"It all traces back to swinging on the playgrounds."

I sat on the swing set, my dark blonde hair blowing all around my face. The swing was only barely moving though; today was just a windy and cold day. Today was the day my best, best, BEST friend was moving across the entire state and throwing a 'going away' party.

So why am I sitting here?

Because he didn't want me to come.

He didn't invite me.

He didn't even tell me.

So how did I know?

-A few days ago.

Yes. No work today, I thought gleefully, walking out of my apartment building. Today was Saturday, and I had no work. Honestly, I'm fifteen; I don't need all this crap about my job as an authoress. Yes, I am a fifteen-year-old author. I write children books, which aren't all that hard. Thirty-two pages and pictures and I'm done. At my high school, I write for the newspaper.

What can I say? I love writing.

Ah, but sadly, no one can believe me until I tell them my name.

As much as I have tried, I can't get my dark blonde/light brown (Luke likes to call it various food names. i.e. chestnut, chocolate, etc. etc.) to stay in a decent style, so usually I just have my bangs pulled back. Though I still have hair falling in my face, so I find that saying to be stupid. My dark blue (again, Luke likes to call them black and food names too) eyes are never hidden by glasses, or even with contacts. My vision is 20/20 I must say.

And apparently, based on what, you guessed it, Luke says, I don't have 'the body of an authoress'. Whatever the hell that means.

Anyways, the look of shock, and I mean SHOCK, in everyone's eyes when I tell them my name gets a liiiiitle old. Though it was amusing to see some people spill stuff on themselves.

Call me a sadist.

And apparently, the name Carly Mitchell doesn't suit me. Well, that's my parents' fault.

My ring tone interrupted my thoughts and mental rambles. Thunder, the acoustic version, played and I knew exactly who it was. Sticking my hand down my jeans pocket, I pulled out my silver, I call it black, Razr.

Flipping it open with a single hand, I answered, "What's up, Mr. Luke Abrahms?"

"Nothin' much. I got bored," was his reply.

"And you decided to call me?" I said with mock-surprise. "Well, I must say that I am absolutely touched!"

"Ha ha. Very funny Carly."

"I like to think so." I grinned as I walked on the sidewalks, a light snow coming down again. It was only November, but we were getting little bits of snow here and there. "Guess what?" I said into the receiver.


"IT'S DANDRUFF DAY!" I shouted. Passing people gave me strange looks. I didn't worry about Luke though; he knows that when I say 'Guess what?' it means pull the phone back at arms length.

"Having fun?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yep. People are staring." I grinned brightly at a passing elderly couple. The woman gestured to her husband and then to me with a knowing look. The two shared a look of their own as they walked off.

"Luuuuuukkkeeeee," I whined into the phone.

"Talkin' to your boyfriend, eh?"

"And apparently, it's you."

I could almost see him shrug on the other line. "It's bound to happen. All the best clichés prove it," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh yes. We have to rely on clichés to make sure our lives are going swell," I said sarcastically into the phone.

"Swell? Who the hell uses that word?" he asked.

"Why, me of course!" I said. "I'm hurt that you forgot," I said with a pout, even though he couldn't see me. I bet he could see all this in his mind. He's my best bud of a solid five years, ever since we were little ten-year-olds (he was eleven) running around in the playground. One day, he tripped me and told everyone that I fell. Then he realized that I wasn't the person he was looking for, who, may I add, was a frickin' guy. But we became buds after that.

"Hey, did you ever get back at that guy?" I asked, passing a playground with little kids running around in it.

"Yeah. Poured maple syrup in his underwear," he said cheerfully. I chuckled.

"Oh yes, that's mature," I said simply.


"You are just an amazing person for little kids to follow," I replied. A drop of snow landed on my nose.

"Mmhm. I'm sure. Oh, crap. I have to go. We're planning a party," Luke said. I could hear some shuffling in the background.

"Okay. Later, Luke."

"G'bye Carly."

-Two days.

While I was slaving away over another article, my roommate, Sarah, came crashing into our room. She was listening to her iPod. It was like a game to me: 'Guess Which Song Sarah Westly Is Listening To'.

