Before I know it, the end of day school bell is going and I'm walking back to my locker with no sign of Lucian. Maybe he decided he didn't want to go? I ponder. 'Or, maybe he just took what Marcus said about staying away from me to heart.' A small voice in my head says, causing me to stare down at my feet; forgetting what I'm doing. My books are heavy in my bag, reminding me of my thin body shape. My teachers used to tell me to eat more, as if there was something wrong with me, I never really explored their comments any further than that.

I begin to walk out of school putting one foot in front of the other, watching the streaks of sun dance around my feet. No one really stops to notice the beautiful things in life, like the way the sun dances on the emerald green tree leaves, the sound of the water at the ocean and how it plays for you like a symphony, the smell of homemade bread sitting on your counter and floating out the window on a Sunday afternoon.

Just as I am about to give up on the thought that Lucian didn't wait for me, I see a familiar pair of sneakers planted on the concrete outside the main school entrance.

"Took you long enough." Lucian giggles and huffs.

"I thought you left." I admit.

He stands back, trying to act as if he's hurt, the way he does. My chest brings up a small laugh.

"What kind of person do you think I am?!" He says sarcastically as we begin to walk out of the school premises and cross the road.

"I've been meaning to ask you," He starts. "Since were going to be like, friends and all, I have to give you some kind of nickname." He States.

"Isn't my name good enough?" His sarcasm is contagious, now even I'm using it. I giggle again slightly at the emotion that flashed across his face, thinking I was serious for just a second.

"I was thinking something like sassy pants, or bomber." He decides.

"Um, no. You're terrible with names." I state hilariously. Bomber? Ohhh. The realization of todays events hits me again. I blew up Marcus's science experiment, and honestly, day well spent.

"I get bomber, but sassy pants? I'm the nicest person I know." I joke. I'm not used to giving myself compliments, but of course I didn't mean it. It was just to support my point.

"Fine fine. All jokes aside, what about Lina? It's you're name but shortened, has a nice ring to it doesn't it?" He questions me. Lina, huh. It's kind of nice.

"Alright, that one is not as preposterous, so I'll allow it." I agree.

"Big words..." He mumbles, mocking me in a friendly way.

After a moment, I realize, we haven't decided what I will call him.

"So what, am I supposed to call you Lucy? Since it's your name but shortened?" I joke.

He looks at me and smiles; it makes me feel warm.

"Um, how about no. You can just come up with some amazing new name for me as we go." He decides.

"Right then." I comply. This will be interesting. Especially the part about 'as we go', since I don't know how long he will stick with me.

As we walk along the path before we reach the park, I realize that mini Lucian is not here, and alert courses through me.

"Wait, where's mini Lucian?" I question intently, worried that we have left him at school.

"Mini wh- oh, Stephan," He realizes and releases a hearty laugh.  "My dad came and got him after school, I told dad I was going to the park with you so I'll just walk home later. How are you getting home?" He questions me.

"I walk to and from school most days, but mornings like today where I was too lazy, I catch the bus." I state.

"How lazy." He says quietly, looking at me with a smile.

"Hey you can't talk, you caught the bus too." I remember.

"What? Me? But that would make me lazy, and that would be rather tragic." He sarcastically remarks.

"Right."

We continue to walk through the grass, leading off the path. The grass looks so warm and inviting; the afternoon sun causing it to glimmer. There are two separate car parks, one is on the left side behind a short wooden fence, and the other is on the right amongst the trees, a place you have to find after coming here for a while. The large hill stands like a throne for the single broad oak tree that sits upon it, overlooking the grassy blanket that continues for what seems like forever. The view from that tree, my tree, is the most beautiful thing I have ever found in life. When it's cold and raining, you can watch the raindrops shimmer in the sun and slowly each take their turn of jumping off the leaves and branches onto the ocean of grass beneath you.

Then, my favorite part, is jumping down from the branches to see the misty dew swirling in the wind and rising from the grass, as if it were dancing and the hill was its stage. The misty ball always takes place right at my oak tree, and I love looking at the crystalized rain drops and the cool wind that carries them far far away, over the deep green trees that lay below.  The view is a large landscape filled with all different shades of green, and really, any other color you can think of lays behind the horizon. Every morning and night, the sun says hello and goodbye in a new color, or a mix of color's, in which the clouds then indulge in as they slowly pass through the day.

"So this is it hey?" Lucian asks, pulling me out of the beautiful haze I was lost in.

"Yeah, we can go sit in that tree up there." I indicate as I point towards it briefly.

It took a few minutes of convincing to get that boy up there, with the spiky bark and the thick layers of leaves surrounding the tree like a shield, but he made it to my branch... eventually.

