usual after-school silence. "I'll be back at four-thirty," I said as I pulled up in front of the renovated warehouse. Ashley smiled and said goodbye. A group of "mini-Macys" flocked to my sister like flies to garbage (not that I think my sister is garbage, I just suck at analogies) and I shook my head. Macy Hawskins is the reason I hane a bad rep. It's mostly my fault for not denying her wild stories - and continuing to make out with her - but other girls make up stories, too. At South, saying you slept with Evan Cage is like saying you had braces once: not very interesting. A few months ago, I went to a metal show (my uncle knows a lot of people in the music business, so I usually get into venues for free) and met a really great girl in the mosh pit. Okay, so a mosh pit is a strange place to meet girls, but you never know. So this girl was full-on moshing and she accidentally hit me in the nuts. I'm really tall, so I get hit there pretty often in the pits, but usually people don't even notice. But this girl did, and when I bent over she grabbed my shoulder and started laughing and apologizing. "I'm so sorry!" she shouted over the music. "You're just so tall... it's right at my elbow level." She pantomimed elbowing me in the nuts again and laughed. ~ 89 ~

Teenagers

"It's okay," I said, taking a deep breath and recovering. At first, I didn't realize I liked her. I mean, I'm used to Macy: superskinny, blonde, and chocolate-eyed, with tiny breasts and a huge attitude. But this girl had dirty-blonde hair that looked like she'd just brushed it and called it good. She wasn't wearing any makeup, not even the wild face paint fanatics usually put on for the shows. She was... simple. It wasn't until I'd talked to her at a few shows that I realized that I actually looked forward to seeing her, and it wasn't until I started seeing her at school that realized I liked her. Then the whole Sam thing happened: Zac liked her but was too wimpy to do anything about it, and then Mitch and her got together. Suddenly I had an in, and a reason to pursue the relationship. When Annika came running up to the table and screaming with excitement about Joan Jett playing the prom, I formulated my plan in about ten seconds. It was incredibly clear and easy. I knew she didn't have a date, and she needed one if she was going to see Joan Jett. I was just lucky she said yes. Macy was super pissed off. I guess she thought I was going to take her to prom or something. Like that'd ever happen. I'm actually pretty ashamed of my past with her. I don't know why I let it get so bad. I guess I just sort of liked the attention, and keeping up that intense glare all the time was a real challenge. Recently it occurred to me that I was probably going to get premature wrinkles from all that evil squinting, so I finally decided to be myself. I like being challenged. I want to be an actor, which is why I kept up the whole player façade. In the beginning, it was actually kind of fun. For a long time, it earned me a lot of respect from the other guys. Girls fawned all over me. It was pretty great. But in recent years, girls started to think I was just a jerk, and only Macy really wanted me. Mitch went to boyfriend school or something and all the girls started fawning over him instead. It kind of left me high and dry with a nasty rep, and nothing to do with it. For a long time I actually thought I loved Macy, and it hurt that she was only with me to try and make Mitch jealous. But another part of me was sickly entertained that no matter how hard ~ 90 ~

Samantha Steele

Macy tried, Mitch would never care about her more than he cared about his shoelaces. "So my uncle got us a deal," Bryce said over the phone. "We can have the limo for the whole night for six hundred bucks. Six to six he said. So I figure we go to dinner at six, hang out for a while, then hit prom at ten, stay 'til midnight, and go somewhere afterwards before we hit the hotel. By then, the girls will be ready to crash and us guys will probably be completely trashed," he laughed. "Sounds like you've worked out a decent plan," I said. "So that's two hundred for each of us?" "If Mitchell wants to share, yeah," Bryce said. "For the sake of Cami's corsage, I hope he does." "I think it might kill Sam if she couldn‟t be with Cami and Annika. Those three are nearly connected at the hips," I laughed. "Did you even ask Cami yet?" "Yeah, I did. She was pretty stoked about it, but I think that psycho boyfriend of hers is going to kill me." "Well," I said thoughtfully, "he's pretty intent on killing Sam first. You'll get a decent warning." We laughed.

~ 91 ~

Teenagers

Jacob Fastner Samantha Steele is going to die. That crazy bitch has tried to ruin my life for the very last time. It was one thing for her to be psychotically annoying, but getting a senior to ask Cami to prom? That's the lowest of the low. Sam knew Cami would say yes because she wanted to see Joan Jett. I was horrified when Cami told me that Bryce had asked her. And you know what's worse? She actually expected me to be happy for her. Happy about the fact that another guy is taking her to the most intimate dance of the year. Happy that SAM had gotten her the date. Oh, that was another thing: Cami called Bryce her "date". Not just some guy taking her to prom, but her date. She even told me he was hot. Cami has never told me that I'm attractive, much less hot. Sam has poisoned Cami's mind so much she doesn't even like me. So my solution is to eliminate the problem. I will kill Samantha Steele on prom night. It'll work out quite well, actually. Once she's dead, she can't tell Cami lies about me anymore. Cami will be in a state of emotional duress after losing her best friend (even though Sam's crazy) and she'll need me to comfort her. I can't wait. This is going to be so liberating. "I am just so excited!" Cami said. We were sitting at the upperclassmen lunch table, eating with Sam, Mitch, Annika, and Evan. Sam and Mitch were giving each other these disgusting sex looks, and Annika was red-faced because Evan was rubbing her shoulders. "So am I!" Sam said, suddenly breaking eye contact with Mitch. Although I can't vouch for his taste in women, Mitch is really awesome. He's very intelligent, and all the girls want him. He's totally funny in a very dry way. I don't think he likes me ~ 92 ~

Samantha Steele

very much, whether that's because I'm an underclassmen boy or because I hate his girlfriend, I don't know. "I wish we could pay for backstage passes or something," Annika said. "I'd love to meet Joan Jett." "I could probably get you girls something," Evan said, his arm around Annika, pulling her closer. "You know my uncle's got big buddies in the business." The three girls looked at him in awe. "Could you really get us a chance to meet Joan Jett?" Sam asked, her eyes wide. Evan nodded with a lopsided grin. "I'm pretty sure I can. She'll probably be staying in my dad's hotel." "Your dad owns a hotel?" everyone, including me, asked in unison. Evan nodded nonchalantly. "It's that big silver one downtown, overlooking the marina," he said. "Your dad owns the Whitmeister? Seriously? That's the nicest hotel I've ever been in! And it's only three blocks from the hotel that's hosting prom!" Mitchell said, shocked. "Do Zac and Austin know your dad owns the Whitmeister?" "No. No one except Bryce does, actually. I have my mother's last name," Evan said. "My dad is Charles Whitmeister." "That's awesome!" Annika said fondly. She looked Evan in the eyes and smiled. He pecked her lightly on the lips, and she blushed furiously. Everyone but me laughed. I scowled, angry Cami wouldn't let me kiss her in public like that. Mitchell started asking Evan questions about his dad, and Annika kept interrupting with oohs and ahs. "Can we please talk about something other than you?" I drawled, bored with the conversation. Cami elbowed me in the ribs, and I tried to cover it up by putting my arm around her. She shrugged me off with a glare. "Don't touch me!" she snapped. "I'm sick of you thinking you own me. Why don't you just leave?" I stared at Cami, the love of my life. I felt like she'd just ripped my heart out and sent it through the paper shredder. My pain was enhanced severely when Bryce came over and tapped Cami on the shoulder. "Mind if I join?" he asked. Cami looked at me. ~ 93 ~

Teenagers

"Of course," she said. "Jacob was just leaving. You can have his seat." When I didn't move, Evan gave me a good, hard shove in the shoulder and I fell out of my seat. Bryce quickly sat down in my place and the whole table erupted in excited talk about prom. I realized then that Cami truly didn't love me, and it finally hit me that she never would, either. I wasn't part of her group. Cami and her girls dated upperclassmen because they could go to prom, get drunk, and see Joan Jett. I would never be what Cami wanted. None of her friends would ever like me. Well, you know what they say. If you can't join 'em, beat 'em.

~ 94 ~

Samantha Steele

Austin Trowser I rested my aching head on my palms and tried to remember the names of all the moons in our solar system. Mr. Bleakman was loading us up on tests right before prom. Not that I was concerned about prom. I was only a sophomore and therefore wouldn‟t be attending. I had kind of hoped Macy would ask me, but I realized how ridiculous that was when I saw the look on her face as Evan asked Annika Dixon to prom. That really surprised me. I don't know Annika very well, but I've studied Evan practically all my life. Asking Annika to prom doesn't fit his pattern. It's not his MO. As I was mumbling to myself, my phone started ringing. "Yeah?" I grumbled. "Hi Austin," I heard Macy's voice. She wasn't her usual cheery self, but then again it was odd for her to be calling me at all. She sounded quiet and almost a little nervous. "Uh, hi, Mace," I said. "Could you meet me at the coffee shop in the mall? Like, now?" "Uh, sure, I'll see you there," I said, hanging up. I pondered what the hell she wanted as I donned a jacket and slipped into my shoes. "Hi, Austin," Macy said as she looked up at me. She stirring a bowl-like mug of cappuccino and looking uncomfortable. I gawked at her nose, which was red and swollen and oozing. "What's wrong with your nose?" I asked, intensely curious. Macy cringed and tried to cover it with her fingers. "I… I tried to pierce it," she said quietly. "I don't think it worked very well. But I can't take the ring out. It's too swollen." I fought the urge to laugh. "So, uh, it's nice to see you, but I have to ask why you wanted to meet me," I said, taking a seat and trying not to stare at her nose. ~ 95 ~

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"Well, as you know, Mitch and Sam are officially together, so he's taking her to prom," Macy said. She sighed and acted as if that's all she wanted to tell me. "You made me come all the way down the mountain to tell me my best friend has a girlfriend? Whom I've already met, and already know?" Macy shook her head. "Evan asked that Annika girl to prom. And she said yes. And then Bryce asked Cami to prom. And she said yes, too." "You mind telling me something I don't know?" I was getting bored, but I was proud of that. Two months ago, I would have been nodding and listening enthusiastically to everything she said. Macy looked me in the eyes. "So I don't have a date to prom," she said flatly. I knew exactly what she wanted, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of admitting it. "And you wanted me to do what with this information?" "Austin, please," Macy said, throwing down her spoon. Coffee splashed onto her shirt, but she didn‟t notice. "This is hard enough as it is! I'm a beautiful blonde teenage upperclassmen girl who didn‟t get asked to prom, so I'm resulting to asking you. I can't go alone, and I HAVE to go. You don't have to buy me dinner or anything, just my ticket. You're getting a deal here." I stared at Macy, shocked. Not shocked because she asked me - I was expecting that. I was shocked that she told me I was a less than satisfactory date. She even had the balls to ask me to buy her ticket! What a bitch! "No," I said, blankly staring into her eyes. "What?" she choked. "No." "You're refusing to go to prom with me?" she cried. I nodded. "But you love me! You can't reject me! I'm the most attractive girl you'll ever have!" "You know, Macy, I just really have to disagree. To be honest, Sam's friend Taylor is actually pretty hot." I laughed. "Hell, Sam's hot!" I stood up and pointed a finger at Macy. "You know what you are? You're finished. Two years ago, you were South's queen bee. Everyone wanted you, and you let it go to your ~ 96 ~

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head. But the truth is, everyone's tired of your ego. I'm ashamed I was ever interested in you, you snot-nosed bitch." Macy stared at me with a shocked and infuriated expression. I tried not to smile, but I felt pride and confidence swelling in my chest. "You're wrong," she whispered. "No, I'm not. Face it, Macy. You've just been upstaged." Macy sniffled and looked away. Suddenly I felt bad, despite the intense pride roaring through my veins. "Well, I also came to ask you something else," she said quietly. "You're good at biology, right? Will you look at my bellybutton?" I rolled my eyes and walked away.

~ 97 ~

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Samantha Steele "Oh my God, Sam, that is so you," Cami said, eyeing the black dress I was holding. "Not only would you look ferocious in it, but it'll drive Mitch completely insane." "Completely nuts is more like it," Annika muttered. "You guys are the best," I laughed. Then I added, "and the worst!" "Try it on, you teeny upperclassmen-dating whore!" Cami laughed, shoving me into a the dressing room. "Annika's dating an upperclassmen, too!" I said through the wall. Cami and Annika were in the dressing rooms on either side of me, trying on dresses themselves. "Evan and I are dating?" Annika asked tentatively. "He never said anything was official." "You guys make out in the hallway, Anni," Cami called. "And he bought your prom tickets, and he already called you three times today to ask if you'd picked out a dress yet. He is so totally your boyfriend." I could almost feel Annika blushing. "I'm scared," she said in a small voice. "He has a reputation, you know." "Yeah," Cami said, "and Mitch hates him." "Mitch doesn't hate him anymore," I interrupted, struggling with the zipper on my dress. "He said Evan isn't actually that bad. And Zac and Austin like him. Mitch said Macy made a lot of that stuff up, and Evan didn't think it was worth the fight to argue it." I giggled, remembering a tiny Evan fact. "Why are you laughing?" Annika demanded. "Wanna know a secret?" I asked. "Yes!" Cami called. Annika laughed and crawled under the dressing room wall to stand next to me. "Evan's a virgin!" I whispered. "No fair!" Cami called, squeezing under the dressing room wall, too. She stood up and smoothed her dress. "Say it again." ~ 98 ~

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"Evan's a virgin!" "No way! Evan Cage is so not a virgin. He's slept with all the girls in the junior class. And at least three-quarters of the senior class," Cami stated matter-of-factly. "No," I said slowly. "According to Mitch, Macy started throwing wild stories and Evan didn't deny them, so other girls started doing it, too, and eventually he got this really bad reputation without actually trying." I turned back to the mirror and continued to struggle with my zipper. "I guess Evan is actually a pretty sweet guy." "Huh, I never would've guessed," Cami said, finally assisting me in zipping my dress. "I've seen him at shows, but I guess I never really thought about it. He always looked so out of place there, I assumed he was just some really nice scene kid or something. He doesn't look metal at all." "Unlike me," I laughed, posing with my arms in the air. "Dude, that's not metal, but you look hot," Cami said. "Mitch is gonna die a very slow and happy death," Annika said. We had to hit three more stores before all of us had prom outfits, complete with shoes, dresses, jewelry, bras, and matching panties. Cami and I were fairly quick to buy, but Annika, of course, took a lot of coaxing. She wanted to wear a suit, but I managed to find a very "metal" dress that she felt dangerous and sexy wearing. I was proud of such a find. "So what do you guys want to do now?" I asked. "My mom said she'd pick us up in about an hour." "I'm hungry," Annika stated. "And tired. Can we go somewhere to sit?" "Aw, all this shopping wear you out?" I laughed. "I don't know how you do it," Annika said. "But you're damn good at it." "Well, you know my mom. I was raised by the best." Out of habit, I led us to the Nordstrom Café. We each ordered our favorite sandwiches, Annika of course taking hers apart and only eating the roasted turkey and raw lettuce. She's an odd child. ~ 99 ~

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"Oh my God," Annika moaned, sliding down in her seat, nibbling a piece of lettuce like a rabbit. "Macy's over there." I looked to my left, and sure enough, Macy Hawskins was daintily eating a salad. When she looked up and saw us, I saw a tear slide down her cheek and she suddenly became very interested in her salad. "Oh God, look at her nose!" I whispered. "Looks like she tried to pierce it herself. It's really infected." "That girl is so dumb," Annika sighed, shaking her head. Then she laughed. "I guess she was trying to be like you, Sam!" "Actually that makes sense," I laughed. "She's obsessed with my boyfriend." "Well, at least we know she eats on occasion," Cami said. "Yeah, she eats about as many calories in a week as Annika does in a day," I replied, taking a bite of my sandwich. "Hey!" Annika snapped. "What? You only eat raw lettuce, fruit, turkey, and on occasion a French fry or two," I said, waving my hand at her. "I wish I could stand eating like you." "But I look better than Macy, right?" Annika said shyly. Cami and I laughed. "Evan left her for you, didn‟t he?" Cami said. "Of course you look better than she does. And you don't have to specially order your tiny size." "Yeah, you're just naturally skinny and pretty, even without make-up," I said. "Imagine Macy without all that crap on her face." Annika shivered. We all laughed. "I'm not sure I should let you wear that," my mom said when I showed her my dress. "I don't think I can trust Mitch with you in that, and I know I can't trust you around him at all." "God, did you hear that?" I complained to my friends. "She trusts Mitch more than she trusts me!" "Well, in all fairness, Mitch is pretty damn irresistible," Cami said. "And clearly he has self control or he'd be an even bigger man-slut than Evan."

