CHAPTER ONE, PART ONE: "Call me, Meggie."

I threw a wish in the well, Don't ask me I'll never tell. I looked at you as it fell, And now you're in my way. I trade my soul for a wish, Pennies and dimes for a kiss. I wasn't looking for this, But now you're in my way.

Your stare was holdin; Ripped jeans, Skin was showing. Hot night, Wind was blowing. Where you think you're going baby?

Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me maybe. It's hard to look right at you baby, But here's my number, So call me maybe. Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me maybe. And all the other boys Try to chase me, But here's my number, So call me maybe.

You took your time with the call, I took no time with the fall, You gave me nothing at all, But still you're in my way. I beg and borrow and steal, At first sight and it's real. I didn't know I would feel it, But it's in my way.

Your stare was holdin; Ripped jeans, Skin was showing. Hot night, Wind was blowing. Where you think you're going baby?

Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me maybe. It's hard to look right at you baby, But here's my number, So call me maybe. Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me maybe. And all the other boys Try to chase me, But here's my number, So call me maybe.

Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, I missed you so bad, I missed you so so bad. Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, And you should know that, I missed you so so bad, bad, bad, bad...

It's hard to look right at you baby, But here's my number, So call me maybe.

Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me maybe. And all the other boys Try to chase me, But here's my number, So call me maybe.

Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, I missed you so bad, I missed you so, so bad. Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, And you should know that.

So call me, maybe.

"Meg!"

I turn my head. My best friend is bounding to me, her large breasts resembling those of Jessica Rabbit. She slides into the seat across from me, a huge smile on her face. I raise my eyebrow, taking a dose of water. "What?"

"You know that house for sale next to me? The big expensive one?"

I nod. Of course I did, she never shut up about how annoying the last people living in it were. "What about it?"

"Well, it was just bought this morning."

"By who?" I take the bait. Her grin widens, if possible. Her boobs threatened to spill out of her shirt as she leans in. "You know that family that I talked about who lives next to my cousins?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"They bought the house. Good lord, they have a young man there that mm, I really want to have a rendezvous or two with. Mmhm." Her eyes are glazed over, and I swear the saliva building in her mouth is about to overflow to her chin. I roll my eyes, picking up a piece of cantaloupe. "Is he our age? Or younger?" She scoffs at me. "Megara, I'm shocked. Do you really think I would call someone our age a man? No. This hunk is twenty-seven, and he's the eldest in the house. The parents are never home so he takes the role of parental watch. I'm already dreaming of him." Her sigh is long and she stares at something beyond me. I shake my head. "You're a minor, Em. I doubt he'll be doing anything with you."

"Meg, it's not illegal if I want it!"

I roll my eyes yet again - a constant reaction to Emmalee - and begin to pack up my empty lunch containers. Unlike the majority of the student population, my mom packs a lunch for me everyday so I don't have to eat cafeteria food. She says it's full of horrible bacteria and bad ingredients that will make me bloat. She's kind of a nut about things like that.

"The point still stands, Em. Even if the minor wants it, it's still illegal."

"Whatever," she flips her hair over her shoulder. "It'll happen somehow."

With a shake of my head I stand up, collecting my bags. "Well, good luck with that." She follows me as I head to my locker. "Some of them will be coming to our school. I hear there's a daughter close to our age - maybe you'll make friends with her."

"Doubtful," I mutter and pull the books I need for my last two classes out of my locker. I put my lunch bag in and turn to Emma. "Have you finished the writing assignment in English?" She shakes her head. "Nope. You know I work best last minute."

"Yeah, well, I don't, and I'm having a hard time figuring it out."

"Just have Greg help you," she answers, fixing her hair in the camera of her phone. I sigh and lean against my locker. "Greg is gone this week on some trip for school. So he isn't exactly 'available' for help." I give her a pointed look but she simply shrugs, tucking her phone away and smacking her wet lip-glossed kissers. "Well, I'm busy all week so I can't help. Wish I could!" She gives me a bright smile and bounds off. I roll my eyes. "No you don't," I mutter to myself. She may be my best friend, but that doesn't mean I can't see any of her faults.