"I always come here. Something about the view is both captivating and freeing at the same time. I sometimes feel as if the large spread of trees were made in a way to make you feel as if there's more out there, as if it simply never ends and you will always have a place to go. It's peaceful.  The sun always trickles down the leaves at dusk, I could sit up here for hours just watching it do what it was made to do, in fact, most nights I do." I confess sensitively, emotion in my voice. This place has always meant a lot to me. Instead of replying, his eyes scan over the area I have just described. He glances over the power lines on the left that point towards the city, and the large buildings that seem miniscule from the top of my tree. It's as if I can read his mind, and I can feel him growing a connection to this view, the way I have for the past few years. Reading books all my life has made me realize that understanding how someone thinks and reading their expressions isn't as hard as people make it out to be. Once you've read millions of perspectives and been inside so many different peoples heads, you begin to realize that there are distinct traits everyone can have that indicate what they are thinking or feeling.

Sometimes I look at my teachers and peers and it's as if I can feel what they are feeling, and see what they are thinking because of their nervous habits that strangely I notice and the way their face expressions change at the sound or view of certain things. Lucian strangely enough has the habit of fiddling with his fingers. On the bus this morning, he twiddled his thumb's around one another while he was talking to me. I know this was a nervous habit because after he spoke a little more to me, his shoulders untensed and his brows relaxed and even his smile seemed more genuine. He seems to stop fiddling with his fingers when he is either distracted or comfortable. When we came and sat up here, he began doing that habit, but as he peered off into the beautiful view before us, his body stilled and his mind began to wander beyond the trees and beyond the city up ahead; to a place only your mind could ever imagine.

I like to think this is because he is becoming comfortable with me, but then again, why am I seeking the trust and friendship of a soul I am yet to know?

LUCIAN'S POV.

I stare at her as she watches the clouds pass by, noticing the reflection of white blurs in her wonder filled brown eyes. It takes me a second to realize she's speaking to me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I said can you believe that if you had of picked any other house anywhere over the world we never would have met." She points out as she looks over the forest, like her mind is somewhere else. We sit there for a moment while I ponder that thought.

I can believe it.

"How come you came here?" She questions curiously.

We chose a place far far away from my old house, so that we would be hidden away from the past life we had. Something about the word hidden seems to stick, making me uncomfortable. Part of me knows that hiding will never work, it's a two player game, and the seeker will never stop seeking.

No. We aren't hiding. I decide. We are starting again. Right this time.

We chose a place that we didn't even know existed, that was far far away from Markson, so that if the past ever came back to haunt us, it wouldn't know where to find us. I don't know how to explain that to Lina, nor am I sure that I want to. She doesn't know the real reason we moved here, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for her or anyone else to know.

I still have the memories filled in the back of my mind, but I have shoved them down to a place deep down, so that I don't even have the option to reminisce. I don't know if I could ever open them up again... I've suppressed them for so long. From the traits I've seen in her so far, I can gather that she would listen to me, maybe even try to make me laugh when I got to the really messy parts; feel sorry for me. But that is just it, I don't want her to pity me and see me differently. Not the way everyone did back home. I will not go through that again. I would rather move again and again if it means avoiding the hint of sorrow in societies eyes towards my family once they know about our, well, lives. We aren't normal like everyone else, no matter how much we wish we could be.

I think that's why I try so hard to protect Stephan from everything in life, he's so young, he never understood why things happened to us the way they did, and I hope to keep him in that foggy mindset as long as I can. Some people would call that selfish or wrong, but I believe that it is the most unselfish act of them all.

"I don't know about that, we kind of just appeared out of thin air the other day." I answer her, trying to lighten the mood and take the conversation away from my painful past. I have noticed that she has caught onto my witty nature, something I actually like about myself. It raises a glow to my cheeks at the thought of it being contagious.

She chuckles and looks as though she is going to punch my arm, but something about the way she was so unsure and hesitant makes me see that she is not a physical kind of person.

"Really though, you've never mentioned why you actually moved here." She lightly pushes, scaring the crap out of me. What the hell do I say? Panic rises in my stomach as I answer as calm as I can,

"That is a story for another time..." Leaving her in the dark. I know she won't have it though. crap.

She spins around, worrying me that in her swift motion she is going to fall off the thick branch and topple down the never ending green hill below us. She brings her legs up, and decides on crossing her legs while using her right arm to lean on the other branch above us, resting her head on that arm. Before she seemed to be analyzing the view, as if it was going to disappear any second, and now she is analyzing me with her rich dark brown eyes. She gives me a disapproving frown but can't hold that expression long before a smile overtakes her features. I try to hide my face in the shadows of the leaves.

"What, did you murder someone?" She smiles in a jokingly fashion, making a smile spread on my face as well.

"No, nothing that bad." I chuckle softly while looking at the sky once again, my hands returning to my sides, making me more relaxed.

"Mmm did you steal an expensive car and get arrested?" She questions again. I have noticed that she has caught onto my witty nature, something I actually like about myself. It raises a glow to my cheeks at the thought of it being contagious.

