((Warning: This may shock you of how mature this is. Deal with it. Even though I'm 14, I know how this world turns. Just because I'm a Christian doesn't mean I shut myself out to the truth of the ugliness. Yes, this is fiction. Don't freak. And this is really my first try at realistic fiction/romance. Oh really? Ya really.))

Why can’t people just shut up for five minutes? Chatter really isn’t necessary while someone is trying to write a five paragraph essay for the Oh-my-gosh-this-is-so-hard-please-help-me English class. And they’re all hanging around me. Me, Chrystal Summers, the ex-nerd.

Honestly, I have no idea what happened between the last few days of school last year and the first minute I walked into this building a few weeks ago. Maybe it was the fact that my braces were removed finally after a few years of sheer torture, or possibly that I got contacts instead of the huge, geeky square-framed glasses, the classic nerd look with the white strip in the center. Or the fact that I had grown more nimble and muscular, graceful and lithe, since I began taking ballet classes last November. I had no clue.

Here in Varidian High School, they have four rules to succeed, at least, in the social charts which the teachers never, ever, bothered with. You had to be beautiful, smart, athletic, or artistic to survive. Last year could hardly qualify me for the lowest of the lows in the chart. People like Jessica Vanderson, the tall, blonde and dumb girl sitting in the desk beside me, chattering away ruthlessly, making my ears want to bleed, used to group me in with the nerds, in fact, even the nerds despised me. It was sad, I can tell you, very sad.

I scribbled in the margins of my notebook, furiously venting out my anger on the stick-figure representations of my classmates. The long skinny one with the spiky hair was Jessica, my “best friend”, being fried by an electrical surge. Why couldn’t they just shut up? I didn’t care what Jessica thought of Jeremy and Angela hooking up behind a diner, then going their different directions. I couldn’t care less.

“Hey, baby.” Speaking of the devil… I turned and faced Jeremy, narrowing my eyes at him. He was what many of the cheerleaders would call a hunk. Yeah, a hunk of vomit. He had deep, dark green eyes, and if you stared at them too long, I think he could hypnotize you. That might be the reason he’s never actually been on a real date.

“You coming to the party Friday night?” Ugh, yes, I want to make out with you, let me go to the party! Ugh, no. Heck no. Jeremy very well knows that I hate him. He makes me uncomfortable with his crooked, football player’s smile, and large muscles. If he wanted something of me, he could get it by force. “You know, you have the most gorgeous blue eyes.” He whispered in my ear. I shivered.

And you have the worst attitude. He knew this made me extremely uncomfortable. Last year, I had bumped into him on accident, when I was still below nerd status and into the invisible-but-yet-still-there-and-disgusting area of the social chart, and he started stringing words I had never heard of before. Obviously swear words. Now that somehow I grew into one of the “popular people”, I suddenly was the girl to get.

“And the softest, blackest hair I have ever seen.” Please stop. You’re getting annoying. “And the most perfect lips.” Okay, that’s it. I stood, silent, gathering my stuff with pure agitation rolling off of me. I was sure Jeremy could feel it. Yep. “Where you going, toots?” Jeremy had a deep voice, one that could barely be heard over the noise of the teacher-less room. (Mr. Jenkins had left us to do something to the jammed staff copy machine.) And it sent shivers down my spine every time he leaned close like that.

“Home.” I bolted through the door just as the last bell rang to end the school day. Tomorrow, I started an art class. I was allowed to, since I already took an English test that passed me for the entire year. (Who knew they could do that? Certainly not me.)

However, Jeremy wasn’t about to give up the only girl who hadn’t hooked up with him in the entire neighborhood. He followed me until I reached my car, an old, rusted, and worn down thing that no one could really tell what it really used to be.

Oh great, I had the brains to park all the way in the back, where the dumpsters were. I felt my stomach squirm with fear. Oh crap.

Jeremy stood behind me as I threw my stuff in the back seat, an overpowering presence. I finally dug up enough nerve to ignore him completely, and started to get in the car. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the driver’s seat. This wasn’t the first time he had followed me to my car, although, usually, I had enough sense to pick an overly crowded area where one of the girls would throw themselves at him. Supposedly, he was a very good kisser. I really didn’t want to find that out.