I hurry to my class as the warning bell rings. I slip into my seat just as the teacher starts roll-call. Tim, the guy who sits to my right, grins at me. "Close call, Meg." I laugh and shake my head. I shove his shoulder. "Shut up."

"Miss Creon, please keep your hands to yourself."

I could hear Tim snicker next to me and I shoot him a nasty look.

Ugh, math and history never go by fast enough. Why on earth I had them as the last classes of the day, I have no idea. Definitely not my best move.

Tim walks with me to my next class. "So, my best friend from middle school just moved in a couple houses down from me. I'm really excited. It's gonna be great to catch up."

"Sounds fun." I try to sound enthused but I don't think I manage. Tim chuckles. "I think you'd like him."

"Doubtful," I mutter as we take our seats in class. The teacher cuts off any further conversation.

Luckily, history goes by quickly, and I am now free for the rest of the day. Tim offers me a ride home so I won't have to wait on my dad, but I have dance class only a couple blocks away, so I turn him down this time. He, Emmalee and I all grew up together, so we're close. Tim moved away for a couple years in middle school before his family moved back. I tell him I'll catch up later and head to my locker to grab my stuff for the weekend. I also grab the dance bag I managed to squeeze in.

I pull on my jacket and zip it all the way up my neck. I wave to Emmalee as I leave the building and head into the crisp October air. It's just a couple weeks until Halloween; and the school dance.

I walk a lonely few blocks to The Dance Room - a small building that holds a lot of memories. I walk in and dump my school bag and shoes by the door. The aging instructor smiles as she shakes her head at me. "Put it in your cubby, Meg."

"Right, sorry," a sheepish grin creeps onto my face as I collect my stuff and haphazardly shove it in the cubby. Then I hurry to the back dressing rooms to change for class. When I was little, dance started as it would for any normal girl; I wanted to be a ballerina. But as I got older, it became my stress relief - and it felt good to work my body. Plus I could freak Emma out with my flexibility. I don't want to lose it, so that's another reason I still dance.

"Applied to any good schools yet?" Ms Harshwinger asks as I shove my dance bag in with the rest of the stuff. I nod. "Yeah, I have, actually. My current favorites are either Princeton or Yale."

"Princeton or Yale! My, oh my. Well, the ivy leagues will be more than lucky to have you."

I giggle, sitting down and slipping my shoes on. "It's not that impressive, really. I'm just lucky they are considering me at all. There is so much pressure there. My dad went to Princeton, you know."

"I didn't."

"My mom went to Yale. My brother is going to Harvard, so they are kind of hoping I'll follow in their footsteps. But there's only one of me, and two schools to choose from."

"You'll pick whichever one is best, I'm sure."

"I guess so."

I'm sorer than usual after class, but it's manageable. I check my phone and see a message from my mom telling me she left her car here for me. Her and dad will be out on business tonight. I collect all my stuff, say goodbye to Ms Harshwinger, and dig in the bottom of my bag for my set of keys. I eventually find them, shove them into the keyhole and pull open the door. I toss my stuff in the back and climb into the driver's seat. I stick the key in and turn the ignition. The engine purrs to life, and I quickly back out and head home.

I drive past Em's house and the almost mansion with a move in truck parked in the driveway. I only spy movers, though. No family.

A few blocks down I pull into my driveway and kill the engine. I grab my various bags and tread inside, looking forward to my sweats and a tee. I take a quick shower and forego underwear, just pulling on my sweats and an old tee of my dads. It hangs down to mid thigh and has a fluorescent picture of some place in Las Vegas. He got it before he married my mum.

I pull my hair on top of my head as I open the fridge and peer inside. My fringe tickles my cheeks as I tilt my head to look on the bottom shelf. With a smirk I pull out one of my dad's cold beer bottles. The brown glass sweats as I kick the fridge closed and walk over to the can popper. I flip the tab and the magnet catches it as I take a deep drink. The ice cold beverage trails down my esophagus before settling in my stomach. It burns and freezes the entire way down, but it feels great.