"'Party Like A Rock star?'" I asked loudly. She turned to me and nodded before tripping over the couch. She crashed onto the floor and immediately thrust a thumbs up in the air and shouting, "I'm okay!" I laughed. I was used to Sarah. She was, after all, my roommate in the apartment. My parents were into traveling a lot, but I wasn't, so we came up with this agreement.

She got up, dusted herself off, grinned at me, and walked into her room. She probably forgot something. Proving me right, she reemerged a few minutes later with her purse.

"Where is it tonight?" I asked, frowning at the computer screen.

"Some dude's apartment," she replied, looking in her purse. Yes, Sarah was a party-holic. "I should be back around mid or one, so don't worry. If I get hurt, all my party buds know to call you," she told me, grinning as she found her room keys and sticking them in a different pocket.

"All right then. Later," I replied as she waved to me before closing the door. I turned back to my computer and sighed. I wasn't worried about Sarah; I never was. She had a black belt in three different martial arts, so she was fine, especially for a sixteen-year-old. Yes, my birthday is late, so most of the people in my grade are older than me.

"Evil thing," I muttered at the screen before getting up. I had been sitting for way too long. I then noticed my neglected phone and frowned. Luke hadn't called in two days. He told me he's planning a party, but I doubted that it would take that long. I had tried calling him numerous times; each time I got his voice mail.

I was starting to worry...

-A few hours.

"I'm going out, Sarah. Later," I called, walking out of our apartment. She just nodded in my direction, planning out an outfit for another party.

My mind drifted back to Luke. We'd been best friends for so long; he'd tell me if something was bugging him, right?

Wrong, a little voice at the back of my head replied.

"No, no, no. I will not think like this," I scolded myself quietly, sticking my hands into my hoodie pocket. I wasn't a complete tomboy, but I know well enough not to wear a skirt on a snowy day. Hoodie and dark jeans are good for me. Oh and I hate skinny jeans, but that's beside the point.

I'll go visit Luke. Just to check on him, I told myself, going to his parents' home. His parents were rich, so even if they traveled a lot, Luke could stay home with the maids and butlers and all those people. Unlike me. I walked up to the large house.

"Why do I even want a car?" I wondered aloud. I almost always walked; even though I already had my permit. Oh well. I'll drive next year or something.

As I wondered why I never spent any thought on a car, I hit something papery and brightly colored.

I shouted indistinct things before walking back and examining the now fallen banner.

"'Good-bye and good luck... Abrahms Family'?" I read out loud, looking up at the last few words. I was a few yards away from the mansion, but I could see the signs of a party being thrown. There was loud music, lots of cars parked outside, so on. I stared at a window, wondering what was happening.

No... If he was leaving, he'd tell me, I thought, my eyes widening when I saw Luke's tall form appear in the window, laughing with some of his other friends. His dark green eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed at a joke someone told. His brown hair kept falling in his eyes, but he ignored it.

I just watched from outside the window.

Then he straightened up and yelled something over the music.

"Everyone! Everyone!" he called as the music was shut off. "I'd like to say thanks for coming to my going-away party." My heart dropped. "It's going to be hard, transferring in the middle of junior year in high school, but if my dad and mom can make it, so can I," he said, grinning. "Every single one of you are the best friends a guy could have, and nobody else." My heart dropped more. "So, thanks, and keep in touch when I'm gone!" The music began again.

Best... friends... huh? I thought, a sad smile sliding on my face. I stared at the ground before running off. Running, running, running.

I ran through groups, through yards, through sidewalks until I found my destination. The park. I walked over to the swings and sat down, letting my feet push me slightly. I felt something wet and warm against my cheek.



And that's what happened.

He never even saw me, standing outside his house, watching him from the window.

And that's good. He doesn't know I know.

He doesn't know that I cried over him.

And that is how it will be, even a million years from this moment.

That is how it should be.

I guess he didn't want to be friends anymore and thought this was the cleanest way to do it.

