Kelly stood in her full length mirror rejecting yet another outfit. She wanted to look her best tomorrow on the first day of school. It was going to be the first time she would see Xan since leaving Nice. A part of her wished she had said no to the booking of the shoot in Miami, but it was with a previous client and when you start saying no to loyal clients they tend to move on to the next stunning beauty.

Besides, nobody pays their bills by refusing work.

No, she would just have to contend herself with the thought that someday she'd be working the runways of New York and abroad and will be sought after by all the haute couture designers of the world, but in order to get there she had to work hard to build her brand as a nationally known print model here in the US.

Sometimes the idea of being conscripted worried her for more reasons than the danger of the job, especially since Liam and his crew showed up. No it worried her because she didn't know how it would affect her career to disappear for five years while she served.

A great deal could happen over a five year period, she was sixteen now and by the time she finished with the guard she'd be twenty-four. Age discrimination is alive and well in the industry. What if she came back and she didn't fit the current look . . . Kelly's worry wheel came to an abrupt stop as she snorted and snickered to herself, and thought, as if being blonde, tall and beautiful would ever go out of style.

"Kelly my dear," she reprimanded herself, "you have more pressing concerns to deal with." She hadn't spoken to Xan in more than a week. Every time she tried him on his cell it went straight to voice mail. She'd stopped leaving messages for him days ago. Kelly Armstrong grovels at no one's feet. But, hell what was with him?

She tried not to be petty when she saw the pictures of him at a Gala event in St Tropez with a leggy blonde that wasn't her. He needed to attend these things and showing up stag all the time wasn't great for anyone's brand, not that he cared much about that.

Xan spent most of his time trying to disappear from his adoring fans. He simply couldn't stand the paparazzi -- hence his ever growing collection of super fast bikes. When she questioned him on his new fascination he had only said, 'well when I'm wearing the helmet they can't see my face and when they spot me they have no chance of catching me; they'd be crazy to even try'.

And he was right about that -- on his Ducati, Tomahawk, or now his Blackbird that goes 190 miles an hour not even the California Highway Patrol can catch him. She stopped riding with him as soon as he got comfortable enough on the bike to go stupid-fast. She'd said it was because she couldn't stand helmet head, but actually, and she'd never admit this to anyone, they scared the bejeezus out of her.

She'd asked him to slow down but he'd said going slow on these bikes would be like strapping on your roller blades to go for a swim -- it just didn't make any sense. The last time she straddled the death dealers she had been a shaking quivering mess by the time he'd finally pulled over. That's when she'd tapped out.

Yeah, yeah, she knew Xan's friends thought of her as a total bad ass, and she normally wouldn't disagree, but there are limits to even her bravery or stupidity, whatever way you look at it; it was a real shame -- she looked damn good in biker leather.

Kelly had to resist the urge to try Xan again. No doubt he was back in San Fran by now but he obviously didn't feel the need to contact her so why contact him like some sort of stalker girl? She had more dignity than that. She just wished the guy would stop ghosting her.

When she started to consider getting out her magical pen to invite the dweebs out to a group outing -- under the guise of a pre-back to school get together just to see him -- she began to realize how pathetic she truly was.

Lauren had spelled the pens last spring to allow them to communicate from anywhere, even though they can't use cells, but she'd never initiated a conversation with any of them on her own. They were Xan's friends not hers. Sure they had spent a lot of time together last year but that didn't mean that any of them would be in line to be her besties.

She'd gone on their outings and fought alongside them for her own selfish reasons. If Liam succeeded in his plans last year they all would have been conscripted early and that was so not happening. Being a High School dropout was not in her future.

The only one of the dweebs she could even remotely tolerate was Donnie the Cait Sith. And that was only because of her fondness for cats. Which she knew was weird, but if you saw him you'd have to agree. He's a gorgeous Russian Blue and super cute in both his forms, not like she'd admit it though. A penniless Italian boy with no prospects was not ever going to be in her league.

But every time he's in his cat form, either playing with her or sitting on her lap purring louder than a motor boat, it melts her cold, cold heart.

To say she has mixed feeling about the boy would be an understatement. One time she was even cruising rodeo drive when she was in LA last and saw a diamond studded cat collar and had almost bought it.

Thank God she caught herself when she pictured herself giving it to the Italian boy in human form. She could only shudder at the thought of how weird that would have looked.

She can't help herself though. She'd always wanted a cat growing up, but that was never in the cards given the number of times they ended up moving. Beside her father hates cats, which was another strike for him in her books? People who don't like cats were right up there with people who don't like chocolate -- they made it right to the top of her suspect list of possible transplanted aliens.

Actually it had been weird that she never heard from them this summer, but she guessed even the bad guys need to take a vacation. And Liam having spent most of his life in a dark dimension probably has some sun issues. He was probably hiding from the sun wearing SPF 1000 right now. She laughed at the image as she pulled out yet another outfit from her walk in closet.

It was beginning to look like her closet had thrown up on her bed. So in her half dressed state she started putting some of the most expensive clothes a teenager had ever worn back in their proper places with reverence. Her wardrobe was to die for and she knew it. But the dream of one day being on the cover of Vogue didn't come cheap.

When she went to pick up a Dior that had slipped on her pristine floor and stood back up she noticed the text that had come out of nowhere on the wall. It read:

Meet-up at Burger Joint in Mission hills, who's in? T & K

Kelly laughed when she realized who sent the invite; those two lived on their stomachs.

When everyone started responding meet you there. She had to tell herself she wasn't madly reading the responses for a certain text, but she couldn't fool herself any longer when Xander finally responded and her heart skipped a beat.

She couldn't help but tell herself she was such a loser when she practically dove for the bed to grab her purse. She had her pen in her hand in seconds and had responded with a resounding:

I'm in. K

And before she knew it, she was dressed, in her car, and cruising down the street before you could say:

Get a life!

Well it looks like Xan's has ghosted Kelly again?

I wonder how her showing up is going to go down?

Tune in tomorrow to find out.

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