.Chapter 1.

This chapter is dedicated to @1D_Iggy_Miley_Me

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"Bye, see you after the weekend," I said, my cheeks hurting from smiling throughout the day. The desperate girls never seemed to leave me alone!

Some would ask me to take them shopping, some would ask me to help them win a guy over (seriously, do I look like a cupid to you?), some would offer to carry my books, while some would just follow me mindlessly wherever I went. Their help was appreciated sometimes, but the reason behind all this was that they just wanted to raise their social status bar (I can see right through you, duh!).

"But Chris-" began one of the girls whose name I had already forgotten.

"Later, honey," I said, mentally thanking sweet words. It would have been awkward if I had fumbled with her name. "I need to get going, sorry."

"That's okay, I understand," she smiled sweetly. Fake.

I pulled her into a quick hug to compensate for my short-term memory loss, but she seemed to think otherwise. "How about we go dress-shopping tomorr-"

"Bye," I said hastily cutting her off, and left to join the people who really were my friends. "What?" I asked them as they started to giggle after seeing me.

"Nothing," Courtney said immediately, pulling a straight face.

"Don't lie, Court," I said, looking at her with a pout.

"Damn girl, you make it so hard to say no to you," she scowled after a minute. I cheered, punching my fist in the air.

"Spill."

"Fine," she sighed, and then a sly smile appeared on her face. "Julian asked if you were free Sunday evening."

"What?" I asked her disbelievingly my mind already muddled. I didn't realize I was clenching my fists till the point when my nails began to bite too much into my skin. "And what did you tell him?"

"We told him that we don't know," answered Sara in a small voice, knowing that I could have an outburst any moment now.

"And right you did. Cause I'm not going anywhere with him," I said through gritted teeth, trying to control my anger.

"We understand Chris: it all took place just a month ago. But just reject him kindly. Don't lash out at him."

I took a deep breath. "No, you are right. I must control my temper."

They nodded in unison, and then left, saying their goodbyes. I started walking towards my black BMW 6 Convertible which was standing elegantly in the middle of the parking lot; I was thinking about what the girls were saying earlier.

I could not be angry. I could not be upset . . . Or could I?

I had given him everything I could. Friendship. Time. Compromises. And love.

But he pushed it all away for something else-he did something horrible to me. A thing which he could not take back even if we both wished. I could never forgive him for what he had done.

One night. That one night changed everything; it destroyed our one-year long relationship in the blink of an eye. It is not a piece of cake to maintain a relationship which was as serious as ours was, for a year. He proved that and undid it all; as though all of those kisses and hugs and cuddling meant nothing to him. As though the opening up to each other, earning each other's trust, all those cute dates, the time I spent with his family, bonding with them, getting to know them, camping out with them was nothing. Like it was too good to be true.

Well, it was too good to be true, my conscience mocked at me. But I couldn't help but agree with it.

All good things don't last. This one didn't.

That son of a bitch went and ruined it all. But somewhere, deep in my heart, I knew that I still felt something for the guy who made me feel so safe whenever I was with him. Whose presence made my stomach all jittery, whose kisses made me feel as though I had no legs.

Just thinking about him surged tears in my eyes and I brushed them away furiously: I didn't want anyone to see me in this state.

I quickly slid into my car and drove out of the school to the next street. I just entered any random street, and finally came to a stop in a dark alley, where there was no one but me.

And then I cried. I just cried.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Forgive and forget what he did to me, or hold a strong grudge against him. Whatever his folly was, could I let it overpower all the good times I had with him? Was it that big that I could forget all good things he gave me?

I couldn't forget how he let me hold onto him so tightly during his mom's pageant, that I almost stopped the blood circulation of his arm. I gave out a choked laugh when I remembered how his mom had forced us to take part in the pageant, and how we had pulled an annoyed face.

I couldn't forget our first date-he had taken me to a nearby hill. We weren't dating just then. We had had dinner on a picnic mat, and then he said that he had brought ice cream. But when he opened the cartons, all that I could see was chocolate milkshake.