He pulled me closer to him, oblivious to my struggling. He ran his fingers through my hair and I writhed in discomfort, dread filling my whole body up. Mother wouldn’t understand what had happened here if Jeremy forced me to make out with him. My mother was a devout Christian, fully against sex before marriage and drinking alcohol. I agreed with her. But my mom could get very protective of me, even though I can take care of myself. Well, it’s possible that I couldn’t get out of this one alone.

Jeremy put a hand on the small of my back and I jerked back harder than before. Oh, dear Lord, not now! He leaned in closer and I could feel the heat of his breath against my neck. I could taste the sweat on the palm of him hand that he thrust over my mouth to keep me from yelling.

“Hey.” A voice came from behind Jeremy. “Are you a vampire or something? Scram.” Jeremy halted in his tracks and turned around, his eyes dark and blazing. There stood a boy. He was as tall as Jeremy, but much, much thinner. His shoulders were about as broad as mine, but he was still muscular, in a graceful, catlike way. He had short, spiky dark hair, and eyes to match, which gave him a strange, unbalanced, look. His mouth was screwed in a frown, but one of his eyebrows was raised in an oddly sarcastic manner.

“Did you hear me, idiot? Scram.” Jeremy took another look at me and frowned.

“We’ll finish this later.” Oh, geez, please no. I stared past him and watched the mystery boy who had just rescued me from… I don’t know what, but it was something I definitely did not want to do.

“You okay?” I blinked, realizing that the brawny football player was gone, probably very annoyed. The boy was now standing in front of me, his dark eyes concerned. Now that he was closer, I could see that his irises were a deep, dark brown that, from a distance, looked black.

“Um… Yeah, I-I guess.” No, I was not. That one was close, even for me, who seems to always find trouble. The teen didn’t buy it. He placed a hand on my arm. It was remarkably warm against my skin. “Thanks, anyways.”

“How long has he been doing that?”

“What?” I cocked my head at him, slightly distracted.

“Trying to make out with you. It was obvious you didn’t want him there.” He had a firm grip. I noticed that his fingers were a slightly purplish in color, like when you accidentally dipped your hand into a paint bucket. “Or was I mistaken and those muffled yells were of delight?”

Gosh, his voice was sharp. I shook my head.

“No, no, no! I strictly am saving my lips for my future husband. I can tell you that jock with socks for a brain isn’t him.” The boy sighed and loosened his grip.

“Okay then. Next time, call for help before he gets to you. I’m sure you don’t want sock-brained children.” A sense of humor, hm. I managed a weak smile, despite my overwhelming adrenaline rush. “See you around.”

As he turned to walk away, I mustered up the courage to ask one last thing. “What’s your name?”

He turned with a smile that almost made my heart break.

“Cash. Just call me Cash.”

***

I woke the next morning with a mixed feeling of relief and anticipation. Cash. What an odd name. It carried a distinctive ring to it. And I couldn’t stop thinking about that one last smile.

Cash had white teeth, straight and clean, like out of a magazine that the junior high girls giggle at, pointing out the hottest guy in the bunch. Maybe it was the charm of his face. He had a square jaw, although it was almost feminine with the graceful, catlike angles. His eyes were a hauntingly gorgeous shape, just like almonds, my favorite nut. I couldn’t remember what he had been wearing, maybe a pair of worn down blue jeans-

Okay, I remembered now. They had been a rough set of blue jeans, with holes ripped in the sides of the legs, giving it a few flaps around his ankles.

There was purple paint on them too, like he had been painting a big house or something. His shirt had been a tee shirt. A white one, and stained with purple also.

I sat in bed an hour before my alarm clock actually rang. I hadn’t been able to sleep well the last few weeks, mostly due to the opportunity for Jeremy to… never mind that. Cash had saved me, and I didn’t want to think about it.