~ 100 ~

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"I thought we agreed Evan is not a man-slut!" Annika cried. "He has the reputation of one," I chided. "Please," my mom interrupted, "I don't want to hear about my daughter and her two best friends going to prom with a bunch of older guys known for being players." "Geez, Mom, where'd you learn that word?" I laughed. "Hey, I'm a hip mom," my mom smiled, putting a hand on her hip and snapping her fingers. "Mom, just because you read my Seventeen magazines when I'm not looking doesn‟t mean you know what they're talking about!" "Yes it does. I'm totally in the know about you girls." "Whatever makes you happy, Mrs. Steele," Annika teased. When we got back to my house, the three of us went into my room and tried on our entire prom outfits. Well, Cami and I tried on our prom outfits, and then we wrestled Annika back into her dress. Just as we zipped her up in it, Mitch called me. "Hey, what's up?" he asked. "Nothing much," I said, grabbing Annika's wrist as she tried to unzip her dress and get back into her jeans. "Cami and Annika and I just got back from the mall." "Oh, really? Did you buy your prom dresses?" "Yes." "What does yours look like?" "You'll see," I giggled, looking at myself in the mirror. "I have to know what it looks like or else I'll pick the wrong corsage. And if I don't know what color it is, my tie won't match," he pleaded. I giggled again. "All you need to know is that my color scheme is black and white," I said. "Cami's is light blue, and Annika's is black and silver." "Alright, I guess I can live with that. Are you up for going out tonight? Maybe dinner and a movie?" "Cami and Annika are staying the night. You should ask Bryce and Evan if they want to go, too," I said. "I'd like to go out with you tonight." ~ 101 ~

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"Okay, I'll call Evan right now. Later, babe." "See you." I hung up and went over to my closet, pulling out bunches of clothes. Cami and I began to dig, looking for something to wear tonight. I threw a few things at Annika, but she hated most of them. "You're going to give this boy a heart attack before he hits eighteen," Cami said, throwing a pillow at me. We had all finally changed and were waiting for Mitch to pick us up. "You're one to talk!" Annika said, poking Cami's exposed stomach. "What? It's finally warming up! This is Alaska, we have to take the luxury of warmth whenever we get it," Cami defended. "She has a point," I said. "Besides, this isn't nearly as sexy as my prom dress, and I want Mitch to be shockingly impressed when he sees that." "Where did you even get these clothes?" Annika asked, staring at herself in the mirror. "Las Vegas," I said matter-of-factly. Annika and Cami both rolled their eyes. I grinned. "Of course all your clothes would be from the state where prostitution is legal," Cami said sarcastically. "True. But aren‟t you glad I have them?" I replied. Cami laughed and nodded. My phone rang, and I lunged to answer it. "Hello?" "Hey, we should be at your house in about twenty minutes," Mitch said. "Bryce is driving." "Great. See you soon," I said. Hanging up, I turned to Cami and Annika. "They'll be here in twenty minutes." "Thank God. Do you think Bryce and I are like, dating now?" Cami asked. I shrugged. "I guess we‟ll see how he acts tonight. I can always ask Mitch about it. Or I guess Anni could ask Evan, he seems to know Bryce better than Mitch does," I mumbled, slipping on my favorite leather jacket. Annika grabbed her worn plaid coat and we all headed upstairs to wait.

~ 102 ~

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A black van pulled into the driveway a little while later, and Mitch got out of the passenger's seat and came to knock on my door. "Bye, Mom," I called. "We're going out with Mitch and his buddies." "Do you have your cell phone?" my mom asked. "And my pepper spray," I joked, although my mom probably took it seriously considering a pocket pepper spray was one of my Christmas presents last year. "You're mom is so awesome," Cami sighed as we went out the front door. Mitch took my hand and we all got in Bryce's van. Mitch and I sat in the very back, Cami sat in the passenger's seat, and Anni and Evan sat in the middle. "She's just not overbearing," I said. "Who's not overbearing?" Evan asked. "My mom. Both my parents, actually. They're pretty lenient. I guess that comes from raising two boys before me. They trust me." "My parents won't let me out of the house unless it's with you," Annika said. "They have no idea your parents don't give a shit about anything. Why is it that parents always love you?" she laughed. "I don't know. I guess it's cause I get good grades and I seem pretty safe." "Not in your prom dress!" Cami called from the front. "I can't believe your mom even let you buy it, not to mention she's letting you wear it!" "She trusts Mitch," I said, smiling fondly at my boyfriend. "But she's smart enough not to show it to my dad!" "I'm still curious about this little black dress of yours," Mitch whispered, his lips brushing my ear. I felt my face get hot and I kissed him to hide my embarrassment.

~ 103 ~

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Mitchell Mantel "Hey, Evan, you mind letting Mitch sit in the front? I need directions on how to get to Sam's house," Bryce asked. Evan nodded and got in the back seat of the van, and I took shotgun. "Start up Rabbit Creek Road, like you're going to Goldenview," I directed. "She lives way up there." "I used to live up there, when I was a kid," Bryce said. He made a left onto Rabbit Creek Road, and we started the long trek to my girlfriend's tiny cabin. "So… I don't really know these girls. What exactly is Cami like?" Bryce asked. I laughed. "Didn't you know her enough to ask her to prom?" I asked. Bryce shrugged. "I work at Hot Topic. She comes in a lot. She came in one day to buy a band shirt and I just kinda… asked her to prom," Bryce said. I laughed even harder. "You work at Hot Topic? I can't believe they hired you!" Bryce is definitely not your Hot Topic type. I never suspected Evan to be a metal music kind of guy, but Bryce is your normal Alaskan teenager: super outdoorsy, loves fishing, hunting, fourwheeling. He looks totally normal, with brown hair and dark blue eyes, and the classic Costco wardrobe that mostly consists of solid-colored t-shirts, cheap jeans, and a battered Carhartt jacket. "The owner was one of my dad's clients. You know, on the fishing boat? He got me a job. I guess I'm a lot more reliable than those who usually apply. I think I used my employee discount like twice in the past two years." "You're not the best judge of people, are you Mitch?" Evan joked. I shrugged. "I guess not. I should probably trust Zac's judgment more often." We got to Sam's house a few minutes later and I got out of the car to get the girls. I knocked and Sam opened the door. Cami was saying something about Sam's mom, but I was too busy staring at my girlfriend's outfit to listen. She was ~ 104 ~

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wearing dark blue jeans with lace-up sides, her skin showing through. Her top was a deep v-neck grey Van Halen shirt that hugged her in all the right places. I gleefully took her hand and didn‟t even notice that Cami was wearing Sam's favorite shirt with the bottom cut off. And to top off all their outfits, they were each wearing their old, worn out Chucks. "Zac has fucking excellent taste," Evan said. We were waiting in line to buy soda and popcorn for the girls, who were holding our seats in the theater. "Actually, Sam totally made the first move," I said. Evan looked at me questioningly. "She asked him to the Sadie Hawkins Dance." "And he said no?" Evan gawked. Bryce let out a low whistle. "He was working," I said. "And she asked him the day of. He couldn‟t exactly ask for time off. Besides, you know Zac. He's a workaholic." "Yeah, seriously," Evan said. "I don't really know Zac, but I'll have to thank him sometime," Bryce laughed. "Cami's hot." "They're all hot," I laughed. "Why are you so chipper?" Sam asked when I got back to her seat. I sat down and handed her a soda. "Oh, nothing. It's just that, like four guys asked if I was with you," I said, eating some popcorn. Sam cocked her head and stared at me. "They all wanted to bang you," I laughed. "Aw, Mitch! I didn‟t need to know that!" she said, punching my arm. I grinned and managed to squeeze a kiss out of her. "That was the worst movie I have ever seen," Sam said. "I wanted to slit my wrists the whole time." "Like the girl at the end?" Bryce asked.

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"At least somebody had the right idea," Annika said. "I hope that actress really did commit suicide. What a horrible movie to have on your resume." "I still don't know what the point was," Sam said. "Was that guy her dad, or her boyfriend?" "I think he was her brother," Evan said. "Ew!" the girls all cried at once. "Incest at its best," Sam said. I laughed. We went to dinner at a new Italian restaurant, and it felt weird to be waited on. I was unusually polite to our waiter, knowing if I pissed him off it wouldn't be far-fetched for him to mess with my food. I know the waiting business well. When it came time to pay, all three girls pulled out their wallets, and after ten minutes of arguing, we agreed for the guys to split the bill and the girls to split the tip. None of us liked letting them pay at all, but Sam is stubborn, Annika is even more stubborn, and Cami's a brick wall. "It's only eight," I said, checking my watch after dinner. "If you guys want, we could go to wharf and hang out on my dad's boat. It's docked and I've got the keys." "I don't mind driving," Bryce said. "You girls up for it?" "Of course! I love the Mantel yacht," Sam said. "It's not a yacht, it's just a really big boat," I said. Sam shrugged and entwined our fingers.

~ 106 ~

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Evan Cage We walked down the dock to Mitch's dad's boat, Mitch and Sam leading, Annika and I trailing behind. I tried desperately to keep my eyes and hands to myself, but I couldn‟t help it. I knew Annika was wearing Sam's clothes - there's no way she owned anything that tight - but she was so undeniably sexy tonight I could hardly think. She was wearing tight black leather pants, a red studded belt, a snug, long-sleeved black shirt with a wide collar, and of course, her worn-out old hi-tops. "Please stop staring at me," Annika said shyly. "Sorry," I grinned, noticing her scarlet cheeks. "Sam made me wear this stripper outfit," she said. I shook my head. "That's a pretty mild stripper outfit. I was thinking more… eighties rocker chick?" Annika grinned back at me. "She said that's what it looked like." We all got on the boat and lay out on the deck, looking at the stars and randomly chatting. I got a text message from Austin about thirty minutes after we settled down. After I read it, I busted up laughing. "What's funny?" Bryce asked. "Macy pierced her own nose!" I cried. "Austin said it's oozing pus and she's freaking out! She asked him to prom and he said no, so she came to his house a little bit ago in nothing but a robe and tried to seduce him, but her nose started leaking pus. Oh, wait, there's more!" I read the next message. "Oh, God, Macy would do something like that," Mitch said. "Oh, she pierced her bellybutton, too! And it's green!" I choked between bouts of laughter. Sam propped herself up on her elbows and glared at me through the night. "She needs to take all the rings out and clean the holes with alcohol or peroxide or salt water and let them heal. She may ~ 107 ~

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need to go to the doctor for antibiotics if they're truly infected," she said. "I had trouble with my bellybutton healing." "You have your bellybutton pierced?" Mitch asked huskily, sitting up to lean over her. Sam rolled her eyes and pushed him off. "Seriously. I don't like her but no one deserves an infected piercing. They‟re a bitch to deal with," Sam said with concern. Cami sat up, too, and looked at Sam excitedly. "You should pierce my bellybutton!" she said. "Mine, too!" Annika called. "I don't want to be left out!" "Won't your moms like, kill me?" Sam asked. "They don't have to know," Cami said sneakily. Mitch leaped up and went into the cabin on the boat. He came back with a tackle box. "We've got all kinds of needles and stuff in here," he said. "And there's matches and candles below deck." Mitch grinned and bounced his eyebrows. "I do have some spare bellybutton rings. I always take them with me in case mine falls out. Why do you want me to do it, anyway?" Sam sighed. "Because your mom can fix us if you screw it up," Annika said simply, standing up and going below deck. Mitch handed her the tackle box and dragged Sam downstairs. Cami grinned excitedly. "Sam's going to pierce my bellybutton!" "Okay," Sam said, the needle in her hand. Cami was holding an ice cube on her belly button. "This didn‟t hurt that bad when I got it done, but then again they used a mechanical needlething and a clamp and all that." "Sounds kinky," Mitch said with a smile. Sam gave him a look and he quieted, but not without a hand motion for only me and Bryce to see. "Okay, Anni, pinch Cami's bellybutton up so I can see the black dot," Sam said, poising herself to poke Cami with the needle. Annika pinched Cami's bellybutton and pulled it up as high as she could. "Ouch!" Cami said. ~ 108 ~

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"Sorry. The clamp hurts more than the piercing," Sam said. "Ready? One." Before she finished counting, Cami cried, "Ouch!" again and Sam stabbed the needle all the way through and out the other side. "Ring," she said. Mitchell handed her a silver bellybutton ring and Sam shoved it through. "OUCH!" Cami screamed. Sam stood back with her hands up, and Annika let go. "All done," Sam said. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you putting the ring in would hurt. The ring gauge is bigger than the needle." Cami glared, but then she looked at her stomach and grinned. "Happy?" "Very happy," Cami said. "It doesn't hurt so bad, I guess. It was quick." After ten minutes of coaxing Annika (she saw Cami's pain and decided being left out wasn't so bad), I finally grabbed her shoulders and told her I wouldn‟t take her to prom if she didn't let Sam pierce her bellybutton. A little peer pressure never hurt anyone. A defeated look on her face, Anni lay down and let Cami pinch her stomach. She didn't cry out as much as Cami did, but her face contorted with pain. "See? Now your stomach is decorated," Sam said proudly. Annika looked at her bellybutton, and then at Sam. "It does look pretty awesome," she said with a small smile. She sat up and winced. "Ouch. It hurts." "Sitting can be a little awkward for about the first week," Sam said. "But once it heals, you don't even feel it. I pierced yours shallow like mine. They're less likely to get infected that way. At least, that's what the girl who pierced me said. And dear god did she have a lot of piercings!" Annika reached up to pull her shirt down, but I stopped her. "You don't want to get your shirt caught up in it," I said quickly. Sam grinned and laughed silently. "Actually, he's right," she said. "It might uh, pull on it." ~ 109 ~

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We took the girls home after that. It was a little awkward dropping them all off at the same house. Mitch, being the only official boyfriend, thought nothing of taking Sam to the back door and making out with her before saying goodbye. Bryce opened Cami's door and gave her a quick hug and a peck on the lips, a normal thing to do after a first date. I however, had no idea what to do. I thought Annika was my girlfriend, but I hadn't actually gone on a date with her until tonight and wasn‟t sure if she thought the same way. She climbed out the back seat after me and I started to walk her to the door, but we saw Sam and Mitch eating each other's faces and stopped just far enough so we couldn‟t see the them. Cami, being a bit smarter than the rest of us, snuck in quietly through the front door. I assumed Sam's parents were asleep. "So…" I began. "I had fun," Annika interrupted. I was grateful. "Better than our usual meetings at shows and impromptu make out sessions in the hallways." "Yeah, " I laughed and stared off into the woods, strapped for conversation. Luckily, Annika is sometimes a little bold. "So… are you my boyfriend now?" she asked. "Uh, um, yeah… yeah I think I am," I stuttered. "You know, if you want me to be." Annika smiled and blushed a little. "Okay," she said, staring at her shoes. "So, that means I need to kiss you, right?" I asked, feeling only a little less awkward. Annika blushed even harder and nodded, biting her lower lip. I touched the sides of her face and gently tilted her head up, then leaned down to kiss her. Her cheeks were hot under my hands, and her lips were stiff. "Is this okay?" I asked, pulling back. We'd certainly done this before, but tonight felt different; more intimate. Annika nodded. "I giggle when I'm nervous," she said, and I realized her lips were tight because she was smiling.

