When the doorbell rings at three in the morning it's never good news, but after a few minutes of lying in bed, wondering about who in the world it could be, I realized that I should probably get up and answer it. I crawled out of bed and down the stairs to the front door where I found my mom and Uncle Nick standing with tears streaming down both of their faces.

I was about to ask what was going on when I heard someone coming down the stairs behind me. I turned to see my sister Sophie, her hair tousled and frizzy with random strands sticking up here and there as if she had been struck by lightning.

"Who is it?" she asked while rubbing her eyes. She looked up and saw Mom and Uncle Nick, who were now hugging. "Why is Uncle Nick here?"

I shrugged and wondered the same thing.

Why would he be here? Especially in the middle of the night? Has something bad happened?

After a while Mom let go of Uncle Nick and wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks.

"Girls," she said softly to Sophie and I as she waved her hand, directing us to the living room. We sat on either end of our leather sofa with Mom between us. Uncle Nick sat in a big, tan recliner that our grandpa Hank gave us after he left to go live at the Shady Oaks nursing home downtown. He looked tired and his normally blue eyes were light gray and filled with a look of grief and sadness. His face was still red and blotchy from crying.

What could have happened that is so awful to make even Uncle Nick cry?...Uncle Nick never cries.

"Girls," Mom began again. "I want you to remember that, well, everything happens for a reason, whether we like it to or not, and... and sometimes that is really easy to forget, but I... I need you to keep that in mind when I tell you this. Okay?" She looked back and forth from me to Sophie and squeezed my hand that she had taken in hers.
I nodded, not really understanding, and exchanged glances with Sophie. She was shaking. I wondered what she was thinking.

Mom looked at Uncle Nick and he nodded in return. My heart began to beat so hard and loud I swear they could all hear it. Part of me wanted really badly to know what she had to tell us, but another part of me didn't want to hear it, just wanted to go back to my room to sleep and forget about all the tears and hugging of that night, but I had to stay.
Had to.

"Do you two remember four months ago when your father was drafted into Iraq?" Mom asked, and just with that one single question Sophie was already bawling. Uncle Nick almost immediately ran over to her and hugged her, wrapping her in his big, strong arms, making her look nearly five years younger than the thirteen-year-old she was.

Just looking at Sophie with yesterday's mascara running down her cheeks made me get all emotional too. I tried my hardest not to let it show as Mom finished up what she was saying, but as she said the last three words, I couldn't help but to let the tears fall.

•••

Getting told that your dad was killed isn't the kind of news you would really want to hear, especially two months before graduation.

I honestly didn't know how to feel about it. Was I supposed to be angry at the world forever? Was I supposed to be sad and hide in a closet for the rest of my life to cry? Or maybe I was supposed to be happy about it and... Wait, what? Was there even any possible way to be optimistic about it? At that point, I wasn't exactly sure. The only thing that I knew to do was to live life day by day as it came.
And that started with school.

"Come on, Sophie!!" I yelled up the stairs. "Don't make us late again!" I looked at the clock on top of the small bookshelf by our front door.

7:21 a.m.

"Sophie, it's almost eight o'clock! Hurry up!" I yelled again. With that, my blonde-headed sister came running down the stairs, her backback thrown hastily over one shoulder. In her left hand was a book-Uneven, by Andrew Pearson- and a tube of cherry lip gloss in her right. She looked at the clock.
"You jerk! It's not even seven thirty!" She threw her backpack and book on the floor and applied about a thousand doses of lip gloss on her chapped lips.

"I know," I snapped back.

Mom came out of her bedroom.

"Stop the bickering and get in the car before I feed you both to the neighbor's dog!" Mom joked, but the irritated look she had on her face almost convinced me that she was being serious. Ever since Dad died, she... Well, let's just say she hasn't been the happiest person on Earth, but who would be after having their spouse get killed?

I rushed out the door with the Sophie following behind me, grumbling. You might say that I was having a bad start off to my day, but to me, it was quite typical.

We arrived at the school at 7:54, which is actually about fifteen minutes earlier than when we usually got there. I walked into the old, little building, into Mr. Smith's biology classroom, and sat in my assigned seat, right next to my best friend, Parker Jones.

Mr. Smith was tall and had a rather odd shape to
him-small at the top and gradually gets bigger as it goes down, almost like a pear. I wasn't a big fan of Mr. Smith, though everyone else seemed to be. I guess that was just because he was actually nice to them. For some reason, he didn't really like me. I still don't know why.

Mr. Smith looked up from grading tests from last week. "Sara Anderson. Late again. One more time and you'll find yourself with Mrs. Draper in detention. You understand?"

I nodded and felt my hands get sweaty as I sensed everyone's eyes on me. Just the very thought of detention gives me chillbumps. I, somehow, have managed to not get detention my entire life and I don't plan to any time soon, either.

