"Where are you?"

"The corner store."

"Ronnie's?" she screeched. "Ara, that's three blocks away. You can walk that."

"I'm scared, Mum. And I'm...I'm wearing heels."

It clicked then. I knew it did. I knew she knew the only reason I'd be wearing heels when I was supposed to be at a sleepover would be if I wasn't at a sleepover.

"Just stay there, Ara-Rose. And by God, child, you are in a world of trouble when we get home." She hung up.

I held the phone for another few seconds, resting my head on the glass, feeling the swirl of alcohol mix in my system with fear, making me want to puke. But when I opened my eyes again, daylight flooded my world; it took a second for my eyes to adjust-to see the dresser mirror on the other side of the room, the yellow walls, the white door and the new morning greeting me. And I could still feel her; still feel her voice in my ears.

I smoothed the covers out on top of me and let the proverbial rock on my chest keep me in place, on my back, unable to breathe.

Downstairs, Dad's burly laughter rose above the clatter of Vicki making breakfast, arguing about something with Sam.

But I was okay.

Slowly, the air came back into my lungs and, breath by breath, the rock lifted, leaving me picturing only one thing: David.

I jumped out of bed and headed straight for the shower, eager to start the brand new day.

Sam burst through the front door. "Ara, David's waiting for you across the road."

My spoon hit the side of my bowl, splashing milk onto the placemat, as I leaped from my chair to peer out the window. David's head whipped up, his eyes meeting mine for a split second when I pulled the sheer curtain back. And I was out of there. I grabbed my bag, leaving my bowl on the table, and ran out the door. In the case of David versus Breakfast, the judge and jury were in; we all knew the verdict.

Outside, the morning sun cast a spotlight on his perfection. I wanted to stop walking and just stand still-gawking at him for a while. But he looked different somehow, than he did yesterday. His mysterious green eyes held a smile in the corners, but the depth of focus in them, when added with his thinly pressed lips, made him look almost uneasy.

"Hi, David."

He took my backpack and threw it over his shoulder, then started walking, without saying a word and without the usual smile.

My brow contorted into a frown. "David?"

"Mm?" he said, but his eyes didn't answer, like they usually did.

"Is...everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He dropped his fingers from the bridge of his nose and looked up, remembering suddenly that I was alive. "Sorry. I have a lot on my mind."

"Oh." I stared forward, wishing I had pockets to shove my hands in so I wouldn't chew my nails. "Anything I can help with?"

"No."

"Maybe I can at least listen? You know, lend an ear."

"If discussing this problem would solve it, then I would. But it won't, so there's little point."

So, he'd taken a leaf out of my book. Suddenly, Mike's threat to either talk to someone or have him do it for me didn't seem so big and scary. In some ways, after sitting with David in my backyard last night, letting the sun set around us, just two friends, holding hands, I'd almost considered telling him what brought me to live here. So many times I even opened my mouth, and while sleeping last night, had, I think, resolved to 'let him in'. But his sudden distance, like someone had flicked the 'reality' switch, made me think all that magic I felt with him was an influx of hormones and, today, the world was back to its usual cold self.

I stole a glance at David; he was walking beside me in physical form, but his mind and spirit were so far away that his eyes had completely fixed on one spot-narrowed with deep concentration. I almost wondered if he was trying to start a fire with telekinesis.

"So...did you...did you get up to anything interesting last night?" I asked.

"Interesting?" he said, kind of confused.

"I just...never mind." I looked away. And he didn't mind. Didn't even bother to engage in small talk.

At the top of the stairs, Emily and Alana talked casually as if they'd been close their whole lives, despite their friendship being only as old as theirs to mine. They didn't really match, as friends. Alana was so plain and almost gothic; she was smart and read books by indie authors, whereas, Emily was so colourful; she always looked fresh and happy, or maybe...overexcited. She must drink coffee every morning-lots of coffee. Mind you, that never worked for me. But despite originating from different ends of the galaxy, they seemed to fit on exactly the same page. Kind of like I thought David and I did-until today.

"Hi, guys." I waved as we reached the top.

"Hey." Emily smiled.

"No cheer practice this morning, Em?"

"Not for me. Had a meeting with the school board."

"Oh, okay," I said. "What for?"

"Benefit concert."

"Cool. So, where's Ryan?"

"Right here." He popped out from behind the glass doors, wearing a wide grin.

"Hey."

"Hey." He gave me a quick hug, then cupped hands with David, who'd managed to wake up enough to appear social all of a sudden.

"So, new girl. You made it through your first week, and-" Ryan scratched the back of his neck and looked at Emily.

"Well, we were thinking," Emily jumped in. "Would you like to come to Betty's Cafe tonight-to celebrate?"

"Is that the little fifties-style cafe?" I asked.

Emily nodded. "Yeah, the pink and blue one."

"It belongs to Emily's aunt." Ryan hooked his thumb in Emily's direction.

"Aunt...Betty?" I raised one brow.

"How'd you guess?" Emily faked surprise, then waved a dismissive hand in the air as she laughed.

"Well-" I looked at David, wondering if he'd go. He placed his guitar case on the ground and rested his hands in his back pockets, then, ever so subtly winked at me. "Uh, sure, you know what?" I looked back at Emily. "That sounds really great." The distraction would be a welcome relief; maybe I could stop thinking about David for a while.

"Okay, it's settled then." Emily bounced on the balls of her feet. "So, we'll carpool?" She looked at Ryan and Alana, then especially at David.

"Um-" I froze, trying to think of a way to say I never went in cars with teenagers. I didn't want to insult their driving ability or have them make the standard enquiry, complete with raised brow.

