"It's time to begin, isn't it?
I get a little bit bigger but then I'll admit
I'm just the same as I was
Now don't you understand
That I'm never changing who I am."
—It's Time by Imagine Dragons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

| KENZIE |

It took all of my willpower not to yell in front of Lance both for the sake of the whole class and to also not get myself detention.

My eyes widened while gaping at him. It was the first day of school, I remembered. How dare he say something like that to me! I was wrong to let my guard down! This guy was so full of himself! Lance was good-looking, but he was definitely not my type. And I reminded myself I wouldn't do dating anymore because of my philophobia. He'd also said he wasn't interested in dating, so why...?

I was interrupted from my thoughts when I heard Lance chuckling uncontrollably. He was covering his mouth with his hands, making him look like a patient from a mental hospital. My jaw snapped shut, and I glared at him. "What the heck?"

"Wait, please give me a moment." Lance sniffed, wiping the tears from the corner of his brown eyes. "Okay. Thank you. You should have seen the look on your face," he said, ignoring my evil glare. "Anyway, I assure you that I was just kidding. And besides, even if I was not an aromantic, you're not my type. I mean, you are short--"

"For your information," I huffed indignantly, "I'm five feet tall; that's already average. And aromantic?" I asked curiously, not minding the current issue for the meantime. "What's that?"

"A person who does not experience romantic love or attraction toward anyone," he explained with pride.

My eyes widened. "Er, really? There's such a thing?"

"Yes."

"And you believe you're an aromantic because you don't feel romantic attraction toward others?"

"Yes."

Wow! I must admit that was amazing. I mean, you wouldn't get to experience falling in love and not be scared to get your heart broken because of stupid romantic love. But still, I countered, "But what if you just haven't met the girl of your dreams yet?"

Lance smirked. "You want to be the girl of my dreams, then?"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. This guy had nerve to say stuff like that. Yes, Lance had this "formal" aura around him (even the way he talks was so formal, like we were in a magical kingdom and he was the prince), but I couldn't believe he had this kind of personality, too.

Well, like other people say: Don't judge a person by their looks.

There was also his aromantic orientation.

And those were the reasons why I became curious about Lance Collins.

"Gah! You're impossible. And I assure you that the feeling's mutual," I said in a clipped tone. "Now, can you please spill what's your real bet?"

Lance shrugged. "Glad we have an understanding. Okay, here is my real bet: bake me a chocolate cake."

I blinked, not expecting what he'd said. "Er, come again?"

Then I suddenly remembered him. He was the main reason why I'd wanted to learn baking in the first place, and I'd turned out to be very good at it.

Chocolate cake was my ex-boyfriend's favorite!

I couldn't help cursing like a sailor in my mind.

Lance shook me out of my reverie and brought me back to the moment.

"First, you space out most of the time. Second, you have trouble in hearing. Perfect combination. I said, bake me a chocolate cake," he told me, unaware of my inner struggling. "But if you fail at baking, I will just think of another one."

I didn't want to lie that I didn't know how to bake. And telling Lance I knew how to bake but didn't want to do it because it reminded me so much of my ex-boyfriend was so not in the option.

But Rachel had said that moving on required to face your fears. Well, for me, half of my fears anyway. Not all of it. That required time.

So to help myself (hopefully), I made my decision. Ignoring Lance's stupid statements, I said, "I don't fail at baking; I excel at it, actually, so I accept your bet." I paused and couldn't help asking, "But why a chocolate cake?"

"Isn't it obvious? Because I love chocolate cakes," he replied with a cheeky grin.

I instantly froze, and the insides of my stomach were churning uncomfortably. Why had I even asked that? Now my problem got a bajillion times worse!

I now totally understood the meaning of "curiosity killed the cat."

Those had also been the exact words my ex-boyfriend said after I'd asked him that question.

Why had I agreed again? Oh, right. To prove to myself, to Rachel, and to my family that I was really moving on. But there was still a part inside me to ace that test so that I wouldn't have to bake a cake and hurt my heart.

Heck, even when I wasn't baking, it was still hurting my heart.

My stupid, fragile heart.

Okay, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die now.

I started when Lance put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked at him and saw he was kind of worried.

"Why are you scared?" he asked me directly.

Had I been that obvious? "I do-don't know what you're talking about. Heh," I answered, stuttering slightly.

Lance was surely not convinced. "Do not lie, Mackenzie, because after I said--"

He definitely didn't need to repeat that. "It's nothing, okay?" I snapped.

As I realized what I'd done, I quickly looked at the front, but didn't see Ms. Herron, and most of my classmates were now filing out of the classroom. No one other than Lance had witnessed my little outburst.

Yes, little outburst.

"Ms. Herron dismissed us early," he said as he withdrew his hand from my shoulder, and I suddenly felt guilty. I hadn't really meant to snap at him like that; I just got carried away. "Said she still has an important faculty meeting to attend to."