With a good buzz going, I head up to my room and plop down at my desk. I open my laptop and a notification dings at me. Tim sent me a message. I open up Facebook.

Tim: Hey girl! Ems and I are heading over to the Cole's house. Picking you up in ten. Be ready!

I glance at the time it was sent. Two minutes ago. I groan, turning my chair and dragging myself across the room. I walk into my closet - which at the moment is only about half full - and flip through my clothes. Feeling extremely lazy, and knowing I'll probably duck out early, I grab a pair of yoga pants and a loose shirt. I pull on a lacy bra, maroon in color, and pull the white tee over it. It hangs dangerously off my left shoulder, exposing the upper most tip of my bra and the lace strap. I can see the outline of it through the thin material.

I drop my sweats and pull on my yoga pants, going commando. I don't feel like digging out a thong.

I grab some no-show socks and a pair of ankle boots. I sit on my bed and pull them on, tugging at the boots before they give enough to let my foot pop into place. I grab a denim jacket and bound down the stairs, opening the door just as Tim pulls up into the driveway. Emmalee waves excitedly at me from the front seat. I climb in the back. "Just why am I being dragged on this trip?" I demand. "Hello to you too," Tim chuckles. He puts his hand on the headrest of Em's chair as he turns to back out. "We're welcoming Em's new neighbors. Which also happens to be my best friend from the move to Wisconsin."

"Small world," I murmur, crossing my arms and flopping back. I don't put my seatbelt on.

Tim chuckles. "Well, I think you'll fit in just fine. Grant and yourself have a lot in common."

I roll my eyes. "I'm staying in the car."

"No, you're not," Tim says confidently and parks the car in the driveway of the house I passed on my way home. He kills the engine and opens his door as Em steps out. "Come on, Meg."

"No." I lay down on his seat and pop a knee up. I put my elbow over my eyes. "I'll just wait for you guys."

"I know you didn't change into that when you got home, so obviously you were planning on joining us. Let's go."

I simply grunt in reply and hunker down into the seat. I hear his door close and a satisfied smirk crosses my lips.

I yelp it surprise and sit up when I legs are tugged and I'm pulled all the way across the seat. I titter on the edge, Tim's face right next to mine. "Let's go, Meg."

"I don't want to," I whine. "I have a headache."

He cocks his head in question, a frown suddenly overtaking his face. "Meg, have you been drinking?"

"No," I lie. It was just one bottle of beer. I'm not that much of a lightweight.

"You know your mom doesn't like for you to drink."

"Yeah, but she's not the complete boss of me. Dad keeps it in the fridge."

"So you were drinking," he confirms. My eyes widen. Damn, I walked into that one. "No," I try to argue. I tilt my head up as he stands. He gently takes my forearms and pulls me up. "Let's go," he presses. With a sigh I give in. If I'm dirtying a pair of perfectly good bootcut yoga pants, I might as well socialize. Ugh.

Em is already pressing the doorbell when Tim and I join her. It's a moment before the door is flung open.

My breath whooshes out of me, leaving me struggling to fill my screaming lungs.

I hear Em say something, but I'm totally transfixed by the boy leaning on the doorframe, a half smirk and mischievous eyes domineering his features. A small layer of groomed stubble covers his sculpted chin. His brown eyes catch the light, making his black pupils stand out. His hair is coiffed perfectly. A long buzz on the sides, fluffy, longer, and styled up in the middle. Medium brown in color to match his beard. His body is absolute perfection - muscular and built, but not a bodybuilder.

I bet he has amazing abs.

His eyes lock on mine. I feel the tingling sensation of a blush across my cheeks. His grin widens. "I'm Grant." His voice holds the tint of an accent. "Megara," I say softly. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Like Creon's daughter?"

"Um, yeah . . ." My blush turns to one of shame as Tim opens his mouth. "Funniest thing, though! Her last name is Creon!" Tim bursts into giggles, and Grant chuckles along, laughter dancing through his eyes. "You have the worst parents. Almost as bad as mine, Meggie."

