"Ch-Chad?" I stutter. "What are you doing here?" "I was just taking a walk on the beach," he replies evasively. I brush off his vague response and try to focus on keeping my cool. But it's hard when the boy you dreamed about for months is standing before you, concern lacing his features. "Are you all right?" he asks. Hurriedly I wipe my eyes and stand up, brushing sand from my clothes and forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." "What are you doing here?" Chad asks. "Lisa told me you moved." "I did," I reply. "We're just here for the summer."

He smiles and moves closer to me. He touches my cheek and runs his hand through my hair. My knees go weak at his touch. A million emotions sweep through me as I remember that long-ago summer, before Daddy died and before I was diagnosed with depression.

*Flashback*

"Alex!" Chad calls through the rain. "Alex, what is it? Why won't you tell me? Do you not trust me?" His words only make me cry harder. I can't do this. I can't pull him into this. He doesn't deserve me. I whip around and catch his chin with my hand. Looking into those beautiful brown eyes, eyes I've come to love this past summer, I say, "Chad, dragging you into this  won't help you or me. You don't want to be involved with me. I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this to yourself. Go away, Chad, and don't ever come back. Leave me alone." His face changes from shocked to angry to hurt. Lowering his eyes, he slowly shuffles away. I sit on my porch step in the pouring rain, crying, as my whole world walks out of my life.

*End Flashback*

I remember how we laughed and played and pushed through everything together. In a way, moving away from Chad was a blessing and a curse at the same time. I longed for the feel of his lips on mine, but at least then I didn't have to worry about avoiding him.

Chad pulls me from my thoughts with a single sentence. "I know things between us are a little rocky, but we can try again, can't we?" I gulp at the temptation of his offer. My heart burns with desire. My gaze drifts down to his pink, plump, and perfectly kissable lips. All I want to do is raise up on my feet a little and touch my lips to his. Shutting my eyes against the pain of his trust in me, I turn away. I don't need complications like Chad Wilkins in my life.

Long ago, before I met Chad and before I was diagnosed with clinical depression, I was Mobile's biggest player. I slept with a different boy each night, and I loved watching them chase me, only to be heartbroken in the end. When Chad entered my life, I thought he was no different. I met him at a party and took him home to get dirty like every other boy. But when I swooped in for the kill, he told me no. He actually refused me, the town's greatest hooker. At first, I was angry. I sent him away, saying I wasn't going to waste my time on him.

But the next day, a note appeared on my dresser. It said, "Alex, I admire your spunk and confidence. But I didn't approach you to have sex and be dumped like a hot potato. I really like you, Alex. I don't think you're a hooker at heart. If I did, I never would have bothered with you." I pondered that note for days and days until one day, Chad appeared on my doorstep. He gave a huge bouquet of roses, my favorite flower. I found the gesture sweet, and I went to his house and played Monopoly with him that afternoon. We talked and talked, and before long we knew everything about each other. I'd never felt so wanted, so needed, as I felt when I was with Chad.

He amazed me with his effortless charm and obvious affection for me. Over the summer, I grew to love his corny pick-up lines and sarcastic responses. After we'd played Monopoly that day, we went down to the beach and played in the sand. By the end of the day, I found myself falling for him. We saw each other every day. We went on dates and did some wild and fun stuff, like parasailing, skydiving, and zip lining. He brought out the side of me that liked to have fun and be scared half to death.

We grew closer and closer over summer and it was by far the best summer of my life. But, all good things must come to an end. Nearing the end of summer, I started falling, for the very first time, into the pit of depression. I was irritable and shoved Chad away from me. I had crying breakdowns in the middle of our dates, which was very embarrassing. Finally, Mom took me to the doctor to get diagnosed. When we found out the truth, I was mortified. I didn't want to take meds, and the idea of going to a shrink repelled me, so, against the doctor's and Mom's advice, I did nothing. I didn't tell Chad about the diagnosis, even though he already knew something was wrong. At about the same time, I started cutting.

My secret went unnoticed by Chad for a few weeks until one balmy August morning. Chad and I were going to the beach. I'd rubbed concealer all over my arms so that I could show off my new bikini. But when we went in the water, I forgot to put a hoodie on. The concealer came off in the water, exposing the red cuts. On our way back to our lounge chairs, Chad asked about them.

I was too caught off guard to come up with a good lie to feed him. So I just stood there, clutching my arms to my sides, looking like a deer trapped in the headlights. I mumbled, "Nothing," and ran off. It started to pour as I ran. Chad caught up with me, grabbing my arms to inspect them. I pulled away from him and pulled on my hoodie. He yelled for me, asking all sorts of things. I knew I had to get him out of my life before he learned something I didn't want him to learn. So I ordered him away and he obeyed. I flung myself on the porch step and cried, but I would've cried harder if I'd known that that was the last time I'd see him for two years.

AN: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I know, I know! But trust me, if you think you hate me for this chapter, just wait until the next one....Anyways, vote comment and that stuffs.

All my love,

Em