--

"Oh no!" I gasped as I looked at the now melted mess in front of me.

"Shit," Julian said frantically. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine," I giggled. I knew that laughing was mean, but he looked so cute when he was embarrassed. "We'll just assume that you brought us chocolate milkshake."

"Okay," he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously."I'll bring the ice cr-sorry, milkshakes. You just follow me."

I nodded, biting my lip curiously as to where he was taking me. He walked up to a big stone which I had never seen up till now.

"C'mere," he said extending his hand and helping me up the steep slope of the stone. "Take this," he handed me the melted ice cream.

"Thanks," I whispered. He jerked his head to the right, motioning me to follow his eyes. I turned my head and gasped

"It's beautiful!"

The entire city could be seen like a picture painted on a canvas, and it felt as though we were watching all the lighting from the sky; not from a hill.

"I'm glad you liked it."

"It's like we are the stars," I said, awed. "Isn't it-what?" I caught him staring at me.

"You have some milkshake on your face," he smiled. I wiped my mouth with the back of my palm. "Is it gone?"

"Um, no. It's on your . . . Wait, why don't I just do it?" And before I could say anything, his thumb brushed gently under the corner of my lip, and he brought it to his mouth to lick it, never breaking eye contact.

"Thanks," I blushed, my voice barely audible. My heart was in a frenzy and my gaze fell on his lips.

"You have some too," I said, and slid my finger at the corner of his lips. Silence spread around us, none of us knowing what to say after that small romantic exchange. And then all of a sudden, millions of fireflies appeared out of nowhere, and I looked into his deep, brown eyes.

"I swear I did not plan this" he whispered, leaning in towards me.

And then he kissed me. "Christine Hawkins, you have no idea how much I like you."

I kissed him back. "I like you too, Julian Sommers."

--

That was one of the best nights of my life, and it felt as though it couldn't get any better. But I was wrong. The best part of the night was when he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Days and days of flirting, playing hard to get, and making him chase me; who knew that I would fall for him so hard. He caught me when I fell, and that's what every girl wants . . . Assurance, that he will not leave you, how much ever deep the fall might be.

I was convinced that I was in love with him. I saw no one else when I was with him.

But I did, when all of that happened.

All that I wanted to do was to keep reminiscing, hiding from the practical world.

Images of that night flashed in my mind, and I tried to block them, sucking in a deep breath and clutching the steering wheel tightly to channelize my anger.

It made me sick. Just thinking about what he did.

I fumbled through my bag, searching for a water bottle as a nauseating feeling passed through me. Uncorking it, I pressed the rim on my lips, and then I lost it.

I couldn't just fucking control my emotions, could I?

"I hate you, Julian Sommers! I fucking hate you so much!" I cried, covering my face with my palms, my whole body shaking with pent up emotions.

The next whole minute, I cried my eyes out, muttering profanities at my ex, until I was rudely interrupted by someone knocking on my window. I rubbed my face and pushed my hair out of my face.

Looking up was a terrible mistake.

"You okay prince-" he caught himself just in time. I almost whimpered when he accidentally called me 'princess', but I refused to show any sign of weakness.

"Yeah," I said roughly, turning my face away from him and moved my hands down my face to remove any traces of tears.

He unlocked the door and motioned me to shift to the adjacent seat, but I refused. He groaned, "Chris, I know that I made a terrible mistake, hell, an unforgivable mistake. But I can't leave you in this state. Stop being stubborn and move aside."

I glared at him and closed my eyes in frustration. For one second back there, I almost thought that he still cared about me.

Don't be stupid, Chris . . . He doesn't.

He sighed in annoyance and before I knew it, I was being pushed aside. I couldn't help but notice that even in this act, Julian was as gentle as ever.

"What are you doing here?" I spat.

He winced after hearing the venom in my voice. "I followed you here."

My eyes fell out of their sockets. "What! And why would you do that?"

"You were crying princ-Chris, and I had a feeling that you were gonna have a breakdown," he looked at me with those soft, brown eyes I had grown to love.

A breakdown because of you . . .