I sighed dejectedly as my feet continued to drag against the slightly snow-covered mulch. I've been sitting on this swing for an hour or two probably.

I stopped crying.

Tears didn't matter anymore.

No more tears would I shed for him.

-Thirty minutes.


I looked up. There stood Luke, the reason that I was sitting on a swing and crying.

"Hey," I whispered back, looking at the ground. I crossed my legs and lightly grasped the metal chains that were holding up the swing.

"Are you okay?"

No shit, Sherlock. I'm completely fine; it's just the time for me to cry on a fucking swing, I thought bitterly. Would I say that? Nope. Instead I just murmured a 'Sure,' that didn't even convince me.

No one said anything, so I was hoping that he would just leave.

"Is there a problem?"

Dammit. "Nope."

Before I realized it, Luke had kneeled down and propped a finger under my chin so my eyes locked with his dark green ones. His brown bangs fell into his eyes, but he kept them fixed on me.

"Did I do something?" he whispered. I could feel his breath on my lips. I jerked my head out of his grasp.

"No," I replied, looking away and closing my eyes. It was hard to hold in the tears that desperately wanted to spill.

He sighed. "Look, I thought that we were close enough so that we'd tell each other-"

Oh. My. God. I couldn't help it; tears were hard enough, temper was even harder to hold back.

So I let it loose.

Shooting out of the slightly moving swing, I shouted to Luke, "Oh, don't give me that crap!" I opened my mouth to say more, but I realized that it would be pointless. So I finished with, "You didn't even tell me your family was moving."

And I walked away.

-Next day.

And the day after we last spoke, he moved away.

And I haven't spoken to him in three years.

Now, I am an author for a popular newspaper, Need To Know. Sarah and I share a dorm at our college. We were absolutely ecstatic when we got into the same college. She's my photographer for the articles I write. It was a talent she discovered in senior year of high school. She still parties a lot, but not as much as she did when she was a sixteen-year-old. Now, she goes to nineteen-year-old parties.

Or so she says. But I won't butt into her business since she didn't butt into mine.

Apparently, she was at Luke's going away party. She sent me a worried look when I entered the room after she did, but she knew me well enough to not ask me.

And can you believe it? During our last year in high school, when Sarah discovered her talent, I discovered something too.

I love Luke.

Yep. I had fallen in love with that bastard, just like every fucking cliché says that I would.

And there hasn't been a day when he didn't invade my thoughts, as cheesy as that phrase sounds. So, I haven't had a boyfriend in three years thanks to that ass.

But it doesn't matter to me. Right now, all I have to worry about is that article on an athlete/famous model dude or something. My boss, who's name is Erik, didn't give me the guy's name. Even after I pestered him and begged him, my old friend wouldn't tell me. I mean, Erik and I had been buds since Sarah introduced him to me, hoping I would date him.

Nope. Purely platonic is our relationship.

Anyways, the little booger didn't give me his name. Only his occupation ('Golden Boy': Model and athlete at everything single frickin' sport), his current home (California, which was quite a long airplane ride from my home in Maryland), and some unrelated info (that Sarah was going to fly to Cali a few days after me for the pictures).

I walked out of cab I was in, making sure to pay the driver, and into a building with a very large pool on the bottom floor. When I had called his 'agency', they told me he should be at the pool, which I was currently at. I quickly smiled politely at the elderly lady who sat in a chair before walking down the stairs to the pool. I had worn flats, so there wasn't any loud, obnoxious noise that you would usually get from heels.

Nearing the entrance door (apart from the men's and women's bathrooms) I could already smell the chlorine. A smile slid on my face before I could help it; Luke always loved to swim.

No, no. Not him. You have to focus on this other guy, I thought, shaking my head and opening the door.

The bright blue waters sparkled as I heard a splashing noise. There must be the man of the hour now. Hope he's not an ass, I thought, looking around the pool. No one else was there, so hopefully, this was the subject. Wow. That sounds weird.

I straightened out my white blouse (sleeves rolled up and top button open) and dark blue pleated skirt. On my feet were gray-flower flats. Hey, it was hot in California.