I blew out a shaky breath. "Look, I'm sorry. I just..." I faltered, unsure of what I should tell him next.

Lance smiled slightly. "It's all right. No harm done. Though I should be the one who should say sorry because I said something wrong to you. I am sorry, Mackenzie," he apologized. "But you don't have anything against chocolate cakes, I hope."

"No, you don't have to. It really was my fault," I said sincerely, looked at my watch, then turned to leave, since I had to go somewhere important. "And no, I don't have anything against them. But I have to go now. Bye."

With that, I swiftly went to Rachel, and we left the classroom together, but not before I glanced back at Lance--confusion clearly shown on his face as he gazed at my disappearing figure.

🎹 🎹 🎹

I had been homeschooled or tutored on sets since fourth grade because of my early career. That's why I'd missed being in an ordinary school.

If you could call Weyral High an ordinary school, that is.

I was the only child of Gilbert Adams, a well-known mechanical engineer in Denver, and Erina Adams, a former certified public accountant. My mother had quit her job to accompany me in my career.

When I was seven years old, I'd decided I wanted to be an actress. That's why I'd persuaded my parents to enroll me to acting classes and, eventually, an agent had taken me.

It had been a dream come true and a personal milestone for me.

But even with my successful career, I still wanted to take the Civil Engineering course at Stanford University for college. I really, really wanted to. I mean, Stanford was a great university, and I loved numbers, just like my parents.

And most importantly: I wanted to experience and graduate from college.

Do I consider myself a math geek? I think not.

I wasn't a spoiled brat and didn't use a mask to show to the world, unlike some celebrities. I was true to everyone. Of course, my parents had raised me well. That's why I was very thankful to them.

The only thing I was hiding to the world was my heartache, and only a few souls knew about it. I didn't want to make a big fuss about that topic and had only told the media that I'd broken up with my almost-one-year boyfriend because "it didn't work out." Just that, not the whole story behind it.

Who wants to share with the public the reasons about break-ups, anyway? It would just add more drama, right?

Right.

When I arrived home, I greeted my lovely mother who was cooking in the kitchen and kissed her cheek. I inherited my blonde hair from her, and then the green eyes from my dad.

"How was your first day, Grace?" my mom asked.

Only my parents and cousins call me by my second name. Sometimes, they call me "Gracie," which I think is cute.

"Bearable, thanks to Rachel. We're not classmates in the other subjects, but I think I'll live," I answered with a smile, then took a sniff. "Oooh, I smell my favorite!"

Mom winked. "Yep. Chicken curry to celebrate your first day of school again after many years."

I hugged her. "Awww. Thanks, Mom! Love ya! Is Dad still at work?"

She laughed. "Love you more. But you're still doing the dishes later, young lady. And yes, he's still at work; he'll be home before eight o'clock."

I grinned, ending the hug. "No problem."

"So, Gracie, tell me the details."

I tilted my head to the side questioningly. "What details?"

Mom's eyes were sparkling, and I now had an idea on what she'd ask: Boys.

"Oh, you know. Boys."

How right I was.

Rolling my eyes, I chided, "Mom!" I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with my mother.

Again.

She's nagged me with "Is someone courting you now?" so many times that I couldn't keep count anymore, and I'd always reply "no" while matching Grumpy Cat's expression and showing the cat's face to Mom on my phone, which I was currently doing right now.

"Come on, Gracie," said Mom exasperatedly as I pocketed my iPhone. "Your 'Do Not Trust a Boy Again' rule after what happened to you eight months ago isn't forever. I'm sure there's gonna be a guy someday who will heal your broken heart and love you forever. I want to mention J.P. Gallagher, your love interest in the movie The Ring of Truth. Did he court you when he found out you were recently single?"

Mom was beaming when she asked that, which was bad. I had trust issues regarding boys since then, except for the guys who I'd worked with in the movies.

"Mom, J.P. and I are just best friends!" I stated matter-of-factly, even though she already knew this.

She giggled. "I'm just saying. Look at your flushed face!"

"Sometimes, I think that Chel and I were switched at birth," I told her with a scowl.

"Don't worry, Grace. That didn't happen," Mom promised as she went back stirring the food in the pot.

"Say, Mom, do you know a person named Lance Collins?" I suddenly asked with interest as I sat on the stool next to the marble counter, drumming my fingers on it.

She thought for a moment. "Of course. He's the teenage violinist who won an international competition five months ago. His name and face have appeared many times on the newspapers and television news." Mom paused. "Hey, he's also a student of Weyral, right?"

That was expected. "Ah. Thanks. Yes."

Mom gave me a mischievous look, which made me raise an eyebrow at her. "Why do you inquire, Grace?" she slyly asked. "Is he the one?"