"Since when do you care?" I said bitterly.

He shifted in his seat, and I found myself subconsciously leaning forward.

"I never stopped caring," he said softly, and I looked at him in mild surprise.

"What?"

"I'll always care about you princess." And he didn't even bother to correct himself, leaning slowly towards me. I closed my eyes, my heart racing with fear and anticipation of the kiss.

My brain screamed at me, telling me to stop, but I paid no heed to it until-

"No," I said, turning my face and pushing him away. "I-I-I can't do this. We can't do this. How-how dare you come and kiss me like this, Julian?! Get out of the car, you jerk!" I shouted, shocked at myself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, and quietly got out of the car without further ado.

I groaned and slumped back in my seat, trying to digest that my ex, whom I still probably had feelings for, almost kissed me.

---

"McDonald's or Subway? You pick."

"Anything is fine by me," I said moodily. My best friend sighed and chewed her nails thoughtfully, exchanging a look with my other best friend.

"Chris!" Dan groaned, shaking his head reproachfully. "Stop being like this."

"Yeah, hon. And I'm so sorry for taking a leave from school today. God, I'm such a despicable best friend," she muttered more to herself than to me.

"Yeah, you are," Dan said smugly. "I'm the best."

"You are the best best friend I could as for, Alicia," I assured her, and meant what I had said.

"See? She loves me," Al smiled at Dan. He faltered, because she rarely smiled at him. She scoffed and sneered and smirked, but hardly smiled. Which was understandable, because Dan was a dick to her.

All in all, their bickering worse than Ron and Hermione's.

"Fine," I said loudly, as Dan recovered from the shock and opened his mouth to retort. "McDonald's."

"Yay! C'mon," Dan said, getting up and grabbing his car keys.

"Wait . . ." Alicia said weakly, and we looked at her. Her face had become pale. "I think I'm gonna be sick," she mumbled and made a dash towards the guest bathroom.

Dan sighed and sat down in the chair again. "She's been throwing up the whole day."

"Yeah?" I asked, surprised. That was news to me.

"Mm-hmm. And with Izzy not here . . ." he trailed off and I nodded. Izzy was our housekeeper, but she was on a leave for the weekend due to some family problem. Just then, Dan's phone rang; I had never heard the song before.

"It's Mom," he said, astound. "Why is she calling me? I told her I'll be at your place."

"Take the call," I encouraged.

"Hello? Uh-huh . . . Mom! . . . Ugh, what about my dinner?" He sighed. "Fine. I'll be there as fast as I can. Love you."

I smiled at the 'love you' part.

"I'll be back. It's Edward," he said.

It was no secret that Dan loved his mother and his brother Edward to bits.

"Which song was that?" I asked curiously. It was quite catchy.

"'Kiss My Ass Goodbye' by The Illegitimates," Dan said. "It's some famous boy band, and if you are wondering how I got to know this song, Jessica forced me to listen to it yesterday. The entire time she was fan girling about how hot this lead singer guy, Brandon or something was, and I was like-honey, you're in bed with me, not him."

I stifled a laugh. Jessica was his latest 'fling', and I was truly surprised to find that she was not at all a bimbo, but actually a nice girl. Kind of like a less fierce version of Alicia, but enough to keep Dan from sassing around, if that's even a word.

"His name's Bradon," I corrected him.

"You know him?" Dan questioned, and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't live under a rock, unlike some," I teased.

"Shut up. I'll see you in a few," Dan said, and left the house.

Alicia came out of the bathroom, clutching her stomach. "Save me, Chris," she groaned, extending the syllables over-dramatically, and slumped down on the sofa on her stomach. "I don't think I can come with you guys. You go with Dan. I'll stay here," she slurred the last part; she was very close to falling asleep.

"Okay," I said, not even bothering to tell her that Dan was gone, and was never, ever coming back.

Okay, so that was a bit too much.

And if I did tell her, she would be too drowsy to even register what I was saying. Oh, well.