The minute my iHome started pumping music, I was already out of the shower, completely distracted. So much so, I bumped into my older sister, Haley, the Slacker of the house. She was supposed to be in college, but she plain quit and was tied to the house and my vanity mirror. Her room was next to mine, but my father had instantly made it my study room. He was obsessed over my grades and almost ordered me to sleep in there to “soak up the knowledge and leave the house”, unlike my sister. She was the wild one, Haley. She had been caught over sixty times going out to forbidden beer and drunk infested midnight parties. She had snuck through my window over twenty of those times, once even while I was having a slumber party with my then-best-friend Vicky Jones. Haley had tried to step over our dog (RIP Sniffy, 200 cool and accidentally stepped on his tail. Mother at eleven at night is not the best sight.

I mumbled an apology as I scrambled back to the doorway, my face flushing. Haley screeched my name as I stumbled down the stairs. I had accidentally caused her to smear her purple lipstick where it was not supposed to go.

Purple. It reminded me of Cash’s hand, gripping my arm as he asked if I was okay.

“What is up with you?!?” Haley screeched when she finally fixed her makeup disaster and found me nibbling on a bowl of Cheerios. Her red hair almost matched her face. She was fuming. “You’ve been acting weird lately, and that’s twice you’ve made me start all over! Twice!” Always the drama queen. Unlike her, I was more of the one to hold in my secrets, until I burst. Haley was always my father’s daughter. She was his favorite, and he didn’t really care if she got drunk and made out with a guy, or even that apparently, just last week, Haley had discovered she was pregnant with some random stranger’s child. It was to be a boy, she said. Mom cared. Mom was always fussing over us, telling us not to go out past midnight, not to drink alcohol, not to have sex until after marriage. Haley had broken all of Mom’s rules. My little unborn nephew and I were the only ones who had stayed true to my mother’s ranting.

I mean, all of it made sense. Who’d want to bear a stranger’s child and have to raise him? Or get drunk and get killed by hitting a tree on the way home? Maybe I didn’t quite agree with Mom’s curfew idea, but I didn’t have a father who’ll let me go.

I’m convinced that my father hates me. He only wanted to have one child and be done with it. When I came along, his hopes of a nice, early retirement from the local fitness gym was smashed to pieces. Now he’s making certain that I’m worth every penny he puts into me, like I was some sort of banking system that would give him more money in the end.

I just have to get past high school, college, and then finding a job.

Haley tapped her foot impatiently, her red hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Her green eyes were boring into me, like knives, searching for the truth. Instead of bowing to her whim, I held out my bowl.

“Cheerio?”

***

I pulled into the school parking lot, banging my fist on the dashboard. I was late. Well, late enough to get the parking spot near the dumpsters again. Great, just swell. I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and sighed heavily. I sat there, savoring a few extra minutes of my freedom.

I bolted upright, startled by the feral growl of a motorcycle engine. Some guy wearing a racer red full face helmet pulled in beside me. He cut off the engine and swung his leg over the black paint, as if it were a horse of sorts. He yanked off his helmet, revealing short, spiky dark hair with an equally dark set of eyes. Eyes full of something other than lust or fake You’re-popular-I-wanna-be-too friendship. Something different.

Cash and I sat there for a full thirty seconds before I finally unbuckled my seatbelt and got out, our eyes locked.

“Hey.” Cash lifted up the top of a container attached to the rear of his black motorcycle. I opened the back door of my car and grabbed my school things.

“Hi.” And that was it. Cash started towards the school building, his steps quick and light, as he hurried to the big double doors. I watched him go for a second before setting off after him, quickening my pace as well. First period started in three minutes.

***

“Matthew, can you please enlighten us on the answer to question number three on your worksheet?” I fiddled with my pencil as my math partner, Matt, stared at the teacher, dazed. I sharply elbowed him in the ribs. He jumped.

“Matt, she just asked you a question.” Matt wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. The blonde, blue eyed teen shifted slightly, like waking from sleeping with both eyes open. In short, Matt’s everyday math class mode.

“Could you repeat that?” The teacher sighed as she pointed to a big number three circled on the board and repeated her question. This also was normal for this class. Matthew continued to stare at his paper, which was scribbled on, of course.

“I’m sorry, my brain farted. I’m drawing a blank here.” Since when does Matthew ever not draw? Blank or no. Matt then nudged me, whispering.

“What’s the answer to number three?” You’d think that a fellow senior would actually get a simple algebraic equation. I sighed, trying to stifle the laughter.

