This is my first shot at a full length story, so don't expect quick updates. I don't know if all of my chapters will be as long or as short as this one is...just to warn you. I really hope you enjoy this chapter and are interested in this story. Teya is pronounced [Tay-uh] and Ava is pronounced [Ay- vuh] Please enjoy and review. By the way…I apologize in advance for Ava's language.

Chapter 1

Can I call in my lifeline?

"Teya! Get your ass down here!" Ava yelled from downstairs.

I cursed silently as I struggled to pull up my jeans past my resistant hips. I rushed to put on my tennis shoes, forgetting I had flip-flops. I quickly shoved my recently braided hair into a high ponytail, wincing from the soreness the individual braids caused.

"I'm coming!" I shouted while gently placing my studded earrings into my ears.

"Hurry up!"

I jumped from her sudden shout, stabbing my cheek with my earring. "Ow! Gosh, Ava! Are you trying to kill me?!"

"If it'll make you hurry up, then yes!"

I ignored her in favor of washing my ebony face one more time, checking for any bumps, and brushing my teeth.

As the toothpaste foamed in my mouth, I thought about the day ahead of me. It was now sophomore year, and the blessed season of summer was over. School was starting and I was not looking forward to it at all. I hated it with a passion like any sensible young fifteen year old. I'm not saying that anyone who actually loves school isn't sensible, though. I'm just saying that teenagers hating school is seen as the normal thing. What I'm trying to say is that I enjoy summer far more than school. I know I ramble, and I've tried to stop, but I can't. People just learn to accept it, so get used to it.

I spit out the toothpaste after a good minute of brushing, rinsed out my mouth with tap water, and quickly gargled Listerine.

I made sure my hair was suited nicely and I smiled nervously at my reflection in the mirror, constantly worried about how others saw me. I decided I wanted a braid out of the ponytail and hanging in front of my face. I liked little things like that. They were fun to mess with.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand and I rushed from the bathroom to answer it.

"Hello," I answered, flipping open the phone.

"Get your arse down here now." Ava said from the other line.

I laughed at her impatience. "You are so impatient. Did you really have to call me? And when did you turn British?"

"Shut up. Yes, I had to call you. You're taking forever." She sighed on the other line and muttered, "Your mother said that cursing is unladylike and threatened to stab me with a knife if I did it again in her presence."

I laughed again. "So, you decided that saying a British curse word wouldn't count."

"Shut up." She growled.

"And you're the unladylike one? My mom is kind of crazy."

"Yeah. She's a real nutcase. Let's go." She hung up the phone.

"Do you mind not putting on lotion in my car?" Ava asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

I pouted at her. "But my legs, arms, and face are embarrassingly ashy."

"That's not my fault. I'm probably ashy; you don't see me putting on lotion."

"For one, you're driving. Secondly, you can't even tell."

She grinned. "Perks of being pale."

"See? You're smiling. You don't have a problem with me putting on lotion in your car."

Her grin quickly faded. "Don't test me today Teya."

I ignored her and finished rubbing lotion on my legs and arms. I had just begun on my face when Ava hit a bump in the road, and lotion spilled all over the passenger seat, some settling in my eye.

"Ava! Stop the car, it burns!" I cried out.

"It burns?! Do you see what you did to my car?"

"No, I don't see what I did to your car. Do you want to know why? Because my eyes are burning with lotion in them!"

"It serves you right." Ava muttered.

"I'm just going to ignore that and put it off as your being in a bad mood."

"Whatever. Do what you want with that comment." She stopped the car in what, judging by what my good eye could see, was a gas station.

"Go water your eye." She said, picking up a book on philosophy.

"Will you help me get in and out of the store safely?"

"No." She turned a page in her book.

I glared with both eyes, wincing when I closed the one containing lotion too tightly.

"Fine. If I get kidnapped, tortured, raped, maimed, and then killed because I ran into some stranger, it'll be your fault."

"Thanks for the props ahead of time."

"Ugh." I opened her car door, and slammed it closed.

