Life

"I don't," she replied. It was true. "You know what you should do with that?" Nicole asked, indicating the picture.
"What?"
"Hang it above your bed. Then, before you go to sleep every night, you'll see my beautiful face." I laughed until it hurt. Nicole did, too.
"Beautiful?" I asked, "not hardly."
Nicole cut her eyes at me, like she had done so many times before. " Didn't we already go over the not-being-an-******* thing?" she asked.
Amber gave the same irritated look, "I think we did."
Suddenly I got a brilliantly mischievous idea. I tried to steal Nicole's quiche, but she dodged me. At least I knew I had Amber's attention, as she laughed at us.
"I thought you weren't as bad as Sunny and me." It looked like she and Nicole had been talking.
"So did I," she said, rolling her eyes, and allowing me to take the quiche. I noticed that Dad's car had just pulled up, and I jogged to it. As if they were reading each other's thoughts, Amber and Nicole called after me, "Real men don't eat quiche!" They giggled. I loved to hear her laugh.
Nicole placed her stuff in the backseat, next to me. Odd, she usually sat up front.
"Why don't you ask her out?" She said, putting her seatbelt on. That explained it.
"I—" I thought about it, and came up short, "I don't know."
"She obviously loves you. Did you notice the look in her eyes?"
"I know."
"So why not?'" she hounded.
"I— um— timing." I responded.
"Timing? She loves you; any time would be good."
~~~~~
The last sentence echoed in my head until far after dinner when I was going to bed and I could finally address the thought. I got into the shower, running the water extra hot to relax my troubled mind. I let the words reverberate until after I was done brushing my hair and washing my face. She loves you. Indeed she did, but it was so strange to hear it spoken, reassuring even. I brushed my teeth. She loves you. I looked at my face in the mirror with careful scrutiny. My skin was tan, and my eyes were mostly blue. My hair was light brown with blonde sun streaks in it, and my eyebrows were arched so that there was always a playful look on my only almost-symmetrical face. I wasn't all that handsome, but Amber seemed to think so. I wondered what she thought of her reflection. Did she see what I saw— a seraph's face? Or did she scrutinize herself? Could she even see her striking beauty? Did she notice the angel I perceived?
Any time would be good; Nicole's words seeped into my thoughts again. I thought about the possibilities. There was before school on Monday, and at lunch, after school and— the concert. I tossed to idea around in my mind. During our very first concert, she had declared her love for me. Now it was another milestone— our first high school concert. It would be exceedingly romantic, but I wasn't sure if I could overcome my shyness by then. I stepped into the hall, and rapped lightly on Nicole's door.
"Who is it?" She called quietly from inside.
"It's me." I said, suddenly unsure, though I had asked Nicole for advice before.
"Oh, come in." I opened the door hesitantly. "What do you need?" She was lying in bed, reading.
"Um, advice." She put her book on her night table, and sat up, drawing her legs under her.
"About?"
I winced, "Amber."
"Oh." She dragged the syllable out and made it three tones. "Go ahead and sit down."
I sat on the foot of her bed, "You said any time was good—"
"I knew you'd dwell on that!" She said, victorious. "Sorry, go on."
"You said that any time would be good— but what time would be perfect?"
"Aww, you might be a romantic, yet," she cooed.
"Nicole." I said miserably. She gave good advice, but she always taunted her 'baby brother' as she did.
"Okay, okay, " she sighed, "There's the concert."
"That's what I was thinking, but I don't know if I could get over my nerves by then, and then there's the timing once we get there."
"Before the concert, after the concert— what's so hard?"
"I won't know how to start the topic, and it's not like I'll have you there to give me the green light."
"Well that's the beauty of love. You want to do everything just right, but you can't have it that way. You just can't. Don't you see that John? You will be nervous. There will always be the possibility that there was better timing. Nothing about love is perfect except that you love her and she loves you. Love is being happy with the imperfections."
"But I don't know if I could be happy with imperfections." I complained, matching her passionate tone.
"Then you're not in love." Dismissive, she knew I'd crumble under her inducement, even though I knew she was baiting me.
"I am. I guess I could live with imperfections, but what about Ben?"
"Oh." She grew quiet. Her face fell, "I hadn't thought about that."
"He would be by her side the whole time."
"I know, I know." She expelled a sigh.
"And she would be guarded, too. I've run her around in circles so much. I'm not sure she would believe my sincerity."
"Actions always speak louder than words," she suggested, an undecipherable look in her eyes.
"You mean—" I said, shocked.
She nodded, "Kiss her."
She was matter-of-fact, resolute. She said it calmly, and so assuredly, that I was lulled into forgetting my skepticism, but soon after the shock of the words went away, as well as the slight musical quality, the scorn returned. "Ben?"
"He'll deal with it."
"Timing?"
"Follow your heart."
"Thanks, Nicole." I softened.
"Anything for you, John. Goodnight." She said, gently, the taunting completely gone from her voice.
I stepped out of her room, shutting the door quietly, "Goodnight."

AMBER
When I got home, I was dwelling, as usual. I dialed Kathleen.
Ring. Once. Ring. Twice. Ring. Sold. I drew in a breath to leave a message.
"Hi, Kathleen, it's Amber I was just calling about—"
"Hello?" She interrupted the message.
"Kathleen!"
"Hey, what's up?"
"I'm dwelling on John, as usual, and I'm worried about the concert." I could always be honest with her.
"You're always dwelling on John, nothing new, but what about the concert?"
"Well, I don't know what's going to happen, so I keep on playing scenes in my mind about what could be."
"That's unhealthy. What have you come up with?"
"I think I want to kiss him— as I hug him goodbye." I admitted.
"Aww! How romantic!" I began hyperventilating. "What's wrong now?"
"Saying it makes it so much more real." My voice had raised an octave.
"Do we need to put a label on you that says 'warning: subject to romantic delusions'?"
I laughed, "Maybe. It would only be fair to the innocent bystanders. I don't know; maybe he does love me, or maybe I couldn't get him if I tried."
"I think he does."
"Why?"
"He stares at you in the halls, don't act like you haven't noticed."
"So?"
"He flirts with you in Orchestra."
"Revise that to 'he irritates you in Orchestra' and then you've hit the nail on the head."
She giggled, "You're such a cynic."
"I know, but I will kiss him."
"Ben?"
"Will be there, but I don't care. I can't tell him to stop loving me, and I've tried to push him away, but no luck. Maybe if I kiss John, he'll get the hint."
"Hint?"
"Okay, okay, message scrawled on a billboard in big block letters that says 'I LOVE JOHN;' posted atop the Empire state building, edged in flashing lights and put on national television; framed by a dramatic sunset, wreathed in fireworks, on the Fourth of July. Did I mention that it explodes every twenty minutes and clones itself right before the explosion, so that one will always be there?"
"Better. Though it doesn't have to be the Fourth of July. So?"
"Stomach— bottomed out. Mind— dwelling. Hands— idle, I think I'll play cello."
"Good for you, dweller."
"It's only a momentary diversion. I'll find myself thinking about it again. Besides, I have to sleep eventually—"
"And with sleep comes dreams. Yeah, yeah, I know."