“Twenty three.” I spoke softly, rolling my eyes as he repeated my answer out loud, so the teacher could hear him. She just blinked and moved on.
I had been lucky today, successfully avoiding Jeremy in the hallways, having an actual excuse when Jessica asked me about the big party that night. I was eager to end seventh period, calculus, and get into my new eighth period class. Art class.

Staring at the clock, I mindlessly answered several questions correctly, much to the surprise of both my teacher and Matt, who went straight back to half asleep mode afterwards. Seconds ticked away, slow and deliberate, circling the face of the clock. I had two more minutes before the bell rang. I have to admit, I was pretty psyched for my first day in art class.

One more minute to go. Matt beside me was almost snoring, even if he was kind of awake. I was starting to itch with excited emotions. Why was I getting so excited over art class? I wasn’t sure, maybe it had to do with leaving Jerk Jeremy and Jessica Chatterbox behind in English, so I could meet someone else. Hopefully I meet someone quieter, someone with whom I might be able to carry a coherent conversation with. Nothing about who had slept with whom, or who’s hot and who’s not. Or clothes. Gosh, I hated the “fashion talks” with Jessica and her posse.

Thirty seconds, I counted, gathering my math book and worksheet. I stood, exactly one second before the bell rang. Forgetting to nudge Matthew to wake him up, I nearly bolted out the doorway. Dodging freshmen loitering about in the hallways, I found my locker and spun the dial several times. When I pulled it open, several papers fell out. Confused for a second, I gathered them up. They were entirely out of place in my organized-by-period locker space. I glimpsed a heart on one of them. Figures.

These “love letters” came nonstop, whether I was at school or not. I was still jumping every time one of them fell out of my oh-too-neat locker. Most of them were from love sick boys who, like little girls over celebrities, obsessed over the “popular” girls. Occasionally, I received some notes from girls, asking me how to get boys to notice them, like I had my own “Ask Chrystal” column in the school newspaper. Honestly, I didn’t care much for these notes anymore. At first I had been flattered, but now it’s just excessive.

Something on one caught my eye. It was written in block-like letters in pencil. Three words, each written in the same uniform lettering. “See you soon.” He didn’t even have to sign it. I instantly knew it as Jeremy’s.

On a sudden impulse, I balled my hand into a fist, hearing the satisfactory crinkle of the paper. I tossed it into a nearby garbage can as I passed it on my way to class.

***

I really didn’t know what to expect when I walked up to the door of my new eighth period class. Maybe I was expecting a small cozy room, or something large packed with the “tortured artists” and the quiet girls usually seen doodling during class. To my surprise, it was a bit of both.

Maybe it was the fact that there were only five people in the room (including the kindly old teacher sitting at her desk by the door), that made the room seem gigantic. Tables were littered in a spontaneous manner across the room. A chair here, a desk there. It looked like chaos, but with some odd order. Sculptures donned several tabletops, along with pencils, papers, and the occasional brush. Paint splattered across the linoleum floor gave the room a bit of charm.

Someone was in the back corner, engrossed in their work. Meanwhile, three girls were huddled over a large strip of paper (most likely a banner of sorts). The teacher smiled at me, her blue eyes sparkling. Something told me that she was a grandmother. I managed a smile back at her.

“Hi there, sweetie. I’m Missus Penelope McCommick. You can call me Penelope.” At Penelope’s voice, the girls looked up, curious at the destruction of the moderately quiet air. I recognized the Venderson twins, and someone who resembled-

“Vicky?” I must have looked very surprised, because she stood up straighter. She still had the sand colored hair and the same round chocolate brown eyes I was used to, but she lacked her glasses and acne problem she used to have.

“Chrystal?” She spoke slowly, as if she were unsure of herself. Suddenly, she broke into a grin and ran forward, her thin arms wrapping around me. “It is you!” She laughed.

“But I thought-“ Vicky cut me off by squeezing me harder.

“You’ve changed! So much!”Vicky exclaimed in short bursts. I smiled. Old, excitable Vicky Jones. The same Vicky who had avoided me all summer long.