I marched up to the entrance of the gas station/store and looked around for the bathroom. I saw what looked to be the girls' bathroom and rushed towards it. I knocked on the door to see if anyone was in it. Good it was all clear.

I quickly got inside, locked the door behind me, and marched up to the sink to rinse out my eye. I was happy I remembered, from an incident in the past I did not want to repeat, that you rinsed liquids like soda, and lotion out of your eye(s) with cold water. I turned the cold water on, mentally prepared myself for the intense chilliness I was going to feel in my eye, and plunged my hand under the water faucet, cupping a significant amount of tap water.

I splashed the water into my damaged eye, forcing my reflexes wishing to blink the water out of my eye to relax, and repeated the process at least three times. After effectively getting all of the lotion out of my eye, I used my shirt to dry my face. It was just water. It would eventually dry.

I exited the women's restroom and headed towards the exit of the gas station, passing the men's restroom, when I got distracted by some of the snacks the store had back there for some strange reason. I was just about to survey the contents of the second shelf when the door to the men's restroom suddenly opened and slammed me right in the face, effectively knocking me to the ground. I groaned from the pain my back was in from landing on the hard cold floor. I rolled onto my side, hissing in pain, and slowly sat up. As I finally stood up, I felt a headache approaching.

I opened my eyes to look for the perpetrator and was met with a thin shirt with a hard chest filled with emerging abs beneath it staring directly at me. Ok, it was definitely a guy. I took a few steps back to look up into his face and see him angrily flare his nostrils at me while his doe eyes glinted with evident fury. I know admiring someone while they're blatantly glaring at you isn't the smartest thing to do, but I just got hit head on with a bathroom door. I'm obviously not right in the head at the present moment because I'm finding it oddly natural to inspect his face as he sends me death glares.

He had a nice, honest face with handsome features, but not overly handsome features. His cheekbones were relatively pronounced, but not so drastically as to be the first thing one would notice. I liked his hair. I mean I really liked his hair. It was simply long, but short. It didn't reach past the base of his neck, and it was an odd mix of light red and brown, resulting in a light red brownish tone. His nose was cute with a mole on its left side. Personally, I thought moles on guys were to die for. I didn't bother looking at his mouth because I was suddenly caught up in his eyes. They seemed to be a doe brown at first glance, but when I really looked at them I noticed that they appeared hazel in the light and had flecks of blue and green scattered in them. I wasn't only a sucker for moles, but I was a sucker for red heads and guys with amazing eyes. He just had to have all three.

Of course, I liked his eyes the best, and they happened to be the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. I thought of telling him that, and decided against it. But before my mouth had time to catch up with what my brain didn't want to do, I found myself telling him just that.

"Your eyes are really nice." I said, smiling. "I've never seen any quite like them."

I guess I said something moderately good because I saw the intensity in his glare weaken, although he was still obviously unhappy with me. There might be a chance of us getting along if I continue to compliment him like this. Maybe he'll forget about the whole bathroom incident if I don't do anything wrong…

He imperceptibly lifted his chin higher and smirked, saying, "I know."

Ok. I was wrong. We would definitely not be getting along any time soon if he kept that up. I mean, who actually confirms a compliment? Isn't it an unwritten rule somewhere that you have to thank a person for a compliment even if you don't agree with it? I think there is. There might not be one, but I'm going to believe there is one, and he just broke it.

I believed in second chances though, so I decided to pretend like I didn't hear what he said.

"Excuse me?" I asked. "I didn't quite catch that."

He arched a perfectly gorgeous red eyebrow and I had to hold back my sigh. It was very nice to look at, and I think he knew that. Why else would he raise it to the perfect level for accentuating his eyes? I was tempted to pierce an eyebrow ring into it just to touch it, and look into his eyes even more.

I know. I know. I shouldn't be admiring the looks of the guy who knocked me down and seemed to know how flawless he looked. I should be scorning him and ignoring him, without giving him a second glance, but we run into a problem there. Even the personalities of the most disagreeable people can be momentarily ignored to fawn over their wonderful looks.

He saw me inspecting his face once again, and his smirk widened.