"Yep a real expensive one, a hot red Ferrari. It's stashed in our garage. I'll have to show you some time." I joke sarcastically, glancing at her as she roles her eyes while chuckling silently.

"Anymore interrogating or can we shut this case down Sherlock?" I smirk hoping to finally stop this conversation before I admit more than I want to. In all honesty, she is safer not knowing.

She roles her eyes again and turns back around, her stare now directed back at the view.

"I have a question for you actually," I state, causing her eyes to drift in my direction, but something about my words has caused a frown to overtake her face, ever so slightly. She continues to stare out as though I haven't said anything.

"What would you have to ask me?" She says it so plainly, as though she couldn't possibly understand what anyone would want to know about her.

"Tell me something, a story maybe, something about yourself." I understand fully that my question is completely contradicting my hidden responses to her questions, but I hope she doesn't see through that. She does not seem happy with my question, as though I have poked at something inside of her that did not wish to be touched. She remains quiet for what feels like minutes, as though she is in deep thought, a look I understand well.

"There's not really much to me." She answers flatly and ever so quietly.

Without thinking, I look at her. I can feel the worry and surprise etched into my face, but I try to remain composed as I search her movements for some kind of clue to what she has said. She does not look at me, instead, she softly closes her eyes and points her chin up to bathe in the warmth and sunlight of the afternoon sky, as though it could somehow take her away from this place. It was then that I realized she's different. Just like me. I can only hope that there aren't other things such as this that we have in common, as from her response, I am worried that we have more in common than I ever could have thought.

"Well, I like to think that's a good thing. It means you aren't full of all the crap other people are full of. You have who you are, and what you do and what you say, and honestly, that's the most important part of being human. If you don't have a lot to you, the things you do have must be more special than a thousand different traits combined. I think it makes you unique. There's no shame in that, only beauty." I realize that in saying this I had turned my head back towards the view, and when I hear nothing from her, I turn around, hoping I haven't chased her off somehow with my words.

As I turn to look at her, I am taken back. Her maroon eyes are wide and staring at me as if I've just said the craziest thing in the world. Her hands are clutching the branch, and I notice that she's closer to me than before; like my words have drawn her in. Her pale peach lips are parted, forming the shape of an 'O', while small brown wisps of her hair dance around her cheeks in the breeze. Her hair has turned the color of golden honey in the sun. Panic washes over me, did I say something wrong?

She seems to realize what her body is doing and shuffles back slightly, regaining her composure, and looking as though she is fumbling for words.

"Well, uh, when I was in 5th grade, we were told to bring in our pets for science class and I haven't ever owned a pet, but 5th grade me didn't want to accept that." A slight smile rests on her lips as she relives the memory. "I tried asking my mum for one, but she said they are too much work. So, everyday afterschool, I sat at the pond here trying to catch one of the little fishes with my lunch bag, which never, ever worked." She smiles wider. "Eventually, I gave up on that since I couldn't catch one, obviously. So, I sat in my backyard waiting for some kind of animal or something to pass by for me to catch and make my pet. Eventually, this little grey lizard came up to me and sat on my foot, so I picked him up and put him in this little enclosure I had ready and the next day I took him to school. I ended up naming him Rocky because he looked like a rock when he was next to them. Real original I know. I took him to class, but the issue was that the lid was too far open, and when it came to my turn to present, he had scurried off somewhere in the class. We couldn't find him. The only good thing that came of it was the horror on everyone's faces as they stood up on their chairs. It was hilarious." She chuckles.

I like her nonchalant response, it draws away from the intensity of my earlier little speech.

"Wow, quite the determined little thing aren't you?" I state with a smile. This story tells me a lot about her character, a lot more than I had expected to grasp. She was willing to sit at a pond chasing moving fish for hours after school, and as hilarious as that is, it also shows me that if she wants something she will go to any length in order to get it. She also seems to find the best out of a bad situation. It's quite admirable. She also seems to have the need to fit in, which baffles me, as I think she shouldn't fight being different from other kids our age. If anything, she should be encouraging that trait more.

I realize that I am a hypocrite in thinking that, as ever since everything happened back home, I hated the way people looked at me like a stray wolf who had been cast out from societies pack. I wanted to be normal, live a normal life, but as I have come to realize, we actually have little control over what happens to us. Yes, you can control what you do and what you say, but when a missile is being shot directly at you, you can't just move away. You have to take the hit, whether you asked for it or not.

"I suppose so." She agrees with a faint smile, once again pulling me from my head.

Below us, the sound of children's laughter as they run down the hill and play on the playground fills the air. It's, peaceful. For the first time in a very long time, I feel peaceful. We are starting again. Even if it's been difficult moving around and dealing with the changes, I can't help but thank God for this moment. This moment where I finally have a sense of peace, sitting high up in an old oak tree staring at the world with the girl who has golden brown hair in the sun.