"How do you put up with me?" I asked.
"One aspirin at a time, sweetheart."
"Thanks. What would I do without you?"
"Dwell on stuff until it consumed you like fire. Then go off the deep end because you thought you could fly— and because you were on fire."
"I'll fly once I kiss him."
"Dwelling." She singsonged.
"Bite me. So how're you?"
"Got mono, from Cameron."
"Shouldn't have been kissing on him."
"Watch you get mono from John." She laughed. I did too, unable to resist the profound comedy.
"You were supposed to keep me from dwelling!" I said, making my voice sound hurt.
"Oh, I was?" she said, mock astonishment in her voice. I could only imagine the look on her face.
"Shika." I pleaded, invoking her nickname.
"Okay...stop dwelling. I've done my duty."
"Thanks, you're so helpful."
"What time is it?"
"Five o' clock."
"I gotta go, my Mom will be home soon."
"Okay." I said reluctantly.
"He loves you!" She insisted.
"Do you support my plans?"
"With all my heart, so long as you follow yours. I love you."
" Thank you, Kathleen; I needed that. I love you, too."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye, my loyal friend."
The phone disconnected, and I sat in silence for a moment. He stares at you in the halls... he flirts with you in Orchestra... I shuddered. I had noticed something, but never to the extent that Kathleen ever did. I realized that I was dwelling again, so I began to pluck my cello. Outside of the kiss I was sure to give, who knew what the concert would bring?


CHAPTER XXII
AMBER
"Why not?" I asked, desperation rising in my voice.
"My Mom said I couldn't come." Kathleen said, her voice bearing the same tone.
"But I wanted you there. I not only wanted you to be there, but I wanted you to be a part of it. This is something big to me, and I wanted my sister to be a part of it."
She sighed, "I'm so sorry."
"It's not you."
~~~~~
I had Sunny do my hair and make-up instead of Kathleen, because her mother wouldn't let her come. We chatted while she straightened my hair.
"So you're gonna kiss him?" She asked, incredulous.
"Yeah."
"No." I was met with horror.
"Why not?"
"You could ruin everything."
'I know. " I said, "I know."
~~~~~
My boots clicked against the concrete and echoed in the halls, before being engulfed in the cool night air. I sighed, not a mournful sound, but a happy one— a noise of contentment. I shifted the cello on my back, and pulled the door open.
It was a shock between the cool, silent night, and the backstage hallways, warm, and teeming with people. The noise was unbearable. I stepped into the rehearsal chamber, and it was worse, all except for a quarter of the room, which was relatively clear. John, Ben, Teresa, and Katie were its only occupants. Either John was extremely gorgeous, or I was extremely biased. Maybe both.
I knelt down and unpacked my cello, taking special care to be gentle. John and Ben noticed me.
"Hey, Amber!" they chorused.
"Hey." I unsheathed my bow.
John's eyes danced as he walked around behind me, "Better view from here; nice cleavage." Ben chuckled. I glared at him, my jaw dropping into a scowl before hitting him, with much more force than necessary.
"Ow!" He couldn't hold it back.
"Serves you right, you pervert." I growled, standing and striding toward Mrs. Allen's eldest son, so that he could tune my cello. He gasped.
"Your bridge is really white," he remarked.
"I painted it."
"I've never seen a white cello bridge."
"That was the point." I said, smiling happily.
Two seventh graders walked up, "Did you draw that?" they asked, indicating the painstakingly painted, silver accented, rose on my tailpiece.
"I did, indeed." It took a whole weekend to do.
"It's beautiful." They dragged the word out so long that, in chorusing each other, they sounded as if they were singing a song.
"Thank you." I said, gathering my instrument, bow, and sheet music, and heading toward the stage. I set my cello down as soon as I got there, and then placed my music and bow gingerly on the stand. I went back to the rehearsal chamber.
"You look amazing Ms. Teale." I noted to our intern, as I passed her. I looked to the quarter of the room, and noticed John staring at me. I flashed a smile, and after helping to tune a few middle schoolers, I went outside, more comfortable in the night than with people. I sat down on one of the benches in front of the school, and heard a familiar voice from the past.
"Amber!" The voice was that of Victoria Kirk, a close friend of mine who no longer attended Florida High. We ran up to each other, and she gave me a rib-crushing hug.
"By the way, this is Ethan, my boyfriend." Ethan was incredibly tall, with willowy limbs, and blonde hair, which, had he brushed it, he would be incredibly handsome.
"Hi, Ethan, I'm the reason you're here."
Next, I greeted Ariel, her sister, and my long time friend, was introduced to her boyfriend, and then gave their mother a hug. We walked inside, though it took much coaxing from Victoria's part, because I didn't want to see the audience. As far as I was concerned, looking at the audience was like looking down; doing so meant certain death.
"You'll do good, I promise." She reassured, and I stepped up onto the stage and took my seat in third chair, the best place for everyone to see me screw up. Yay.
It was five minutes before the concert, so according to protocol, I was stuck on the stage. I sat next to Teresa, in John's chair.
"Are you ready to totally bomb it?" I asked, mock excitement in my voice.
"Yeah!" she said, matching my tone.
"What was I supposed to be doing?" I asked.
"Breathing?"
"Right, that." I said, having to consciously focus on breathing.
I felt a light tap on my shoulder, "Up," John commanded.
"No. I'm going to steal your spot and your cello and I'll play back here. You can go play in third chair where everybody is watching you. At least you'd get to use my cello."
"Why would I do that when I could laugh at you?"
"You're such an *******." I invoked my favorite insult for John, getting up and seating myself on the floor between their chairs.
"Good luck, you guys." I said, "Though, we're a little past luck."
"Hey, John, switch endpin holders with me." Teresa pleaded.
"What's in it for me?"
"My endpin holder."
"No."
"I'll turn the pages." She offered.
"Nope."
"I'll give you a hug." I blurted.
He hesitated, before giving an unsure, "No."
"You're such an *******." I commented. He traded endpin holders. "All I have to do is call you an *******, and you're suddenly nice?" He shrugged.
Teresa and I exchanged glances and began squawking about how John was an *******.
"Am I nicer?" He asked, amused.
"We'll see." I said with a grin.
I went back to my seat and soon after, Mrs. Allen walked past. Chris Dawkins, a senior cellist who sat beside me, called her over.
"I need a separate stand," he hissed. We had done this over and over in class, because by sharing a stand, he couldn't see the music. This little fact had been overlooked during setup.
"I would have to go to the band room and I don't have my keys. I'm on in five seconds. Can you manage?" She asked. He nodded, but the look on his face was a definite 'no.' I scanned the room for an extra stand with no luck, until I spotted a stand dolly in the farthest corner of the auditorium. Putting it away had been overlooked, too. Mrs. Allen grabbed the microphone and gave the parents a green light to take pictures of their children. I stepped quickly off of the stage and walked past her, nodding toward the stands. She winked at me to go get one.