The Venderson twins, both girls of medium stature with brown hair and matching eyes, walked up to us.

“Jenny! Penny!” What’s up with the rhyming names? “You’ve got to meet Chrystal!” Jenny was covered with marker ink, and so was Penny. Come to think of it, so was Vicky. I said hello and half-listened to Vicky’s excited chatter with the occasional Venderson chiming in. I was focusing more on the kid in the back corner.

It was difficult to see him since the back corner was totally blocked off from the main room with a mesh-like material that had a high opacity. I could see a silhouette of him, moving to the beat of the music playing softly in the background. Vicky stopped talking about her first few weeks as a senior and followed my gaze.

“Don’t bother him, he’s in his zone. That’s his corner. No one has been in there but him, and he rarely ever comes out of there.” I watched an arm swipe across something. I could see a brush in his hand. It paused. He paused, as if his train of thought had been severed. The silhouette put down the brush and stretched, reaching high. A hand pushed at the curtains, and with an eerily loud screech, they parted. A boy stepped out, clad in a plain white tee shirt stained with dark blue and rough, worn down blue jeans.

It was Cash. I blinked. I guess the shock came from the fact that I secretly knew him to be an artistic type. He and I stared at each other, not the awkward, gawking stare, but a genuine gaze, unwavering and equal.

“Hey.” This tended to be his official greeting. I stepped towards him, ignoring the whispers behind me. I stretched a hand forward, offering it to him.

“I never really got to introduce myself properly. I’m Chrystal Summers.” Cash looked at me for a few more split seconds and took my hand, grasping in warmly. He wasn’t smiling, but I could see satisfaction glimmering in his eyes.

“Cash. Cash Roberts.” Roberts. Hm. I smiled at him and when Vicky and the twins went to answer one of Missus Penelope’s questions, he smiled back at me with the same heartbreaking smile from the night before. I felt my blood rush to my face, but I didn’t look away.

This must be one of those “true love at first sight” kind of deals. Or, I just seemed to have a huge crush on him, or not, I’m not sure. I ignored that fact and just watched him. He was still smiling, even though the girls had turned back around.

“Come with me, Chrystal.” He turned and pulled on my arm. I looked back at Vicky and the twins. They were gawking, jaws dropped. Penelope just winked at me. Penny had her hands folded over her heart and mouthed “awwwwww” at me. Vicky then gave me this look that suggested that she was completely baffled. Jenney gave me the thumbs up sign. I had no idea what the heck was going on.

Cash took me to his corner and closed the curtains after us. It was cozy in there. There were two stools and an easel covered with a cloth. Paint tubes littered the floor, most of them empty. A CD player sat in the very back corner. Cash sat on one of the stools and beckoned me to join him on the second stool. When I sat down, he was staring at his blue stained hands.

“Nice, huh?” He looked up at me, imploring with those almond shaped eyes. He gestured around him. “But it gets quite lonely in here.” This was the most he’d said to me ever since Jeremy’s intrusion.

“Oh, yeah.” I looked around, slightly awed that he had his own space. “How did you get Penelope to allow you to do this?” He looked at me as if I was growing a second head.

“Pen lets us do anything in here. It’s such a small and talented class that all she really thinks she needs to do is tell the office we’re here and make sure we get a final project out by the end of the school year. It’s usually something really big.” I nodded, recalling a masterpiece painted by a girl who was now taking art classes in college.

“So…” My voice faded as I thought of something else to say. I didn’t have to. Cash turned to me and put something in my hand.

“In case you might like to hang out sometime.” I looked at the slip of paper. On it was an address and a phone number. “That’s my cell. My mom only lets me use the home phone when it’s something urgent. And she listens in on my conversations.”

“No kidding. Mine does too.”I blushed when I realized I had said this out loud. The only thing I could do was to say something else, quick. “I was really happy when I got my first cell phone on my fifteenth birthday.” Cash just smiled at me and I almost melted.