Nevermind. I don't think he's beautiful anymore. Nobody ever says anything bad about my parents. Or calls me Meggie. Infatuation over.

What a jerk.

Grant steps out of the doorway and motions for us to enter. "Well, come on in. The others are in the living room. Excuse the mess, we just moved in today." Emmalee and Tim take no time in hurrying inside. I remain on the stoop. Grant quirks an eyebrow at me. "Are you coming in?" I shake my head dumbly. With a chuckle he shrugs. "Okay, whatever. Stay there for all I care." He closes the door practically in my face. I pull my jacket closer around me and cross my arms. I lean back against the house and cross my ankles. Gosh, I hate insufferable a-holes like him. Such snobbish jerks.

The door opens suddenly and someone yells in surprise. I turn my head and see a boy a few years older than me. "Grant, why is there somebody on the stoop?" He screams into the house. I roll my eyes and look toward the street. A chill wind blows by.

I hear a voice but not words in response to his question. He steps outside, closing the door behind me. He thrusts his hand out. "Hi, I'm Drew. And no, it's not Andrew. It's actually just Drew." I grin, actually beginning to like him. "Hi. I'm Megara." I accept his hand. He has a firm grip. "Cool name," he says sincerely. I smile. "Thanks."

"Can you sing?"

"Huh?" I'm sure I'm making a dumb face. I tuck my arm again. He laughs. "I'm not making fun, I swear. But if you do sing, please record "I Won't Say I'm in Love" and send it to me." His smirk pulls at the right side of his mouth. "No offense. You look like Megara from Hercules. The Disney movie?"

"I know the one," I confirm. I feel another blush come on. "Actually . . ."

"Oh my gosh, you've actually done it before?!" He full out laughs, and something about it makes me burst into giggles as well. His countenance is so different from his brother's - he seems genuinely . . . nice. He sighs as he comes down from the high of laughing. "Okay, let's make a deal - I'm gonna get the karaoke track for "Go the Distance" and record myself singing it. I'll send it to you if you do the same with your song. Do we have a deal?"

I bite my lip, gnawing nervously at it. But I finally nod. "Sure. I'll do it."

"Great! It's the best housewarming gift so far." He grins and lightly punches my shoulder. "I'll see it next week then?"

"I'll try . . ."

"Wonderful. Look me up on the big blue book. I'm probably on Tim's page."

I nod. "Okay."

"Well, I hate to duck out, but I'm afraid I have a prior engagement. Betcha Ads will like you, though."

"Who?"

"Gotta run, but I'll see you around! Don't be a stranger, okay?!" He backs off the stoop and waves as he turns and hurries to the driveway, leaving me confused. He climbs in the car next to Tim's and waves one more time before backing out. I lift my hand in farewell.

"What a flirt."

I whip my head to the left, where Grant is leaning in the doorway once more, shaking his head slightly. His arms look bigger squished against his chest. (Stop that, Meg.)

I duck my head and turn away. I stare out at the road. "What do you want?"

"Alex said I'm not a good host for leaving you out on the stoop. But apparently you were having fun."

"You didn't care about leaving me. Why are you out here?" It comes out harsher than I intended, but I turn to look at him. He shrugs. "Like I said, Alex said to come and get you. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less if you stay out here and freeze." I roll my eyes and look away again. "Well then, if it makes no difference to you, I'll stay out here, thanks." When he doesn't respond I turn my head. He's staring at me with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable. I squirm a little under his gaze. His eyes drop from mine as I lick my chapped lips. His eyes meet mine intensely. "Come inside."

"No thanks," I murmur stubbornly. Our gazes never leave. Those deep chocolate orbs seem endless. "Come inside," he murmurs. I open my mouth to say okay when my phone rings. I jump in surprise and pull it out of my jacket pocket. That tingle persists as I feel Grant's eyes on me. "Hello?" I answer without looking at the ID. I glance at Grant before plugging my other ear.