Dodging photographers both young and old, I made my way to the stands. I got one quickly, but had to dodge the photographers, again, on the way back. I walked around backstage and onto the rostrum. I passed him the stand, and noticing that he was struggling with the switchover, held his bow and helped arrange his music. I figured that it was my job as a member of the orchestra to help us sound as good as possible. It was a team and my teammate could do his best if he could see the music. He thanked me profusely.
~~~~~
I had tripped through the pieces, doing my cello no justice, and the missteps didn't go unnoticed.
"The violinists sucked," Aaron Vaughn, freshman prodigy announced.
"Agreed." John, Ben, Teresa, and I chorused.
"The cellists sucked."
"And it was all my fault." I added.
"Agreed." I heard from John and Ben. Teresa looked sheepish, and then agreed, too.
"The violists sucked."
"All but Nicole." I said, "What a freaking prodigy."
"Our bassist did good."
"Yeah!" Everyone cheered. We all loved Dalton, since he was our only bass player.
"Let's get some food." John announced, referring to the reception set up for us.
"Let's," more agreement.
~~~~~
Nicole motioned to me, "Psst! Amber!"
"Hi, Nicole!"
"Hey," she said looking quickly at Elly who stood next to her, "come cut in line with us." Before I had time to move, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the mob-like 'line'.
She motioned to Ethan, who stood beside Victoria, "I know that kid! I know that sounds dorky, but I used to have a crush on him in elementary school."
"Trust me, I've done worse." I grabbed a cookie.
"I so don't want to know."
"As a matter of fact, I am doing worse." Her face fell into a grimace, of sorts.
"Nobody should love him. Nobody." She snorted, "He is such a loser." Her face lit up, "But I could bring in embarrassing photos! I was a big photographer when I was little." I blinked hard, smiling slightly, and then shuddered. She happily changed the subject. How did she know?
I took my plate and set it down on a table next to Ben and across from John. Justin Frazier, a freshman violinist was at my right. There was a puddle next to John's drink.
"What happened there?" I asked making a gesture to the puddle.
"John's klutziness." Justin remarked. The tilt of the table was slightly towards me, and the puddle was slowly approaching.
"Look, the puddle is John's love for you. See it advance?"
"Watch it turn around." John said. I rolled my eyes at him and blew it off.
His mother appeared by my side, but I said nothing about her presence, and nobody else seemed to notice. Only until she spoke was she realized.
"You look beautiful." She said to me. "Like a true lady." I noticed a pointed stare at John, who shrugged so slightly that I may not have noticed it had I not been watching for a reaction.
"Thank you," I managed, noting myself her breathtaking face. It was like being complimented by a goddess. She stepped away, silent.
"The puddle is getting faster." Ben noted.
"Watch it just stop." Justin said.
"I'm leaving. Y'all are irritating me." I hissed.
I sauntered up to Nicole, across the auditorium from me. She smiled as I approached; a beautiful gift of a smile, but something that was perceptive, and in being so, it was ominous. Sunny walked up alongside.
"This is my twin, by the way." I said to Nicole. "I'm coming over here, because they're irritating me."
"Good idea." She said, the trace of a smile on her lips.
"You're John's sister," Sunny said. Nicole nodded. "Poor you."
"The worst part of it is that many people, including this one," she indicated me, "come up to me every day to express their hatred of my brother. It's awful."
I shook my head, "Never hatred. I don't hate him, I find him to be exasperating, but I don't hate him. He's actually slightly charming if you get past the irritation." I admitted.
"Charming?"
"If you ignore the irritation." I was suddenly sheepish.
"It's best to just ignore him completely." Sunny said.
"You got it!" Nicole said.
Her mom jumped in, "Time to go."
Nicole nodded, "I'll be right back." She went and hugged Elly, then returned. I hugged her goodbye.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Amber," she said.
"You, too."
"I should totally bring in pictures, it would drive John insane." I laughed, and they left.
The kiss was never given, because I was afraid to risk it all. And I would have, that night, had I gone through with it. I would have risked three years of my love. Was I cowardly, or cautious? I couldn't be sure.

JOHN (AFTER THE CONCERT)
"You chicken ****!" Nicole accused, a little loud for the ride home.
"I never got the chance." I tried to defend myself, but honestly couldn't. She was right; I was a chicken ****. "Never mind, I did avoid it. I'm a chicken ****."
"Why not ask her out?" my mother interrupted, "She is so pretty."
"And she loves you." Nicole said, smoldering in the seat next to me.
My dad, who was driving, offered no salvation.
"Maybe that's why— she's pretty. It's intimidating."
"Liar." Nicole muttered.
"You're intimidated by her?" I hated it when my mom interrogated me.
I was honest, "She has power. That is, the power to reject me. Anyway, I didn't have the timing."
"You drove her away with your insufferable behavior. She would have stayed by your side, had you not irritated her to death." I was accustomed to the annoyance in her voice when I did something stupid. I must have really screwed up this time.
"You did say that any time was good." I retorted, and she didn't speak to me the rest of the way home, not liking her own words turned against her. It was just as well by me.
~~~~~
"Well, John?" Nicole asked coolly, sitting on my bed, "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Nothing."
"That's always a start, but here; let me tell you what I had to say for you. I let on that I know that she loves you. Luckily for you, I didn't blurt it out that you love her. You need to get over the shy streak of yours, and get over your aversion to timing."
"How did you—?"
"I said about how I had a crush on Ethan in grade school, and I said it was dorky, and she said she has done worse. Then she said she was doing worse. Yes, genius, that would be you. So I said that nobody should love him because he is a loser, and just to set it in stone, I said that I could bring in embarrassing photos since I took a lot of pictures when I was a little kid." She looked pleased with herself.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"So sorry, you don't think like a woman. Let me guide you on the train of thought; you told me which means that it matters to you. If it matters, you either hate her or you love her, and with the way you've been flirting, you can't hate her."
I sighed, "Thank you so much for complicating things."
She was still smugly pleased, "You're welcome."
"Does it make me a coward that I didn't go through with it, or does it make me a romantic to look for a better time? Who's to decide? Am I wrong for trying to do things right? Am I bad for fearing rejection?"
She bowed her head, defeated, "No. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have gone off on you. Come here." She hugged me, "Will you forgive me?"
"All right. I guess I have to, to keep getting advice. But respect my decisions."
"I don't, but I can accept them."
"That's always a start."

CHAPTER XXIII
AMBER
I walked to class with Danny, an eighth grader who was in my Algebra class, as well as my friend, Wendy's brother. John walked with a small group of people alongside us, and I caught him looking at me. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Danny went to Health, turning to the Gym while I walked on to Orchestra. John walked alongside. I danced into orchestra, singing, for once.
"We get to party! We get to party!" I accidentally bumped into him, and we began to laugh and then burst out into song, "We get to party! We get to— whoa!" Ben walked in with pizzas, seven loaded in his arms. A cheer rose up in the orchestra.
"My parents really liked the performance," he said.
Mrs. Allen had Katie, Teresa, and me help serve people. Mark Miller, who talked to me for the very first time only yesterday, and who addressed me by name that first time, was in charge.
"This is going to become a tradition, for ya'll," he noted, "I did this my freshman year, and never stopped." We began serving.
Nicole walked in, "How did you get away with that shirt, Mark? That doesn't fit dress code."
