two….

After school, I parted with Plum and walked to the west wing parking lot to meet Dustin for our little "date," if you can even call it that. As I approached my convertible, I felt a rough hand touch my bare shoulder.

"Hey, Karmin," Dustin's Seth Cohen accent spoke from behind me.

I turned around and smiled softly. "Are you ready for our little cruise around town?"

"Cruise?" he asked in bewilderment. "This is such a small town; it would be fun to walk…. Don't you think so?"

I laughed, obviously thinking he was joking. When I finally realized that he wasn't, I frowned. "I'm not walking around town in heels, Dustin."

He looked at my feet and nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, maybe we can drive to the nearest shoe store and buy you a pair of flip-flops." Then he looked at me and added, "That is, if flip-flops aren't out of style already."

I rolled my eyes before the laugh I was trying so desperately to stifle erupted through my mouth. "You know what, I'll drive back to my house and get a pair of flip-flops. They aren't fully out of style yet."

"Great!" Dustin smiled. "Do you have a couple of bikes lying around too?"

"Oh no," I shook my head. "I see where you're trying to take this, surfer boy. I am not going to ride a bike around the strip."

"Like the Vegas strip?" he asked in confusion.

"No," I said as I unlocked the convertible, "the shopping strip like Rodeo Drive in L.A. or 5th Avenue in New York City? It'll be the best place to start our little date."

"Date?" Dustin smiled. "I didn't know you took things this fast, Karmin. If I'd have known, I would have proposed a long-"

"Shut up and get in the car," I laughed.

::….::….::….::

Once I changed into a pair of Gucci thongs- the closest thing to flip-flops that I had- I allowed Dustin to drive us to the strip. Apparently, in San Diego, the only vehicle he rode in was his bicycle and his parents always had their cars at work with them.

After he parked in the parking lot, we walked into the crowded shopping strip.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked.

Dustin shrugged. "I don't know. This is your territory; I have no clue what Hawthorne teenagers do without a beach."

I shook my head. Of course. If it sounded like a surfer, looked like a surfer, and wore seashell necklaces like a surfer- it was definitely a surfer.

"All we do here is party, shop, and…." I thought for a second. What else did Hawthorne residents do besides party and shop?

"Sounds interesting," Dustin laughed.

I nudged him playfully and continued to refuse the idea that all I'd done my entire life was attend parties and go shopping around the strip.

"A bookstore!" Dustin exclaimed as he grabbed my hand and dragged me inside Barnes & Noble.

"A bookstore?" I repeated with much less enthusiasm. Granted I was a huge supernatural genre reader, the thought of going to a bookstore on a school day made me want to go home and throw a party to make things less quiet and serious. "You have to be the only person I've met who has been this excited to see a Barnes & Noble, Dustin."

He laughed and led me to the Starbucks to the left of the entrance. "No, a bookstore in California usually means a café with food and coffee. I've been craving a frappe all day."

I smiled in relief and followed him into the small section of dimmed lights and round tables piled with books and coffee cups. Fortunately, I didn't know anyone sitting at the tables.

"What would you like to drink?" Dustin asked me. "A nice latte or a mocha frappuccino perhaps- you look like a frappe fan."

"Why do you say that?" I inquired curiously.

He grinned, obviously delighted that I asked. "Frappuccinos are cold and sweet which complements your warm and sweet personality."

"You mean my seemingly warm and sweet personality," I joked, playfully narrowing my eyes at him.

We laughed for a bit before I told him that a mocha frappuccino did sound nice and he walked to the end of the Starbucks line to order.

When he came back, I took a sip of the frappuccino before I noticed that he was smiling at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Why are you talking to me?"

I almost choked on the cold lump of mocha frappe that I was swallowing. "What do you mean?"

"I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not the sexiest guy in school," Dustin said. "Why are you here with me right now? Why are you even talking to me? I mean, a girl like you would probably go for the Abercrombie & Fitch model, not the new kid clothed in Pacific Sunwear shorts."

I racked my brain for a decent answer. "Okay, first of all, I can't believe you used the word 'sexiest.' Secondly, how could you think I'm that shallow?! I'm not into models like all those stereotypical girls who wear Burberry and…. and other stylish clothes, okay? I may have a strong passion for fashion- oh geez; I can't believe I just rhymed. Anyway, that is beside the point. I'm talking to you right now because…. because I…. like you, Dustin!"

Suddenly, as if I'd lost all elegance, my head dropped to the green Starbucks straw that stuck out in front of me and I started sipping its cold contents continuously without stopping to take a breath or allow a gulp to properly slide down my throat.

What have I done?!

I couldn't even look at Dustin. He was probably flattered, but I was definitely terrified. I couldn't even count how many lies I'd said to him in that one moment of hasty response to his inquisitions. I did go for the guys who looked like models, I would never go for the guy in Pacific Sunwear clothes (plus I was wrong about the brand of clothing Dustin wore), I was- to an extent- "that shallow," and I definitely, without a doubt, full-on sure that I wasn't talking to Dustin because I liked him!

"That- well, I didn't expect that," he laughed, obviously quite pleased.

"Neither did I," I mumbled.

"So you…. that is…. erm, do you really like me?" he asked nervously.

