I'd lived my seventeen years in Legend's Run

in an average American four-bedroom house with

my "still married" parents and snotty older sister,

Juliette. I had a decent upbringing in Legend's

Run and didn't have too many complaints about

the town except that it was full of social tension

from being divided into two parts - the affluent

suburbs on the east side and the blue-collar, rural

town on the west. The Eastside was built up with

new developments and rolling estates, while the

Westside, or Riverside, was more agricultural. The

Eastsiders felt their new homes were superior to

the country homes, and the Riversiders resented

that cornfields and silos were giving way to

concrete driveways and street lamps. Each

community had its own elementary schools, but

all the students were combined at middle school.

In high school, each side was reluctant to mix

with the other out of pride, ignorance, or habit.

The two sides were labeled by opposing student

groups as either "snobs" or "hicks," though the

truth was that neither label was entirely accurate.

I smiled at everyone because it was the right

thing to do. In addition, I always believed it took

more energy for the two sides to stay apart than

it would for them to finally come together.

Ivy Hamilton had been my closest friend

since elementary school and lived in an adjacent

subdivision in an estate home twice the size of

mine.

It was my first day of first grade when a

blond girl with a pale blue polka-dotted ribbon

headband boarded the bus. I was sitting alone,

watching the houses go by and wondering who

lived in them, and inventing stories of their grand

lives. Juliette had refused to sit with me and

instead giggled with her friends a few rows back.

The blond girl wore a tiny blue dress and

matching sweater and a sparkling pink bracelet.

The night before, my mom had brushed my

tangled hair. I think I still had puffy eyes from all

my bawling. I'm not sure what I wore, but I know

it wasn't something that was "dry-clean only."

She was the only girl that day to wear a

dress. She walked down the aisle of the bus like a

contestant in a beauty pageant. I noticed the girl

glaring at the boys and other girls. The boys were

too shy to have her sit with them, while the girls

were too jealous.

I was worried she would have to stand the

whole way. When she reached me, I scooted over

and smiled. Her glare turned into a big grin,

accentuated by two dimples. She sat down beside

me. She told me her name was Ivy and said I

should get a dress just like hers so we could be

twins. Even then I knew my mom wouldn't buy

me a million-dollar outfit. When it was time to

board the bus back home, Ivy saved a seat for

me. She gave me her pink sparkly bangle

bracelet. When I said I couldn't accept her gift,

she insisted I take it. "I have five others at

home," she said. I still have the outgrown tiny

bangle in my jewelry box.

As we grew up, Ivy was interested in the

ABC's - accessories, boys, and credit cards. She

continued to be obsessed with fashion just as she

was the first day we met. While she modeled

clothes in dressing-room three-way mirrors for

her mom, I sat cross-legged on the store bench

doodling in my journal. I spent more time

daydreaming and picturing myself in designer

jeans than buying them.

In the eighth grade, Abby Kensington moved

next door, or as I like to say, "next acre," to Ivy.

Ivy and I were swimming in her in-ground

pool when a moving truck pulled in next door. A

girl with a dark ponytail hopped out of the car.

When she saw us, without hesitation she came

right up and said, "Hi, I'm Abby Kensington. I

know we'll be great friends."

I thought it was odd, since she didn't know

a thing about Ivy or me. But it turned out Abby

was right. She inserted herself into our twosome

and we became an inseparable threesome.

Abby was athletic, with olive skin and black

hair that waved like the sea, while Ivy was wiry

and had alabaster skin and blade-straight blond

hair. I fall somewhere in the middle.

At first, I was jealous of the new girl. Since

Abby moved next door to Ivy, I was convinced

they'd hang out together behind my back. They

also shared a passion for designer clothes that I

lacked. Abby was just as interested in scoring

pristine high-end sports gear as she was winning

a game. But Ivy never let anything sever our

relationship.

Another attribute that my friends shared was

accusing me of being too nice because I was

cordial to everyone. Just because students were

from various parts of the community didn't make

us that different, I tried to tell them. We are all

united by the same town and the same school, I

reasoned, but Ivy and Abby preferred to hang out

with Eastsiders. I tell them they aren't outright

snobs but, rather, inward.

