My heart was pounding and my breathing rapid. The only sound in the empty gym was the steady rhythm of my shoes on the treadmill. I felt like I was being stabbed in the side, my stomach cramped and twisted while I ran

        I took deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. I closed my eyes, not wanting to stare at the digital clock in front of me, knowing it would only seem longer if I counted the seconds. Only 16 more minutes. Come on Amanda, you can do it, I thought, giving myself a pep talk, Beach body. It's worth it. It took an awful lot to convince myself to even get on a tredmill, and took constant thought to keep going. I was pretty weak when it came to running.

        I heard the familiar beeping interrupting my inner monologue and I didn't have time to react before my chest hit the console at 7 miles per hour, knocking the breath out of me. I grabbed at the handles before I fell or passed out. "What...the hell... you little...bitch" I swore at Mike, who stood there holding the emergency clip. He knew that I would be the only one working out at 11 pm when no one else was around, the way I liked it.

        "Sorry," he apologized, not meaning it. He didn't say anything else, just thrust a handful of computer paper at me. Once I caught my breath, I took them from him and grabbed my water bottle.

        I nearly choked as I saw what was the contents of the page. It was a series of emails, the latest reading:

        Dear Kirby,

                This arrangement is great. I would love to work with you towards your degree, and trust me, there are plenty of things you could do here at Yogtowers to go towards coop credits. Polaris is equally excited to have you here, and I am ready to set up your payroll at anytime once you send me your I93 forms.

                It's nice to hear that such talent as yourself will be joining us here in Bristol. I look forward to working with you over the next year to write the new program while you finish your schooling at Ringlings.

        Yours truly,

.       Lewis

        I was fuming. "Mike!" I yelled at him, seeing the other emails that Lewis and 'I' had exchanged. "How could you?" I screamed, making a grab for him.

        I tried to cuff him over the side of his head but the handle bar stopped me as he easily took a step back. He gave me a sarcastic look, "I think a 'thank you' is in order."

         "For impersonating me?" I scoffed, "That's wrong..." I paused, "and...illegal..."

        "So arrest me," he said, anger clouding his eyes. I wasn't really used to Mike actually being angry, he was usually ready to do anything for me. "You've told me a million times since 9th grade that it's your dream to work there. Now I drop the opportunity in your lap and you get mad at me."

        I winced. He had a point, but I wasn't about to admit it. "I'd be moving countries!" I said exasperated, "Do you know how hard it is to get a visa for England? I'd have to apply for citizenship and don't even get me started on working permits."

        He opened his mouth for a rebuttal but I continued. "I wouldn't be able to drive and I wouldn't know the city and I would have to transfer all my bank accounts and change the insurance..." I prattled on.

        "Get Smith to help you. He can show you around and stuff," he suggested.

        "He doesn't even live anywhere close to Bristol," I moaned, not even angry anymore. Saying all of these things made me feel miserable and disappointed, and only convinced myself more that I would never be able to see Smith again.

        "Unless he moves too," Mike smirked, "You two could get a house together."

        I leaned my head against my forearms that rested on the console, simultaneously hinging at the hip so I wouldn't cramp up standing here. "I'm not going to live with someone I've met once," I sighed, feeling tears coming on.

        Mike sighed next to me. "Manda..." he whispered, "I'm just trying to help..."

        "By getting my hopes up for nothing?" I snapped, raising my head up. I wasn't going to whinge and cry about Smith right now.

        "Who said for nothing?" he asked.

        "It's just not going to work out!" I lamented. "There's too many things stopping me. It would be best just to forget about him," I said quietly, more to myself.

        "But... if you..." Mike started.

        "Forget it," I interrupted, turning the treadmill back on. I felt a pain in my thigh as the muscles tightened up while I walked.

        He looked as if he were about to argue again, but then convinced himself not to. He started to walk out, but stopped at the door. "Don't forget about the Magic tournament tomorrow," he called, turning to me. I could see he was trying to pacify our relationship after what just happened.

        I gave him a mischievous smile. "How could I ever forget to weasel away all your money?" I giggled.

        He snorted. "I taught you everything you know girly; it would be beneficial to remember that," he said, disappearing out the door.

       My smile quickly faltered as I returned my thoughts to the emails. I smashed the up arrow until I was running again. I resolved that I would email back Lewis tomorrow and call off the whole thing; and once this stupid series was over I would never talk to any of Hat Films again. It was for my own good; I was stupid to think any of this convoluted plan would ever work out. A clean break with everything would be the easiest to handle.