I thought that maybe I could go and collect our dinner. So I took the car keys, but then thought that maybe I could walk down to the place. After all, I had skipped my jogging today, and plus, today's cheer leading practice had been cancelled, too. So this could be considered as a substitute for all the exercise I had missed.

In this way, I left the house in a considerably cheerful mood than I was before.

Walking down the road, I realized something. We are so lost in the world of gadgets that we don't see the beauty around us.

On the way, I saw a dog sleeping peacefully on the pavement, without a care in the world.

As I passed a nearby park, I saw some children playing happily in the sand pit, and it made my heart clench. I never had a childhood like this.

In my childhood, I used to attend stupid parties hosted by rich people, with me wearing stupid frilly dresses and white gloves. I was taught the proper way to eat at the table, proper use of the knife and fork. One thing which I used to like when I was 13-ish, was horse riding. I would ride and ride for hours, and then come home covered in mud and smelling of hay and horses; occasionally with a piece of hay stuck in my hair.

I smiled nostalgically, and then took out my phone.

Whatever might be the case, you can't live without gadgets.

To: Daniel (haha)

What do you want to eat? I've gone. So don't come searching for me.

Dan hated being called Daniel, so I had purposely saved his name in my contact list as Daniel. How sadistic of me.

From: Dan

I haven't even come home yet, ha! Anyways . . . Chicken nuggets, coke, fries, any burger which has chicken in it, and a McFlurry. Hahaha!!! Lol, that's like, every item off the McDonald's menu card xD

To: Daniel (haha)

Very funny -_- Tell Al that I'll make her some soup when I get home

From: Dan

Ok. She says that she hates you. :')

To: Daniel (haha)

How do you know that if you are not home?

From: Dan

There's this thing called the mobile phone . . . Duh! *_*

To: Daniel (haha)

Right . . . Now BYE!

Typing the last message, I prepared to send it, but I never did. The next thing I knew, I had bumped into someone, resulting into me almost falling on the ground, and him, just being pushed a wee bit behind.

"Watch where you are going, dude," I said, rubbing my shoulder.

"Sorry, it's my fault . . . I was the one who was on the phone," he replied sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and gave him a weird look. The guy was wearing sunglasses, and it was twilight.

Did he have some eye problem? Conjunctivitis, maybe?

Really Chris, it's none of your business.

Even in the dim light and half his face covered with glasses, I could tell that he was a good looking guy. Brown hair, tall, slim, skinny jeans, leather jacket . . .

Gosh, I'm so jealous that he posseses that jacket!

. . . and his Ray Bans completed the perfect supermodel look.

Suddenly, a strong wing blew our way, carrying dust and dirt along with it.

"Shit," he cursed, rubbing his eyes, and I was weirdly thankful that I was standing facing the direction opposite in which the wind was blowing.

"Take those glasses off," I suggested, after seeing him rubbing his eyes under the glasses for quite some time.

And why was I even standing there?

"Um, no."

"You're making your eyes dry and sore," I insisted.

Just fucking leave Christine Hawkins.

"Alright," he said finally. "But promise me you won't tell anyone who I am."

"Tell anyone what? It's not like you're a celebrity or something," I restrained myself from sneering.

"I am, actually," he smirked.

I clicked my tongue impatiently. "Just tell me fast, I have to be somewhere."

"Then go."

"I've spent my last five minutes talking to a stranger like you, listening to your rubbish, and you expect me to just leave without seeing your face?" I said, rolling my eyes in annoyance. "Just drop the act. I need a closure.

"Fine," he sighed, and took off his glasses with a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Hi," he said, and my eyes popped out of their sockets.

That brown black hair owner, whose jacket I had been fan girling on, who was tall and slim and exceeding handsome, whom I had called supermodel handsome-I've seen real, live supermodels, so yeah. I have the right to compare . . .

Yeah yeah, Chris. We get the idea.

. . . was Bradon Evans

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Thanks for reading! I just want to tell you that 'The Illegitimates' is just a fragment of my imagination. There is no such group that I have knowledge of, and if there is, it's pure coincidence.

Chris on the side bar >>>

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-Crazy