~ 110 ~

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Macy Hawskins The drive home was absolutely excruciating. Not only had Austin rejected me, but now he (and probably everyone else) knew my nose and my bellybutton were infected. I felt incredibly stupid. I wanted to take my robe off, so it wouldn‟t pull on my bellybutton ring, but I wasn‟t wearing anything else. Why, oh WHY did I have to pierce my own appendages? And why, oh WHY did I have to try and seduce Austin Trowser? I embarrassed myself because Mitchell and Evan have dates for prom, and I don’t? Am I INSANE? I had to arch my back so my bellybutton wasn‟t pinched. I couldn‟t move my facial muscles or my nose stung like crazy, the pain shooting all the way to my eyes. By the time I pulled into my driveway, my eyes were stinging with tears and my nose was oozing white pus. I went inside and stood in front of my bathroom mirror, crying over my ruined face. My nose was now even more swollen (if that was at all possible) and the diamond stud was digging into my flesh, so it was bleeding, too. My bellybutton was green and leaking pus, and scabs had formed around the ring so I couldn‟t pull it out without excruciating pain. "My life sucks," I choked through heaving sobs. To make matters worse, all the crying made my sinuses congested, and now my nose was leaking snot and pus. Since my situation was only getting steadily worse, I finally decided to show and tell my mom. She was a nurse, so she'd know what to do. Unfortunately, she'd also yell at me for being so stupid and I would hear about it for the rest of my life. "I can't believe you let this happen," my mom chided. I was laying on the examination table at the hospital, my mom rubbing a numbing gel onto my stomach. "I sterilized the needles," I defended. My mom sighed and looked at me. ~ 111 ~

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"These aren't real silver rings," she said. "You know you're allergic to nickel." "Mom!" I cried, propping myself up on my elbows. "How was I supposed to know they weren't real silver? You always wear the expensive stuff!" "I didn't when I was younger!" my mom said, exasperated. "I couldn‟t afford real anything. And besides, that's no excuse! If you wanted to get something pierced, you should have told me. We could have done it for you here, for God's sake!" "I didn‟t want to bother you," I mumbled. "Bother us?" she laughed. "We love stabbing people. I give immunizations all day long! Here, hold this to your nose." I gently rubbed a cotton swab with numbing gel into my swollen nose. My mom carefully unscrewed the top of the bellybutton ring, rubbed more gel around the edges as a lubricant, and yanked the ring out. I sucked in a painful breath when the scabs broke. "I'm not sure how to fix your nose," my mom said, cleaning my bellybutton and bandaging it. She looked up at my nose. "I guess I'll just have to pinch it and use a wire cutter to snip the ring." "Please, don‟t," I whispered, eyes wide. The numbing gel wasn‟t that strong, and I could barely twitch my nose without pain. I could only imagine what squeezing it would feel like. My mom sighed, seemingly defeated, but then she perked up as if she'd just remembered something. "Here," she said, moving my hand with the cotton swab a little. "Numb this spot, here. I'll go get a needle." "A needle?" I asked in a high-pitched voice. But my mom had already bustled from the room and I could hear her talking to one of the doctors. When she came back into the room, she was holding two large needles. I began to panic and squirm to stand up, but my mom placed a hand on my shoulder and gently but firmly pushed me back down. "Just relax, Macy," she said, squirting a clear liquid out of the bigger needle. "You'll hardly feel this." ~ 112 ~

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Mom was wrong. I totally felt it. The pricking sensation radiated throughout my face, shaking my cheekbones and rattling my eyeballs. I felt a thick coolness spread from the tip of the needle, and within seconds my sinuses, eyes, and nose were completely numb. "Pretty neat, huh?" I mom said happily. "This stuff is new. Great for broken noses." She grabbed the other needle, which was empty. Although I gladly couldn‟t feel it, she pricked the swollen side of my nose and I saw blood ooze into the well. I couldn‟t see what it looked like, but I did feel a little pressure being released, and a warm sensation trailed down my face. "Oops, sorry," my mom said, wiping my face with a cloth. "It was a lot more infected than I guessed." She then took a pair of very sinister looking clippers to the nose ring. She seemed to struggle a little bit before I heard a snap and felt the ring slide out of my nose. My mom pinched my nose in a tissue as hard as she could, then handed it to me. "Hold that on for quite a while," she said. "I'm going to ask Dr. Herman if he can write you a script for some antibiotics. I think you'll be fine, but I don't want to risk anything getting worse." "Thanks mom," I said, my upper lip becoming numb. "This stuff really spreads, doesn‟t it?" I said with an uncontrollable lisp. "Yes, yes it does," my mom laughed. Then she walked out the door and called to Dr. Herman. I squeezed my nose as hard as I could with the tissue, blood and pus oozing out and soaking through it within minutes. Looking around the room, I saw pregnancy posters and warnings about meningitis. I remembered I hadn't gotten my meningitis vaccine for college, and decided I may as well get it now. My mom came back in about ten minutes later with a script and some pain killers. "Take these, Macy dear," she said, filling a paper cup with water from the sink. It will help keep the swelling down, even if it doesn't help the pain too much. This is your script," she handed a piece of paper to me, "so go get it filled at Fred Meyer ~ 113 ~

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as soon as you leave, alright? I won't get off until late so you'll have to do it yourself." "Thanks, mom," I said, folding the script and tucking it in my purse. "You're welcome, dear. Now, when that heals, I want you to let me take a look and maybe we'll talk about getting it pierced for real. Sound good?" "Yeah, mom, that sounds great." I went to Fred Meyer to pick up my script. I accidentally went to the Fred Meyer on Abbott. Dumb idea. Lots of kids from South get jobs at Fred Meyer on Abbott. More importantly, lots of kids who are friends with Austin get jobs at Fred Meyer on Abbott. I got out of my car without even bothering to check my nose, which I knew was gross looking. But I figured the pharmacist would give me less of a hassle if I really looked like I needed my antibiotics. Upon entering the store, I realized I had no clue where the pharmacy was, so I spent about ten minutes wandering around the perimeter of the store before I found it. I walked up to the counter and tried to ignore the pharmacist as he cringed and stared at my face. "I need my antibiotics," I said, laying the script on the counter. "I'll need to see some ID," the pharmacist said, crossing his arms and staring at my nose. I nodded and dug through my purse searching for my wallet. I couldn't find it. "Could you wait just a minute?" I asked, taking my script and politely stepping aside, even though no one was in line behind me. I called my mom and asked if I'd left my wallet there. She said it was on the floor of the exam room, so it must have fallen out of my purse. Without hanging up, I walked back up to the counter.

~ 114 ~

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"I left my wallet at the hospital, is there any way I can get my medication now? I really need it, as you can see," I said, gesturing to my nose. The pharmacist looked at me like I was a crazy, homeless drug addict and shook his head. "No ID, no drugs, Missy," he said. "My name is MACY," I snapped. "Mom, I need you to bring my ID to me." "I can't get off work for another three hours, Mace. But Lindsay is off in ten minutes, so she could be there in less than an hour. Could you get something to eat?" my mom asked. "I suppose," I sighed. "Tell her to text me when she gets here, and I'll meet her in the pharmacy. My ID is on its way," I added to the pharmacist, snapping my phone shut. He just shrugged and went back to doing something on his computer. Probably playing solitaire. While I waited for Lindsay, I wandered around the candy aisle. I grabbed a few chocolate bars and, while I was trying to decide if I wanted milk chocolate with caramel or with peanuts, my nose began to itch as the numbing stuff wore off. I started to scratch it a little, and it was almost relieving to pick off the scabs. I didn't even realize what I was doing until someone behind me started talking. "You know, Macy, you can't make meth out of chocolate. But I hear the midtown Wal-Mart isn't carding. Maybe you could get some Sudafed from there!" I whirled around and dropped my candy bars, fuming, but also embarrassed.

~ 115 ~

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Jacob Fastner I was wandering through the hallways, taking the long way to fourth period, when a large poster caught my eye. PROM COMMITTEE MEMBERS NEEDED! ALL GRADES! VOLUNTEERS FOR FOOD SERIVICE, VALET, AND TICKET SALES! SIGN UP AT FRONT OFFICE A slow, evil grin spread across my face. It was perfect. The options were limitless! I could sign up for food service and poison her drink. I could slip a sleeping pill into it and kill her later. But I had no way of knowing for certain she would drink it. And if she passed out, how would I get her alone? Certainly Mitch would drive her home, or to the hospital. Or, I could sign up for ticket sales and mess up her ticket. They wouldn‟t let her in, and I could kidnap her and kill her somewhere else. That sounded much more exciting, but there were more variables. What if Mitch just bought her another ticket at the door, or if he never left her alone afterwards? He seemed pretty attached to her. No… my best option was to sign up for valet. As long as I made sure I parked Mitch‟s car, I‟d know what it looked like and where it was. After my shift, I could steal the key and hide in the backseat. Once they were inside the car, I could knock out Mitch from behind, then one quick thrust to the neck with a knife would put Sam out of her misery. "Uh, hi, I‟d like to sign up for valet volunteering for prom?" I said to the lady at the front desk. She looked up at me as if I‟d interrupted something interesting. "Then you should fill out the form," she said blandly. I cleared my throat. "Uh, where is that?" I asked. ~ 116 ~

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"With all the other forms," she said, pointing with a fake nail to the opposite wall. There were at least fifty forms on that wall, all different colors and sizes. I stared at my new opponent for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and beginning the search. I finally found the volunteer prom valet form in the very bottom right corner, the last place I looked. It was blue. I sat down with a clipboard and starting filling out the form. It was very short, and I was up and handing it in within two minutes of finding it. "Did you sign the volunteer sheet?" the woman sighed when I handed her my form. "Uh, no, where is that?" I asked. She sighed again, as if it was too much work to point at things. I followed her fake nail again to a clipboard on my right. I signed my name on the form and asked the woman if I needed to do anything else. She mumbled "show up." "Hey, mom?" I called when I got home. "I‟m in the kitchen, Jacob," she called back. "I need a ride to prom next Friday. I signed up to be a valet," I said, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. My mom handed me a plate of hot oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies and poured me a glass of milk, too. "Of course! I might be working, but I‟m sure your dad can take you if I can‟t." She handed me the glass of milk and watched me eat, a concerned look on her face. Finally, feeling a little too scrutinized, I snapped, "What?" My mom looked startled. "I‟m sorry, dear. I‟m just glad you‟re getting out there and doing things. You seemed pretty shook up about the whole Cami break-up," she said, not looking at me. I studied my cookies, trying not to smile. "She just needs time to realize how insane her friend is. That‟s why I‟m giving her some space to think things over. This isn‟t the end of our relationship," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. ~ 117 ~

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"Honey… Maybe you should just let this one go. She can't be worth it if she causes you this much pain. Don't put your life on hold for her to come to her senses," my mom said, a concerned hand on my arm. I looked up at her. "Oh don't worry. I'm done trying. Keeping my options open," I said with a fairly convincing smile. "Well, I‟m glad you understand and are taking the high road," my mom said proudly. "I knew I raised you to be a gentleman." "You have no idea what you raised me to be," I whispered to myself.

~ 118 ~

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Annika Dixon "God damn it, Annika! You HAVE to wear make-up to prom!" Sam cried, slamming an eye shadow brush onto her dresser. She nostrils flared and she winced and tenderly touched her new nose ring, a giant butterfly-shaped diamond. "Sam's right," Cami said, her mouth agape as she put mascara on. She turned from the mirror to look at me and grinned. "Your dress is technically sluttier than Sam's, she just has bigger tits than you. If you wear make-up, you'll totally outshine her." "Thanks, Cami! And you're one to talk, Miss Pardon My Boobs!" Sam said, feigning offense. I laughed. "Okay, fine!" I caved. "But only because Cami said I'm hotter than you." Sam pretended to pout as she swirled a liner brush in black and began work on my eyes. She poked me a few times, most likely on purpose, but she did a pretty good job. "There you go," she said, putting a brush down and looking proud. "You look very metal. This pleases me." I looked in the mirror and realized she was right. I had on heavy silver eye shadow with dark, sparkly edges and thick black eyeliner. She stood behind me and crossed her arms over my shoulder, resting her chin on them. "This look is called 'heavy metal' and it is a bareMinerals tutorial I've been using for two years. You should wear it to shows. It looks good on you," she said. I had no idea what a bareMinerals tutorial was, but I liked it. "I like it," I finally admitted. Sam grinned. "So when are the guys getting here?" Cami asked, screwing the cap back on the mascara tube. Sam glanced at her iHome, which was blasting Is It Day or Night? by The Runaways. "In about thirty minutes," she said. "Mitch is picking us up and taking us to Evan's house. His mom hired a photographer and the limo will pick us up from there and take us to dinner. Our reservations are at Jens for seven o'clock." ~ 119 ~