"Honey! It looks like Daddy and I will be home early. We were thinking about making a family night out of it - how does that sound to you?"

I look up when I hear a quiet chuckle. From the look on his face, I can tell Grant heard her. I frown and turn the volume down on my phone. "Yeah, sounds great. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Are you not at home, sweetpea?"

"No, I went out with Tim and Em. But I'll head home now. I'm only a few blocks away."

"Alright, I hope we're not pulling you away from some fun! Oh, which sounds better; the new IT, or the new Spiderman?"

"I've already seen the new IT, mom," I murmur behind my hand. I hope Grant isn't listening.

"Oh, that's right, you went and watched it in theaters. I still don't know why you went by yourself. I would have had to have your dad there so I would have something to grab onto."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not a scaredy cat, mom."

"Yes, yes, I know. So, Spiderman?"

"I've seen that one, too. But you can get it. I know he's dad's favorite. It's a good watch."

"Great! We'll get that one, then. Make some popcorn when you get home, okay? Walk safely!"

"I will," I mumble and hang up. I turn to Grant to explain that I'm leaving, but I know immediately he heard it all. "So, you're not scared of clowns?" He leans onto my side of the doorway, and his hot breath washes down my face. "You're not scared of IT?" A cocky smile plants itself. I shove his shoulder (oh gosh those muscles . . . no, don't drool, don't do it) and barely manage to move him. He moves right back. "Go away." I snap.

"Have family nights very often? Do you invite Hercules to join you?" He mocks. I ignore the pain of hurt in my chest and blink. "I prefer Hades, actually." This seems to throw him off for a second. I keep a straight face as he starts to frown. A triumphant smirks comes over my face as he realizes what I did. I start backing off the stoop, similar to Drew. "Well, according to Drew, I'll be around more, so I might catch you later."

He adjusts his position so he faces completely out. His black jeans have rips along them, and I can't help but zero in on the skin exposed. It could be a twin to his chin, with soft dark hair gracing it. The muscles argue over being contained in the denim. I feel the saliva building in my mouth and look away. A warm breeze circles. A right-side heavy smirk slowly forms on his lips. Plush, pink lips . . . so deliciously full . . .

(Damn you, Meg. STOP LOOKING AT HIM. Just walk away! He's a jerk, remember?! You DON'T LIKE HIM HE'S UGLY. UGLY UGLY UGLY!)

"I'll see you around," I say hurriedly and twist around. I quicken my steps.

"Hey, Meggie, wait up!"

Against my will my feet slow, but only slightly. I feel a strong, warm arm touch me. I look down as his tan arm keeps me from moving. The body heat rolling off it makes my whole body flush in heat. His hand is dangerously close to my breast.

"Where you going?"

"Home," I whisper breathily. His deep chuckle vibrates through his chest. "What's your address?"

"1700 Jailbait Lane," I manage to give the response my dad told me to always, always give to boys. He laughs this time. Like, really laughs. "You're funny," his hot breath on my ear makes heat rush through me again. The tingle starts in my cheeks once more.

I feel the left shoulder of my jacket slipping off my shoulder. His fingers deftly scootch it out of the way, and he slips a folded piece of paper under my dark bra strap. "Nice bra," he murmurs. I glance down at the thin shirt, then at my shoulder. "Call me, Meggie."

I whip my head to my right in horror, but he's gone. I turn and stare dumbly as he walks back into his house.

(Damn, he's got a nice butt . . .)

I shake myself and grab the piece of paper. A phone number is scrawled in black pen.

Maybe calling him isn't such a bad idea.

I shake my head and shove the paper in my pocket. I stomp towards home. (Shut up, Meggie.)

---

So . . . I've had a really hard time writing these days. I started this a while back, and decided to go ahead and start posting as much as I have of it, starting with chapter one. I won't keep posting it if it doesn't get good feedback. So, please let me know if you like it!

Also, I'm not super happy with the title right now, so if you have any ideas PLEASE shoot them my way!

Again, please review!

Ciao Bella,
Angel Princess 31