Juliette was of the same snooty mold. Two

years older than me, she was cover-girl pretty. I

was always in her shadow. Juliette did her best

to make me a miniversion of herself, but it just

didn't take. She took modeling classes, and as

much as I tried to follow in her footsteps, I

couldn't walk in a straight line even without a

stack of books on my head.

While I ran around with Ivy and Abby,

Juliette always kept company with one of the

many adoring guys pursuing her.

Now that Juliette was a freshman in college,

I was the only young adult in the house. I

received more attention from my parents than

normal and the house was much quieter with her

absence, but I secretly did miss her. She didn't

seem to miss home, though, since she was super

busy dating college guys with Greek letters on

their sweatshirts.

Unfortunately, my love life wasn't as

glamorous as my sister's, until one day when I

was approached by a guy I had had a crush on

since first grade - Nash Hamilton.

Nash, Dylan, and Jake have had consecutive

numbers on their football jerseys for as long as I

can remember. Ivy and Abby had been dating

Jake and Dylan since ninth grade. Since the three

of them were best friends and two of them dated

my best friends, it was always assumed that

Nash and I should be sweethearts. But Nash

always had a girlfriend.

It was at the end of sophomore year when

Nash broke up with Heidi Rosen.

Ivy, Abby, and I were at a football practice

when the team had a break. My friends chatted

with their boyfriends, and I was writing ideas for

future stories in my notebook. I went to the water

fountain, and Nash approached me.

He leaned toward me and asked me out. I

thought I didn't hear him correctly. When he

repeated his request for a date, I almost laughed.

"No," I said, and walked away.

"Hey, come back."

It was then, I think, he really noticed me. Not

as one of the popular girls, but as someone who

was different. I don't think a girl had ever said no

to him before. And I know he never chased after

one.

I really thought it was a joke. Nash was

known for pranks around school - gum on

chairs, funny sayings on blackboards, sticking

naughty pictures in textbooks - and I'd yet to be

picked as his victim. I was sure that at any

moment the school photographer was going to

jump out from the bleachers and claim he'd

captured the whole thing on video.

But more than that, I wondered why a

hotshot like him would want to go out with me.

Ivy and Abby hung by the bleachers with a

"What are you doing?" look on their faces.

I realized, then, that Nash wasn't kidding. It

wasn't a prank, a hoax, or a hazing. Nash

Hamilton was really asking me out.

Nash was a great catch - literally. He was

the star running back on the football team.

I stopped in my tracks, and he came over to

me with a surprised expression.

"Where are you running off to?" he asked.

"Uh... to look at my calendar," I said

flippantly.

A smile crept across his face. He knew he'd

met a challenge as big as competing against a

10-and-0 team.

"I may already have commitments," I said.

"What could be more important than a date

with me?" he said seductively.

It was hard to resist him. He was very

charming and charismatic. I did my best not to

fold or quickly kiss up to him.

"I can think of a few things, but not many," I

teased.

"Volunteering at a nursing home?" he

wondered. "I've heard you are quite the

humanitarian."

I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or

sincere.

"In fact, yes," I said defiantly, and continued

on.

"Hey, wait a minute," he said, stopping in

front of me. "Then what about Saturday?"

I liked his tenacity, but I'd have been a fool

to keep pushing him away.

"I'll cancel my plans," I said, knowing I

wasn't busy.

"Good," he finally said. "Then mark my name

in bold letters for Saturday night."

My stomach filled with butterflies. I caught

up to my friends, who cheered and jumped higher

than two caffeinated cheerleaders. Not only were

we a threesome, we could be a sixsome.

I was as stunned as I was excited.

My sister was the one who always had the

doorbell ringing for her. Now it was finally my

turn.