He laughed, "I had a jacket on all day."
"I got away with this shirt." There was an inch of skin showing at my stomach, while our shirts were supposed to tuck in.
"Nice job being a whore," she said, jokingly.
"Nicole! I'm shocked!" She gave a ****-eating grin.
"Quit holding up the line, Nicole." Mark said, sham irritation in his ever-happy voice, as we were making faces at each other childishly. We all began laughing.
Finally, we sat down to watch the video of ourselves, and like Mark had predicted, it was a blood bath, a massacre, slaughter, unfit for human ears. There was no observation of dynamics, we weren't following Mrs. Allen, and our intonation was totally off. We failed. Miserably. The worst part was America the Beautiful, because we couldn't see the conductor, since she had to stand far away from us so that the middle school orchestras could see. It was so horrible that the whole class laughed through the entire song, including Ms. Teale, and Mrs. Allen after she was done scowling at us. After five whole minutes of laughing as hard as ever I had, my sides were killing me. The bell rang after, and we were free to go. As I left, I heard Katie sing, "We su-ucked eggs! We su-ucked eggs! Like no one did before!" to America the Beautiful. How charming. The bad part was only that it was true.
~~~~~
Sarah went home early, leaving me alone with Sean, Joe, and Ben, who were posturing. It was so absolutely irritating that they were doing so, because they were fighting for my attention. I chose to ignore them all, just to be cruel. I sat down beneath a tree, but Joe shook a branch, scattering leaves all over me.
"Dammit, you got it in my hair!" I growled.
"So?" they asked, laughing.
"It took an hour and a half to get my hair like this! It takes forever to straighten it!" I picked a brilliant red leaf out of my hair. Ben stood behind me and helped get the leaves out, then reentered the fray. I continued to ignore them, and Ben quickly left the discord, noting my disinterest, and sat by my side. I lay down, showing that I was relaxed around him, and actually started singing. I never sang in front of people. Maybe I wasn't a lost cause, after all. Maybe I wasn't ruined for love.
"They're so stupid."
"I agree." I said, and then giggled, "Didn't that concert suck?"
He chuckled, "That video should never see the light of day, again."
"That was hands-down the worst concert ever." I laughed even harder.
"The party was great, though," he said.
"Especially the pizza," I noted. "You're our hero."
He was flattered, "My parents didn't know any better, so they thought we did great," he rolled his eyes.
"Mine, too." I said, pantomiming hanging myself.
"Speak of the devil, my dad is here." He said. "Bye."
"Bye, Ben. See ya."
I had to give him credit; he tried awfully hard, and he knew how to go about courtship better than most guys. He wasn't gorgeous, but he practically worshipped me, and now I knew how it was for John— that is, to have someone love you that you didn't know whether you could love in return or not.
He was obviously a better choice than John; he treated me better. He had never used my heart as a marionette puppet and tangled the heartstrings. He took me seriously. He was a friend to me, and an ally. He was undeservingly sweet to me, too, and always so gentle, but he wasn't John, and I was spoiled to John. Could I ever love another?

CHAPTER XXV
AMBER
I walked to the back of the school, about ready to ***** Sunny out. Today, she insisted on going to Art Club, which she was supposed to do yesterday, but went to Subway, instead. Today, I had too much to do to wait at the school for an hour, but I had to anyway.
I lay down, using my backpack as a pillow when Cameron walked over. Cameron had been in our graduating class in sixth grade, but failed the grade. Now, he was an eighth grader, but still one of our posse.
"Hey, Amber, how was your day?"
"Horrible, but that's not what you wanted to hear, is it?"
"No, but I had a bad day, too."
Ben walked up.
"Hi, Ben, how was your day?" we chorused.
"How long are you going to be here?" He directed at me.
"Until four."
"Better, now." He said with a pleased expression. I felt my skin crawl.
After about thirty minutes, Kathleen had arrived, after practicing her song for the Music Performance Assessment. I immediately forgot my unease that I had been carrying since Ben walked up. Everything was all right with Kathleen around, no matter what. Even with Kathleen there, Ben flirted perpetually, pursuing me even harder than usual. It was slightly flattering, though I found myself more irritated than flattered.
"Quit flirting with Amber and go home, Ben!" I heard John call from the middle school building. Soccer practice must have finished.
"Did you hear that? The audacity!" Ben scoffed.
I tried to give him a gentle push away, "I agree with him."
Something flickered behind his eyes, but he masked it quickly. We changed the subject.
"I hardly get to see you." Kathleen told me, "I'm so happy to just be around you anymore."
"Me, too."
"If I could do one, I would turn a cartwheel!"
I launched into cartwheels and round-offs, "I could teach you." I offered.
"No you couldn't."
"What part of hand-hand-foot-foot do you not understand?" I asked performing a cartwheel in slow motion, to demonstrate.
"All of it."
After Kathleen left, Ben and I were left completely alone, and it was slightly awkward, considering how much effort he put into courting me. At one point we were talking about our parents.
"What's the worst thing your parents ever made you do?" I asked.
He thought about it for a moment, then a smile spread across his broad face, "Mom taught me how to escort."
"But that's cool!" I objected.
"Then she made me escort her into La Fiesta." We burst out giggling. "Quit laughing," he said between chuckles, "I don't want to escort my Mom, anywhere." He stopped laughing, and looked at his feet "I even told her that the only person that I'm ever going to escort is," he looked at me through his lashes, "my girlfriend. What about you?"
"My Mom had me cook dinner every night over the summer, and I hated it at first, because I could never get the concept of timing down, but now I love it, and I'm really good."
"What kind of cooking?" He inquired.
"Some Middle Eastern and some Oriental, but I do Southern cooking best."
Without thinking, he blurted, "I love a lady who can cook." He blushed at his forwardness.
And the conversation wasn't even weird, yet. As a matter of fact, by the end, our conversation dissolved into strangeness. Just strangeness.
"I went on the Washington D.C. trip last year, and there was this girl, Caitlin who was so freaking pretty. I was seriously drooling when she stepped on the bus." My mom drove up, as he was finishing.
"Okay, so what was the point of telling me that?"
He grimaced, "I really don't know. Sometimes I forget you're a girl." My jaw dropped from insult. "I didn't mean it like that," he insisted.
"You could just say that I'm easy to talk to, and I'd probably take it as a compliment."
He blushed, "You're easy to talk to."
I laughed at him, "Articulate your thoughts, genius."
~~~~~
"Who was that?" my mom asked as I got in the car, expressing a sudden interest in my friends.
'"One of my buddies." I replied.
"He loves you." She singsonged.
"That's Ben— what'd make you think that?"
"Just the way he looked at you, like he was so happy to be talking to you. His body language."
"Oh, God." I grumbled.
"What?"
"He's irritating. Outwardly so."
"So is John, but you love him." I had never told her that I still loved John. How did she know?

CHAPTER XXIV
ERIK
"Suzy?" I approached the car miserably, "Would you fix my tie?"
