Chapter One

It was a Monday afternoon and the first day of school, now making her officially a junior. It wasn't really all that special to her though. School hadn't seemed to matter for the last two years; ever since her mother had died. Since then, she'd lost interest in pretty much everything. All things that she did before, she couldn't do at all. Her brother often told her that her personality had changed. But she believed that that wasn't the case. It was just that whoever she had been when her mother was alive had died when she did.

It wasn't her fault. It's not like she could help it happen this way.

But her interests changed and sometimes she wondered if it was for the better. But then she'd realize how numb and hurt she'd become and realized that it was real, and she was in a state she never dreamed she'd possibly be.

So here she was, walking the five blocks to school, on a rainy afternoon in the beginning of September. Not a great start to the beginning of them month. She knew that she'd get a cold if she didn't get to the school quickly. Not that her father would care though. He had changed after her mother died. In fact, her whole family had. So, as amazing as it seemed, she would rather be at school than home. It was like living in a tornado when at home. The bruises didn't help her much either. They came on a regular basis. Her father became a drunk that night after the funeral and it hadn't stopped since. Along with the drinking he became physically violent. So in truth, she would rather be at school all day then go home.

Suddenly, as she saw the school nearing, she tripped on a crack in the sidewalk; making her fall and cutting up her knee, as well as ripping her pant leg. Groaning, she sat up and examined her leg, noticing the blood barely seeping out.

"Crap," she muttered then was suddenly startled by a voice above her,

"Are you alright?"

Looking up, she noticed a boy, probably about a year older than her, staring at her. Feeling uncomfortable, she finally answered,

"Uh… yeah. I'm… I'm fine." Samantha got up swiftly, pulling dark blonde hair behind her left ear. Picking up her button-covered backpack, she began to walk the rest of the way to school, hoping that the guy would leave her alone. But he followed her.

"You sure? It looks kinda bad,"

"Yes, I'm sure." She smiled softly towards the guy. He really was nice, and truthfully her knee did sting quite a bit. But she couldn't tell him that. After all, she just barely met him. He could be some kind of psycho or rapist. But he didn't let up. He walked next to her until they reached inside the building.

"Well, from here I go to math," he stated,

"I go to English. See ya," Samantha waved, turning to go up the stairs of the bland, blue and white school.

"Wait!" he called, "I don't know your name! Mine's Natsume, and you?"

Glancing around, Samantha couldn't find a way out and so she answered,

"Samantha," then she began to practically run up the stairs and heard him shout

"See you later!" and then he was out of her sight and she was fully at the top, walking towards the classroom filled with quotes and verbs and Shakespearian pictures.

"Wow, that was close," she muttered, opening her notebook. Samantha was a writer, and she always wrote short stories, finding them more appealing then larger ones. Not that she wasn't opposed to reading big books, she was just too impatient to write one.

Soon enough, her first class was over with and she was heading down the stairs to science. Hallelujah! She loved science; it was definitely her favorite subject. Something about it just fascinated her. Especially when it came to examining animals and their habitats. She just got giggles whenever she thought about that.

And that's what happened. She walked into her science class, giggling with excitement when she heard someone ask her,

"What's so funny?" upon more inspection, as she looked to her left she saw that it was Natsume. A groan escaped her lips. How much more could she take seeing this guy? She didn't have much friends and she didn't plan on letting him in either.

"Nothing," she answered with a bit of scorn. He just grinned at her, showing off the dimple on top of his left cheek.

"Sure, and I aced the SAT's." he laughed at his silly joke and all Samantha could do was roll her eyes at his gesture. Mentally counting the available seats, she took the seat furthest away from Natsume as possible and sat down. Luckily for her, it was right next to the window, giving her plenty of space to breathe. Less than a minute later, the teacher walked into the classroom dressed in black dress pants, and a blue button down shirt. Clearing his voice he tapped a large ruler on his desk, catching everyone's attention immediately.

"Attention class. I am your teacher, Mister Cameron. Class rules are up against the wall next to the door, and I expect every single person in this class to follow them. There is to be no food allowed, nor drinks unless it is water. You are to stay quiet unless working in a lab with your partner. Which then it'd require you to interact with each other.

First off, each of you will be partnered with the person you're sitting next too. They will be your partner for the rest of the year and no, changes will not be made under any circumstances. Do you understand?"