        I knew I would be hurting a lot once I did all this, so for just tonight, I let my mind wander to England. I imagined visiting Smith on weekends, and even taking a vacation to go and stay with him for a week in the summer. The thought of actually going on a date with him, vloging and filming a video with the three of them, or even simply holding his hand again made my heart flutter. I kicked up the MPH again, pretending that I was running all the way to him.

        I ran an extra mile and then ran across campus to our dorms. I couldn't stop thinking about him once I started, and even through my shower and homework my head was clogged with thoughts of Smith. I could still remember his breath on my lips, his hands wrapping around me and through my hair. I just couldn't stop imagining his lips on mine, the coarse hair of his beard scratching my chin and lips...

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        All throughout my morning classes I kept at it. I willed my brain to think of something else, to focus on my art, but it was a worthless effort. I had been blocking any idea of us out of my mind for so long that once I let an idea drip out, the pressure was enough to start a flood. I had to keep convincing myself that I was going to email Lewis today and tell him I'm not coming, or else I know I wouldn't do it.

        I watched the clock tick by, dreading the task I was about to do more and more as time progressed. I took my time packing up my materials after art history, and I walked with my long board in my arm, not wanting to get back to the dorm. I passed by the resource office for our dorm and got the idea that I would check my mail. I never got much since my fan mail had it's own PO box, but I welcomed anything to stall the inevitable.

        I greeted the security officer and took out my key. The normal bills and letters were in there, but something else caught my eye. It was a blue folder of some sort, and a familiar emblem was emblazoned on the cover. My hands shook as I opened it, knowing exactly what was in there. Pushing away the bumper sticker and key chain, my eyes poured over the letter.

        I took an unsteady breath and quickly slammed my mail box, running outside and jumping onto my long board. I quickly ran into the dorms and made my way up the massive amount of stairs.

        Opening my email, I quickly created a blank document to Lewis. I started to type, but then couldn't come up with the right words. My acceptance letter sat on the desk next to my monitor; mocking me. It wasn't the school in Bristol, but it was my first response back from anyone.

        No. No no no no. You can't. Don't be stupid. I reproached myself, Just send the email and get it over with. I stared at the empty white space, trying to will myself into writing the email. 

        But I couldn't do it. Not after that letter. I needed more time to convince myself not to go. I could always talk to him tomorrow... It was getting pretty late in England anyway....

        The minute I thought that it was already set in stone in my mind. It was a few hours early, but I knew that I could get some more practice in with my new deck before the tournaments actually began. I grabbed my three old decks and the new blue/green I had just made and shoved them into my backpack.I changed into something more provocative and dark, knowing that I wouldn't get any respect out of the guys unless I was the picture of confidence tonight. I grabbed my playing mat and longboard as I headed out the door.

---------------------------------

        The magic shop was actually a comic book store, but it's main business was Magic the Gathering cards and tournaments. Their basement was filled with tables and chairs specifically set up for games of two, three, and four players. As I suspected, there were already a few nerds hanging around the shop discussing deck strategies and color combinations. I went around looking for matches and trades, as well as starting to scope out the competition.

        I signed in and chatted with the owner and host for tonight. He told me about the new deck that was rumored to be coming out this summer, and mentioned that I had some new competition tonight. They were some off campus guys who had come yesterday to check out the venue. Apparently they had some pretty powerful cards.

        "Nothing me and Mike can't handle," I assured him. I heard the door open and saw the familiar mess of red curls I had become accustomed to. "Speak of the devil," I said, giving him a half smile.

        "Sup," he nodded, signing in to one of the brackets across from mine. There was always an unspoken agreement between us to leave each other for last.

        The basement filled up quickly as the tournaments began. I hadn't seen any new faces yet, but I didn't really pay attention since I was so focused on my game. My trusty black/red deck carried me far, and my black/white deck just managed to beat a red/white.

        I got up to travel to my next match when I was faced with a tall man in jeans and a leather jacket. I scrunched my nose at the dead carcass around his shoulders, already hating him. "Blackwell?" he asked. I nodded, looking towards the score board over everyone's head. I was up against someone named...

        I swallowed hard. "Smith?" I asked. He gave me a half smile and nodded, but it was an arrogant gesture. I immediately was on the defense. "Colors?" I asked.

        "Black/red/green," he told me, oozing confidence. I wanted to hit him, he was nothing like the Smith I knew. He had dark hair and even darker eyes, and he smelled like beer and cigarettes. He gave me an expectant look.

        I knew I was taking a chance with a deck that wasn't very well tested, but something about him made me angry enough to take the chance. "Blue/green," I told him, laying my playing mat onto a table.

        He laughed as if he were in on some dirty secret and walked around the table to sit across from me. We started shuffling and pushed our stacks towards each other to split it, making sure there was no cheating involved. I looked at my hand and started to sweat, seeing only weak creatures and spells.

