• I slammed my locker shut and beckoned to my buddies, reminding them of their duty of accompanying me to class. We sauntered down the hall in a line with me at the center, as always. Heads turned and followed us. It felt good to be loved.
    I departed my group amid laughs and swung into my classroom. Hesitating only a moment, I dropped my books onto the empty desk beside me and pulled out my literature homework.
    I was just sitting there reading my book, Romeo and Juliet, when a blunt finger edged over the top of my book and pulled it out of my unwary hands. I looked up and saw Ethan, my boyfriend. Captain of the soccer team, number sixteen, Ethan was pretty popular, and so was I. I had never understood why he asked me out. He’d dated all of the cheerleaders in the school and although I was not lacking in the beauty department, I still didn’t get it. None of my friends were any help. All they came up with was how cute it was that both our names started with the same letter. Emma and Ethan. Big whoop.
    “Wake up Juliet, Romeo’s here!” I twisted my head around dramatically, aware of the crowd clustered around us.
    “I don’t see a Romeo…”
    Ethan leaned forward and kissed my lips ever so softly. I closed my eyes slowly.
    “Now I do.” The girls simpered and the guys cheered. I heard the door begin to creak and peered through the throng to see Mrs. Wells turned around and talking to another teacher. I held up a finger to my mouth and all faces swiveled around to the door; to Mrs. Wells.
    Everyone fell silent and leaped gently over the desks and chairs, rushing to be seated. Ethan stayed only a moment longer, just enough to kiss my cheek good-bye, and then he was vaulting across rows too.
    Mrs. Wells turned around just as Ethan tossed my book back to me. It fell open on a page. Six words jumped out at me. I mouthed them softly to myself. “Thus with a kiss I die.”

    I walked out of the building and, once again laughing along with my friends, began to board my bus. It was conveniently located right in front of the main doors. A boy walked past, forgotten and alone, but for some reason my head turned with his movements. I tried to make my staring as inconspicuous as possible, but Ashley noticed and followed my lead. Her mouth dropped open slightly and her eyes widened, giving her face a comical aspect. She snapped out of it before I did.
    “Emma, get on the bus. Ethan is coming.”
    Not in the least distracted, I said, “Which Ethan?”
    “Your Ethan!” I looked, and there he was, smiling and waving.
    “Quick!” I said. “Go and talk to him. Divert him. I have to see something.”
    Ashley looked at me suspiciously, and I crossed my fingers, praying that she wouldn’t ask questions. I pulled out my phone and reminded her with a flick of my wrist of the only person with her crush’s cell number. Not a moment too soon, she smoothed on a layer of lip gloss and went out to entertain him. I watched for a second. He kept looking behind her, dodging her widespread arms.
    I sprinted towards the boy and glanced back for only a second. As my hair swept past my face, I saw his smile falter. I turned back, and I heard my name called. I ignored the shout and wished with all my might that the boy hadn’t left yet. I’d never seen him before in my life, but something tugged at my mind, an unknown thought. Something about him was familiar to me and I had to know what it was.
    I spotted the silky brown head of the guy about ten feet ahead. Everyone leaped out of the way as I ran past. I looked down to make sure I wasn’t going to trip and crashed into the guys backpack.
    We tumbled forward and landed in a heap. The guy’s bag was ripped along the seams and all the books had fallen out. I stumbled to my feet, but he pulled me down again regardless of the astounded circle of people that had stopped. He opened his mouth, obviously to yell at me, and then, something stopped him. His gorgeous blue eyes shimmered in the light and I wanted to ask him how he got such wonderful eyes.
    “H-hey,” I said cautiously.
    He looked at me oddly. “Do I know you?”
    “No.” My confidence returned to me, and with it, indifference. “Let me help you get your stuff.” The onlookers that had gathered turned away and left. The show was over.
    It took all of thirty seconds to pick up all the bits and pieces. I rose quickly and said, “I’ve got to catch my bus. Bye.”