His gaze glanced over the entire class and Samantha couldn't help but laugh as she saw a few girls shudder. They were definitely your classic prep's. Even their words were the cliché ditzy, cheerleader style.

"Good. Now—" interruption, "Yes…?" he paused, searching for a name,

"Grayhill, sir."

"Yes, mister Grayhill?"

"Um, sir? I can't sit up in the front. I need somewhere in the back to sit because of the fumes of the markers make me sick. I have a really good sense of smell. But this was the only seat left…" he trailed off, sinking a little into his seat. Mr. Cameron scanned the classroom and unluckily for me, his eyes landed on where I was sitting.

Samantha had had Mr. Cameron the year before and he knew me. He also knew my ability to space off and so she shouldn't have surprised when he spoke to her,

"Miss Stephens, please switch seats with Mister Grayhill. It seems that he can't be too close to marker fumes. Thank you," then he proceeded to explain the rest of the rules to the class while the Grayhill kid and Samantha exchanged seats.

What she hadn't noticed before was that the seat that occupied the one next to Grayhill's was Natsumes'. Now Samantha wasn't able to avoid him any longer. With a groan (he seemed to make her groan a lot) she sat next to him. Her plan of avoiding him was officially deemed a no.

Sitting hastily into her seat, she didn't glance once at Natsume, all the while listening to Mr. Cameron droning on about getting signatures from their parents; the typical first day disclosure document assignments.

This was one of the assignments Samantha loathed the most. Samantha's father hated to be bothered, especially by her, and this never helped. She had learned how to forge his name but not always did she get away with it. The day her father learned she hadn't asked for his permission to go on a fieldtrip the last year, she found herself being beaten to unconsciousness for three days. When she woke up, she had fading bruises and a sore jaw. Since then, she had been more careful when it came to teacher's calling home about certain things.

But no matter how much she tried to ignore the boy (rather good looking boy she had to admit) sitting next to her, all the more she found him distracting. It seemed that he didn't care that she was ignoring him; and for some reason that bothered her. She wanted him to be annoyed that she wasn't talking to him; to feel something towards her indifferent attitude.

But all he did was draw. That's right, draw. And as Samantha sneaked a few glances at the picture, she found that he was actually quite amazing. His style was so unique, but yet so beautiful in its own way.

Suddenly, while she was peaking, Natsume turned his head towards her, grinning wickedly.

"You like it?" his eye twinkled, and Samantha quickly looked away, feeling a blush coming.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Samantha muttered, quickly writing what the teacher had written on the board. All he did was grin and continue what he had been doing before.

Something fluttered in her stomach. It was so unfamiliar that she wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it didn't give her a good feeling. So as soon as the class ended, Samantha dashed out of the white classroom, running quickly to her next class, barely missing tripping over somebody. Dodging that trip caused her to twirl and then she slammed into the side of the wall. Hardly noticing that it was lunch time and not her next class, she could feel tears begin to sting her eyes, only feeling the pain of a recent bruise on the side of her right arm.

But knowing she was in school and that kids were all around her, Samantha refrained from letting tears fall. Being humiliated was not on her list of things to do for the day and she was going to keep it that way. And before she knew it, Natsume was by her, picking up her old brown backpack that had fallen off her shoulder's when she hit the wall.

"You seem to be destined for disaster, don't you?"

Glaring at Natsume his little joke, Samantha grabbed her backpack from his hands.

"No. You've just cursed me."

He grinned,
"I didn't know I was capable of cursing. What an awesome power!"

"Oh good grief! How can you speak like that?" Samantha was pleased to find that that put a slight frown on his Natsume's face.

"What's wrong with being funny?"

"That was funny?"

His brow furrowed,

"Well, yes. Boy you need to loosen up. You'll have more fun if you do, I promise!" Natsume gave her two thumbs up, smiling, hoping to get her to agree.

All Samantha did was stared at him, her eyes in slits. Then she finally spoke after a few seconds,

"And how, exactly, are you able to promise something like that?"

"Because that's how I am. I've got a stressful life but I don't let it keep me from having fun."

"Yes, but not everybody is like you. Not everybody can stay uplifted and happy."

"You can if you choose too,"

Samantha scoffed,

"Yeah right; I highly doubt that,"

"Well… have you ever tried it before?"

"For your information, yes I have. And it didn't work for me. And if it didn't work for me then, it won't work for me now,"

"Sure it will. Just keep on trying."