I walked over to a beach chair and sat down; crossing my legs (making sure my skirt didn't show any unnecessary leg) and watching the man swim quick laps. He swims fast, I thought absent-mindedly, watching his tan arms and legs work. After a couple more minutes, he stopped on the other end of the pool and planted his hands onto the edge, heaving himself out. By then, I had taken out my new edited manuscript for another children's book I was writing. My editor told me to go over this and then call her when I finished reading it.

I occupied myself with that.

About half-way through, a smooth voice interrupted my focus. I frowned slightly from behind the book. Please don't be an ass. Please don't be an ass, I silently begged. Lowering the cover, I flashed a smile at the slightly wet man in front of me.


That was the only thing going through my head when I met the dark green eyes of Mr. Luke Abrahms.

Maybe... he doesn't recognize you...

I hope that's true.

I quickly pulled out a tape recorder, my pen, and my notepad. "Do you mind if I tape this?" I asked, silently cheering that my voice sounded normal.

"Not at all," he replied. His voice was deeper and his hair was a little longer. I thought of something that wouldn't let him think I was who I am.

Wow, that sounded stupid.

"What's your name?" I asked, remembering that Erik (who was now a dead man) didn't give me his name.

He stared at me.

"Yes, an absolutely stupid question to ask, but my boss wouldn't give me your name. So I have to know," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"Luke Abrahms," he said, holding out his hand. I took it and gave it a brief shake, ignoring my body's pleas to hold onto it longer. I could see that he was going to ask me my name, so I began the interview.

"So, your favorite out of everything thing you do is swimming?" I asked. He nodded with a boyish grin.

"I've been swimming ever since I was a little kid. Back home in Maryland, I used to swim whenever I could." He chuckled. "My family used to call me a fish."

I smiled. Not at his words, but at the memory. I'm the one who started it. Hmm. Does he remember me?

"How did that get started? The fish thing, I mean," I asked. He stayed silent for a moment, probably trying to remember.

"My best friend started calling me a fish when we would go and swim in the public pool, so I guess it stuck," he shrugged his broad shoulders. I smiled a little more. He remembers.

"How about your other sports?" I asked, changing the subject. I didn't want him to notice me, only to remember. And if I wasn't careful, that could happen easily. I hadn't changed much in the three years we haven't seen each other. "And modeling? How did that start?"

"College," he said, shrugging again. I was writing all this down, but only the details.

"What year are you in?" I asked. "And how old are you?" I already knew both answers, but he didn't need to know that.

"Sophomore and I'm 19. You?" he replied.

"I'm a sophomore too, but I'm only 18. I was born late." I had to think of another diversion quick. "Now, enough about me, tell me about you," I said in a fake-flirty tone that caused Luke to laugh.

"And what about me?" he answered in the same fake tone, fighting a grin. I grinned in return and asked about his modeling.

"That..." He let out a 'Whoo' sound. "I guess some people saw me joking around with my friends and took a picture of me, because the next thing I know, millions of photographers were calling me."

I laughed. His eyes softened a little.

Smooth. Real smooth, Carly.

I continued asking questions.

-Few hours.

"All right," I said, picking up my tape recorder and turning it off. I stuck it in my bag, along with my pen and notepad. "I've got all I need. Thank you very much, Mr. Luke Abrahms." I uncrossed my legs and stood up. He stared at me, which made me a bit uncomfortable, but I walked towards the door anyways.

"Wait," he said as my hand was on the door. I inwardly cursed. "What's your name?"

I couldn't avoid this one. Bad, Carly for not walking faster.

"Carly Mitchell," I whispered before quickly making my exit.

While I exited the pool, I remembered whose fault this was. I took out my old Razr. Strangely enough, it's lasted a long time for me.

I dialed the familiar number and hit the green button, holding my cell up to my ear.


"You are extremely lucky you're my boss and I'm not allowed to kick your ass without you firing me," I hissed into the phone. Erik chuckled lightly on the other side of the line.

"Well, what was I to do?" he asked innocently.