I made a disgusted face, exclaiming, "No! We're just classmates in homeroom, chemistry and trigonometry." I didn't want to reveal we were also seatmates in those classes. I didn't need more teasing moments from her. "That guy's so full of himself, Mom, I tell you. And I find him weird; he said he's an aromantic--a person who experiences no romantic attraction toward others. I mean, is that really possible?"

"'Aromantic'? Big word." Mom smiled. "I think it is possible, Grace. Well, since he's an aromantic," she said, "then maybe if you get along with him, he can help make romantic things not interesting for you anymore. There's no reason not to trust and be friends with him, right? I think you'll be safe with him."

I paused, contemplating what she'd said. "Maybe."

Mom gave me another look, and I rolled my eyes again. "What now, Mom?"

She feigned innocence. "Oh, nothing, Grace. You better go to your room now and change from your lovely school uniform. I'll call you when dinner's ready."

🎹 🎹 🎹

After taking a shower, changing to T-shirt and basketball shorts, eating dinner with my parents while talking about my first day of school, and then washing the dishes, I called Rachel using my phone at my room's balcony. I rested my elbows on the railing.

"What's up, bestie?" she began on the other line.

"The stars," I replied as I looked up with a soft smile. The stars could be seen clearly here in Denver rather than in Los Angeles.

I could feel my best friend was rolling her eyes, and I laughed. But my laughter stopped when Rachel suddenly said, "The Fault in Our Stars."

I became still as a dead tree.

"Need I remind you what happened to your favorite Augustus Waters, Kenzie?" she continued, and I could imagine she was smirking.

I remained quiet, remembering what had happened to Gus. She'd even emphasized his name because she knew he reminded me of someone: my first crush! But my first crush didn't you know, mind you. Maybe that's why Gus had a big impact in my heart.

It was her turn to laugh. "Oopsie!" she said in mock surprise.

I glared at the peaceful scenery before me. "Why're you evil sometimes, Chel?"

"Why're you also evil sometimes, Kenzie?" she retaliated.

"Touché," I responded, then we guffawed together.

"John Green is one of the famous murderers," Rachel said while giggling. "But still, we love him."

"I know, right?" I agreed, grinning. "Anyway, um, what do you think of Lance Collins?"

"Hmmm, I think he's nice, funny and handsome," she answered after a moment. "Did you notice how perfect his jawline is? And he has many fans around the world. I remember he and Gabriel Vole, the Paganini of Eldreez Point, are great friends." Rachel paused, and I had a bad feeling about it all of a sudden. "First day of school and you're already checking up on a guy? I'm so proud of you to the max, Kenzie! You really are moving on! I wanna cry because of this happiness I'm feeling inside!" Then she started singing the chorus of "Let It Go" from Frozen.

"No! You got it wrong, Chel!" I shouted to make her stop. Not because she had an awful singing voice. (In fact, Rachel's singing voice could get her into Broadway, but don't tell her I said that because, you know, her ego.) But because I didn't want her to get the wrong idea about Lance and me.

I mean, Lance. Not with me.

But me, too.

But not us together.

But...what was I saying?

Oh, right, I'm trying to get Rachel to shut up.

But she continued nonetheless.

"I'm never going back,
the past is in the pa--"

Thankfully, I knew how to really make her stop. "Rachel May Simpson!" I yelled. She hates it whenever someone calls her by her full name, even when it's done by her best friend.

"Don't shout!" Rachel yelled back hypocritically, then I heard her sigh in defeat. "Okay. Fine. Why'd you ask, anyway?"

"I'm just curious about him, that's all. And he said he's an aromantic." I paused. "You do know what an aromantic is, right?"

"Well, duh! FYI, aromantic people can still date but with no romance involved," Rachel stated. "Wait, he's an aromantic? Really? I thought it was just a rumor when I heard 'bout it from some of the students earlier. But now it's been proven...I still can't believe it! Though some think Lance's just secretly gay. That's why he isn't interested in women. But I believe that's only a rumor." Then she started singing the chorus of Adele's "Rumor Has It." I guess Rachel had eaten too many Nerds, her all-time favorite candy that acts as her coffee.

I didn't share with her that I hadn't known what the meaning of aromantic was before. "I don't believe that rumor, either. Well, according to him, yes, he's an aromantic. And, er, I find him intriguing--with how his brain works and all. I guess being friends with him wouldn't hurt, even with his teasing personality. I mean, we're seatmates in three sub--"

Rachel suddenly screamed, causing me to pull my phone away from my left ear. It wasn't an angry scream, though. Still, I couldn't describe it.

Alarmed, I asked her after she'd stopped screaming, "Chel, what happened? You all right? Is there a burglar or a flying cockroach or something?" My eyes widened, guessing my worst thought. "Wait, did your mom just give you a fish?"

