I continue to pace back and forth in my room; it's 3 am I can't go to sleep. I can't stop thinking about what my father said, "That's because he isn't the one." How can he tell me who isn't the one? He doesn't know how I feel about Caleb, only I know.

I care about him, I do. Can't I just like someone? Why do I have to fall instantly in love with them? Love, at first sight, is not love at all... its lust, seeing the person on the outside before getting to know what's within.

Love at first sight is just a vain saying that some arrogant, egoistic person who cares more about their outer appearance than the inside came up with.

It isn't real.

My father shouldn't have never asked me about anything concerning love; now it's all that's on my mind. I sit and lay back onto my bed, sighing into the air. "Love, the strongest force known to mankind," I say out loud.

Stephaine Laurens once said, "Love truly is the most transformative power in heaven and earth."

It's no secret that love makes you do crazy things, but of course, it's only crazy to someone who hasn't experienced it. Hence why I call it crazy.

Love.

Maybe I do love Caleb.

A big part of being in love is wanting to protect that person, wanting to keep them safe. I would do anything for Caleb; I will always do whatever I can to protect him. I'm lying to him about looking for Katie. I'm doing it to keep him safe and away from Travis and all the demons from my past. I have to lie to him in order to keep him safe.

If something ever happened to him, I don't know what I would do, especially if that something was my fault.

Does me wanting to protect him necessarily mean that I love him?

Love isn't an emotion you sit around wondering about. If I loved him, I wouldn't be laying back on my bed, asking myself if I loved him or not; I would just know.

My phone rings, and I pull it out from under my pillow. It's him. I don't know why but something my grandmother said long ago before she passed pops in my head. She once said, how, when, you're thinking of someone there thinking of you. It seems like she was right, no surprise, she's a grandmother, there always right.

The phone continues to ring in my hand, I break away from the thoughts of my deceased grandmother and answer.

"Hello," he says as soon as the line picks up.

"Hey," I respond back in a low voice, I don't want my father to wake up.

"I'm surprised you're still up."

"Can't sleep." I simply say.

"Me neither." I wonder what he is thinking about. It must be pretty serious for him to be up at three. "You called me earlier," he says.

I forgot I called him this morning, well technically yesterday morning. What did I call him for? Oh yeah. "I did. It was nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure you were okay about what happened last night... with my dad." Even though my dad and I patched things up, I still think he was rude last night.

"I'm fine. I told you that was going to happen." He mocks. He did tell me I didn't listen. Maybe I should have listened; I should've just let him leave out the window. If I did, my father would've never known he was here. Then they wouldn't have had to have that awkward encounter, and better yet, that love conversation I had with my dad over lunch wouldn't have ever happened. I enjoyed our day out, but I'm positive if the events the other night never happened, he wouldn't have taken me anywhere. "What did your dad say?" he asks.

"Uhm." I don't know what to tell him; my dad said different things, at first he was mad about him being here, then it somehow turned into me being in love with Caleb. I don't want to tell him my dad was angry, and I definitely don't want to bring up the love thing. "Uhm, he didn't say much, he just had a ruff day at work." I lie to him yet again. "Some business deal went wrong or whatever," I add, trying to make my lie more believable.

"Oh."

The phone goes silent for a few seconds. "I have a question." I blurt out. Ugh, what am I doing?

He laughs and says, "Okay." drawing the word out, sounding scared to know what I have to ask.

I'm scared to ask it. "Do you..." I pause, "Do you remember when you meet me?"

"Of course," he says ardently.

A smile comes across my face; I forget where I was going with this for a minute. "When... when," I stop, trying to gather my words and thoughts. "Why did you come over to me? Like out of everyone in the diner, you walked over to me, why?"

He doesn't respond, the phone goes silent. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him that. Then again, I should've, I've always wondered why he came over and talked to me; I wasn't doing anything extravagant to get his attention. I was just a girl in the back of the diner, reading a book.

"You just caught my eye," he says and then pauses. "Everyone was so amped up about the game, and then there was you, just sitting, calmly in the back of the rowdy diner, with your head in a book. It just made me interested," he adds.

I can't deny the butterfly sensation filling my stomach. It's nice to hear him talk about me this way. I'm so used to everyone at school saying awful things about me, sometimes I forget how it feels to have people say good things.