    “No, wait!” he said eagerly. “It’s Emma, right?”
    “Yeah, bye.”
    “Hold on! Do you know my name?”
    “No. Do I want to? No. Will you leave me alone? Hopefully.”
    This guy was stunned. He looked at me and said, “What is your problem?”
    “All I did was run into you on accident and now we’re best friends, apparently. What’s yours?”
    “Well, fine. It’s all my fault, right. K, be that way. Oh, and if you ever change your mind-”
    “About what?” I was being ridiculous. “What is there to change my mind about?”
    He began again. “If you change your mind, my name’s Brandon.”
    “Right, I’ll remember that.”
    “Just think about it.” I shrugged my shoulders and began to leave. Suddenly the buses began to pull out of the parking lot.
    “Hey! Hey, you retarded bus driver! Wait up!” Needless to say, the buses didn’t hesitate in leaving us stranded. Well, me, at least. Brandon was unconcerned and already halfway to his car. It was a pretty sweet ride. Everything looked right on that car. So, sly beast that I am, I sidled up beside him as he was unlocking the door.
    “Hey, Brandon,” I said sweetly. “How’s it going?”
    “No.”
    “What?”
    “No. Do I want to give you a ride? No. Will you leave me alone? Hopefully.” He stole a look at me from underneath his arm holding the keys. He probably expected a tearstained face, apologizing and begging him to do so. When instead he saw a determined yet mischievous expression, he groaned.
    “Get in.” I smiled appreciatively and skipped around to the passenger side. He slid in and grasped the wheel firmly.
    “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
    He started up the car. “Well, you could explain what was going on back there. First you followed me, then you jump into my back, and then you treat me like crap in front of everyone.”
    “Actually, I didn’t jump, I crashed. And secondly, how did you know I was following you?” He stared straight at his lap. Which, considering how slowly the car was moving at that point, it didn’t really matter.
    “I just got a text from Ashley telling me all about it. Seems Ethan is pretty mad. And confused.”
    “Oh no! Let me see!” I grabbed for the phone in his hand.
    “Ah…nope,” he said playfully. “Not until you promise to be nice.”
    “Okay, okay, I promise! Now let me see that phone. I have to talk to Ashley!”
    He laughed and tossed the phone at my face. My neck snapped up and I bit the keypad, catching it between my teeth. I spit it out and clasped it in my hands, prepared to text.
    “Hey, that was actually pretty cool!” He looked at me and sighed.
    “Yeah, love the spit.” He reached out and touched my wrist. I shivered, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. “Just type, k? The sooner you get done, the sooner I can get that slobber out from under the keys.” I looked at the open phone and immediately noticed the wallpaper. It was a rose.
    “Cheesy! What is up with you, boy?”
    “Well, if you think that’s cheesy, look closer at the banner.”
    I did. Love Never Ends, it read. I grinned and let my hair drape across my face in a sleek curtain.
    I false-coughed “sissy”.
    “Actually, I believe that, k?”
    “If that’s true, then why do I not love E-oh, no. Never mind.”
    “No, if you don’t love Ethan “anymore”, you never loved him to begin with.”
    “But I lost it to him!”
    Brandon swerved and barely missed a collision with a car heading the opposite way. We shuddered over the small valley at the side of the road and finally, fifteen feet into a field, he screeched to a halt.
    “WHAT!” He sounded like he was being strangled.
    “I’m just messing with ya, jeez.”
    “That isn’t a good thing to be messing me with, Emma.” I glanced out the window and studied at the depth of the ruts we had created. Poor, poor farmer. At least it was just soybeans.
    He started to back out of the beans. I twisted in my seat to look for oncoming cars and nearly got decapitated by the sharp-edged seatbelt. Needless to say, I quickly snapped back to my original position.
    “So are you ever going to text Ashley back?”