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"This should be fun," I said happily. I'd never been on a real date before, aside from the movie thing a few weeks ago, so this was exciting, new, and a little dangerous feeling. But so far, Evan seemed really great. We had the same taste in music, and he knew just how to make me all fuzzy and jumpy inside. "So Cami, tell us about Bryce," Sam said. "I know Evan a little, but I've hardly been around Bryce." "He's pretty outdoorsy," Cami said, sitting on the bed next to me. "He likes classic rock, like AC/DC and stuff. That's good. And, of course, he's totally smokin' hot." "Evan's hotter," I said smugly, laying down on my back and putting my hands behind my head. Sam snorted. "Y'all know Mitch is the most gorgeous guy at South," she said. "He's the Johnny Depp of the class of 2010." "She has a point," Cami said with a sigh. "But Bryce is a senior. So he can be the Johnny Depp of the class of 2009." "Evan has that evil dangerousness that completely clashes with Annika's entire personality," Sam said with a laugh. "It makes for a very intriguing, beautiful couple." "What do you mean, 'clashes with my entire personality?'" I gasped, sitting up and staring at her. She laughed again. "I mean you're a health nut and a giggle-girl who just happens to love heavy metal," she said. "So Evan like, totally clashes." "He does not! And I'm not a giggle-girl!" I laughed, though she was mostly correct. I was a health nut. Soda? Not my thing. Dry lettuce? Yummy. Though my dad did own an ice cream shop, and I did enjoy such indulgences rather often. "Okay, maybe he's more normal than we thought," Sam said, wiggling into her skin-tight dress. "But even though he gave up that menacing glare, he's still kind of dark and sexy looking. Not that I think he's sexier than Mitch or anything… But I like him on you." "You mean you like him in her," Cami mumbled. "Oh, God, I didn‟t need that visual," Sam laughed. I started giggling and stood up to slip into my dress. My foot ~ 120 ~

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accidently got caught in the stomach hole and I fell over, Sam and Cami laughing their asses off at me. "I'm not skilled at the whole being feminine thing!" I cried, throwing a shoe at Cami. It missed her leg and bounced off the bed. "Here," Sam managed through her giggles, "let me help you, dude." Mitch drove a dark, midnight blue truck. Cami and I had to cram into the narrow backseat, but Cami wasn‟t too upset because she was pretty much sitting in Bryce's lap. When we got to Evan's house, my jaw dropped so involuntarily that it hurt. The house was high up in Bear Valley, about ten minutes higher than Sam's. His house was freaking huge, sage green, and landscaped to fairy-tale perfection. He had a circular driveway with a shrubbery statue of a mermaid in the middle. There were pine and evergreen trees all around the driveway, some of which still had Christmas and Halloween lights on them. I smiled. No one in Alaska bothers to take down their Christmas or Halloween lights. Mitch dropped us off by the front door and went to park the car in the garage around back. The front door was up on a dark wooden porch, with a pale green porch swing and dozens of potted plants in an array of colors. The door itself was twice the size of a normal door, and made out of the same dark wood as the porch. Bryce rang the doorbell, which was shaped like a small silver hummingbird. "Hey, guys," Evan said cheerfully, opening the door. He was already in his suit, wearing a white tie. He half-smiled, halfstared intently at my dress, his eyes lingering on my slightly exposed stomach. With a smirk, Sam and Cami squeezed beside Evan's immobile figure and followed Bryce into the house.

~ 121 ~

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Mitchell Mantel "A lily, huh?" Bryce said, looking at the corsage I'd gotten Sam. He was sitting in the front seat of my dad's Chevy. I would've driven my truck (a restored 1957 Chevy truck with custom white leather interior) but there wasn't a backseat, so there wouldn‟t be enough room. "Sam said she wanted a lily because it's the death flower. She's supposedly got a black and white theme, hence Evan and I wearing white ties," I said, gesturing to my neck. "Cami said to get her something light blue and brown. I went in the flower shop and told the woman up front what my girlfriend wanted, and she showed me this. I have no clue what it is," he said, holding up a clear plastic flower container. Inside was a pale blue cluster of tiny flowers that kind of looked like baby's breath. They dangled and looked like they were supposed to twine around the girl's wrist. The wristband was chocolate brown, and could be seen between the flowers. I pulled into Sam's driveway and Bryce climbed into the backseat so Sam could sit in the front. I left the corsage on the dashboard and walked up the front steps to Sam's tiny cabin. "Hey!" she said brightly, opening the door for me. I choked on my hello, and she grinned, taking my hand and pulling me down the steps. "Have fun!" her mom called, closing the door behind us. Driving to Evan's house was a struggle. Sam's hair was in hundreds of pin curls, cascading all around her face and shoulders. She had heavily shadowed, smoky eyes and blood-red lips. Her dress… It was made of skin-tight black leather, clinging to all her curves in all the right ways. The front was fairly modest, but since I was taller than her, things worked out all right for my eyes. The back was so low she constantly put her hand back there to make sure she wasn‟t flashing anybody. It laced up the back with white silk threads. All I wanted to do was tear it off of her. ~ 122 ~

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She had on five-inch black platform heels, but even with that, I was still taller than her by about two inches. She had a white leather anklet with a lily and a wolf charm hanging off it. Her toes and fingernails were painted with French tips, gently accentuating her tan. To top it all off, she wore a white leather jacket. "Here," she said before she got out of the car at Evan's house. "Could you keep these in your pocket?" She reached into her cleavage and pulled out her iPhone and her ID, credit card, and a small wad of cash wrapped in a rubber band. Still shocked, I just nodded and slipped them in my pants pocket. She smiled and gave me a quick kiss before following her friends into Evan's house. I pulled around the house and into Evan's garage, next to his father's second-generation Cadillac De Ville. The garage was enormous, housing at least twenty five cars, most of them copies of famous cars. In the summer, Evan drives a pristine relic of the General Lee from the Dukes of Hazzard. When I walked into Evan's house, he and Annika were already getting their pictures taken, and Sam, Cami, and Bryce were sitting on the couch and talking. I came up behind Sam and hugged her shoulders, kissing her cheek and dropping her corsage in her leather-clad lap. "Aw, Mitch!" she said, kissing me back. "It's so pretty. I love it." She slipped it on her wrist as I sat down next to her. Evan's mom brought us some chips and drinks, and the photographer worked his way through pictures of the couples, just the guys, just the girls, and individuals. "If you give me addresses," the photographer said after about an hour. "I'll mail the prints to all of you at no extra charge." "Awesome," Sam said, taking a form and filling out her information. We all did the same, and then Evan's mom came into the living room to inform us the limo had arrived. We took a few non-professional photos before getting in and starting the drive to Jens, the nicest restaurant in town. Sam's cousin is the head chef.

~ 123 ~

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We found out a few minutes after leaving the house that Evan's mom had stocked the limousine with snacks, sodas, and spiced rum. "You're mom is totally awesome," Cami said, unscrewing the top on a bottle of rum. "She trusts us," Evan said, pouring glasses of soda. Cami poured the rum, and by the time we reached the restaurant, Sam was giggling and telling me she felt that tonight was going to be the best night of her life.

~ 124 ~

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Bryce Hansen From the backseat of Mitch's truck, I saw him walk up Sam's front steps and knock on the door. I glanced at her roof (which had moss growing between the shingles, which were falling off) and cringed. The paint on her front steps was a peeling hunter green, matching the siding below the logs and the front door. Sam opened the door and completely offset the whole scene. She always looks like she lives in Beverly Hills. If I didn‟t know better, I'd assume she'd stolen her leather dress and jacket. It's strange, but for some reason, her house seems like a part of her. Something that says, "screw you for judging me." Mitch grinned and bounced his eyebrows when he turned around and looked at me, leading Sam down the steps in her chunky heels. Annika came out behind her - I won't even try to describe how hot she was - and Cami came out last, laughing at something Annika said. Sam's mom called for us to have a good time and closed the door. I gaped at Cami. Sam and Annika were hot, too, of course, but I'm just not interested in them. Cami's dress consisted of three parts. The fabric was a soft, pale blue-green and brown animal print. There was a wide strap around her waist, starting a few inches below her bellybutton (now pierced, and showing) and stopped at about her fingertips. Two other thick pieces of fabric were attached to the waist-piece and tied behind her neck, covering her boobs but leaving a strip of skin showing between them. Two gold straps wrapped around her stomach, keeping the dress tight on her body. There was no back. Cami climbed into the backseat and snuggled against me, my arm around her shoulders. We drove to Evan's house, the girls arguing over whether Joan Jett sang better during her Runaways days or solo days. Cami and Annika gawked and gasped over Evan's house, but Sam and Mitch lingered in the car. Evan let us in, and we ~ 125 ~

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began taking boatloads of pictures to appease Evan's mom and the girls. "After prom, we should go out for ice cream," Sam said. We were finally in the restaurant, waiting for our food. "Yeah!" Annika agreed. "I love ice cream." "You girls are wasted," Evan chided, leaning towards Annika. She turned red. "My words aren't slurring," Sam said, slightly swaying in her chair. Mitch put his arm around her and laughed. "Besides," she continued, perfectly sober, "when people in my family get drunk, they just get sleepy." "I guess that's better than being an angry drunk," I laughed. "Damn straight," Sam said. "I only had one drink anyway. I just really like ice cream. Oh, and my cousin makes the best desserts. Chocolate mousse…" she moaned a little and Mitch cleared this throat. "You just like the mousse because it has rum in it," Cami said, waving a dessert menu across the table. "No," Sam snapped. "That's just a perk." "Oh shut up," Mitch laughed. "None of you are drinkers." "Cami's a drinker," Sam and Annika said in unison. "I think I can deal with that," I said thoughtfully. "Oh you wish you could deal with this," Cami said, gesturing to her pathetic excuse for a dress (but perfectly reasonable excuse for lingerie). "Uh, yeah, I do," I answered flatly. She stared at me for a moment, a little confused, then gently punched my chest when a grin crept across my face. "You know, the limo's outside. You two could borrow it for an hour," Evan joked, gesturing towards to windows, through which the limo could be seen. "Oh, no," Cami said. "He has to actually buy me dinner first. Taking me to the restaurant doesn‟t count." Everyone laughed, and our food came soon after. The guys all ordered steaks, while the girls ordered dainty salads, fish, and pasta. Everything was delicious, and I enjoyed continuous ~ 126 ~

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flirtation with Cami, until we'd just finished dinner, when her psycho ex-boyfriend called. "Oh, my God," Cami said, looking at her cell phone. "This is ridiculous. I blocked his cell, but I forgot to block his home number. I better take this or he'll call all night." She walked out the front door to the sidewalk. I watched her through the windows. At first she just looked annoyed, but then she got more animated and I heard her muffled shouts. A few people started to stare. Just as I was about to get up and ask what was going on, she hung up and strode back to the table. "Is everything okay?" Sam asked. "He wants me to go home," Cami snorted. "Why?" I asked. She gave me a look that made me feel stupid for asking. "Because he's pissed that I'm with another guy. I never should have led him on like that. I figured he hated Sam so much he'd just leave. No such luck," she sighed. "Oh, well," Annika said. "He's a sophomore and I know no one asked him to prom. He won't ruin our night." "Yeah, Cami," Sam said. "We'll be fine. Unless he decides to act on that wanting to kill me thing tonight." We all laughed and ordered dessert.

~ 127 ~

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Evan Cage "What do you want?" I whispered in Annika's ear. "Chocolate ice cream," she said, not looking at me. "It has rum in it." I laughed. "So it does. I think I'll have the crème brûlée," I said, glancing down at Annika's body - again. I couldn‟t help looking. She was wearing a skin-tight black cotton halter dress with an extremely low-cut top, and a long hole down the front that left her newly-pierced bellybutton and a strip of her stomach and lower ribcage exposed. Her dirty-blonde hair was in loose, wavy curls cascading down her back. Sam had apparently talked Annika into putting make-up on, and her eyes looked bigger and brighter under the heavy black eyeliner. Her thick, black lashes cast shadows on her cheekbones. Sam had also, amazingly, talked Annika out of wearing her beat-up old Chucks, and instead she was wearing what looked like an old pair of black, chunky suede sandals. I assumed they were Sam's, because the seams were pink. Her finger- and toenails were painted black, and she had a simple silver locket and pearl studs in her ears. Cami was wild and eye-catching. Sam was daring and seductive. But Annika was sexy, yet simple. It made me crazy. "So," I said after we'd all piled into the limo. "It's seven now, and prom starts at eight. We can drop our stuff off at my dad's hotel right now, and go to prom later, if that sounds okay?" "Are we gunna meet Joan Jett?" Sam blurted. "Well… she's really busy," I began in a sympathetic voice. "It's okay, Sam," Annika said, patting her friend on the back. "So… we're going to have to wait until after her show," I finished. Sam's head snapped up and a huge grin spread across her face. ~ 128 ~

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"So we DO get to meet Joan Jett?" she exclaimed. I laughed and nodded. "Oh, my God!" Sam screamed, looking at Mitch. "I get to meet Joan Jett! She's my idol! I LOVE Joan Jett!" "I know," Mitch laughed, putting his arms around her to keep her from bolting. "I wish you'd get this excited about seeing me." "Oh, Sam's a lesbian, didn‟t you know that?" Cami stated. "I am not!" Sam denied, slapping Cami's arm. "But Joan Jett made female rocker history. It was her idea to start The Runaways, she kept the band together after Cherie Currie split, and she's the only one who went on to make a serious name for herself. Well, I guess Lita Ford got pretty famous. I respect Joan and wish to make just as big of an impact." "You sound like a hippie," I said. She glared at me. "Fuck global warming," she said. "There. How hippie am I now?" "You're hippie enough to need a drink," Mitch grunted, pouring rum and coke into a glass. Sam took it with a nasty stare and began sipping. "I think we're all hippie enough to need a drink," I said, passing around the rum. "I second that," Cami said, greedily snatching a soda can from the mini fridge. By the time we reached the hotel, everyone but Bryce, who's the biggest, was fairly tipsy. Sam tripped over her chunky heels and giggled all the way to her room, her bag dragging on the floor. I'm surprised we didn't get in trouble. My dad reserved three rooms for us, all connected. When he told me this, I'd laughed and asked if he was worried that we'd all be having sex. He said, "If I get you three adjoining rooms, it's like getting you one big room. No guy wants to have sex with his best friend watching." That's my dad for you. We hung out in the hotel watching TV and talking for about two hours, just enough time for us all to start sobering up. Finally Sam realized that if we didn‟t leave soon, we'd miss Joan Jett. ~ 129 ~

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"I cannot miss this!" she cried. "Meeting her is not enough! I have to see her play!" The limo was still parked in front of the hotel when we came out, and the driver opened the door for us and drove the few blocks to the other hotel. In that short period of time, the girls managed to get completely trashed. When we walked into the lobby of the hotel, there was a sign telling us to check in at the front desk with our prom tickets. The ballroom was behind it. "Zac!" Sam called. "I thought you were a waiter," she slurred, pointing and smiling at the man at the front desk. "Got a new job," he said, waving hello. "When did you start working here?" I asked, completely surprised. "About a month ago," he said. "Got sick of Mitch taking my hours." "You'll never let that go, will you?" Mitch laughed. "Zac, guess what?" Sam slurred again. "I'm dating Mitch! Isn't he sweet? Oh, and guess what? I'm totally wasted!" "Shh," Mitch said, holding in his laughter. "Babe, you'll get Evan's mom in trouble, and we'll get kicked out." "Oh," she whispered. "I like Evan's mom." "You got her drunk?" Zac snapped. "My mom left a few bottles of rum in the limo," I said quietly. "They'll all pretty tipsy. Be cool, man. You know we won't hurt them." "Jacob's on the prom committee," Zac whispered, leaning over the desk to talk to us. "He's working valet. What if he sees you?" "Limo, Zac! He has no reason to see us. And if he does, what the hell? My uncle's the DA," I said, waving away his concern. "Okay," Zac sighed. "But if he tries to kill Sam, don't say I didn‟t warn you." "Oh he's been wanting to kill her for months," Mitch said. "I wish he'd just get it over with."