“I know what you mean.” He gazed at the ceiling, putting his hands behind his head. I stared at the curtains, seeing a vague outline of everything beyond. We sat in silence for a minute. I was going over what had just occurred in my just-catching-up brain, while Cash leaned back, putting his hands behind his head, balancing on his stool. I shifted, pulling the bottom edge of my blue tee shirt down further, covering my white belt. Cash shifted as well, listening to the flow of the soft violin coming from the CD player. Suddenly, I felt his eyes on me. It was surprising how fast I turned towards him. I was still a little confused a little. Cash blinked at me before putting his hands in his lap again.

“Hey… I know this sounds really weird, but you’re different from all the others,” he said, looking at me with an odd light in his eyes. I watched him as he leaned back. “You won’t understand, but I’ve dealt with a lot of crap from girls.” I didn’t blame him. Some girls were just plain obsessive over guys they’ve deemed as cute.

“It’s okay, I understand. You are different too. You won’t understand, but I’ve had to deal with a lot of crap from most guys nowadays.” I blushed again. Cash grinned at me. He understood. He cared. We sat in silence for another minute, Cash still relishing the music from the CD player.

“Well… Time’s almost up.” Cash stood and started to pick up the paint tubes littering the floor. “You should get going.” Me? I stood and looked down.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Call me sometime, okay? Whenever you get bored.” He smiled at me as I nodded at him.

“Sure. I have dance recital tomorrow at nine, so-“ Cash paused.

“Really? At Jasmine’s?” He had his arms full of paint tubes. I could see green, blue, and purple still on the linoleum floor. I bobbed my head, surprised.

“My mom works there sometimes. Maybe I can come say hi every once in a while.” Cash smiled at me. “I heard you are quite the dancer.” He jerked his head towards the outlines of Vicky and the twins. “Victoria told me so.” Oh yeah, Vicky’s first name really was Victoria. I had gotten so used to calling her by her nickname, I almost forgot. Besides, we hadn’t seen each other all summer, so I had the chance to forget a lot about the girl who had pretty much been my social life all of my high school career.

“Uh, sure. Feel free to stop by.” I pushed the curtains apart, feeling slightly sad at leaving the little enclosed space. Cash went back to cleaning up after himself. I watched him for another second before closing the curtain behind me.

Before I even had time to walk three feet, Vicky jumped on me, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me heartily. Penny was nearly fainting with excitement. Jenny was watching me with an almost awed expression. Vicky couldn’t stop speaking nonsense until I gave her the Look, which shut her up for five seconds to recompose her thoughts.

“What happened? Tell me, tell me, girl, you have to!” By then, my teeth were clattering against each other with the ferocity of her shaking me. Jenny rescued me by placing her hand on Vicky, stilling her animated movements. When I didn’t give an answer right away, Vicky bit her lip, her eyes dancing with anticipation. She was always looking for something excited.

“You don’t know how big this is. No one has ever been in his zone. No one.” She shook me one more time. “What happened when you two first met?” This set off an excited outburst from emotional Penny.

“Did you drop your books when he walked by, and did he help you?” Her eyes lit up. “Oooh! Or did you trip and he helped you back up?” I never tripped often anymore. It was that ballerina’s touch. “Or did-“

“He rescued me from something.” I mumbled, barely audible over the music still flowing from Cash’s CD player. Penny ignored me and was still spouting “romantic” ways of us meeting. She swayed and sighed, folding her hands over her heart again. Vicky took a hold of my shoulders again.

“Girl, this is huge! Do you know how many girls have asked him out? He denied every single one of them! What did he say?” She emphasized her words with another shake.

“I-I think-“ I stuttered, quite unsure of myself. “-we’re friends now.” I turned my head back to his corner. I could see a glimpse of a smile, friendly and more open than before, just before it disappeared from the minor crack in the slightly open curtains.

“Yeah…” I whispered mostly to myself since Penny had started spouting more romantic scenes and Vicky squealed with excitement. “…we’re friends now…”
 
***

I sat in my driveway for a few extra minutes, listening to my radio and staring at the slip of paper in my hand. I need, I need a hand to hold. To hold me from the edge, the edge I’m sliding over slow- I heard the girl from the band SuperChic[k]’s voice slide over the drums and guitars in background. I studied the paper in my hand intensely, as if it would suddenly become sand and slip through my fingers. Studying the handwriting as hard as my eyes would allow me before starting to water, I sat back in my seat.