    “Oh yeah!” I checked the cell phone clutched in my hand and punched a few buttons before I got to the inbox for his messages. Nearly thirty texts lay waiting for me, sealed white envelopes marking the unopened ones. I flipped through them, starting with the most recent. They consisted mainly of Hey, and Are you still there, or Answer me. The earliest today said:

    Brandon, I know Emma’s there, so give this to her after you read it. Ethan’s mad. He saw Emma run after you and thought you had something to do with it. He’ll hunt you down for trying to steal his girlfriend. I don’t know what the deal is with you guys, so tell me so I can tell Ethan. Or not. I wouldn’t want to die either.

    “Oh…”
    “Yeah.” He looked at me oddly. “So what’re you going to do?”
    I sighed and reread the message over and over again. I typed in a short answer and sent it. I snapped it shut and handed the phone to Brandon. He flipped it open again and checked it.
    “What!”
    “Just finish reading it.” He read it all out loud.

    “I’m here Ash, its ok. Just tell him we’re on a date so he will leave us alone. But we aren’t so don’t get any ideas.”

    “You know, technically this is a date.”
    “No, it’s not. I’m giving a girl who hates me a ride. Not even close to a date.”
    The car began to slow down. I looked around. I didn’t recognize the scenery. I’m sure I appeared demented as different scenarios ran through my mind.
    “Are you kidnapping me?”
    Brandon bit his lip. For a while, he didn’t say anything. Then he burst out laughing. He kept laughing as he pulled into an abandoned driveway, weeds choking out the gravel.
    “When first saw me, did you feel like you’d met me before?”
    I nodded. “It was weird, actually. I couldn’t stop myself from following you.”
    He sat back in his chair, stiff as a rail. Then suddenly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed my hand. The same cold shiver I had felt before ran up my arm and into my heart. I reached for my seatbelt, intending to release it gracefully and dramatically, but it caught. I tugged on it. It wouldn’t let me go.
    I dropped He’s hand and wriggled out from under it. Being as slender as I was, it wasn’t too difficult. I leaned backwards against the door. It shifted and I fell out. I landed giggling on my butt. He opened his door. I watched as he skillfully unlatched my seatbelt without a hitch. I frowned, but I couldn’t stay angry when he was taking me home, polite as I was.
    I studied Brandon as he walked around the car towards me. I noticed the elegance in his stride, his perfect hair, the simple beauty of his clothing. I could tell, even though it had no labels stitched across the front or graphics plastered to the sleeves that it was the best; its shape hinted at designer origins. I thought back to Ethan. Was he really that handsome? His entire wardrobe consisted of Aeropostalê and Hollister; but did that really matter? All it did was advertise to thieves that you were rich enough to rob.
    “Need a hand?”
    “What?” My daydream shattered. I looked up to see He leaning over me, arm extended. I grabbed and pulled. He snatched me up and my face came closer than ever to his. I was acutely aware of all of my flaws; the small acne spread beside my nose, my bitten off nails, everything. The awkwardness crept into my heart. Was he as embarrassed as I was? The moment felt like forever. Much too soon, he steadied me and let go.
    “Thanks. Why are we here?”
    You know, I wasn’t expecting the smart aleck answer. I really wasn’t. Maybe because Ethan would never have. He would have bent down and kissed me without saying a word. Instead, I got, “Because I drove us here.”
    The corners of my mouth twitched in anticipation of a smile. I didn’t let it out though. Not yet.
    “No, well, yes, but I mean…”
    He smiled. It set off my own.
    “I have something I need to get off my chest.” Brandon’s hand closed over mine and tugged gently. He wanted me to follow him. I let him lead me away from the car.
    “I have a question.”
    I couldn’t keep quiet. The silence was unbearable.
    “Is it your shirt? Please say yes.” He halted midstep.
    “What?” His beautiful eyes bored into mine. I closed my mouth.