~ 130 ~

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Macy Hawskins I was standing by the punch table, sullenly sipping from a red party cup. For the past hour, I'd been carefully watching the door, waiting for Mitch, Evan, Bryce, and their dates to come in. "Aha!" I cried triumphantly to myself when I spied them. Sam was in wearing a skin-tight black leather dress (that I was secretly insanely jealous of) and tripping over her chunky heels. "That's odd," I said to myself. Then it hit me; she was drunk! Sam doesn‟t wear heels often, but I'd seen her wear them often enough to know that those five-inch platforms wouldn‟t be a challenge for her to walk in. But she was clinging to Mitch, giggling and stumbling all the way to the tables, where she plopped down and started begging for food and coffee. "Would you have gotten me drunk, too?" I asked silkily when Mitch walked over to fill a plate for food for his girlfriend. "I didn‟t get her drunk," Mitch answered, not looking at me. "She did it all by herself. Then again, you always get drunk all by yourself, too, so yeah, you would have been just as trashed, if not more, than she is." "Well you better keep her in line," I growled. "Or I just might tell someone you gave her alcohol." "Be my guest, Macy," she sighed, looking me in the eyes. "For all I know, you're so high off your ass right now you don‟t even know who I am." "Fuck you," I snorted, watching him walk away. How dare he think I'm high! I only took one hit! I stayed by the snack bar for most of the dance. Not a single guy asked me anything. Not to dance, not to hand him a cup, not to move. Nothing. It was like I was invisible or something. It was miserable. Yet I couldn‟t bring myself to leave, as if doing so would prove I wasn‟t popular anymore. It was now that I realized I didn‟t actually have any friends. Not even fake friends. I'd always ~ 131 ~

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just followed Mitch or Evan around, or been followed by Austin. But now that no one was interested in me, I experienced something new: boredom. I watched Mitch and Sam, who had clearly started to sober up, walk to the dance floor during a slow song. They started dancing, and I had to fight back tears. I'd always wanted to dance with Mitch. I'd always wanted to have what Sam had. Jealously, anger, and rejection built up in my throat like bile and I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the burning tears welling in my eyes. I felt utterly and completely alone. Yet a tiny voice in my head whispered, This is what you deserve. You lied about Evan. You have no idea if you've ever slept with him, because you get so drunk every time that you can't remember anything past second base. You're a disgusting, dirty failure. My conscience ate away at me all the way back to the hotel lobby, where I finally let a few tears escape. I saw Zac still working the front desk, and kept my back to him as I went outside to the valet station. Cami's psycho ex-boyfriend was standing at the podium, drumming his fingers. He stood up straight when he saw me. "Number forty-three," I choked, handing him my paper slip. "Hey, you're Macy Hawskins, right?" he asked softly, taking the paper slip and looking for the matching key. I nodded. "Are you okay?" "No!" I cried, finally bursting into tears. Jacob walked out from behind the podium and put his arm around me, handing me my key. "What's wrong?" "Mitch doesn‟t like me, and neither does Evan!" I managed through my choking sobs. "And now they're seeing Joan Jett, and after that they're going to Whitmeister, where they all have private rooms! That bitch totally stole my DATE!" "You know," Jacob said slyly, "I'm stopping her tonight."

~ 132 ~

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"What?" I said, my nose stuffy and running again. I looked up at him and my sobs calmed. He had a sinister smile on his face. "Let's just say she won't be ruining anyone's plans ever again. Unless someone else wants her grave spot later on." "What are you talking about?" I said, shoving him away from me and stumbling back. It sounded like he was planning on killing her or something. "Well you see, at first I was planning on killing her in the car, but they happened to take a limo instead. Valets don't park limos. So for a long time, I was at a loss on how to kill her. But now you've told me where she's staying tonight, so I know exactly what to do." I knew I needed to run away, to go call the police, but my legs were frozen to the sidewalk. I just stood there, staring. "But you don't seem to be interested in assisting me, so, in that case, I'm going to have to kill you." I felt my nose crack as his fist collided with my face, and I fell backward onto the sidewalk. I heard the sickening smack of my skull on the concrete, and then everything went black.

~ 133 ~

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Samantha Steele It was nearly midnight, and I was almost completely sober again. My insides felt a little queasy, but my head had a nice fuzzy hum and I had regained almost complete control over my motor functions. "Did they forget about Joan Jett?" I asked as Mitch handed me a cup of water, relieved I was no longer slurring my words. "Prom's over in an hour." "She'll probably come out last. Most people have given up by now," Evan said. I looked around. He was right. Of the original three-hundred fifty people, there were probably only onehundred fifty left. I chewed absently on a piece of bread. "Hey," Annika suddenly said. "Do you hear that?" "Hear what?" Mitch asked, looking around. "They turned off the music." "Ladies and gentlemen," I heard over the loudspeaker. "Joan Jett!" I screamed. The DJ station was gone from the stage. I'd been trying so hard to stay awake (I told you people in my family get sleepy when they drink) that I hadn't been paying any attention to the stage crew. The lights dimmed so low I could barely see Mitch six inches from me. Spotlights swirled around the stage curtain and I heard the first few chords of I Love Rock 'N' Roll. The curtain flew to the sides, and Joan Jett was illuminated just as she began to sing. I bolted towards the stage, shoving people out of my way and nearly tripping over my chunky heels, getting there just in time for the chorus. Cami and Annika were right on my heels, though not nearly as ecstatic as I was. I stood just below the stage, directly in front of Joan Jett, singing along and throwing the most spectacular air guitar performance of my life. Cami pulled the drumsticks out of her hair and drummed on the railing separating us from the stage, and Annika joined me in precious head-banging and air-strumming. ~ 134 ~

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The song was nearly over by the time to boys worked their way to us. Bryce knew the lyrics, but Evan and Mitch looked quite lost by the time Annika and I were screaming to Bad Reputation. "South Anchorage High School, how are you?" Joan called at the end of Bad Reputation. The few of us who were left must have been mostly die-hard fans, because the screaming was louder than the amps. "Well, I haven‟t had such an enthusiastic crowd since The Runaways went to Tokyo!" Joan called. "CHERRY BOMB!" I screamed, my voice just barely heard over the cheering. Joan Jett looked across the crowd for a second before locking eyes with me. "You want me to play Cherry Bomb?" she asked. I nodded vigorously and the crowd starting chanting, "Cherry Bomb! Cherry Bomb!" "Can't stay at home, can't stay at school, old folks say you poor little fool!" I screamed in delight and sang along at the top of my lungs. I felt like the concert was specifically for me. They played all my favorite songs: I Love Playin' With Fire, I Hate Myself for Loving You, Crimson and Clover, even You Drive Me Wild and Is It Day or Night? by The Runaways. I figured Evan must have pulled some pretty tight strings for me. "Alright," Joan said after playing Love Me Two Times. "So, a friend of mine has a nephew who's friends with one of my bigger fans." A lump of excitement swelled painfully in my throat and I looked at Evan. He shrugged and smiled. "So we're going to give her and her friends a special treat. So, Sam? Why don't you come up here? Yeah, you girls, too." I started shaking as Annika, Cami, and I made our way up the steps on the side of the stage. "Okay, sweetheart, what's your favorite song?" she asked. "Is It Day or Night?" I choked. "But you already played that, so Dead End Justice." Joan smiled and beckoned to a stagehand, who brought me another microphone. "You be Cherie. I'll be me." I started panting with excitement. ~ 135 ~

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Annika Dixon "Can I play guitar?" I interrupted. Joan looked at me. "You know the chords already?" I nodded vigorously. "Sam wanted me to teach it to her," I said. Joan shrugged and gestured to the stagehand again, who brought me a red Fender with Joan Jett and the Blackhearts painted on the fret board. I grinned and walked stiffly to stage left. "Um, I play drums," Cami said, clearing her throat. Joan looked at her. "You know the song?" she asked. Cami shook her head slowly. Joan frowned. "Well, there's no back up singing in this song." "Cami," I shouted across the stage. "You remember that song we played in my garage last weekend?" Cami nodded. "THAT was Dead End Justice. You remember it?" "OH! I didn't know the name," Cami said, slapping her forehead. "Okay I guess I do know the song." Joan smiled and nodded to her drummer, who stood up and handed Cami his drumsticks. Cami shook her head. "I got my own." "One, two, three, four." I strung the first chord and it rattled pleasantly in my ears. Joan was playing, too, and Sam looked focused as she counted in her head. "I'm a blonde bombshell and I wear it well," she sang. I laughed because she's not really blonde. Funny, the things that hit you when you're stage. "Your mama says you're going straight to hell," Joan sang. "I'm sweet sixteen and a rebel queen and I look real hot in my tight blue jeans." Sam twisted her hips and stared at Mitch through nearly the entire song. We stopped playing after the scream, skipping the talking part. "Thank you!" Joan shouted, waving goodbye. Sam, Cami, and I were escorted off the stage by a security guard. Joan Jett ~ 136 ~

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and the Blackhearts gathered their guitars and drumsticks and went backstage. "That was fucking AWESOME!" Sam cried when we found the guys. "The only thing that would've made that even more exciting would be if I wore Cherie Currie's white corset. You know, the one she wore at the Tokyo concert?" "No, I don‟t know, but I think I would've enjoyed it," Mitch laughed. "I didn‟t know you played guitar so well," Evan said, pulling me towards the snack table. Sam continued to blab about how exciting singing was. "I didn‟t know Sam could sing," I laughed. "She usually sounds pretty terrible when we're in my garage. Then again, Cherie was amazing, yet always high. Maybe Sam needs to start snorting cocaine." "Aw, she can‟t be that bad. Singing always sounds better with a full band, and she was doing an impromptu performance," Evan said. "Oh, you're so kind," I laughed. Suddenly realizing how hungry I was, I starting filling up a plate at the salad bar. Evan went straight for the tiny finger sandwiches. "You eat like a bird," he said, sitting down with me at a table. "You eat like a bear," I replied, stabbing dry lettuce and cheddar cheese with my fork. I was surprised and pleased at how crisp and fresh the lettuce was. That's unusual for Alaska, especially at a cheaply catered prom. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but you look really hot," Evan said, leaning towards me. I smiled, but managed not to blush. "Thanks," I said. "I'd say you look hot, but I'm sure that's nothing new." "It's new to hear it from you," he said. Then he shifted in his seat. "If staying in my room makes you uncomfortable, I don't know if we could tear Sam and Mitch apart, but I bet Bryce and Cami would split up." I laughed. ~ 137 ~

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"I thought you were known for humping anything that moves?" I asked, tearing a piece of lettuce off my fork with my teeth and watching him squirm. "You know I'm not really like that," he said. "Besides, I actually like you. I don't want to scare you away." "I'm metal," I said confidently. "You don't scare me."

~ 138 ~

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Cami Hooper I sat down at the drum set, twirling my drumsticks. I remembered this song being fairly easy, but that didn‟t make me any less nervous when Joan started counting. I broke right into the drumming, my wrists remembering the motions better than my brain. Sam started singing, and I was surprised at how good she sounded. Usually Sam sounds pretty lame when we play in Annika's garage, but we don't care. That's just for fun. Maybe she sounded good because her voice was coupled by Joan Jett's. As we got deeper into the song, I started to enjoy myself even more. I didn‟t realize we were stopping just after the scream, so I kept drumming a little until I realized Annika was pulling the guitar strap off her shoulder. As we were exiting the stage, Sam started going off about how awesome it was. I agreed, and watched as Evan pulled Annika off to another table. Bryce came up to me and grabbed my hand, complimenting me on my drumming skills. "Yeah, I didn‟t realize the song was over though," I laughed. "I was totally gonna keep going." "At least you were really into it," he said, smiling. "Sam clearly was, too." "Yeah, she loves Joan Jett and The Runaways and all that," I laughed. "Anni and I aren't quite as big of fans. We're more inclined to metal." "Not into the slutty rock-chick band thing?" he asked. "Oh don't get me wrong, I love being a slutty rock chick. I just think Sam's more into it than I am." "Are you guys talking about me?" Sam asked, raising her eyebrows. "Oh, yeah," Bryce answered. "Cami called you a slutty rock chick." Sam smiled and gave me a hug, pretending to cry. "Oh, you don‟t know how much that means to me," she said. "I'm so honored you think of me that way." ~ 139 ~

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"You have really low standards," I said flatly. Sam laughed and lightly punched me in the shoulder. "Thanks," she snorted. "Only low standards for friends. I'm up there in the top five best boyfriends category," Mitch joked. Sam smiled. "You're the top one," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. He kissed the top of her head and she sighed. "I'm tired. We should go back to the hotel." "Yeah," I agreed with a yawn. "I know we've got until six in the morning with the limo, but I totally can't stay up that late." Mitch went over to Anni and Evan to tell them we were ready to go. Pretty much everyone else was leaving, too. As we were walking out, Mitch went up to the front desk to say goodbye to Zac. "What's wrong, Mitch?" Sam asked when we got settled in the limo. "You look like you're thinking really hard." "Well… Zac said he saw Jacob and Macy talking. Apparently he had his arm around her and she was crying," Mitch said, his brow furrowed. "Oh so now you're interested in Macy's feelings?" Sam asked with a laugh. Mitch shook his head. "No. I'm just concerned a little." "Why?" "Because Zac said she didn't come back inside, but her car's right there." Mitch pointed out the window to a purple Jeep. "Where did she go?" When we got back to the hotel, Evan opened the connecting doors so we could all watch TV in his and Annika's room. After about an hour, we all got hungry again, so Evan went downstairs to the limo driver and asked him to go to a bar and pick us up some burgers and fries. The driver thought it was funny, and told Evan we were the best customers he'd ever had. "Awesome!" Mitch breathed when the food finally arrived. "I'm starving," Bryce sighed, throwing open a take-out box and shoving fries into his mouth. Annika had ordered a hamburger, too, saying she had had enough lettuce for the day. ~ 140 ~

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"You guys want anything else?" Evan asked, already halfway through his burger. "Room service is 24/7, and they have really good ice cream." "I love ice cream!" Annika cried through a mouthful of French fries. Evan laughed and called room service. Ten minutes later, a bellboy knocked on the door and I opened it. He pushed a freezer cart through the door and stopped it right by the TV, then smiled and left. Inside were ice cream bars, tubs of Ben and Jerry's, and popsicles. "Okay," I said, "it's official. Evan's parents are cooler than Sam's."