"I don't think I have the energy to keep on trying. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need lunch." Samantha quickly turned around, fast pacing her way to the main lunch line which was serving chicken patty dinner for the day, feeling relieved that Natsume didn't follow her.

Luckily for her, Samantha noticed that the only class she had with Natsume was her science class. But at the same time she was disappointed. He was to be her science partner when they had labs and projects to do, for the entire year. They weren't allowed to switch; no matter what. Unless someone died or left the class, there were no exceptions.

Sighing, she quickly sat at a table by herself, soon noticing that she had absolutely no friends. It didn't trouble her too much. Friends were too much effort. They wanted to know the details of your life and she wasn't willing to give them. No matter whom the person was. Her life was far too complicated to endure too much more than what she already did. Though there were times she could admit that she felt so lonely. So hurt and unloved; even worthless.

Wiping a tear from her eye before it could fall; she scarfed the rest of her meal and finished the rest of her classes for the day.

The walk home was brutal. Her legs felt so tired, and her arm hurt like the dickens. Not to mention her mind was in a whirl surrounding a certain someone. Why oh why couldn't she have stayed invisible? Curse her wretched feet that always make her trip.

Samantha sighed again for the billionth time that day and slowly opened the chestnut wooden door. Cringing as she could smell the stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol.

The house was a mess. That was the first thing she noticed when she walked in. She also noticed that her brother wasn't home and her father was passed out cold on the ugly gray couch; the television left on a strange wrestling channel. And the instant she saw her father passed out, a cold fear rippled through her body. The house was a mess! It was as if she had only noticed for the first time. Her father hated the house a mess, and she knew that if she didn't clean it up to perfection, there would be pain in her future.

Frantically, Samantha worked as quickly as possible. She didn't want her father to wake up with her still in the same room as him. But sadly she wasn't quick enough. Half an hour and an almost clean living room later, Samantha's father stirred; grunting himself to awareness.

Groggily, he sat up, holding his head in his hands a groan escaping his mouth. Samantha's nose wrinkled as she could almost smell the stench coming from his breath. She felt sickened to know that it was now floating in the air she was breathing and she about rushed out of the dull room. But his becoming alert of life stilled her to no movement.

Her theory was — if she didn't move and didn't make a sound, her father wouldn't notice her in the room. But that theory was quickly thwarted. He spotted her in the corner by the television soon after he became awake. For a second, she thought she saw regret in his eyes but it must have been her imagination, for anger was clearly written across his features.

"Why. Is my living room. A mess." It sounded more like a statement but Samantha knew better.

"It… it's not. I was just about finished cleaning it."

"You are such a (swear word) liar! How dare you tell me that this living room is clean?" He quickly stood up off the ugly couch, and strode over towards her. Silence rang in the air as a slap cut through its thin walls. Samantha sank to the ground in a heap, her hand touching the sting on her cheek where her own father had hit her.

That wasn't such a shock anymore, but she couldn't help feel hurt and hopeless as her father just smirked down at her from his position above.

"Maybe you'll learn your lesson for next time, huh?" he laughed once, then turned and left the living room and out the front door, giving it a good slam, shaking the picture of their family from years ago that hung right next to it.

Now Samantha allowed herself to cry. Now she allowed herself to feel sorrow and pity for her life. She remembered earlier about what Natsume had said about choosing to be happy and gave a sarcastic laugh. Her? Find happiness about a situation like this? How could he even think that people like her could even feel happiness when no one loved her; not even her own brother. Now, she knew that he had it in his heart somewhere; but he was so mixed up himself that he never showed his affections towards his sister. He did try to defend and help her out in the beginning but then he gave up. She figured he just didn't want to deal with dad and she didn't blame him.

He was hardly home anyhow and she never came to depend on him. There were times, though, when she wished he'd show an ounce of care for her. Especially when she knew he had it in him.

Shaking her head out of her depressive thoughts, Samantha wiped her eyes, and pulled herself up off the ground. Taking one last glance at the living room and seeing that it was mostly clean, she decided to take a walk to the park. She didn't have the energy to finish cleaning and knew that her father would be asleep or passed out when she got home.

Feeling pleased with this decision, she grabbed her bad with a book and book light in it, and pulled on her coat (for it was an especially cold night). She closed the door softly, made sure her coat was nice and tight, then descended the cold stone stairs.