Her middle-aged face softened, "Sure, sweetie." She tied it as I traced her movements and then could do it for myself if need be, though she did it impeccably fast. Nicki smiled at me from the backseat, and I returned the gesture, pulling the door open and sitting beside her. I produced the wrist-corsage I bought for her, and placed it on her right wrist. Her eyes twinkled a bit, and she was obviously pleased that I was making a big deal out of being her escort. We made miscellaneous conversation until we pulled up at the enormous brick building that was the ballroom. We only had to wait a moment until a couple Nicki knew arrived.
"This is Kathleen, and this is Cameron." She motioned to each of her friends.
Cameron was a person who I automatically respected. I saw the way he was attentive toward Kathleen, and kind as well as chivalrous. His black hair was slicked back very much like the Godfather, and pale green eyes stared at me from under heavy black eyebrows. He was probably intimidating to others, and he used that to his advantage as Kathleen's protector.
Soon, another girl, by the name of Sarah arrived. She had allowed her nephew, Colin, to come as her escort so that he could be at the dance. Then a girl named Wendy showed up, and then Kathleen received a call on her phone from the rest of the posse, a pair of twins who were lost around the wrong side of the building, and Wendy, Sarah, and Kathleen went to fetch them. They were back shortly with two in tow.
One had long, curly brown hair, which was so dark that it was almost black. She wore a relatively short mint green dress, and heavy make-up. Her gait consisted of tiny steps toward the rest of the group. Her skin was dark tan and her eyes pale green. She wore a pale green necklace and green eyeshadow.
The other was not as extravagantly made up; she wore only eyeliner. Her hair was straightened and she had her bangs parted to the right side of her face, casting shadows across it. Her countenance was one of confidence and her eyes smiled at me before her lips did. Though her dress was tight around the legs, she managed long strides. Her hair was reddish-gold and framed her pale face nicely. She wore black, dangling earrings, and a hematite necklace. Taking her in, I concluded that she was the only one modestly dressed, who still managed beauty. She sauntered up to Cameron, who relaxed his fighter's stance at her approach. Suddenly the person who resembled a tiger resembled a tabby cat. She gave him a hug, "Kind of Sopranos-ish, don't you think?"
"Actually, I was going for 'Godfather' but 'Sopranos' works, too."
She giggled as she approached Nicki and I, and hugged Nicki as well.
"This is Sunny," Nicki motioned to the green clad girl. "And this is Amber."
I extended my hand toward Amber, who took it and gave me a firm handshake. I looked into her eyes, a trick I found gained most people's respect, and oddly, she did the same. Her eyes were very green.
~~~~~
After being abandoned on the dance floor by Nicki, I decided to go outside onto the balcony, and one observant individual noticed my absence. I watched her open the door and step onto the balcony. She was hesitant.
"Erik?" she asked, softly. "Would you like company?" It was irresistible the way her hair framed her face and washed down her back, a waterfall of gold. She sauntered over to my side, sidestepping an arch so as to remain passive, a motion that was meant to put me at ease, but I was at ease already. "Nicki abandoned you?" She asked.
"Yes, but it's nicer out here."
She nodded agreement, remaining placid, "I love the night. My problem is that I can never stay awake to bear witness."
And thus, a conversation was born. Somehow it included much politics, the war in Iraq, the existence of mythical creatures, and Sarah, who had gotten bored with dancing. No matter if Amber agreed or disagreed with my opinion, she was attentive, looking me directly in the eyes with her body angled toward me. She was accepting of a differing viewpoint, and she listened well. I respected that. The topic veered to the music leaking from inside.
"That's horrible." I mentioned, "Won't they play some Rock?"
"Hip-hop is fatal in large amounts." Sarah noted.
"How are we supposed to dance to that?" Amber said.
"I could dance to Rock, I could even dance to classical music, but not this."
"You ballroom dance?" Amber asked, eyebrows raised and her head cocked to one side, making her face look very expectant.
"Yes, I do." I responded.
"Could you..." she trailed off.
"Teach you?" I finished. She nodded. "Sarah, you too?"
"Sure." she replied, "Why not?"
I taught Sarah, first: the basic box step, then I more than willingly moved to Amber. She was sitting on a bench, watching us, so I helped her to her feet. I noticed her blush at the fact that I was chivalrous, and I wondered if she was acquainted with courtesy, but by her reactions every time I was kind, I doubted it.
"What will it be? Slow dance, waltz, salsa?"
"Slow dance." She said, slightly breathlessly.
"As you wish." I was rather pleased with her choice, myself, as there was a battle raging inside of me between desire and chivalry— that is, the want to touch her, and the known need for her consent. "May I?" I asked permission to place her arms around my neck. She nodded response, and I put us a little far apart, where another person could fit between us. I placed my hands on her waist, and felt her shudder under my touch. She hesitated, but I didn't relent. She looked into my eyes, and I started swaying us back and forth. "Maintain eye contact at all times," I advised.
"Why?" She asked. I noted that she asked that a lot. I wondered for a moment how to describe it before I got a wonderfully expressive idea. I turned over the balcony, "Boobies!"
She laughed at me; a tinkling, and pleasant sound— she had the cutest laugh, "Any other rules?"
"Actually, yes. See where my hands are now?" she nodded, "That's good. Too low—" I dropped my hands to her hips, and she shied away from me slightly. So slightly that someone who was watching wouldn't notice, but her dance partner did. I brought my hands quickly back to her waist, "that means he wants to touch your butt. Too high—" I placed my hand on her ribcage and her breathing became troubled. "If their hands are too high, they want to touch your boobs, or they're gay."
"That's quite a difference, between gay and touching your boobs." She said breathlessly. I moved my hands back down to her waist, and she immediately became a little more comfortable.
"You may move a little closer, if you wish." I suggested, searching her expression. She moved closer, her face masked off from showing emotions. She looked into my eyes, and I into hers. She had the most beautiful eyes, a background of green with flecks of gold and silver and blue. I loved her eyes. I loved her nature, also. She was very easy to get along with, and she was herself towards me. While the others flirted with me, they were not themselves; they wore masks of themselves, exaggerated caricatures, while Amber proudly wore her own face. I looked over that face.
Her eyebrows were arched so that her expression bore a skeptical look. Her lips were ever smiling, and rather dark against her pale skin. Her hair fell over her face and shoulders in a pleasing, graceful manner. Her cheeks blushed. I became lost in her eyes, truly hypnotized by a dance, or maybe it was my dance partner. I couldn't be quite sure.
I didn't know how much time had elapsed until Sarah cleared her throat. Amber broke gaze to look to Sarah, her arms falling from my shoulders. I held around her waist for a second longer, not wishing to let go just yet. We had edged very close.
"Thank you for the dance, Erik." She said softly, after we had separated.
"No, thank you." I replied, meaning it with every fiber of my being. I had been spellbound. Suddenly, a Fall Out Boy song echoed from inside. She grabbed my wrist.
"Come on!" She chirped, excitement dancing in her eyes, and a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. She bound headlong into the ballroom, her hand laced in mine.
After the song, we went back outside, and she apologized for dragging me back in there. Fan-girl moment, she called it; I couldn't help but be amused. A bit after, she complained of a headache, and I pushed a couple pressure points on her forehead, and one at the base of the neck. After she got over her amazement that I knew all the pressure points, including the forty-two that could kill instantly, we began talking about her ex-boyfriend, Matt.