        We managed to get each other down to three health each, and it was my turn. I looked at the one card I had on the battle field. It was a god, which meant it couldn't hit him. I tried to keep a poker face, but I knew that he could see my fear. Taking a chance, I tapped all my land cards and played every creature in my hand, turning my god into another creature. Swinging at him with everything would mean that I would be defenseless during his turn, but I took the chance anyway, praying that he didn't have any counters.

        He blocked my god, meaning he saved himself from 9 points of damage, but with my other creatures I still took 8 life from him. "Check mate," I joked, collecting my cards.

        He laughed, shaking his head. Even defeated, he was arrogant. "You're good," he said with a hint of malice.

        "Good game," I said through gritted teeth, not liking this kid at all. I was surprised that we had been going at it for atleast a half an hour, and explained why I had so many cards in my discard pile, my graveyard. His posse came over and started all talking at once, and I saw it as my chance to escape the clouded gaze of Smith.

        Mike ended up beating me in the championship, which wasn't that surprising; I knew we would split the 800 anyway. People were still playing, even if the tournament was over. I looked for a match to join, but then animal skins came over to me again. "Sorry about the loss," he smirked.

        I smiled at him. "I got farther than you," I said, hate weaving its way into the statement.

        He gave a genuine laugh this time. "This is true," he noted. He looked around the crowded room and suddenly pinned me with a hard gaze. He leaned down, "You wanna get out of here?" he asked into my ear.

        I was about to refuse, disgusted with what he had in mind, but then a thought occurred to me. It was a crazy and desperate one, but a thought none the less. This would help get over Alsmiffy, I thought. It was the perfect distraction. Besides, I was always the shy, quiet girl that studied too hard and played too many video games. Why couldn't I be as dangerous and crazy as I looked right now?

        "Sure," I winked, grabbing my long board and following him out. He lead me to his car and I got in. We made out for a while, and then he started his car and brought me to a sketchy looking house. I was feeling more nervous; promiscuity went against my straightedge beliefs, and it took a lot more silent convincing that this would help me get over Smith.

        "You're pretty hot Blackwell," he said, dragging me to a bedroom upstairs. I felt offended at the derogatory comment, but ignored it.

       I tried changing the subject. "What is this place?" I asked, looking around at the dingy walls of the stairway.

        "This is our hang out," he told me simply, and then opened the door to a bedroom. It was slightly cleaner, but I didn't get much time to look around before his lips were on mine again. His hands quickly found the zipper to my vinyl jacket, and it wasn't long before my shirt was off as well. 

        I continued to have to tell myself that this was helping, because I was feeling pretty shitty by this point. He was attractive, I gave him that, and an amazing kisser, but every movement of his screamed arrogance. This obviously didn't mean anything more to him than it did to me, but I still pushed it, shoving him into a sitting position on the bed and pulling off his shirt.

        He layed back, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me onto him. He was moving very fast, and a sense of dread washed over me. This was stupid; it obviously wasn't taking my mind off of Alex Smith, and I wasn't about to sully my body when nothing good would come from it. I suddenly got off of him and ran to my clothes where they lay on the floor. "I'm sorry," I muttered, "this isn't happening..."

        He gave me a stupid look before jumping up with realization. "Hey!" he barked, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

        I raised my eyebrows at him as if to say 'Did you really just say that to me?'. He glared at me and grabbed my wrist to stop me from putting my jacket back on. I didn't struggle, just looked down at his hand clamped around my wrist and then punched him square in the face. He reeled back, holding his nose as blood sprayed across his bare chest.

        "You bitch!" he screamed, charging me.

        I quickly stepped away and kicked him in the spine, then took his arm and twisted it behind his back, shoving his face against the wall. He cried out as I pulled upwards on his arm and then took a fistful of hair in my grip and slammed his head against the wall. He fell like a ton of bricks and I grabbed my long board and backpack, walking out to the sound of his moans and gurgles. The whole thing flashed by like a blur, and I couldn't believe what I had just done.

        I was shaking so much I couldn't use my board and had to walk home. I was confident in there, but the idea of what he could have done to me scared me badly. I said a prayer of thanks that I work out as much as I do, or else I would have never been strong enough to take on a guy that was almost twice my size. I took deep breaths so I wouldn't start having a panic attack or something to its equivalent, because I was pretty freaked out.

        The long walk home allowed me to think over all the mistakes I had made, as well as calm down. I couldn't believe how stupid and naive I had been, there was only one way I was going to stop being so bothered and depressed over Smith, and that was to go to him.

A/N sorry if you don't understand Magic the Gathering, but I assumed you still understood the plot behind it.