    “Just a joke. You had something you needed to get off your chest. I asked if it was your shirt…oh, never mind. A joke isn’t funny once you explain it.”
    “That’s true. But my question wasn’t for the joke. What did you say at the end?”
    “Yes?”
    “Your last sentence, not word.”
    “Oh. Please say yes.”
    “You want me to take off my shirt.” I sighed. Maybe this guy wasn’t as intelligent as he appeared.
    “It was a joke. You know, laugh.” He laughed. Then he abruptly stopped. Okay, I could understand where he was coming from. It was a bit pathetic.
    “Can we get on with what I was about to do?” He turned back around without waiting for an answer. He let go of my hand, but I grasped it just as it began to fall. It comforted me to know he cared. Could I be in love with him already? It felt as if I was and had been for a long while. But I’d only just met him, known of his existence today.
    I trudged after him through the thick grass until we reached a confusing old barn. Half of it was crumbling; the other could have been constructed yesterday. He guided me to a hidden side entrance where no one would see us. I peered inside. It was dark and shadowy but I had to see what was so important. He stepped behind me and placed his hands over my eyes. I heard a click and his hand brightened from pitch to a deep crimson with light at the edges, where his fingers met.
    “Look around and tell me what you see.” His hands fell from my eyes. Stars danced for a while and then…
    “It’s…amazing…!” Brandon had transformed a barn into a ballroom straight from the 17th century. Curtains laced the window and paintings bordered the walls. I looked up and a huge balcony met my eye. An ivy garland draped over the side. I tapped the floor. It echoed softly across the marble. “How did you do it?”
    “I thought of love. Of life. I thought of the money burning a hole in my pocket.”
    “Yeah, about how much loose change do you keep in those jeans of yours?”
    “Say, three hundred dollars.” I fought my contempt for rich snobs away from my features.
    “Oh, and, how much is that worth to you?”
    “Pocket money.”
    I grimaced just as he glanced up at me from his wallet.
    “What?”
    “I harbor a severe dislike of rich people.”
    “Maybe I can change that.” He took my hand again. The cold feeling emerged for a second. I squeezed his hand and didn’t let him drop it. He steered me over to the pictures lining the walls.
    I looked closer. Women in ball gowns faced men in old-fashioned suits. Other pictures portrayed the same couple every time, a young man and woman at a balcony not unlike the one we stood beneath. Although they had different subjects, the atmosphere implied that the artists were one and the same. In one painting that struck my eye, the man gazed up at the lady in an expression of fondest love. He held out a rose with a single thorn. The lady reached out to pluck the rose from his fingers. Her thumb had been pricked, and a single drop of crimson blood balanced on the edge of her fingertip.
    “Who painted these?” I whispered.
    He looked straight at me; his eyes poured into my soul and pierced my heart.
    “I did.” I shut my eyes quickly. I thought about what he had said. Of how he thought of love, of love, and of money. I obliterated money from my mind. I could think of that at home, when my parents worried nonstop about what we would eat, what we would wear, anything that concerned us, really.
    I started thinking about Ethan again. For a second, I wondered if he had ever painted, or sang, or even had any creativity or time for anything besides soccer. No, of course not. My mind turned to He and I knew he really cared about the stuff he had thought of. I mean, he took the time to paint these beautiful pictures. He had built this amazing secret room despite what his friends would say if they found out about his crazy fascination with love and all things surrounding it.
    “Yeah, sorry, but I have to go. My parents have a heart attack every time I’m not home by five.” I looked at my watch. 4:30.
    “Oh dammit, I’m late for dance!”
    “I can take you. My house is only five minutes away from the school.”
    “Okay, just let me say this: I’m so sorry I was so rude earlier.”
    “You were rude earlier? I hadn’t noticed.” He liked sarcasm. It fit him. I was beginning to wonder if he had any ounce of truthfulness in him, but then that would mean he lied about painting those amazing pictures and I didn’t want to believe that.