"He told me he loved me after four days and spoke of marriage on the fifth!"
"Someone's desperate." I commented.
"He went out with me. That has to be a sign," she snorted. I decided not to comment, though I disagreed. "You should teach me the pressure points."
"There are thousands."
Her eyes danced wickedly, "I only need to know forty-two."
"I'm not going to be responsible for teaching you how to kill people," I said, walking over to the railing and standing on it.
"What are you doing?" Amber asked sharply, "You'll hurt yourself."
I knew for a fact that I wouldn't, because I had done this before, but I enjoyed her concern. I jumped down for a minute, and examined the relief that was written all over her face. I decided to test her, jumping back up, time and time again. Finally, she grew weary and her sharp cries turned to mild pleas.
"You're going to fall, and I'm going to cry." She pointed out, and I almost fell at the comment. Why did she care?
We only went back inside for one more dance, the Cha-Cha slide, and spent the rest of the evening in each other's company along with Sarah and the occasional others. As we were about to leave, I gave her my rose, and the look on her face was irreplaceable, priceless. I would do anything to see that smile again.
"My contact information is on Nicki's Myspace." I announced, hugging my new friends goodbye. I lingered on Amber, the one who chose to be herself. The one who hypnotized me with a dance. The one who set off a little spark inside of me. The one who I prayed would contact me, and feared she wouldn't.

AMBER
I sat perfectly still, allowing Sunny to straighten my hair, the candy-apple red straightener making a clicking sound whenever it closed. She patted my back.
"Up." She said, "You're finished." I dashed across our tiny room to look into the full-length mirror on the door. I decided that I liked it, so I rushed back over to Sunny and gave her a hug.
"Thanks, love." I said, meandering back to our closet and finding my dress. It was red and black with roses all over it, and rather form fitting. I grimaced at the spaghetti straps, but decided to still wear it, and as I put it on, I was careful with the way Sunny had arranged my hair. I wore only eyeliner that night.
"What will I wear?" Sunny asked.
"The dress you picked—?"
"I don't like it." She replied.
I turned to the closet and pulled out every dress I owned except one. This, I knew, would be the one she'd pick above the rest, and I wanted to make sure she'd look at the other options, but seven dresses later, we had no luck and Sunny was distraught.
"I just won't go!" She complained, almost in tears.
I decided to reveal the last, "There is one..." I reached to the very back of my closet. "A 1940's nightgown, belonging to Softa." I let the Hebrew word for 'grandmother' roll off my tongue with a musical quality, as I took the dress out.
It was a little below knee-length, and pale, winter green. The skirt was made of three layers of almost-transparent material and one layer, at the bottom, of solid. The waist was wide and the top had a beautiful scoop to it. This dress was a piece of art.
"Habeas toga; you may have the gown." I watched her face light up, and it was worth letting her use it, every bit. She finished dolling up, and we were on our way.
~~~~~
Once we were there, we started off lost, and stayed lost, until Sarah, Wendy, and Kathleen came and got us, and it turned out that we were only on the wrong side of the building. As we approached the others, Cameron's ever-troubled face softened, and his stance relaxed. I was surprised that he let Kathleen come and get us without his presence.
I hugged him, noting his slicked back hair, and suit, "Kind of Sopranos-ish, don't you think?"
"Actually, I was going for 'Godfather' but 'Sopranos" works, too." He replied, always a joker.
I laughed at him, as I walked up to Nicki and— Erik? Yes, that's what Nicki said his name was.
He was very well dressed for the occasion; crisp suit, white tie, and a white rose fastened to his jacket. His hair was short, fair, and rather curly. His eyes had a slightly faerie quality in the way they were shaped.
"This is Sunny," Nicki introduced my twin. "And this is Amber," she indicated me.
He extended his hand toward me, and I took it. We shook hands, and, noting that his handshake was very firm, I went one notch down from his firmness. He looked me in the eyes as he gave me the handshake, and that proved him a gentleman. I respected him automatically, undoubtedly the desired effect.
~~~~~
About an hour of dancing had passed, and I had been asked out by a creepy, stalkerish guy named Tony Cooper. Also, Nicki had completely abandoned Erik on the dance floor. Finally, he simply slipped away outside. I followed him, seeing cruelty in her oblivious actions. I opened the door hesitantly, sensing a slight agitation in his eyes.
"Erik?" I called softly, "Would you like company?" The disturbed dancing of his eyes stopped, and I walked a slight arch to his side, since the nature of a fighter states that a straightforward advance suggests a charge, and I could guess from his carriage that he was a fighter. "Nicki abandoned you?" I asked him.
"Yes, but it's nicer out here." He replied.
"I love the night. My problem is that I can never stay awake to bear witness."
Somehow, a rather pleasant conversation rose up from this. He spoke of the Iraqi war, and had some very interesting ideas. He spoke of politics, and was knowledgeable of the candidates. I found myself to be rather impressed, and even though I agreed with him only eighty percent of the time, I was sure to mark his words well. Sarah came out a bit into the politics and found herself out of her element. Someone else came out, and we heard the most horrible music coming from inside. Everyone commented— Erik going as far as to say that he could dance to classical music. I was enchanted. "You ballroom dance?" He definitely had my attention, then.
"Yes, I do." I had to admire his brand of sleek confidence.
"Could you..." I trailed off, surprised at myself for being so eager.
"Teach you?" He finished for me. I nodded shyly. "Sarah, you too?" he asked, not one to abandon people.
"Sure. Why not?" She responded.
By then I was sitting on a bench, and I watched the two and their lesson. It was over rather quickly. He kept them spaced far apart, and chose to teach her the box step, a simple dance that was easy to master. He stepped over and helped me to my feet. It was unnecessary, but gentlemanly, and I found myself blush in spite of myself.
"What will it be?" he asked. He had given Sarah no choice. "Slow dance, waltz, salsa?"
"Slow dance." I replied.
He smiled, "As you wish. May I?" He snaked his long fingers around my wrists. I nodded my consent, and he wrapped my arms around his neck, spacing us pretty far apart, as he had done with Sarah. He placed his hands at the middle of my waist, and I felt myself falter. No one had ever done that before, and it was odd, really, how I fit perfectly in his arms. His velvet voice swam in my head, "Maintain eye contact at all times." It said.
"Why?" I asked. He smiled, mischief dancing in his eyes, and turned exaggeratedly over the balcony, pantomiming that we were actually on a dance floor, "Boobies!" I couldn't help but laugh at his antics.
"Any other rules?" I asked, recovering.
"Actually, yes." He said. He went on to describe the placement of hands. He also chose to demonstrate. Too low meant that your partner wanted to touch your butt. He placed his hands on my hips, and I instinctively shied away from him, but I was tethered by his gaze and couldn't go far. Too high meant that he wanted to touch your boobs, or he was gay. When he placed his hands on my ribs, I felt my ribcage and lungs totally collapse.
"That's quite a difference, between gay and touching your boobs," I said, trying to remain myself, but unable even to breathe. I noted the awkwardness of the situation a second before I felt his hands drop back down to my waist.