Rachel feared fishes since second grade. It was a long story, and she didn't want to share it with anyone else, believing that if her rivals got hold of that extreme confidential file, they'd use it against her. Only her family and I knew about it.

"No! I'm just happy 'cause you wanna be friends with a guy again!" responded Rachel happily, and I could imagine she was jumping up and down like a little girl who just received her newest Barbie doll. "And please don't mention to me that blasphemous word ever again!"

I held my tongue from saying "fish" over and over again. Rachel would definitely have a fishy nightmare later if I did that. Not that I'd regret it. "Don't let it go to your head! I'm just curious about him, remember?" I didn't say anything about my conversation with Lance in Ms. Herron's class earlier. I wasn't ready yet to share it with her. I'd do it tomorrow after school.

I remembered the feeling of guilt I'd had after leaving Lance abruptly in the classroom without any explanation. What could I say, though?

It's just that my ex-boyfriend also loves chocolate cakes, and you said the same thing after I asked him that question, too. So yeah, no worries. My heart isn't breaking apart again. I'm absolutely fine. Bye!

No freaking way!

Remembering what Mom had said earlier, I continued, "'Sides, he's an aromantic. I think there's a big chance if I get along with him, I won't be interested in romantic stuff anymore. It's great for me, right? But I still won't trust him, you hear me?"

"I'm sure that'll change sooner or later," Rachel confidently told me.

Yeah, right, I thought sarcastically.

Changing the topic, I asked her if she still had something to do. She replied no.

"Oh, right. You're trending on Twitter worldwide," she informed me. "I'm only trending in America. Not that I care. But still, this is fun!"

"Really? I'll login later to check it out."

After talking about random stuff for about thirty minutes, I bade Rachel good night and then ended the call. I logged in on Twitter using my MacBook Air and, sure enough, I saw the hashtag "MackenzieAdamsIsNowAWeyralian" included in the Worldwide Trends, top five.

Whoa!

I checked what was currently trending in America and saw "RachelSimpsonTransferredToWeyral" in the third spot. Then I started reading the latest tweets on my Twitter feed. But after finding there weren't any interesting tweets for me at the moment, I clicked the "@" button.

Smiling, I replied to some of the tweets my fans--or Adamsters--had sent me, thanking them, and even favoriting and retweeting some. But this time, most of the tweets were from Weyralians, saying they still couldn't believe I was now studying at Weyral.

Was it really that surprising?

I also replied to J.P.'s how-was-your-first-day-of-high-school tweet. His current project was an action and sci-fi film. I couldn't Skype him at the moment because I was sure he was busy. I missed him so much.

Then I saw a username that was familiar to me: Cynthia Blaire's. Her tweet included our picture together earlier.

With one of my favorite actresses @mackenzieadams! 😁 #sohappyithinkimgonnadie #MackenzieAdams #ohmigoshmoment

I giggled because of Cynthia's exaggeration. I retweeted and favorited it, but not before replying: @cynblaire can't wait to see you again at school tomorrow. Mwahugsss! 😊

When I finished replying to more tweets, I went to my room's balcony with my DSLR camera, taking a picture of the stars with the moon.

I wasn't that much of a "selfie" person; I mostly took pictures of places, nature, and me with my co-stars and the movie staff members.

After transferring the wonderful photo to my laptop, I posted the picture on my Twitter with the caption: You don't get to see this in L.A. every night. #homesweethome #DenverColorado

Within a few minutes the tweet had five hundred plus favorites and two hundred plus retweets.

Checking Cynthia's Twitter, I saw she had many pictures of her with Eunice, Lance and Spencer, as I recalled his name when he and Cynthia had chased around each other in trigo earlier.

So, Lance has a Twitter account, I thought as I clicked his username, lanllins, out of curiosity.

I found out Lance's Twitter wasn't that updated; he only had almost one hundred tweets but a whooping thirty thousand plus followers (I thought that was already many for a violinist). He was following thirty-one accounts. His last tweet was a week ago.

Having tea time with @cynblaire and @spenfield for the millionth time. 😂 #welovetea #bffs

I was sure the three had planned their usernames to be like that, which I thought was cool, and Lance Collins wasn't that much of an Internet user. Maybe he was always busy playing the violin after school. That's why he had no time for his social media life.

Then realizing what I was doing, my eyes widened. "Okay, why am I checking out his Twitter profile?" I asked myself, annoyed. "Mackenzie Grace Adams, you better stop this now or else!"

I had a staring contest with the screen of my laptop. After a few moments, I yawned and turned it off, defeated by the screen that didn't have any mercy.

I changed into my green nightgown after brushing my teeth, and then stumbled into my bed.

The last thing I remembered before falling into a deep slumber was how I'd really meant wanting to become one of Lance's friends, and I really didn't know why.

Being a teenager sucks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~