Taking a left at the nearest street, she walked for sometime and made another left then the street after that, she took a right and gradually made her way towards the few swings that were there.

The swing squeaked as Samantha softly pushed herself back and forth, hardly going any height worth mentioning for the record books. Thoughts swam in her head, wondering again why she was alive. Why her father had changed so drastically. It made no sense. Sure, her father was sad, but was that supposed to give him the right to get drunk all the time and beat her to a pulp?

Suddenly losing the strength to keep moving, Samantha stopped completely. Just sitting and staring at the dirt underneath her feet. She never noticed footprints behind her; she was so focused in her thoughts.

"Boy, you seem to be everywhere I go."

Fear for a second, and then shock; Samantha let out a little gasp and fell off the ground from turning too quickly to get a good look at the spy.

Sputtering, she wiped her legs off, and glared up at Natsume from her sitting position on the ground.

"What do you want, Natsume?"

"Nothing at all. I was just in the neighborhood, taking a walk."

Samantha raised an eyebrow,

"Why in the world would you want to take a walk in this weather?"

"Why in the world would you want to swing on the swings in this weather?" he countered. But he had a good point. She knew the answer to his question too, but it wasn't one she would ever tell him though.

Suddenly, before anything else was said, Samantha noticed a change on Natsume's face,

"What's wrong, Natsume?"

"What happened to your cheek?"

Samantha stilled. What was she supposed to say to that?

"Uh… nothing really. I fell down the last three steps and my cheek hit the doorknob of our closet that's in front of our stairs. Why?"

"That's not a doorknob bruise. They can't give a bruise like that."

"How do you know? Have you ever gotten a bruise by hitting a doorknob?"

"Actually, yes I have. And I know for a fact that they are round. Not this squareish shape that yours seem to have taken on."

"Well, everybody's turns out different. They won't all be the same."

"No, that's true. They might not all be the same, but I know that they don't look like squares. What really happened?" His pressing the issue began to make Samantha's blood boil,

"It's none of your business. Get a life and leave mine alone." She knew she was rude, but she couldn't help it. He was prying into a part of her life that was so private to her. Couldn't he get that concept? Did she have to spell it out for him?

It seemed that Natsume had noticed the change in her demeanor, for he changed the subject as quickly as he had brought it up, but she noticed that he never lost that slight frown to the edges of his lips as he spoke to her.

"Well, seeing as how I was just about to head back home, and you're here all alone; would you like to come to my house? My mom would love to meet you."

"Uh, we've only just met today and you're asking me over to your house?"

"Yes,"

Samantha gave him a strange look,
"What's wrong with you?"

He gave one back,

"What are you talking about?"

"How can you just invite a strange into your house?"

"Well, you're not a stranger, are you?"

"Of course I am!"

"We've already met haven't we?" he pressed the issue,

"Well… yes, but—"

"Then that means that we know each other and you are perfectly able to enter into my house. My mother was baking cookies when I left, wanna go over and enjoy some while they are still warm?"

Samantha had a hard time deciding with that. Cookies were her weakness. She loved cookies. Especially chocolate, chocolate chip. That was her favorite. And at the mention of cookies, her mouth watered so she decided she couldn't refuse.

"Fine, let's go have a cookie. But I can't stay for long."

Natsume grinned,

"That's perfectly A-Okay with me. My mom will be thrilled to meet you as well!"

"Why?"

"Because I've made a new friend,"

Finding that comment strange, Samantha just had to inquire about it,

"Why is that so significant?"

"Well, because I only just moved here a week ago. You're my first friend. Don't you feel lucky!"

"Yeah. Just peachy," Samantha grumbled, but on the inside, she couldn't help but feel giddy. He had only just moved here and yet he picked her to become his friend. And on the mention of moving, that raised another question,

"So, you live around here then, right?"

Natsume nodded,

"Yup! Just go down this street a little ways and my house is the first one on the right; with the 'Beware of Dog' sign posted on the front. Not that Ruthie would ever hurt a fly, but people don't need to know that," he winked at her as he started walking towards the direction of his home. When he noticed that she had not moved he yelled,

"You comin'?"

And upon a quick decision, Samantha decided she'd rather be at his house then go home to her drunken father (if he was even home by then) and ran swiftly after him, walking next to him in silence as they trudged along (or rather as she trudged, he seemed more like he had an inflated ego or something).