"Give the article to someone else to write," I replied, standing outside the building I was in previously. I looked left and right before deciding to walk in the left direction.

"You're the best I got. You were my only choice in that time."

"Couldn't you have waited?" I said, my hand brushing against my skirt as I walked. I flipped off some guy who was staring at my legs.

"No?" he offered weakly.

"Try again."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Carly. I just thought you'd be over him by now." He sounded like he really did.

"Fine. I forgive you. Just next time, tell me his name," I replied, walking over to a local park and brushing my hands against the back of my skirt, making sure nothing was showing that wasn't supposed to show. I sat down on a swing and crossed my legs. "You had no idea how hard that interview was. I had to ask him his name and then I had to avoid giving my name."

"I'm sorry, again. Did you get everything you needed?"

"Yep. So that's clear. When's Sarah coming up?" I asked, lightly pushing myself on the swing with my foot. Funny; the last time I had spoken to Luke was when I was on the swings.

"She should be up in a couple of days; she's partying it up until then," Erik replied. "She'd better be okay." I smiled as I heard a sigh on the other end. Erik was absolutely infatuated with my party-going friend. The first time they had met, he was carrying papers and dropped all of them. I remember laughing so hard after Sarah told me the story and laughing even harder when she sent me a clueless look.

I chuckled to myself as Erik and I said our good-byes.

Putting my phone back in my bag, I let it drop to the ground. Too bad I was wearing a skirt today; I could've gone up high. So, instead, I sat on the swing, slightly pushing myself, and watching the sunset. My first and pretty much only thought (excluding the ones about you-know-who) was, Wow, it's late.

Sadly, my head was also filled with thoughts of Luke. Even more now that I've just seen him. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.

"Tough day?"

My eyes widened, as I felt my eyelashes brush against my palms as I blinked.



Three times.

"Don't you need to breathe?"

I looked up. Yup, he was standing there in front of me in a pair of shorts and a shirt. "Nope," I said simply before covering my face with my hands. I heard him shift slightly before coming to sit on the swing next to me. He pushed himself high up and then slowed down. I peaked through my fingers.

"Do you hate me?" he asked after he stopped moving and noticed my semi-gaze.

"I-" I began before I remembered something; I loved him. "Why?" I said instead. I don't think he would've liked a love confession right then and there.

"Well, I threw my going-away party without telling you, I moved to California, and I never even called or wrote you," he listed, fully facing me. "So, do you?"

"Nn," I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders and taking my head out of my hands.

"Your single lettered sounds tell me nothing," Luke mused. I sent him a small glare.

"Get over it then." He laughed a little.

"The reason I didn't tell you..." he began. I gave him my full attention. "I thought it would be too painful. For both of us."

"Oh and me watching you from outside your window isn't?" I retorted.

"You weren't supposed to find out that I moved," Luke said quietly. "I thought you'd just forget about me."

"How could I?" He looked at me. "We've been best friends for so long that there hasn't been a fucking day when I'm not thinking of you," I said, standing up. Temper's coming back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling me close to him. I leaned my cheek against his hard chest.

"Sorry won't change it," I whispered back. I felt him tense up. "But it makes it hurt less," I said smiling. He relaxed again.

"Sooo..." Luke trailed off when he broke apart. "Friends?"

"No," I replied. His green eyes widened. I smiled a little. "I don't know about you, but for me, all those clichés proved to be true." He looked a little clueless. I moved close to him and stood on my tip-toes, pressing my lips against his. He immediately reacted and kissed me back, his hands resting on my hips.

"I don't want to be 'just' friends," I whispered when we broke apart. He smiled down at me and kissed my forehead.

"Good. Neither do I," he said, laughing. I laughed with him. "You know what else?" I looked up at him. "You're really short now," he said, amused. I rolled my eyes and kissed him again.

"I love you too."

A/N: Whoooo! It's done! -dances-

lol, anyways, this shall be the first in a series of one-shots. -gringrin-

Ugh. It's 1:30 AM now. -sleepppppyyyyy-

But I'm happy :D

And I don't think the title really fits, but oh well.