"I said," he began, "'I know.' I know my eyes are gorgeous."

I frowned. "I never said they were gorgeous."

"But you were obviously thinking it."

"I was not." I argued.

"Drool doesn't lie." He grinned.

"I was not drooling over you!" I stated, checking my mouth for any moisture.

Ha! He was wrong. There was nothing there.

"But you do admit that they are gorgeous, don't you?" He questioned.

I really didn't want to answer that question. Yes, they were gorgeous. They were beyond gorgeous, but he didn't need to know I thought that.

"They're just…nice." I settled with.

"Nice?" He scoffed. "It's a known fact that they're better than nice."

I sighed. I was not in the mood for this at all.

"Are we really going to argue over whether your eyes are nice or gorgeous?"

"You were the one who started it by denying their right to being more than nice." He countered.

I wasn't the one who started this. He had to put words in my mouth and start this little war.

"I was not the one who started this little debacle. I gave you a compliment, and then you had to go mess it up by refusing to thank me for it! Instead you had to go and agree with me, and give yourself another compliment!" I nearly screamed at him.

A mother looked disapprovingly at me, and shushed me with her finger, motioning to her sleeping child. I smiled sheepishly at her and silently apologized.

"Look." He began. "I don't need to stand here and deal with your childish actions."

He began to walk away from me. "We both know you started this argument by standing outside of the men's restroom, in the way of people trying to exit said restroom, like a dumb idiot looking for guys. So I'm going to be the mature one here and walk away."

"First of all, I'm not an idiot. I'm not even being childish. I'm right. Defending my innocence isn't being childish."

I then noticed the other thing he said. "I wasn't standing outside of the men's restroom looking for guys to ogle at. I had just exited the women's restroom and was merely passing the men's restroom when you decided to slam the door open and smack me in the face. You're the one who attempted to knock me unconscious for some ungodly reason like a sick pervert."

He turned around to face me. A sneer plastered on his face. "I'm not a pervert. And you shouldn't have been standing outside of the door for that long."

"I wasn't standing outside of the door for that long."

"Yes you were."

I shook my head at him. "No, I wasn't. I had only just passed the door."

He glared at me again. "That's all you did? You only passed the door? You didn't stop to look at something?"

He looked pointedly at the snacks I was so enthralled in when he whacked me in the face, and then glared at me again.

I looked at the snacks guiltily. It was their fault I was in this mess. They were too appealing to deny and avoid. No. It wasn't even their fault. It was the stupid idiot who decided it was a great idea to put snacks right outside of the bathrooms. Yeah. A real genius idea.

I twisted my lips in dismay. "I may have looked at the snacks for a nanosecond or two." I muttered.

He grunted. "A nanosecond or two? Try 120 nanoseconds."

"Ok, it was half a minute."

He glared at me. Glaring quickly seemed to become his new favorite pastime.

"40 seconds."

His glare only intensified.

"Fine. You're right. I was looking at the snacks for almost a minute." I regrettably said.

He scoffed. "Of course I am."

There he goes again.

I glared at him, my lips pouting. "You don't have to be so rude about it."

"I'm not being rude." He assured me. "I'm just stating a fact you've just proven. You don't need to be immature and pout about it."

"I am not acting immature!" I shouted, frustrated.

The mother's child from earlier who was sleeping started crying and she glared at me harshly.

She marched past me to another section of the gas station with her crying child and retorted, venomously, "I bet you aren't!"

I opened my mouth to defend myself and incriminate him when he turned away from me again and briskly walked out of the gas station to where it looked like his dad waited by his car. I may have thought he was perfect, and he may have thought he was perfect, but he wasn't so great. He still needed a parent in the car with him to drive. I wasn't impressed.

I scoffed as he cranked up the car, and caught my eyes. I refused to back down as he kept my gaze and slowly backed out of his parking space. He broke my gaze and sped out of the parking lot, but I was sure I saw him look back through his rearview mirror.

After I had swiftly avoided the angry mother, I was able to finally make it back to Ava's car.

I silently got inside and she closed her book and started the car.

"Did you get it all out?" she asked.