"You may also move a little closer, if you'd like." He suggested, peering into my face very hard. Compelled by a force much larger than myself, I edged forward so that there was but a sigh of air between us. My breath caught as I looked into his eyes, for I saw his soul. His was a good soul. It had no resentment, no shame, and no cruelty. There was kindness, there, and love, and a peace within itself. Then I noticed something—when did we start swaying?
Out of nowhere, Sarah cleared her throat, and I felt myself blush. I dropped my arms from around his neck. By then we were awfully close. His hands lingered on my waist for a moment more, and I felt reluctance in his touch. I was sure to thank him for the dance afterwards, to which he responded with thanks of his own. I heard a rock song resound from inside, and without thinking I grabbed his wrist.
"Come on!" I said, dragging him back to the dance floor.
After the one song, we went back outside, happy for each other's company.
"Sorry that I drug you back in there. I love Fall Out Boy. It was a fan-girl moment." I said. After going back to the dance floor, I had a headache from the decibel of the music, and the other screaming fan girls. I mentioned it.
"I can fix that." He said, "I know pressure points."
I was surprised. "Really?"
"Yes. There are thousands, forty-two of which cause instant death."
"So how does instant death help headaches?"
"Hold still." He said, his voice lulling me into compliance, and, though hypnotized I wondered why I was allowing him to touch me— although I had very willingly let him touch me during the dance. He pressed ever so gently on a few pressure points, one at the base of my neck, a couple at the base of my cheekbones, and along my jaw line, and then my temples. It was immediately better, and I found myself rather impressed.
Somehow, we began talking about Matt after that, and I told him that he should teach me the pressure points so that I could use them on Matt.
"I'm not going to be responsible for teaching you how to kill people," he said as he walked over to the railing, and to my horror, stood on it.
"What are you doing?" I asked, urgency leaking into my voice, "You'll hurt yourself."
He jumped down at my request, but jumped back up for my torment. Did all guys insist on testing me? Finally, I really got him.
"You're going to fall, and I'm going to cry," I said. The statement was simple; one of cause and effect, but he stopped immediately. We later went in for one more dance, the Cha-Cha slide, and I danced with Brian who was an Independent Study student in my Latin class. We had adopted him as mascot for second period, as well as for the Level I Certamen team. The rest of the night was spent in Erik's company, and Sarah's, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
As they were about to leave, Erik offered out his rose to anyone, but extended it to me. I took it gladly, and fastened it to the strap of my dress, so that when I turned my head just slightly, I could always indulge in its pleasant aroma. Before he hugged everyone goodbye, he announced that his contact information was on Nicki's Myspace account. I didn't have a Myspace. That would prove to be an issue. He may not even want to speak to me, though. He addressed us all, and the others were far lovelier than I. I would still have to try, though.
After Mrs. Suzy pulled out, Wendy and I sat down to wait for our parents.
"You two would make a nice couple." She said, completely abruptly. I felt my face turn beet-red, a thousand times hotter than the surface of the sun. "Ooh! Amber!"
"Gwendolyn Ann Pomidor!" I growled, invoking her full name.
"Yes?" She said, a resolved calm spreading over her, cockiness engulfing her voice.
"Keep your mouth shut." The four words came out so quickly, they sounded as one.
But maybe it was true. After all, I had just spent the night of my life in the company of a perfect stranger... and a perfect gentleman.
~~~~~
I changed into my pajamas reluctantly that night, not wishing for it all to end. I wanted to go back to the FSU student ballroom and stand again on the balcony with Erik. I wanted to learn to slow dance again and again. I hung his rose upside down by my bed, attaching it to the antennae on my radio. In a little less than a week's time, it would be preserved forever. I wished people were as simple as I gazed at it. The flower was the last thing I saw that night.

CHAPTER XXVI
AMBER
I awoke to the soft, deep sound of Sunny's breathing, and rolling over, checked the time. It was 2:47 in the morning. I sat up, trying to remember why I woke up in the first place, but could only recall a pair of eyes, which only brought to mind the picture of a shattered stained glass window; a multitude of colors splayed out, radiating from the epicenter. They were framed by a comical set of eyebrows, on bronze skin. I knew those eyes. I had avoided and sought those eyes many times, and often at the same time. I had ever longed for those eyes to settle upon me, to find me worth looking upon, though I never knew if they would. Those were John's eyes, and I realized that I was dreaming about him, again.
~~~~~
For the first time, John was among the after school crowd. Were it not for that, I would have gone to Subway with Nicole, which she most obviously wanted me to do. After a while, he got bored with throwing leaves at Sunny, Sarah, and Sunny's friend, Paige, as well as myself, so he stole a note that Sunny had written to Paige. Sunny and I set out after him, but she was quickly left behind. I stayed close at his heels, but he turned so quickly that I could only stay a half a step behind— never alongside, and never able to catch him. Finally, panting, I retrieved the note.
"This had better be pretty freaking important." I said, relinquishing the note to Sunny.
She scanned it, quickly, "It's not. But I didn't remember what I put in it."
"Starts with J, ends with -osh?"
"Could have been." Josh was an eleventh grader who was infatuated with her. I sighed at the absurdity.
"Ooh, a love note!" John taunted.
Sunny walked across the street to an electrical box that was seven feet high, and jumped up onto the top. "I'm running away," she announced. I followed her and jumped up, drawing one leg onto the box after I got my torso up, exactly as Sunny did. Unlike Sunny's climb, I had someone to push me off, and needless to say, she did. It seemed like eternity that I fell, and I landed hard and wrong on my left hand, jarring the wrist. I let out a yelp, and before I had a chance to draw in a breath, John was at my side.
"Are you okay?" He asked, intense and unmasked concern in his voice. I was lying down, in the same position that I landed. His seraphic face loomed over me, his long hair hanging down, casting strange shadows across his cheekbones.
"My wrist!" I snapped, trying to clear my head of his beautiful, thought-clouding face.
He held it gently, his thumbs working over the area, which was swelling a little, "It's not broken, but it's going to hurt."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" I growled, closing my eyes against his beauty. "No. I'm sorry." I said, opening them again, "Thank you, I mean it." I smiled gently at him.
Ben had walked up, but I didn't notice until then. I sat up, holding my wrist. "Someone climb up there and push her off, for me. Please?" Ben judged the distance, and stepped down. I looked trustingly to John, who stepped two paces back and made the jump. Sunny leaped down instead of allowing herself to be pushed. He smiled at me, and his eyes did, too, and suddenly it wasn't so cold outside.
"She's scared of me," he said, wonderingly, helping me to my feet. We began to stroll across the street.
"I would be, too, if I didn't—" I stopped myself, and looked away, blushing. If I didn't love you. John stopped in his tracks and shook his head, as if clearing away a thought, and then continued walking. I had never stopped, so I was a pace ahead of him.
"I stole the note back for you and this is how you repay me?" I yelled at Sunny.
"At least I didn't do it before the concert," she said.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" I asked, coming close enough that I didn't have to shout.
"No."
"So why did you say that?"
"I don't know." She replied, invoking her most infamous response.