Nash and I spent our first date at one of his

football practices. My friends and I watched from

the bleachers as the jocks did push-ups and

sprints and caught passes. It wasn't as intimate

and "get to know you" as I thought a first date

would be. Since then, most of our dates had been

spent with me on the sidelines, except for the

occasional times he drove me home.

While I spent the games jotting down ideas

for stories I hoped to write, Ivy primped for Jake,

and Abby jumped on the bleachers cheering for

Dylan.

For some reason - or many - Nash and I

didn't click together as easily as our

counterparts. But I enjoyed the time we did share

together. At day's end, though, when I shut down

my computer, I often gazed out my bedroom

window and up at the moon and wondered if, like

my friends, I'd ever find true love.

When a new student first arrived at Legend's

Run High, their entrance didn't go unnoticed.

Though everyone at Legend's Run High didn't

hang out together, we all knew one another. It

was odd to see a strange face.

It was late October, just after the campfire

and werewolf-scare outing, and I was taking

notes in government class when something

caught my attention. Outside our classroom

window, I saw an olive green beat-up Jeep pulling

into an empty space in the student parking lot. I

had to squint but noticed a WWF sticker on the

front bumper. The driver-side door opened and a

guy got out, wearing a vintage brown leather

motorcycle jacket, torn jeans, and black hiking

boots. He walked into the school building. A few

moments later, the bell rang to change classes.

When I arrived at English class, I found my

desk occupied. The guy in the vintage leather

jacket was riffling through his backpack and

placing a notebook on my desktop. In Mrs.

Clark's class the students weren't seated in

alphabetical order, or any other order for that

matter, but rather we elected to take a desk

where we wanted. Since school began, I sat in

row six, first chair from the window. Abby sat

next to me and Ivy next to her. Their boyfriends

and Nash sat along the row nearest to the door.

When I noticed the stranger sitting in my

seat, I didn't know what to do. I preferred to sit

by my friends, but he was a new student and I

wasn't about to tell him to move - I just didn't

think it was polite. Instead, I chose an empty

chair in the back.

Ivy spotted the stranger sitting in my seat

and took it upon herself to confront the situation.

"That's okay - " I tried to say, but my words

weren't heard.

"Excuse me, that desk is already taken," she

said abrasively. Ivy got very territorial when it

came to breaking up our clique. But it was okay

with me. I could survive a day sitting on my own.

The new guy opened his notebook and

looked up at the blond girl hovering over him,

scolding him as if she were the teacher. I was

hoping Ivy wasn't going to make a fuss. The new

student would probably have moved had she been

polite, but it seemed as if it was too late.

I hid behind my textbook. For a moment Ivy

wasn't as confident as she was when she first

approached him. I hoped this meant she was

going to soften and either apologize or just return

to her seat.

Instead, Abby joined her. Even though Ivy

and Abby were pretty, their temperaments could

sometimes leave even the kindest gentlemen

challenging them to a duel rather than tipping

their hats. Ivy threw her hair back and

straightened her stance.

"This is my friend's desk," Ivy said, again in

a very unpleasant tone. "She sits here every day."

The new guy didn't budge. He paused,

weighing his words. "Are you two on the

welcoming committee?" he asked. "I didn't see

your pictures in the brochure."

A few skater students around him snickered.

I couldn't help but giggle, too.

Abby tightened her lips. After all, she was

used to competition, and it appeared that she

wanted to win this battle.

"I understand you are new..." Abby charged,

in a strong whisper, "but things work a certain

way here, and the sooner you know this the

easier it will be for you."

He sat up and leaned into Ivy. "This is your

friend?" he said to her. "You might want to

reconsider."

We all laughed again, even Dylan and Jake,

who probably wished they could have said it.

Abby and Ivy both folded their arms. It was clear

the new student wasn't going to budge under the

pressure of his two bossy classmates.

"No, that is our friend," they said in unison.

Then they both pointed to me.

The new guy turned around. He was

completely captivating and model gorgeous. His

short hair was dark and wavy, his face as

perfectly sculpted as I'd ever seen. He stared

straight at me - his eyes a deep, riveting royal

blue. We locked gazes and I almost lost my

breath. My face flushed red. I was unable to look

away, and I didn't really want to.

