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 inane conversation.