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Samantha Steele At three o'clock in the morning, as we were digging into tubs of chocolate-peanut butter ice cream, Evan got a call from his dad. "Sure, see you tomorrow," he said, hanging up. He turned to us. "That was my dad. He said Joan Jett is in the honeymoon suite just above us, and she's willing to give us an hour if we go up there right now." I dropped my spoon back into the ice cream tub (which was now empty) and ran into mine and Mitch's room. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a Cheap Trick t-shirt and ran into the bathroom to change. Looking in the mirror, I was disgusted. My hair was scraggly and greasy looking, my skin was shiny with dried sweat, and my make-up looked a little smudged. Shivering, I brushed out my hair so the curls turned into loose waves and wiped an oilabsorbing pad across my face. I used a little lotion and a cotton swab to clean up my eyes. When I came back into Evan and Anni's room, everyone else was in jeans and t-shirts, too. Mitch took my hand and we all got into the elevator. "Why are you so excited?" Mitch asked. "You already sang a song with her." "Yeah, but now I get pictures with her!" I squealed. Mitch laughed and shook his digital camera at me. "You think I didn‟t take pictures at prom?" "Oh," I said, feeling stupid. The elevator doors opened and we walked down the hall to room 2525: the honeymoon suite. Evan knocked on the door and Joan Jett opened it, a lop-sided grin on her face. "Come in, kiddies!" she cried, throwing open the door and inviting us inside. The rest of the band was lounged on couches and chairs, eating and drinking. "Thirsty?" Joan asked, gesturing towards the open bar. For the fourth time that night, my girls and I got totally (illegally) smashed. Cami couldn‟t stand up without falling and ~ 142 ~

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giggling like crazy, and Annika was passed out in Evan's lap. Joan found a twister mat in the closet (I didn't want to know how it got there), and Bryce and Cami started playing while I attempted to have a conversation with my favorite rock star. "If they ever make a movie about you," I said, my voice breathy (I was trying to keep from slurring), "I want to play you. You are, like, my idol. You are so successful and I want to make an impact like you did, with The Runaways?" "Well, if you want to make an impact, Sammy, you need to get sober," Joan laughed. "Being drunk and high sure was fun, but it didn‟t exactly do wonders for the band. Learn from my mistakes. All that partying gave me wrinkles." "Just get a facelift!" I laughed, throwing my hands in the air. I couldn‟t hold my voice though, so it sounded more like, "Jezz getta faze liff!" Joan laughed and helped me stand up. "Oh no, I tired." "I got her," I heard Mitch say. His cozy arms wrapped around me and I realized I wasn‟t on the ground anymore. "Come on, boozy." "You're such a good boyfriend," I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my head on his shoulder. I heard Annika mumbling "Five more minutes" as Evan woke her up, and Bryce and Cami stumbled and giggled all the way back to their room. I woke up earlier that morning when I heard a door open. I opened my eyes to see the door to the hallway ajar. "Mitch?" I called. I heard a shuffling noise in the hallway and closed my eyes again, assuming he'd gone to get ice or coffee or something. I heard his footsteps come closer and I felt him in front of me, so I reached out my hand to pull him into bed with me. "I love you," I mumbled. "I'll love you when you're dead," he answered. My eyes flew open and my heart started pounding like it used to whenever Zac was around. I just barely had time to see the light glint off the knife before it was embedded in my throat. "What the fuck?" Mitch yelled. I felt the bed move as Mitch jumped over me and tackled my killer. ~ 143 ~

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Choking and struggling to breathe, I wrapped my right hand around the knife and compressed the skin around the blade with my left. I tried desperately to suck in air, blood gurgling in my trachea. I almost pulled the knife out of my throat, desperate for the pain to stop, but for some reason an episode of Angel popped into my head. In the episode, a group of vampires attacked a house and a girl got a piece of glass stuck in her neck. She pulled the glass out and ended up bleeding to death, and Cordelia said if she hadn't pulled the glass out, she might have lived. So I just struggled to sit up, trying to raise my neck above my heart, and tried not to bump the knife while I gently coughed up blood.

~ 144 ~

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Jacob Fastner After I knocked Macy out, I dragged her into the alley behind the hotel and hid her behind a Dumpster, lucky beyond all reason that nobody saw me. I wasn‟t really sure what to do with her. Sam was really the only person I wanted to kill, but now that Macy knew, I couldn‟t let her live. Could I? I had brought duct tape for killing Sam, so I used some to tie Macy's wrists and ankles together and tape her mouth shut. "There. That should keep you quiet," I said, making sure she was secure. I went back to the valet stand and called my mom. "Hi, sweetie," she said. "Is your shift over?" "Uh, no," I lied. "The other valets got sick so I offered to take over. I have some friends staying at the Whitmeister tonight, so I'll just crash with them if that's okay?" "Sure, honey. Just call me if you need a ride." "Will do." I hung up just as the valet for the next shift showed up. "See you later," I said, waving goodbye. I clicked the unlock button on Macy's keys until I heard the honking and saw the lights coming off a purple Jeep Cherokee. I felt a little weird driving a purple car, but it smelled like lavender and really put me in the mood for taking a life. Or two. I pulled the car around back of the hotel and drug Macy into the backseat. She was still knocked out, and although she's very light, apparently I'm really weak because it took me almost thirty minutes to get her halfway across the alley. Panting and sweating, I climbed into the front seat and started the engine. I drove to the Whitmeister, but decided it would be better to park a block or two away. I ended up parking in front of the mall because it was difficult to find street parking. I forgot my wallet at home, so a parking garage was out of the question. Since it was the weekend, street parking was free. I started to walk towards the hotel, but I remembered Macy in the backseat. I shoved her onto the floor and put a ~ 145 ~

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blanket over her, checking to make sure the duct tape was still tight. I made my way to the hotel with a black duffel bag containing rope, duct tape, two knives, and the pistol my dad keeps in his desk drawer and thinks I don‟t know about. As I got closer, I started to get excited, but reminded myself not to get cocky. I walked into the hotel lobby, put a sloppy grin on my face, and went up to the front desk. "Hey," I said slowly, acting a little drunk. "I gotta give this bag back to my friend. Evan Cage? You know what room he's in?" The girl at behind the counter typed on her computer. "Mr. Whitmeister reserved three rooms for his son," she said with a smile. "He should be staying in either 2424, 2425, or 2426. How was prom?" "Oh, it was great," I said. "Thanks." Damn, that was easy. I didn’t know Evan's dad was John Whitmeister! Better avoid killing him, I thought. I got into the elevator and bobbed my head to the piano music playing inside. It took me a minute to figure out all the twists and turns, but eventually I found the three rooms. Listening at the door to 2424, I heard Cami's distinct voice saying, "How much you wanna bet Sam and Mitch passed out while doing it? She was completely wasted! Joan had to help her stand up." "You were completely wasted, too," Bryce said with a laugh. I grinned smugly, hoping Sam was still out of it. It would be much easier to kill her if she was asleep, or at least drunk. I moved over to the next door, 2425. I heard the TV blaring, but I couldn‟t hear any voices. If I walked in and this was Evan and Anni's room, I'd have a tough time explaining. So I waited for ten minutes until I heard a voice. "Anni, you asleep?" Evan called. "Sort of," she called back. Grinning, I moved onto the last room, 2426, and listened at the door for twenty minutes until I was positive that the occupants were asleep. Carefully unzipping my bag, I glanced down the halls to make sure I was alone. Then I slid the knife out and gripped it excitedly. ~ 146 ~

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I slid my bag against the wall by the door hinge and stood flat against it. Then I knocked, loudly. A grumbling noise came from inside, and then Mitch opened the door. I looked through the crack between the door and the frame and was surprised to see he was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. He looked right and left, unable to see me behind the door. Then he muttered something and walked back into the room. As fast as I could, I ran around the front of the door and slid my knife between it and the frame, praying Mitch wouldn‟t turn to make sure it closed all the way. He didn‟t. I waited another thirty minutes (it was now five in the morning) to make sure Mitch had gone back to sleep. Then I slowly opened the door and walked into the room. "Mitch?" Sam called. I didn‟t reply, and neither did Mitch. I walked closer, and she reached out to grab me. "I love you," she mumbled. "I'll love you when you're dead," I answered. Her eyes flew open, giving me the deer-in-the-headlights look. Before I could think, the knife was in her throat, and Mitch was shouting, "What the fuck?"

~ 147 ~

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Zachary Bell My shift ended at four in the morning. I was dead-tired and sick of seeing drunk high school kids wandering through the lobby. Jeff was my relief, and I sleepily thanked him when he took over. When I went out into the parking lot, I saw that Macy's Jeep Cherokee was finally gone. I assumed she and that Jacob kid had hooked up or something. That would be pretty believable, considering all she's done (who she's done) in the past. I found an early-bird coffee shop and bought a triple-shot, hoping to keep myself awake on my drive home. But as I was driving down Fourth Avenue, I accidentally turned too early and had to turn on Fifth Avenue, a one-way going in the opposite direction. I was driving past the mall when I saw Macy's Jeep parked on the sidewalk. Why isn't Macy at home? The mall's closed, and she's three blocks from any hotel. Why did she park here? Curious, and high on caffeine, I pulled into the space in front of Macy's Jeep and got out of my car. I almost got back in when I realized how goofy I was acting, but curiosity got the better of me and I decided to take a look. I looked in her rear windows and saw nothing but a lump on the floor, covered in a blanket. I couldn‟t tell in the darkness, but I thought I saw the outline of a stiletto through the blanket, so I tapped on the window. "Macy?" I called. Suddenly the blanket started moving frantically and I heard Macy screaming my name. "Zac! Zac thank God you found me!" she yelled, her voice muffled by the blanket and the car door. "Macy, what are you doing?" I laughed. "Fuck you!" she screamed. "Get me out of here!" "Macy, just sit up!" I cried. "It's not like you're tied up. You just didn‟t want to drive home wasted, right?" "No, God damn it! Jacob locked me in here!" she screamed. "There's a hide-a-key in the tire well!" ~ 148 ~

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"Wait, Jacob Fastner locked you in here?" I asked, beginning to freak out. "GET THE DAMN KEY!" I set my coffee on the hood of the Jeep and felt under all the tire wells, finding the hide-a-key on the driver's side. I opened the front door and unlocked all the others, then went back to the rear door and pulled the blanket off of Macy. She was laying on the floor, her ankles and wrists bound, a piece of duct tape hanging off her left cheek. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked, unbinding her wrists with my Leatherman. I looked at her now crooked nose and assumed it was broken. She saw me staring and winced. "That psycho Jacob kid told me he was going to kill Sam, and I flipped, so he knocked me out, and next thing I know, I'm tied up under a blanket in my own fucking car!" "How'd you get the duct tape off your face?" "When you breathe on it a lot the stickiness wears off. I was in there for hours! I rubbed my cheek on the carpet and the seat until it came off. There wasn‟t much I could do. It was really uncomfortable down there." Macy got out of the car and stretched, yawning. Then she rolled her shoulders and looked at me. "Well, I guess we better go save the girl Mitch stole from you. The girl who stole Mitch from me," she sighed. "Isn't it weird we're saving a girl who fucked things up for both of us? I hope she didn‟t die already." "Wait, he was serious?" I shouted. "We've gotta call the police!" Macy nodded affirmatively and got her cell phone out of her purse, which apparently Jacob had placed under her. She dialed 911 while we were in the car. As she was talking to the police, I broke every speed limit to make it to the Whitmeister in less than a minute. Macy was arguing with the 911 operator. "I'm telling you, I'm not drunk, and I'm not high! Jacob Fastner is going to kill Samantha Steele! And probably Mitchell Mantel and everyone else!" she shouted as I pulled into the Whitmeister parking lot. ~ 149 ~

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"Macy, I gotta go in," I said. She looked at me in anguish. "Zac, they just won't listen! They say the Whitmeister has impeccable security and that I'm just paranoid! Oh, fuck you!" she added to the operator. "Which is why I have to do something," I said. Macy nodded. "Go," she said. "I'll argue with the police." I ran into the hotel and up to the front desk, where a young girl was doodling on a notepad. "I need to see Evan Cage," I said immediately, knowing Evan's dad reserved all the rooms. "Are you with that other boy?" she asked. "He was kind of ugly. Not someone I'd expect to be hanging around a Whitmeister. But it's prom night. I didn't want to ruin anyone's fun so I told him where to go." "Uh, no, I'm not," I said. "But he's the reason I'm here." "Oh, well, Mr. Whitmeister reserved three rooms for his son. They are: 2424, 2425, and 2426," she had to call out the last number to me, because I was running towards the elevators. I slammed my finger onto the up button. The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive. The doors closed behind me too slowly. The elevator music made me even more nervous, and the ride up to the twenty-fourth floor was so slow I wished I'd taken the stairs. When it finally arrived on the correct floor, I squeezed out of the doors before they were even halfway open. "Fuck!" I cried, realizing how complicated the old hotel was. I ran through four hallways and found the ice-room twice before I realized I was on the wrong side of the elevators. In my panic, it took me three minutes to find the correct rooms. But 2426 was the only room with an open door. I heard grunting and smacking noises inside long before I reached the door. As I ran past 2425, I heard the TV being turned up. I slid into the room to find Mitch and Jacob rolling on the floor, Mitch beating the living daylights out of that little twerp. I wanted to help, but I was frozen. Sam was struggling to sit up on the bed, a knife stuck in her neck, blood covering her chest and beginning to spread onto ~ 150 ~

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the sheets and pillow. The only thing I managed to do was shout, "HELP! MURDER!" The connecting door flew open and Evan stood there in his boxers and a t-shirt. "What's going on?" he demanded. But then he saw me standing in the doorway, Sam bleeding on the bed, and Mitch and Jacob fighting on the floor. "Oh, shit," he said. "What's going-" Annika interrupted herself with a scream. "SAM!" By now other people had started coming out of their rooms to see what all the fuss was about. Annika ran to the bed to help Sam, and Evan pulled Jacob off of Mitch. I backed into the hallway and saw a black bag, unzipped, behind the door. The light glinted off a shiny metal pistol. Without thinking, I grabbed the gun and ran back in the room, my eyes instantly focusing on Jacob. He was standing with his back to me, having just punched Evan in the face, knocking him over. Mitch was struggling to stand up. Jacob turned and his eyes landed on the gun. "Mitch, get down!" I shouted. Annika screamed. Sam made a gurgling noise. I pulled the trigger.