"Actually." David took a small step forward. "I uh-I was going to ask Ara out tonight." He looked directly at me then. "So, perhaps...I could be your escort?"

My brow folded. He was going to ask me out? What kind of out? Friends? More than friends? Friends who like to hold each other's hand then ignore each other in the morning?

"Oh, a date? Really?" Emily said. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you two had-"

"We're just friends," David said in a very business-like tone.

"So you don't mind sharing her for the night, man?" Ryan asked.

"Not at all." David kind of nodded.

"Yeah, and, um," I chimed in, looking sideways at him, "-and, really, hanging out with you guys'll be great."

"Okay. So, you bring Ara, David, and I'll go with Ryan and Alana." Emily linked her arm through Alana's.

Ryan, all tall and lanky-looking, sighed enviously at Emily, subconsciously imitating the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It was so obvious he liked Alana. I wondered why he hadn't just got with the programme and asked her out. I mean, it was obvious the feelings were mutual.

The routine catch-up at the top of the stairs continued then, without my cerebral focus. They were all smiling and talking, but I couldn't really hear them. My thoughts were off with my troubles, somewhere in clueless land. David wasn't really present, either. He was smiling and talking, too, but kept looking at me with those narrowed eyes-studying me-probably unaware he was even staring. And all my brain could do was worry that he felt he'd made a mistake talking with me that way last night. But I could feel the energy between us, still alive as always, and after praying so hard, every breath of yesterday afternoon, that he'd lean forward and kiss me, I think I grew a little tired of wishing. Yet, despite that, I still kept looking at his lips, imagining it. My feelings had manifested overnight and 'I think I like holding your hand' was not going to do for me. Not long term. Either he had a confession of love buried somewhere in those emerald eyes, or I needed to go to therapy.

David laughed, catching a paper canon, then hurled it up the back of the room where its journey ended on the brow of a football jock. I slinked down lower in my chair; I'd really rather avoid getting a headache from unfinished English homework. It was bad enough that Mr B, with his strict designated seating plan, placed me right up front, right next to David. Not that I minded the David part, I was just kinda worried I might do something to embarrass myself-like drool all over his notebook or start playing footsies with him under the table.

"Morning, class." Mr Benson walked in, oblivious to the origami air-raid going on behind him.

David sat quickly in his seat, playing the good student.

"Faker," I scoffed.

He opened his mouth to speak, then dropped his words with a smile as his hand shot up behind his head. Everyone behind us broke into claps and cheers. "Nice catch, man," one of the jocks called.

"Settle down, class." Mr Benson eyed the room for a second before turning back to write on the board.

Totally and utterly confused, I frowned at David. What the hell was all that about?

He smiled broadly and opened his palm to reveal a paper cannon.

"Did you just catch that behind your head? Without looking?"

He dumped the scrunched up paper onto his desk and leaned closer. "Of course not. I just made it look that way."

"Well, you're a good catch. Er. I mean catcher."

He looked to the front of the class, crossing his arms over his chest, laughing to himself.

I left my lips slightly open as I smiled, because the sweet scent of his cologne brushed pleasantly over my tongue every time he leaned in or spoke. He smelled so fresh, like he'd just stepped out of the shower, still steaming and hot, then sprayed deodorant all over his skin.

"I need everyone to take out their notepads and jot some notes down for..." Mr Benson started, but I lost focus as David leaned down and unzipped his bag. With his body angled that way, one side lengthened, his arm slightly up, stretching forward, his cologne dominated our private little space; I drew a really deep breath, then opened my eyes slowly-meeting with his direct gaze.

"You okay?" He held back a chuckle, placing two pens and two notepads on his desk.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Were you...thinking about ice cream?"

"Ice cream?"

"Yeah." He bit his lip, looking at mine. "You looked like one of those girls off a seductive ice cream commercial."

I flashed him a grin and he sat back, breathing out his laughter.

"Okay." Mr Benson folded his arms, leaning on the front of his desk. "Today, we'll be having a class discussion about..."

Toes in the sand-standing on a beach at sunset, kissing, making everyone who passes jealous...

"Ara?" Mr Benson said. "Perhaps you can answer that question for us?"

"Uh-" I sat up a little. Crap!

David nudged me and held out three fingers under the desk.

"Um-three?" I said.

"That's correct." Mr B turned back to the board. "There were three characters in..."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"Don't mention it." David folded his arms again and kicked his legs out straight in front of him, crossing his ankles. He was wearing those heavy black boots again; I'd seen him in those nearly every day, except yesterday, when we sat on the grass by my swing, talking for hours-our fingers entwined; his cold, like mine, yet warmer than mine. It felt so good, but for such a short time, because as soon as the sun went down, he left. I offered him to stay for dinner, but he said he already had plans. Talk about disappointment.

I wanted to touch his fingers again-to make sure they really felt the way I remembered.

When David's head turned to watch the pacing teacher move around the class, I stared down at his hand, just to gauge the distance. Maybe I could accidentally brush past him or...

"You could at least try to concentrate." He leaned his head a little closer as he spoke, keeping his eyes forward, his arms folded.

How could I concentrate when every time he breathed, I could feel it and hear it? All I wanted was to rest my head against his chest and listen to his heart.

"Ara, stop that," he whispered gruffly.

"Stop what?"

"You...you know that look you get-when you're thinking...things?"

"Mm?"

His lips parted, his eyes sparkling with a grin. "Well, you're...thinking."

"Maybe you shouldn't sit next to me then," I whispered back playfully.