"Sorry. I promise it won't happen again, Mr. Smith." I got out a sheet of paper and a pencil and began working on the assignment written on the white board.

Parker turned to me with wide brown eyes.
"Where were you? I waited in the cafeteria for, like, thirty whole minutes for you!" She complained.
"Blame Sophie! It takes her twenty minutes just to choose what outfit she's going to wear!" I whisper-yelled back.

"Bet it takes her thirty minutes to figure out what eye shadow to put on!"

"Yeah, and then fifteen to put it on!"

We both laughed, and apparently it was a bit too loud because Mr. Smith had to get on to us. After that I went to math, then study hall, then history, and finally to lunch, which was all still fairly typical and stayed that way up until the five minute break between fifth and sixth period when I completely embarrassed myself in front of Dustin Mitchell, a Doctor Who watching percussionist with the looks of an angel who could have very easily passed as an MFW model.

Or at least that's what everyone else thought. Honestly, I wasn't a big fan.

Well, that's what I was thought.

•••

The bell had rang and I was on my way to my locker when a boy with a dark complexion and long, greasy brown hair bumped into me, knocking my textbooks out of my arms to the floor. I was hoping and kind of expecting some sort of apology from the kid, but he just kept walking like nothing had happened. I bent down to retrieve my books and when I stood back up, I ran myself right into Dustin Mitchell.

"Hey!!" I yelled while picking up my history book. When I had finished stuffing them all in my navy blue Jansport backpack, I looked up to find a strong-looking arm stretched out in front of me. For a second I just stared at it, but then I put my hand in his and he pulled me up. I looked straight into his brown eyes.

"Hey," I said, only this time it was a little less 'Hey!! What the crap was that for?" and a little more 'Hey, I never noticed how gorgeous your face is!'

"Are you alright?" He asked and casually readjusted his backpack on his shoulder. I didn't answer. I just stood there staring at him. His dark brown hair and the way it laid on his head was just so... So... Perfect.
Finally, I came back to reality.

"Sorry. It was all my fault. I should have-"

"No no. Don't apologize. It's fine," he said in his amazing voice that was slightly high-pitched for a 17-year-old.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later, Anderson." He punched my shoulder lightly, and I watched as he headed down the hallway to his next class.
Sometime during our conversation, Parker had snuck behind me to listen.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," I said dreamily. We walked down the opposite hall to band.

"Come on, Sara! You can't tell me that was nothing!" She made her bottom lip pucker out and batted her eyes. I just couldn't keep quiet.

I told her the story of what had happened, although I constantly had to stop because of Parker's "oh no he didn't"'s and " no way!!"'s and "seriously, girl!"'s. When I had finished, the first thing she said was:
"Dustin likes you!!!"

"What? No he does not!" I said immediately back.

"Oh yeah he does! I could tell by the way he looked at you."

"That doesn't mean anything." I stopped and turned to face her. She was wearing her usual outfit-a bright colored skirt with a long, flowing train, a Five Seconds of Summer shirt with a hot pink cardigan over it.

"Okay, well..." She thought for a moment, while chewing on her already short fingernails. "What about how he punched you? Ooh! And how he called you buy your last name?!"

"How long were you standing behind me?" I asked and thought about what she said. I remembered in fifth grade when Parker had showed me a magazine that had a section on 'How to know if a boy likes You' when she thought that Sam Barnes liked her.

#4: When the boy purposely bumps into you or gives you a friendly punch on the shoulder.

I gasped, but thankfully Parker was digging in her purse-probably for lip gloss -so she didn't notice it. When she found what she was looking for-lip gloss, just as I thought-and put it on her thin, pink lips, she looked at me as if I had eight heads.

"What??" I yelped, but soon realized what she was studying me for. Then, she looked straight into my eyes. I felt a chill crawl down my spine.

"Hmm," she said, putting the lip gloss back into her purse.

"What?!?!" I asked again, but she still did not answer. She just stood there, staring. Soon the tardy bell rang, breaking our intense silence and we walked, well, more ran to the band room where Ms. Robes was storming around the carpeted room. As Parker and I walked up to the door, I could Ms. Robes yelling at the other students, who didn't seem to be the least bit interested in her ranting.

I looked to the back of the room where my eyes automatically spotted Dustin. He had his drumsticks in his hands and was playing rudiments on his knees. He stop when he noticed me awkwardly walking in behind Parker. I couldn't help but to noticed the way he smiled at me, with his mouth just barely opened enough to see a small sliver of his polished white teeth.

And then, as Parker would put it, a spark flew between us when his gorgeous brown eyes met my own. He offered me the seat to his right, and of course, Parker made me take it.

I sat down and looked up at Ms. Robes who had began going over her class rules for the fourth time that week.