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Mitchell Mantel I was asleep, my arm wrapped tightly around my girlfriend, when I heard someone knock loudly on the door. Grumbling, I stood up and stumbled to the door, my head pounding with a monstrous hangover. When I looked out into the hallway, I didn‟t see anyone. I glanced back and forth a few times before I decided I must have dreamt it and went back to bed. Only this time, I slept with my back to my girlfriend, on the bedside opposite the door. My left shoulder was sore from sleeping on it. Sometime later, I heard Sam mumbling in her sleep, but then I heard a male voice say, "I'll love you when you're dead." I sat up just in time to see Jacob stab Sam in the throat. I wanted to shout or growl or do something frightening, but I could only manage, "What the fuck?" I jumped over Sam, afraid to look at her neck, and tackled Jacob. I began furiously slamming my fists into his face, trying to do as much damage as possible, hopefully knock the little weasel out. Someone appeared in the door - I didn‟t look up to see who - and called for help. Evan opened the connecting door just as Jacob got the upper hand and rolled on top of me, punching me in the eye. I got a chance to look at his face - his nose bloody, most likely broken, his busted lip, bleeding eyebrow - and felt a little bit of sick pride. But suddenly Jacob was off of me, punching Evan in the face and knocking him down. I tried to stand up, but my knee was aching from slamming into the floor when I jumped on Jacob. I was half-way up when I heard Zac shout, "Mitch, get down!" I obeyed, dropping lazily to the floor. I heard Annika scream, Sam gurgle, and a gunshot. Jacob fell to the floor in slow motion, clutching his chest. Panting, I turned my head to look at Zac, who was standing with a smoking gun. Again. ~ 152 ~

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Not wasting time in celebration, I shouted, "We need an ambulance!" The ambulance raced through the downtown streets to the hospital. I couldn‟t believe Sam was still alive. The knife was still in her neck, but the EMTs were cleaning the wound, preparing her for surgery. She had on an oxygen mask, but it still looked like she was struggling to breathe. "I should've checked the door," I whispered, holding her hand. Even though she was dying, Sam managed to roll her eyes at me. A smile tugged at my lips, but never truly came through. "Is she alright?" Mrs. Steele cried when she saw me in the waiting room. "I... I don't know yet," I stammered. Mrs. Steele started to cry. Her husband hugged her close. "She's in surgery. I'm… I'm sorry." "It's not your fault," Mr. Steele said, stroking his wife's hair. "Who did this?" "Jacob Fastner," I said. "I don't really know why. But he's dead." "Did you kill him?" Mr. Steele asked, his voice stern. I shook my head. "Zac Bell did. He's in police custody now. They took him away." "Thank you," Mr. Steele said gruffly, "for helping." I nodded. Hours later, Mrs. Steele shook me awake. "The doctor has news honey," she said. Dried tears covered her cheeks. I sat up, eager to listen. "She's stabilized," the doctor said. "She's going to live." A breath caught in my throat. He didn‟t say, "She's going to be fine" he said, "She's going to live." Live as a vegetable? Brain activity, but a coma? She's going to be paralyzed? "What does that mean?" I choked. The doctor took a deep breath. ~ 153 ~

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"It means she might not ever be able to speak again," he said. "And we don't know how long she'll be in a coma. She lost a lot of blood, and her spinal cord was nicked. So far we haven't seen any brain or nerve damage, however. But the knife did plenty of damage to her vocal chords. They'll heal, but at this point it's hard to tell how the scar tissue will affect her voice. The only comfort I can give you is that she won't be in pain while she's in the coma." That's a comfort? I sat by Sam's bed every day for two weeks. I still had to go to school, but I spent the rest of my time at the hospital. The Friday following the incident, the school held a memorial service for Jacob. I skipped it to visit Sam, as did Evan, Bryce, Annika, Cami, Taylor, Caten, and quite a few others. I heard only about one-hundred kids attended - out of South's 1,500. The day of the service, a huge group of us - about twenty - ordered pizza and soda and watched some of Sam's favorite movies together in her hospital room, hoping she'd wake up and join the fun. She didn‟t. But finally, after three weeks of being comatose, Sam's fingers twitched. It was seven o'clock in the evening, on a Friday, and I'd been planning on going home in about an hour. But now that she was twitching, I was afraid to leave. I didn‟t want her to be alone when she woke up. I started talking to her, telling her about my classes and the situation with Zac - he was in prison, waiting to be tried as an adult. I ended up falling asleep after a few hours. I woke up at four in the morning because Sam's fingers were twitching underneath my hand again. I lifted my head off the bed and looked at her face just in time to see her eyes move beneath her eyelids. Anxious, I sat up and softly called her name. Her whole arm twitched and she moved her head, groaning. I called her name more eagerly. But then she completely relaxed and went limp. ~ 154 ~

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I started to cry. I fell asleep again and had a nightmare. I was reliving the night Sam was stabbed, only this time she actually died. The ambulance simply never showed up. The limo was gone. We had no way of getting her to hospital. The hotel was empty. Sam was dead. I woke up with a start, my hand squeezing Sam's. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her chest gently rising and falling with each breath. "Mitchell honey," Sam's mom said behind me. "Did you stay here all night?" "Yeah," I said with a nod, rubbing my eyes. Sam's mom plopped a bag of doughnuts on the bedside table. "You want me to get you a coffee?" she asked. I shook my head. "No, no, I need to stretch my legs." "Why were you here all night?" "Her fingers were twitching," I said. I would've told Mrs. Steele about the incident in the middle of the night, but I was afraid to give her false hope, in case Sam didn‟t really wake up. I walked down to the basement to get a cup of coffee, and then brought it back up to Sam's room. Her mom was eating a doughnut and reading the newspaper. She looked up when she saw me. "Feel free to dig into the doughnuts," she said, folding the paper and finishing her pastry. "If you'll watch her, I'm going to ask the doctor about her progress." I sat down in my chair and tucked in to a doughnut, suddenly realizing how hungry I was. It was ten in the morning, and sunlight was blazing in from the windows. I held Sam's hand and closed my eyes, enjoying the heat of the sun on my face. "Today's the day you're going to wake up," I said quietly. "Because if you don't, I'm going to give up," I added with a sigh.

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Samantha Steele My eyes opened, but the harsh lighting made me squeeze them shut again. I heard a shuffling noise. "Sam?" Mitchell called my name softly. I tried to say something in return, but all that came out was a cough. Pain suddenly ripped through my throat and I realized I couldn't speak. "Don't try to talk," Mitch said. "Your wounds are still healing." He looked at me with a tiny smile. "I knew you'd wake up today." Wake up? My wounds? Wait, I'm still ALIVE? Suddenly everything came flooding back. I remembered the open door, calling to Mitch, seeing the knife, Jacob stabbing me… I remembered choking and gurgling, trying to breathe. Despite the pain, I flicked my eyes open and struggled to sit up. Mitch put an arm under my shoulders and helped me prop myself up on the pillows. I opened and closed my mouth, afraid to try speaking again. "Your throat," Mitch said, guiding my fingers to my neck. I felt bandages. Right next to my trachea, on the right side, I felt a hard crunchiness under the bandages. Stitches. "That's where Jacob stabbed you. You almost died." I started to cry silently. My chest wanted to release a wail of agony, but I was afraid to use my damaged vocal chords. Mitch held me gently, avoiding my neck. The wound was sore, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the fear I would never be able to speak again. "Are you feeling any better today?" Dr. Herman asked me. He was a tall, attractive man with dark, wavy hair and blue eyes - just the comforting look you wanted in the person nursing you back to health. I nodded. It had been a month since I woke up, and although I could manage whispers now, it still hurt to talk most of the time. Dr. Herman looked over my progress on a clipboard while a nurse took my temperature and blood pressure. He came closer to me and began peeling off my neck bandages. ~ 156 ~

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"It seems to be healing very nicely," he said. "But you'll have a nasty scar, there's not much we can do about that. The good news is, your progress is excellent. You should be released within the next few days, and you should have full use of your vocal chords in a month or two. Can you speak above a whisper at all?" "A little," I said quietly, my voice raspy and painfully sharp. "But it hurts a lot," I added in a whisper. Dr. Herman smiled with concern. "I know. Try a little each day, just to check your healing. But don't hurt yourself. That'll only make things worse." That night, I heard a shuffling in the hallway. I rolled over to look out my door, which was open. Angry at the nurse who left it that way, I slowly stood up and went to close it. There was an old woman in the hallway, and she looked confused. She noticed me staring, and came closer. "I can't find my room," she said in a tiny, high pitched voice. "I got out of bed for a snack, and now I'm lost." "I don't know where your room is, lady," I said quietly. My voice had improved a little since this morning. "Well, I thought I knew, but when I went in, there was another old woman in my bed." The lady leaned forward and beckoned me to listen closer. "I think she was dead." I stared at the old woman for a moment, then stepped back in my room and closed the door. I heard her shuffle away, muttering about pretty white lights. The next morning, I woke early as the nurses were making their rounds. My mom had left a note on my bedside table saying she was having breakfast downstairs, and I should come join her if I woke up, otherwise she'd bring me something. I threw the note in the trash can and got dressed in a Joan Jett t-shirt, my South sweat pants, and a pair of memory foam slippers Taylor had bought me to wear in the hospital. When I opened my door, there was a crowd of people three doors down the hallway. I walked towards them and saw the old woman from the night before. She was asleep on a gurney. As ~ 157 ~

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I got closer, I realized she wasn't simply asleep: she was dead. I gasped. "Don't be so upset," one of the nurses said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I stared at her. "Mrs. O'Malley died sometime in her sleep last night. She was very old, and on a lot of pain medication. I promise you, the nice old lady did not suffer." My gaze flickered from the old woman to the nurse a few times before I turned and went downstairs. I found my mom in the cafeteria, eating eggs Benedict with my dad and my brother Terry. She smiled when she saw me, and got up to get me some breakfast. Terry offered me a doughnut, which I began to chew on absently. My dad asked if I was feeling any better, as he did every morning. I nodded and took a long drink of hot chocolate, the heat soothing my aching throat. When my mom came back with a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast, I realized just how hungry I was and ate with a vengeance.

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Samantha Steele "I'm so glad I have my voice back!" I said for the millionth time. It had been three months since my injury, and I finally had full use of my vocal cords. "I don't think you've ever talked this much," Mitch said with a laugh. "I remember when your communications were simply head nods." I laughed, too, because he was right. Ever since I realize I could talk without pain, I took advantage of every opportunity to do so. The scar tissue had altered my voice a little, so it was now a little raspy and much huskier. Mitch thought it was sexy, and he was a little disappointed Dr. Herman said that eventually that should go away. Something I'd noticed about two weeks after I healed was that I could suddenly sing. My voice before had been absolutely terrible for singing, but now it had a deep, almost rusty sound, and Annika and Cami and I loved to get together and sing The Runaways songs. My favorite was Dead End Justice, because Annika and I could duet, and it reminded me of the time I got to sing with the real Joan Jett. Zac had been arrested. He was in jail now. Mitch, Evan, and Austin went to see him every Sunday. I wanted to see him, too, to tell him how sorry I was, but I couldn‟t bring myself to do it. I wasn‟t sure if it would help, or make things harder on him. The last thing I wanted to do was cause him any more problems. As far as I knew, Jacob had died in the hotel room. I don‟t know if it's crazy, but no part of me was remotely remorseful. Everyone else involved seemed relieved he was gone, but Cami felt like it was all her fault for dating him. We all tried our hardest to make her realize it wasn't her fault. He was just insane. "We are going to be huge," Annika said. We were in her garage and had just finished performing Bad Things by Jace Everett for her dog, who was yipping happily. I took a deep breath and grabbed the bag of sandwiches my mom had made us ~ 159 ~

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out of Annika's mini fridge. I also got out some sodas, and we all sat down to eat lunch and take a break. "I'm glad it's summer and we get a lot of chances to practice," Cami said, taking a bite of her pastrami sandwich. "We should do Battle of the Bands next year. We missed it this year 'cause Sam had to go and get stabbed and all." "Yeah, well, thanks for dating a lunatic," I said, throwing my sandwich wrapper at her. She laughed a little. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I never saw it coming." Annika burst out laughing. "How many times did he tell you he wished Sam was dead?" she choked through tears of humor. "I'm surprised he didn‟t do it sooner!" "It's not her fault," I said. "Seriously, anybody could have missed it. It's not like they generally test for serial killer attributes on the school aptitude test." "Yeah, and if they did, we'd all be put in padded rooms," Cami snorted. "Sam gets stabbed in the throat and uses it as a chance to become famous. Annika met her boyfriend at a metal show called 'Bloodsplurge,' and I dated a serial killer." "He wasn't a serial killer," I commented. "Yet," I added. "We‟d get stuck in padded rooms because we think all this is funny," Annika said seriously, taking a swig of her soda. Cami and I nodded in agreement. "Let's face it. We‟re all psychos." "Tell me something I don't know," I said with a laugh. Mitch and I were walking down a dirt path alongside Campbell Creek. It was a beautiful summer day, even if it was only fifty degrees. The sky was pale blue and the creek was making a soft rushing sound I found very soothing. There were birds singing in the trees, and the occasional rustle among the bushes of a rabbit hopping away. Mitch and I were holding hands. Mitch was also holding a picnic basket full of sandwiches, drinks, and snacks. I had a thick red blanket draped over my arm, and we were almost to the small clearing where we intended to picnic. ~ 160 ~

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When we got there, I spread the blanket on a soft patch of grass and Mitch opened the picnic basket. We talked and ate and laughed for an hour, feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries and throwing bread crumbs to the birds. After we finished eating, Mitch laid down on his back and I cuddled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. After a minute or two, I felt my own heart begin to beat in sync with his. We were silent for a long time, just enjoying being together, until I heard Mitch speak to me. "Oh my God, I love you so much," he said. I grinned and looked up at him. He was looking at me fondly. "I love you, too, Mitch," I said. Confusion crossed Mitch's face. "What do you mean, you love me, too?" he asked, bewildered. "You just said, 'Oh my God, I love you so much,'" I repeated. "So I said I love you, too. How much clearer can I be?" "Sam… I didn't say that," he said quietly. I stared at him confusedly. "What do you mean, you didn‟t say it? I heard you." "I didn't say it out loud. I thought it."