"Yeah. I can see now. We can head to school – wait! I think I forgot my phone. I must have left it after you called me, telling me to hurry up." I panicked.

"Don't blame this on me." She commented.

I sorted through my purse, tossing trash everywhere in search of it.

"Hey! Keep your trash in your purse." Ava warned.

I ignored her and went through my backpack, hoping my phone would miraculously appear.

I sighed frustratingly once I realized it wasn't there, and threw my back against the passenger seat.

"I can't find it Ava." I moaned. "Can we go back and get it?"

She sharply turned to face me. "We?"

I slowly nodded.

"No. We're not going anywhere but school. You can last a day without your phone."

"But what if there's an emergency and I need it to call for help?" I begged.

"I'm sick of your stupid hypothetical situations. You don't need it, and I'm not going back for it!"


"No. First you beg me to drive you to school today –"

"My mom was supposed to leave early –"

"But she didn't. Then, you took forever getting ready –"

"I woke up late –"

"Then you decided to spray lotion all over my car –"

"That was an accident! I –"

"And you've just turned my car into a trash can. Now you want me to drive you back home to look for your phone which may or may not be there."

"It is there! It's not in my backpack or purse!"

"I don't care. We don't have time for this, we're already late."

"We have time to argue."

She glared at me. "I'm not driving you back to your house. That's final"

"But my phone –"

"Get out." She told me, turning the car off.

I faltered for a second. "What? Ava? What do you mean?"

"Call your mom and tell her to pick you up so you can get your phone."

"She's at work by now. Besides, she'll tell me the same thing you're telling me."

"Then walk home and get your phone."

I stared at her blankly. "Are you being serious?"

"Yes, Teya. I am."

"I can't possibly walk back home and to school. Do you know how far school is from here and my house driving? Let alone walking?"

"Yes. I do. It takes 15 minutes to get from here to school, and 20 from your house, driving. I can't say how long it'll take you to walk, because you walk slowly."

I frowned at her. "I'll be really late to school."

"Then hitchhike."

I just stared at her blankly.

"I told you not to test me and what do you do? You test me. Walk home. Or hitchhike to get your damn phone. Take your pick. I'm not taking you."

She cranked the car back up. "Go ahead, go. The sooner you leave, the less sweaty you'll be and the less late you'll be to class."

I groaned in dismay. She was right, although I couldn't believe she was actually doing this to me. I opened the passenger door of her car, grabbed my backpack and climbed out of the car.

I held the passenger car door open and begged, "Can't you at least drop me off at my house?"

Ava simply reached over to the passenger door, closed it, saluted me silently, and drove away.

I stood in the parking lot of the gas station for a few minutes, thinking she would come back and say it was all a joke, but she didn't. I sighed and began walking to my house.

As I walked down the road, away from school, dragging my backpack behind me, I got suspicious looks from many adults. I was forced to explain to them that I wasn't skipping several times.

After about twelve minutes of walking I was at my house, and covered in sweat. Yeah, I sweated a lot, especially in this heat. I hated the weather down here.

I put my key in the lock, opened the door, threw my bag on the floor, slammed the door closed, and raced up the stairs to my bedroom to grab my phone. As I was entering my room, I passed a mirror and saw how disgusting I looked. My face was shining with sweat, and I looked like I had just run a mile. This would not do.

I picked out a new set of clothes and took a quick shower, refreshing my appearance. After situating my hair to match how it was perfectly, I made sure my phone was in my purse, grabbed my purse and raced downstairs.

The rumbling of my stomach reminded me that I had forgotten to eat breakfast in my rush to get out the door, so I grabbed a breakfast bar and an apple. I stuffed the bar in my backpack, took a bite out of the apple, put my backpack on my back and left my house, locking the door behind me.

The sun glistened heavily upon my recently washed face, and I sighed. I was definitely not walking to school with the weather being that hot. I had just taken another shower to prevent myself from being sweaty, so I was not going to sweat up a storm again.

As I looked at all of the cars passing before me on the highway, I knew I had only one choice.

I had to hitchhike.