"What's this all about?" I asked Dustin as I put together my clarinet, which I had so cleverly named Clara.

"She caught Misty chewing gum. I guess you know the rest." He answered.

"Oh," I said lamely. I looked over a Parker who was staring at me again. "What is up with you, Parker?" I yelled quietly so that Ms. Robes wouldn't give me *gulp* detention, seeing as she was already in a very cranky mood that day.

This time Parker actually answered.
"You're just acting...different."

"What do you mean different? I'm acting like I always do-like me!" She saw me glance over at Dustin, who was whispering to Mark Everett, a short, dark-haired trumpet player.

"You have a crush on Dustin!" She said a bit too loudly. Dustin, hearing his name, turned towards us. Parker began pretending like she was practicing her concert pieces while I just sat there looking at Dustin like a total loser.

We sat there in each other's gaze for a few minutes. Part of wanted to stop, but the other part of me kept me staring. Finally, Ms. Robes broke our awkward yet amazing staring contest.

"Mrs. Anderson!" She called from the front of the room and I jumped, nearly falling out of my seat. "What is my number one rule?" She asked.

I could feel my heat beating in my throat. I glanced over at Dustin who then gave me a look that I couldn't quite understand, so I pulled my attention back to Ms. Robes.

"No...no, uh..."

"What was that?" She asked, but her voice sounded surprisingly nice so I was able to get something out without bursting into tears first.

"No...no gum in the c-classroom." I managed to get out. My face was burning.

"That's right! No gum in MY classroom. Hear that, Misty?" In looked at Misty who seemed to be getting smaller in her seat. "Next time I suggest that you spit it out before I ha-"

The bell cut her off and all the kids rushed out of the classroom like a herd of wild animals. Well, all except Dustin who walked out in his usual, totally hot way. Ugh, what is wrong with me???

When everyone was gone-including Ms. Robes who went to the teacher's lounge probably to eat a chocolate pudding cup like she does every time she gets stressed out- I turned to Parker.

"What the crap was that about?" I practically yelled at her even though she was literally right next to me.

"What?" She yelled back.

I hate it when she plays innocent with me. Especially since we've been best friends since first grade and she knows that I cannot stand any type of joke.

"You know!" She raised an eyebrow (Lucky! I've never been able to do that!) And went back to disassembling her flute.

"Ugh! You told Dustin that I like him and I don't! But now, thanks to you, he thinks that I actually do!"
She looked at me, eyebrow still up.

"First off, I didn't tell him, he just overheard. Second, yes you do like him. It's obvious!"

"No I don't!" I argued.

"Really?" She asked as I remembered the way he helped me up and later offered me a seat.
"Okay, so he's sweet. And he's got a nice smile. Oh, and his eyes!" Parker looked at me, blinking. "Okay, fine maybe I do like him." I said quietly after making sure no one was around to hear me say it.

"I knew it!" She grabbed her backpack and things and headed towards the door where Ms. Robes was standing.

"Looks like someone has a crush on Dustin!" She said in a voice that proves the pudding cup really does help her mood.

Trying to avoid the awkwardness of it all, I gathered all of my things and quickly rushed out the door, only to find my face plastered into Dustin's chest. I looked up at him, hoping to find a forgiving face.
"Sorry," I said in a weak voice.

"Well aren't you just a clumsy little girl today?"
I blushed, but tried to keep my expression cool.
"That's what I'll call you. Clumsy." He joked, getting his sheet music off of a stand where he accidentally left it.

"Oh, so now I'm one of the seven dwarfs?" I joked back.

He measured my height with his hand. "Well..." He smiled.

I smiled back. "Okay, whatever."

Then I remembered that we weren't the only ones in there, and turned to see Ms. Robes disgusted and Parker making kissy faces. I guess I made a face at them because immediately both of them stopped and began doing their own things again. I turned back to Dustin in who was staring at me.

"So..." I said awkwardly while attempting a smile, but only ending up looking like a constipated capuchin.

I felt surprising comfortable standing in a room alone with a hot guy, but that changed when I saw Dustin take a quick glance at my lips.

Oh my goodness. Is he about to-

My heart fluttered at Dustin's soft lips met mine. Obviously forgetting that we were still at school, he slipped his hand on my hip.

This continued until Ms. Robes caught us. She wrote us both detentions for two weeks and the "best" part of it was, I had to call my mom and explain to her what I did to deserve my punishment.

Great. Just great.

•••

"You what?!?!?!"

"Come on, Mom. It was just a little kiss on the cheek! That's, like, nothing compared to what this one girl did. She and this one guy jus-"

"SARAH!" My mom yelled through the phone. "It doesn't matter what 'this one girl' did. You know better than to go and do that! I am so disappointed in you..."

Of course. She just had to pull the 'I'm So Disappointed' card.

Ugh. Mothers.