After a short time, Mom pulled up and honked, unnecessarily, as usual. As we drove off, I blew John a kiss, unwilling for once, to squelch the impulse to show my love. He waved back, thoughtful.

NICOLE
I tried to get her to walk with me to Subway, but I couldn't convince her to come. Had I been able to, I would have told her everything.
I would have informed her that John loved her, and was going to ask her out at the concert. I would have told her that her beauty intimidated him. I would have notified her that he loved her since sixth grade, just as I knew she loved him. I would have told her about the nights we spent on my bed, talking about her, and the way her face troubled John's thoughts. I would have told her about how our parents knew and approved, and about how Ben stood in the way. I would have said it all.
It would have come out in a rush, these words, because they would have been so many. I would have spilled everything, because John never would, and I could see that, after three years, her indomitable spirit was fading. I could see that she knew Ben was in the way, and she was ready to succumb to the obstacle, but I couldn't let her. I had to show her what John felt, because it would give her strength. It would give her hope, and even though I couldn't tell her then, I would tell her, soon.

JOHN
"What are you doing here?" Amber asked, by way of greeting. Staying after school just became a whole lot better, besides the fact that I couldn't get her to notice me. I threw leaves at her and Sunny, Paige, and Sarah until I was sure I had her attention, but then she began ignoring me, knowing that I would quit. I did, looking for another way to get her notice. I saw a note by Sunny's backpack, and swooped upon it quickly. Sunny noticed immediately.
"Amber! Get that note!" she squealed.
"Why me?" she asked already setting off running.
"You run faster than I do." she pointed out. It was true.
I had considered going easy on her, so that she would think she was getting somewhere and wouldn't give up chase, but I quickly realized that there was no need of that. She ran faster than me, even, and if I couldn't outmaneuver her, it would have been a total loss. Her longer strides granted her speed, and she wouldn't have retrieved the note as quickly had I not looked back. When I saw her behind me, I saw grace embodied, and my thoughts clouded, I broke stride.
"This better be pretty freaking important," she panted, handing it to Sunny, who looked it over.
"It's not," she said, to Amber's displeasure, which was written all over her face. "But it could have been."
She understood immediately, "Starts with J ends with -osh?" Who was Josh?
"Ooh! A love note." I commented.
Sunny had made her way to an electrical box across the street, and climbed up, announcing that she was running away. It didn't bother me. Amber got up after her, and when she was almost at the top, Sunny reached over and pushed her. She disappeared behind the box, and I heard a yelp. I couldn't get there fast enough, thinking whether she was hurt or not. I collapsed onto my knees beside her fallen form, and I swear she looked like an angel who had fallen there, instead of a human being.
Her hair was redder than usual, and framed by intensely green grass. Her eyes were also greener, and blazed like fire, like they usually did when she was angry. I should have taken the appearance of her eyes as a sign to stay away, but I was there anyway like someone approaching an enraged and injured puma. To my relief, she was most tolerant of me while Ben, Paige, and Sarah stayed back, not wanting to risk certain death.
"Are you okay?" I asked, unable to keep my concern out of my voice.
"My wrist!" she gasped, glaring up at Sunny who was still on top of the box.
I cradled it gently in my hands, working my thumbs over the swelling area, searching for a break. Finding none, I announced, "It's not broken," and noticed her wince, "but it's going to hurt."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" She growled, the injured puma showing, but she checked herself, "No. I'm sorry. Thank you, I mean it." I noticed Ben, who was eaten with jealousy. I winked at him, flashing a smile, which always turned out kind of crooked, no matter how I grinned.
"Someone climb up there and push her off, for me. Please?" she pleaded, not noticing the gesture to Ben. Ben stepped back, unable to make the jump. Her green eyes, trusting now instead of angry, found mine, which were always poised on her. "Please?" I obliged, taking two steps back and Sunny jumped down, obviously unwilling to be pushed.
"She's scared of me." I said in wonder, as we crossed the street together.
"I would be, too if I didn't—" she broke off, blushing at what she almost said, though I knew full well what it was. She would be scared of me if she didn't love me. Why would she be scared? Was it because I was reckless? I couldn't figure it out. I shook my head, realizing that I had stopped in the middle of the street. She looked back at me, smiling, knowing that I knew what she meant.
She turned her focus to Sunny, "I stole the note back for you, and this is how you repay me?"
"At least I didn't do it before the concert," she said, as an apology.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Amber asked, smoldering.
"No." Sunny admitted.
"So why did you say that?"
"I don't know," she replied.
After a short time, their Mom pulled up and honked. As they drove off, Amber blew me a kiss, and I waved back, wondering how she could still love me.

AMBER, THAT NIGHT
"Drop Science Honors? Then you'd have to go into my P.E. class. John's in there!" I had thought about that. "Do you actually want to be in there while he and Paige flirt?" She listened to the silence. "Did you actually think that John loves you? He loves Paige." Touché. But I knew that she was right. She had spoken the unspeakable truth. John loved Paige. I had seen it when he flirted with her after school. I had seen it, but I ignored it. Now that I was forced to notice, now that it was thrown in my face, it cut like a double-edged sword. A single tear coursed down my cheek, and I shuddered.
"I really wish you would say something," she said, but I couldn't. I couldn't speak, couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. But though I cried, I had finally accepted that John could never love me in return. It was a sad acceptance, but it was sure. Finality rang in the silent tears that sang me to sleep that night.

CHAPTER XXVII
AMBER
The next day there was promise in the friendship I was forging with Erik, Nicki's escort from the Homecoming Dance. We hit it off instantly. I had gotten his phone number from Nicki in first period, who said he was complaining because no one tried to contact him. He admired me for who I was. He liked that I looked him directly in the eyes when I spoke to him that night so long ago. He liked that I dressed modestly. He said that I was beautiful. He said that I was intelligent. Sunny and Nicki said that he was desperate, but I ignored their counsel.
He was romantic. He was sensitive. He loved me at first sight. He was everything I could ever want. He was everything I had ever dreamed of. He was my savior.

JOHN
In Orchestra, she didn't speak to me. She waltzed in as usual, dancing without intention, but she didn't speak to me. I pushed her a little bit, edging closer to her, trying to start a conversation. But she responded as concisely as possible. And then she just looked at me with defeat dancing in her beautiful green eyes, and without blushing she looked away, looked down at her feet. Tears welled up, but never spilled over. She unsheathed her bow and walked out with her cello. What did I do?

Part Five: Forever and a Day
CHAPTER XXVIII
AMBER
I had told Erik about John, Ben, and Matt. He knew me better than I knew myself, but I found I trusted him with that. I found that I trusted him immediately, but I trusted him especially with that. He wasn't condescending when he granted his opinion on the matter.
"There's more than just John, and Ben, and Matt. Maybe you'll find someone else who will sweep you off you feet." Maybe it was just my imagination, but Erik acted as if he knew something. He muttered something incomprehensible, but I ignored it sitting on my front porch in the twilight air.
"I could say something right now—" I noted.
"What?"
"But I won't."
"Tell me. Please?" He put on the velvet voice of his.
I held fast, "No. What'd you say after the