I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, but I remembered that if I did I'd be in more of a mess than I was in at that moment not only with Dustin but with my entire grade as well. My friends would shun me, Dustin would shun me, I'd regret everything, end up failing finals due to excessive depression, and, to complete the whole ghastly idea, I wouldn't get accepted to any college.

With that thought, I took a deep breath and looked up to face Dustin. "Yes," I sighed. "I am beginning to like you."

Dustin smiled and blushed slightly. "Then again, we've only known each other for a day, right?"

My eyes lit up.

"It could just be a small, mutual attraction," he continued. "Of course, anything is possible."

I smiled softly. "Yeah, you're right." Quickly, noticing an opportunity in the silence that followed to change the subject I asked, "So do you miss your friends in San Diego?"

"Yeah," Dustin nodded. "However, they are only a few hours away. I could always ride my bike there."

I laughed doubtfully.

"You don't believe me?" he asked. "I did it twice during summer vacation, to San Diego and back."

"Are you really that fit?"

Dustin shrugged and sat back in his seat. "Do I look that fit?" he grinned.

I looked his tall and on-the-thin-side figure over before answering, "No, you don't actually."

He exploded with laughter and I couldn't help but join in. When we calmed down, I finished my frappe and saw that Dustin was already done with his.

"So do you want to see some more of Hawthorne?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied, "but are you sure there's nothing else to see except the strip?"

I thought for a moment then shook my head.

"Don't you ever get bored of spending all your time shopping in the same shops every week?" Dustin asked.

"Well, there are a hundred stores on the strip," I pointed out. "That doesn't include the restaurants, bookstores, and cafés."

"What about carnivals?" he asked, his sea blue eyes twinkling a little and the ends of his lips curling upwards. "Do you like carnivals?"

"Those boring things?" I scoffed dismissively. "My parents took me to one when I was seven. I barfed on the Ferris Wheel, lost my parents about a hundred dollars on those games that award tacky stuffed animals as a prize, got food poisoning from the hot dogs, and, worst of all, I lost my first Burberry shoulder bag all in that one visit. I hate carnivals."

Dustin laughed heartily before I threw the paper straw wrapper that I had rolled into a ball at his face.

"It's not funny," I insisted, although a small smile was slowly forming on my face. Thinking back, it had been an amusing first visit to such a favorite event among so many American families. "Why did you ask anyway?"

He pointed to a colorful flyer on the wall behind me. "There's a carnival here and tonight is its last night at Hawthorne."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm not going to a carnival."

"Why not?" he urged. "You've only gone once and that was like ten years ago; besides, you know what they say."

"No, Dustin," I said, "I don't know what they say."

"First impressions suck," he smiled. "Why don't you give it another try? I'm positive you'll have a better time this go-around."

I shook my head stubbornly. "No. I'm not going to a stupid carnival. It's a waste of time, Dustin, trust me."

"I've gone to a carnival every year since I was a baby, Karmin," he said. "I've always managed to have fun during every one of them."

I sighed deeply before standing up. "You owe me, Dustin."

He stood up excitedly, grabbed my hand, and somehow managed to lead me out of Barnes & Noble and back to the parking lot with careful tenderness. The only reason I was going to the stupid carnival with him was that I knew no one from Hawthorne High would be there. It was an unwritten declaration that carnivals were for elementary school children- not high school teenagers. Yet here I was, defying that declaration with the new kid who had stringy blonde hair, a personal surfer theme about him, and who wore Pacific Sunwear clothes. Ew.

A/N: Okay, I know Karmin probably sounds really shallow right now, but let me be the one to tell you that she is shallow. However, characters develop into more mature and refined roles, correct? I really hope so. No, seriously, I have a lot of changing and maturing in store for Karmin, which means a lot of obstacles and annoying antagonists who try to…. well, I'll allow you to figure that out yourself. Hint: read the title. In addition, I also have a lot more to reveal about Dustin as to why he is the guy every girl deserves. Whoops. You didn't realize that already? Sorry. XD

Anyway, I'd love to know what you think!

Thanks to:

Katsunagi Miroi: Wow, thanks! I'm really glad you find this story refreshing and I'm really relieved that you didn't NOTICE any grammar/spelling mistakes. Phew! I probably had many errors in this chapter though. 99

popstar2be: Thanks! Out of curiosity, which designer is your favorite? My fave is a tie between Burberry (don't know if 'Burberry' is a designer though) and Christian Dior. Sorry, you probably didn't care :P. Do people at your school wear BIG designer brands like the ones I mentioned in this fic?!

FeigningInnocence777: Thanks! I'm glad you find this interesting so far and I'm really glad that I've established a plot. You see, sometimes I just write without really knowing where the story is going. I'm calmed that you found a noticeable plot and that I actually have a pretty sturdy plot in mind. By the way, I was delighted to see a 777 in your pen name rather than…. well, the other number.

Patty the Pretty: Wow, thanks! I'm glad to have such an enthusiastic reviewer. I hope I've updated soon enough!

Secretive: Wow, thanks! lol Surfers always seemed like Keanu Reeves before he started acting like an adult? hehe Yes, the tradition is a terrible thing. Stupid rich snobs…. whom I've created. o.o Anyway, I do hope you keep an eye out for this story!

Thanks to all of you! I have to go to bed since it's well past one in the morning and I have to go to L.A. tomorrow. (Yes, I do live in California home of the longhaired surfers and fashion victims hehe). Please tell me what you think!