I'd never felt such a powerful stare - or

witnessed such a handsome student.

He almost broke a smile, and my heart along

with it.

The new student turned back, grabbed his

notebook and backpack, and rose. He towered

over my friends, who were blocking his way. They

stepped aside, and he moved to an empty chair in

the back of the class without another word.

As Ivy and Abby waved me over, I slunk back

to my desk. When Mrs. Clark introduced the new

student as Brandon Maddox, I wasn't about to

turn around and make eye contact with him

again.

Legend's Run High School's lunchroom was

a microcosm of Legend's Run itself. Students

stuck to their sides and, like religious sects, were

subdivided. The usual gamers, jocks, skaters, and

preps each had their own table.

Lunch, for me, was the highlight of the

school day. I got to hang out with my friends and

talk and eat - two of my favorite things.

When I reached the cafeteria, Ivy pulled Abby

and me over to the vending machine.

"I finally have the four-one-one on the new

guy," she began. "I heard he's a Westsider."

"Obviously," Abby said. "Did you see his

coat?"

"There was nothing wrong with his coat. I

liked it - " I tried. "Besides, you didn't have to - "

"Do you two want to hear this or not?" Ivy

asked.

"Of course we do," Abby replied.

"He lives with his grandparents," Ivy began.

"I think he's from Miller's Glen and was kicked

out of his home. He's a juvie - "

"I heard he's a runaway," Abby said, placing

a dollar into the machine.

"You did?" Ivy felt challenged that she

wasn't on top of the breaking news story.

"Yes. A runaway," Abby said. She pushed a

cola button and grabbed her diet soda.

"I heard he's a juvie," Ivy argued.

"I heard he's a runaway," Abby insisted.

"I heard..." I started.

"Yes?" they asked curiously.

"I heard that he's..."

"Go on..." they pried.

"I heard that he's a... werewolf!"

They both were aghast. "You did not!"

"That can't be true," Abby said. "I didn't

hear that."

"Who told you that?" Ivy pressed.

I snickered. "Hello, are you kidding?"

Then we all broke out in laughter.

As we continued to crack up, I spotted

Brandon sitting at a back table in the corner,

alone. He was eating a sandwich and reading a

book. The tables around him were filled, crowded

with students gabbing and letting loose on their

lunch break. This might have been my favorite

part of the day, but for him, it must have been

the most lonesome. My giggling subsided. I felt a

huge ache in the pit of my stomach. It must be

horribly lonely and difficult to come to a new

school with no real friends - especially a school

as cliquey as ours. And I felt ashamed that my

two friends had been so unwelcoming.

I thought about going over to him and

apologizing for my friends' behavior when two

strong arms wrapped around my waist.

Suddenly I was lifted off the ground and

swung around. I noticed a familiar class ring.

"Nash! Get off," I cried.

"What are you staring at?" he questioned,

letting me down. "You should be staring at me."

He spun me so I faced him and he kissed

me. Nash was a great kisser; for a brief moment I

forgot where I was. But then it dawned on me. I

wasn't in the privacy of a moonlit goodnight kiss,

but rather I was in the middle of the lunchroom

with two hundred hungry gawkers.

I was never comfortable with Nash's public

displays of affection. It always felt as if he was

only being demonstrative to prove his bravado to

the student body rather than showing the

unbridled passion of an amorous boyfriend.

He released me. I was dizzy - not so much

from the kiss but from his spinning me. When my

double vision returned to normal, I realized I was

staring right across the lunchroom at Brandon. I

sensed he'd been watching me the whole time.

There was something riveting about him,

unusual, and different. I wasn't sure why I felt

embarrassed in front of Brandon more so than the

other students watching us. All I knew was that I

did. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, sat down

at our table with my back toward the new

student, and distracted myself with a low-carb

lunch and wonderfully insane conversation.

i know guys ths ch was toooo long but the next wil be

Exciting i gaurantee