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Epilogue Zachary Bell Just After The Incident I was sitting in the back of the police cruiser, handcuffed to the door handle. It was slightly uncomfortable, but there wasn't much I could do about it. As I stared at the window, the fact I'd been up since seven o'clock the previous morning began to hit me. My eyelids drooped, and before I knew it, I was asleep. Sam and I are together, but she's wearing weird clothes. I look closer and realize she's dressed in a white robe-like thing with a gold rope belt around the middle, like a Greek princess or something. She's staring at me over a wine goblet (A goblet? Really, subconscious?) and smiling. My lips curl into a smile, too, and I take a step forward. I feel the cobblestones under my feet and look down to see I'm wearing leather sandals. I'm surprised to see I'm also in a toga. Suddenly my lower half feels breezy and exposed, and I lift my head up to look at Sam, but she's gone. "Wake up," the cop said, tapping the gate separating us with his flashlight. "We're almost to the station, kid." I reached up to rub my eyes, but my wrists stopped when I pulled the handcuff chain taut. Sighing, I blinked hard and shook my head, trying to stay awake. The cops un-cuffed and led me into the station, a firm hand gripping each of my arms. They sat me down in a chair by a cluttered desk and cuffed me to the armrest, and then left. I had a little more room now, so I arched my back and relaxed as it popped. I rolled and stretched my neck as much as possible. And just when my butt started to get sore, a large, burly man walked over and sat down in front of me. "Hullo, Zac," he said, dropping a file onto his desk. "I hear you're in for murder, son." ~ 162 ~

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"Yes, sir," I said quietly, clearing my throat. The man searched my eyes for a moment and cleared his throat, too. "Well, why'd you do it?" he asked suddenly, as if he'd been waiting for me to tell him the whole time. I swallowed hard and my palms began to sweat. "He stabbed one of my friends in the neck," I said, trying desperately to avoid eye contact. The man drummed his fingers on the file. "Sounds like a pretty damn good reason to me," he said, to my relief and surprise. "Do you know why he did it?" "No, sir," I said, shaking my head. "All I know is that he didn't like her." "Had he talked about killing her before?" I hesitated before nodding my head. It was true. Mitch told me about it. Jacob had said he wanted Sam dead often. In fact, it was kind of a sick joke between the lot of us. "Why didn't anyone go to the police?" the cop asked, interrupting my thoughts. "W-we didn‟t think he was serious," I stammered. "He's so… He's so wimpy. None of us thought he'd ever go through with it." "You don't go to South, do you?" the cop asked. I shook my head. "Then how did you end up in Sam's hotel room?" "Macy told me about Jacob," I said. "And how did you find her?" "I was driving home and I saw her car parked by the mall. It didn't make sense for her to park there since she lives in south Anchorage, and the mall is two blocks from any hotel. So I tapped on her window and found her in there, all taped up." "And who did that to her?" "She said Jacob did. She said Jacob told her he was going to kill Sam, and she freaked so he knocked her out and hid her under a blanket in her own car." "And how did he get the keys to that car?" "He was one of the volunteer valets. Listen I don't see how-" "And how did you get into Macy's car?" "She told me where the hide-a-key was. Sir-" ~ 163 ~

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"How did she do that if she was locked in the car?" "She shouted at me! Listen to me! I really think-" "Someone will be back to ask you further questions," the cop said, standing up and leaving. He took the file with him. I sighed and slumped in the chair, defeated. Nobody was going to listen to me. I was just a stupid teenager who'd recently shot someone. They really had no reason to believe me. Half an hour later, I was staring at the ceiling and counting the ticks on the clock. My arm was starting to cramp up, but I didn‟t really have a way of stretching it out. "Are you going to bolt?" a woman asked from behind me. I twisted my neck to look at her and was glad I was handcuffed to the chair. Otherwise I may have fallen out of it. I shook my head as the woman walked around me to sit at the desk. She had long, wavy chestnut colored hair and electrically green eyes. She was average height but very skinny, and for a moment I thought this was what Sam would look like when she grew up. Except she'd have freaky blue eyes, not green ones. "My name is Detective Brookheart, but you can call me Alice," she said. "Now, if I can find your file, I can un-cuff you and we discuss this at my desk." "The guy took it with him," I said. Alice's head snapped up and she stared at me. "What guy?" she snapped. "The cop that was questioning me earlier," I said. Alice's nostrils flared in anger and an angry glint flashed in her eyes. She stood up abruptly and stalked away, leaving me extremely confused. I sat in the chair for another thirty minutes. I hoped the police were making me wait because they were catching other bad guys. That hope was immediately shattered when a guy in a Hawaiian shirt came hustling through the office, offering the cops doughnuts and Danishes. "Alright," somebody said from behind me, making me jump. I turned my head to see Alice slowly chewing a glazed doughnut and reading a file. ~ 164 ~

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"Can I be un-cuffed now?" I asked. "My hand is asleep." Alice looked up in surprise, but she nodded and tucked the file under her arm. "Of course," she said, rifling through a huge set of keys. When she found the right one, Alice unlocked my handcuffs and I stretched my arms out. "Follow me," she beckoned, and I followed her down the long row of desks and into another room, also full of desks. "Brookheart!" a man shouted from across the room. "You taking the Fastner case?" Alice nodded and tilted her head towards me. "This is the killer himself," she said flatly. Most of the people in the room turned to look at me, and I cringed, pulling into myself. "He was going to kill Sam," I said quietly. "I had to do something." Alice turned to me, a guilty look on her face. "Oh no, honey, I know. I work in homicide." She put her hand on my shoulder and gestured to the room. "We're proud of you, Zac." I slowly pulled away from her, afraid. Proud of me? Were they insane? I killed someone! And I don't even feel guilty about it. I feel no remorse whatsoever. I'm proud, too. "Don't look so freaked out," Alice laughed. I cocked my head. "I'd much rather deal with you than that psycho kid you killed. I looked at his file. Lots of mental problems. There were only three places that kid could've ended up: a padded cell, a prison cell, or a wooden cell." I shivered. "Come on," she said brightly, an arm around my shoulders. She led me over to a desk and gestured for me to sit down. "Tell me all about this mysteriously injured Sam, her boyfriend, yourself, and your murder victim. Don't leave any details out! No matter how gruesome, I want to know!" I told Alice everything, including how I met Sam and why I felt obligated to kill for her. From the look on her face, I could tell Alice was touched that I would kill for my best friend's ~ 165 ~

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girlfriend. It irked me a little, but I figured I could use it to my advantage. "If I didn‟t respect you before," Alice said when I finished, "I think I'm in love with you now. You're like… you're like Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer! I love it. We can use this. With any luck, we'll win over the feminine side of the jury." "Wait, you're my lawyer?" I asked in disbelief. "Oh, hell no," Alice said. "In fact, I'm technically on the side against you. But just know I'm rooting for you, Mr. Bell. I'll do everything I can to make you look good in that courtroom. It'll be tough, considering who Mrs. Fastner hired as her lawyer." "She gets to choose the lawyer?" "Well… Anchorage is very small compared to the rest of the country. Mrs. Fastner has friends in extremely high places. Nose-bleed high places. This is going to be a difficult trial on both sides. Can I get you anything before the formal questioning?" "This wasn‟t the questioning?" I groaned. Alice shook her head sadly. "Sorry, kid. This is just preliminary. You shot and killed someone. There's a lot of paperwork that goes with that. And with what happened at the morgue… There's a lot more paperwork. Fortunately for all of us, you're cooperating. It's much harder when we actually have to find the killer." "If I could go back, I'd simply shoot him in the leg," I said. "Well, there'd be paperwork for that, too. Anyway, are you hungry? Thirsty? There's a café down the street. I could pick up something for you. Burgers?" "I would love a bacon cheeseburger right now," I said, my mouth already beginning to water. My stomach growled angrily. "There's some leftover doughnuts in the break room," Alice said with a laugh. "Why don't I bring you one to tide you over until I get back?" I ate the maple doughnut quickly, but it didn‟t stave off my hunger much. I wiped my sticky fingers on my pants and looked around the room, taking in all the action. ~ 166 ~

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A tall, burly black cop was interrogating what looked like a hooker. A strung-out guy was handcuffed to a metal folding chair. A nine-year-old girl was eating a chocolate doughnut, tears sliding down her red face. A female cop was talking to her in a soothing voice. I seemed to be the only person in here without any problems. Well, aside from the fact I was about to go to jail for murdering someone. I wasn‟t on drugs, I wasn‟t getting paid to have sex with strangers in a state where it was illegal, and my parents were alive. They were dead to me, but technically still alive. And suddenly I smiled. For once in my life, I was better than somebody. I lived a better life than these people. I had a better chance at having a future than these people. Well, maybe not the little girl. But the hooker was probably going to die of AIDS, and the junkie looked like he was about to die sitting in that red metal chair. And, I was probably smarter than them. That was the real shocker. I sat at Alice's desk for thirty minutes, feeling better about myself every time a new criminal came in. A few cops actually patted me on the shoulder as they walked by, as if silently thanking me. Alice came back just as the junkie in the red folding chair began to scream about sobering up. She rolled her eyes at him and plopped a take-out bag on her desk. "Dig in," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "Agent Barkley will be giving you your formal questioning in about an hour, and if he finds out I fed you he'll try to get me fired." "Why?" I asked through a mouthful of French fries. Alice sighed and sat back in her chair. "Well, Mrs. Fastner is saying Jacob attacked Sam in selfdefense. She obviously wasn‟t there, and there are so many witnesses on your side… I don't know how she did it, but this case got handed over to the FBI." "What?" I choked. "I have four people who saw me kill him, one who saw him stab Sam, and this case isn't already solved?" ~ 167 ~

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"I'm sorry, kid," Alice said. "I know it sounds totally crazy. But the truth is…" "What?" I demanded when she paused. "The truth is what?" "He died, but he's not exactly dead."

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Backstage lied about my age, didn't are that you were older Stop, look, listen, to my heartbeat Heartbeat The Runaways

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AUTHOR'S NOTE I wrote this book the summer before my junior year of high school. My sophomore year was extremely tough. I lost a lot of friends, but I gained some very meaningful ones, too. My family always told me sophomore year was the hardest, whether you're in high school or college. I believe that now! Although this story is fiction, it has a lot of real elements in it. For example, South Anchorage High School is a real high school I truly did attend. Almost all of my characters are based on real people, and almost everywhere mentioned in the book (except the Whitmeister Hotel) is a real place. And, of course, Joan Jett is a real rock star, and The Runaways is my favorite band! (My senior year, I was Cherie Currie for Halloween - in her white corset! I even have the famous cherry tattoo.) In fact, the beginning of the story - up until Zac quit talking to me - actually happened. There really was a super hot guy in my computers class who asked for my number, and I really did screw it up. I've never even spoken to Mitchell, but he was really hot! However, I did make up the parts from everyone else's perspectives (I seriously doubt Zac has a stripper for a sister, or has ever killed anyone). Annika truly is my best friend. Her name is pronounced Aw-ni-kuh, not Anne-i-ka or A-nee-ka. (She gets really mad when people say it wrong.) Besides the people on my dedication page, there are a few others I'd like to thank, and some I'd simply like to talk more about! Of course I'm going to thank Zac. Without him, this never would have happened. The middle and the end may be false, but the beginning is completely true. All those feelings, thoughts, words... I really felt those. Zac truly was the first guy I couldn't breathe for. Now it seems a little dumb, a school girl crush, but hey, look at Chloe Sullivan's crush on Clark Kent. It inspired her to do great things, even if she was just the pretend best friend of pretend superhero. Next, I'm going to thank Taylor. She has a place in this book, albeit a small one. But she always felt free to yell and scream at me when I was being a drama queen. We had a lot of ~ 170 ~

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ugly fights, mostly about me being a dumbass, but if I really needed someone, Taylor was always there in the flesh. You don't know Joel Martens, but you will. I changed his life, he changed mine. After meeting him, I never thought of guys the same way. I realized that some guys really are like my brothers. They love you because of who you are, and you really can be just friends. Our friendship wasn't as strong as my others, but it held a lot of meaning, and I'm ever grateful I met him, despite how he turned out (and the fact most of my friends rather dislike him). You don't know Morgen, either, but she's made a major impact on me. I'm not so scared of breaking the rules anymore. I'm still a good kid, but I get a chance to be free. She also brought me together with Cayley, who filled in the gaping hole of Annika fairly well. Although Anni stays with Sam throughout the story, the truth is, my best friend moved to North Dakota during Christmas break, leaving me completely devastated. But in my sophomore year, Morgen and Cayley made me feel a lot better about myself (and a lot more loved), even though they had no clue what they were doing, and Morgen and I ended up hating each other less than a year later. But whatever; the change stuck even though the friendship didn‟t. Cami, of course, was willing to sit through hours of my complaints or gushes or tears. No matter what, she's always willing to listen. She doesn't think of herself the way the rest of us do, but if she did, she'd realize how truly amazing she is. We didn't stay super close throughout the rest of high school, but I always knew I could trust her, and she did talk me into a few wild things - like the Miss Fitness contest my sophomore year! I stood on stage in front of my entire school in a leopard print bikini for that girl! Got to love her. And of course, I can't forget my best friend of all time. Annika Dixon, I miss you. I don't cry about people very often, but I cried a lot when I wrote this book. I know I'm a good writer, but I feel like nothing I can say or type will truly express how much I miss you, how good of friend you truly are. Just know I love you to death and beyond, whether we share the same blood or not. ~ 171 ~

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So to all of you I dedicate this book. There are many others, of course, who influenced my writing, but you six meant the most to me. I love you, and I owe my life and my career to you all. Oh, and of course I must thank my beautiful editor: Melodye Mericle. Without you, I would have published this book without a second thought and made myself look really stupid. I love you!

Disclaimer: Although all the characters (except Macy) are based on real people, their names have been changed, or kept the same with permission of the person, and this story is entirely fictional.

Turn the page for an exciting sneak-peek at the sequel, Jailbirds!

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Is it day or night? Porcupine kiss, Novocain lips Is it day or night? White flowers weep In their warm dust sleep And it's dog eat dog tonight Is it day or night? The Runaways

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Chapter One Alice was about to answer my flurry of questions when the police chief waddled into the room behind me. He was a large man - to say the least - and he carried a gooey doughnut in one hand and a giant cup of coffee in the other. "That boy," the chief called, pointing his doughnut at me, "should be in a cell, not learning vital information about his own prosecution!" Alice sat up straight, her mouth now a thin line. Not sure what to do, I wolfed down the last bite of the burger and hastily wiped my mouth. "Did you FEED HIM?" the chief bellowed. Alice shook her head violently and shoved a fry into her mouth. "He was brought in on my lunch break," she said quickly. The chief eyed me suspiciously, but he walked into his office without another word. "Come on," Alice said, standing up. "I better get you into a cell before I get fired." Alice led me down another hallway into a long, cement room of holding cells. There were a few drunk old men and the hooker from earlier, but most of the cells were empty. I was placed in the one farthest from the door.

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"I'm sorry it has to come to this," Alice said. "But our interrogation rooms are currently full. Otherwise I'd let you wait in there." "How many people were arrested today?" I joked. Alice sighed. "Twenty-four, including the hooker and the two drunks. But we didn‟t have to interview them." "What were they all arrested for?" I asked, bewildered. "We did a drug bust out in Government Hill," Alice said, leaning against the bars of my cell. She nodded towards the hooker. "We picked her up there, too. Anyway, I can't really make you any more comfortable, but at least I fed you." I watched Alice walk away and close the heavy door behind her. Sighing, I lay down on the hard metal bench in the cell and bent my knees to take pressure off my aching back. Just as I closed my eyes, the hooker whispered to me. “Zac?” she asked. I opened one eye and stared straight into my sister‟s face. “Hey, little brother.” “Lily! You got busted for hooking? Are you nuts?” I exploded, sitting up and gripping the bars between us. I shook my head. “Oh, you‟re one to talk,” she scoffed, folding her arms across her scantily clad chest. “YOU‟RE in jail, too, lil‟ bro.” “Fair enough,” I said, nodding. “Murder is worse than hooking.” “MURDER?” my sister squeaked, shrinking away from me. “Who did you murder?” “Jacob Fastner,” I growled.

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“Zachary, why the hell would you murder someone?” Lily gasped, clutching her chest. “He was trying to kill Mitch‟s girlfriend. I hope she‟s all right.” “You mean that little girl all you boys are in love with? Someone wanted to kill her?” “And he would have succeeded, too, if I hadn‟t found Macy tied up in her car and gone to the hotel.” “You lost me…” Lily said, her eyes wide. I began to relay the entire incident to her. I was about halfway through when an officer came through the door and unlocked my cell. “Time for your interview,” the officer said. “Good luck,” Lily called after me. For more information and to check the progress on Jailbirds, visit my website: www.stuffbysam.com

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