"Interested?" the vain part of me asks, wanting to hear more about how he thinks of me.

"More curious than interested," he says, fixing his words.

"Curious?" I question this time, genuinely wanting to know what made him curious.

"I was initially curious about what you were reading. Then as I was coming up, I saw that you were reading Hamlet, and from there, I liked you immediately."

I laugh and then say, "Why?" Usually, guys shy away from introverted girls whose heads are stuck in a book.

"My sister." I cold draft comes through my room now that he mentions his sister, every time he mentions her, my stomach drops to the floor. "Willow read that book a lot; she was obsessed with it. She was always so captivated with death and intrigued with Everything evolved with it," he says, giving me more insight into who his sister was. She kind of sounds like me, she sounds a lot like me actually. I wish she was alive; I would've loved to meet her. The fact that she was interested in the topic of death makes me think me and her would've been good friends.

Not many people like to sit around and ponder about death and what happens after death. Most people shy away from the thought of eventually dying. Sometimes I think people think if they don't think about it, then it will never happen.

"Not many girls have their head buried in books... especially a Shakespeare novel," he continues. "So I guess seeing you reading that book kind of reminded me of her and then when I saw you... I thought you were pretty cute," he adds.

And there goes that butterfly feeling again, my body shivers at his words. "I thought you were cute too," I remember when he first walked up to me; he was charming and handsome; I never expected a boy like him to come up to someone like me.

"When I talked to you, and you looked up at me, I just knew," he says, and my breathing stops. Oh, know. This sounds too familiar.

"Just knew what?" I say slowly as if I don't know where this is going when I do.

He sighs and says, "I don't know." if he was in front of me, I'm sure he would be shaking his head right now. "I was a different person after my sister died, when she died, a part of me died. I was never the same." I wish he was here; if he was here, I would comfort him the best way I could; "Everything after her death just felt completely wrong. I felt like a fucking box of puzzle pieces, knocked off a shelf" His simile makes so much sense. That's exactly how I would describe my life perfectly. "When I saw you, though, something just clicked. It felt right instantly, those scrabble puzzle pieces seemed to instantly be put back together," he says compassionately. "They were put back together by you. When I'm around you, it feels right, I feel better than how I feel when I'm not around you." He laughs, "If that makes sense."

"It does," I assure him, I feel the same way. His words make my eyes sting; just hearing him express his feelings to me makes my body light up like a match. I didn't know he felt this way about me; I mean, I knew he had to feel some way about me, hence why he's my boyfriend, but him saying the words out loud to me makes a big difference.

"I haven't felt this way about anyone," He adds, "Ever" with emphasis.

"Me neither." He's the first boy I have ever felt this way about; he's the boy who showed me that not all males are asshats; he's the first boy I can say I completely trust. A part of me wonders if that was his way of saying he loves me, maybe me saying "Me neither" was my way of saying I love him.

Was it?

No, no, it wasn't. I don't love him. I don't. I'm not saying I will never love him; I'm just saying not right now.

The chemistry Caleb and I had is undeniable; there's something there, of course, I would be stupid otherwise. I don't know what will happen a week from now, two weeks from now, a month from now. Hell, who's to say we will even still be together. I want to live now, but I still know how cruel this world is; I don't know my fate, but I know my karma. I've done bad things that I will have to pay for. I'm sorta happy now; I know that if I get too happy, something bad will happen, the fucking universe will take away the only good thing in my life. The only good thing being Caleb. I don't want to ruin what we have by telling him I love him; I'm not just not saying it because I don't know if I love him. But because I know if I say it out, there's no taking it back, once it's said and spoken out loud, the unseen things in this freaking universe will take him from me. I don't know how, but I know they will.

...

I knock on my father's bedroom door. "I'll call you back." I hear him whisper. He must be on the phone. I wonder who he has to call back. Is it my mother? Was he talking to her? The door comes flying open, his breathing is heavy, and his eyes are wide; he looks like he just got caught doing something.

"Are you okay?" I ask, laughing at his scarred face.

"Yes," he says, straightforward. "Do you need something?"

I roll my eyes. "Can I borrow your car?" That's what I initially came here for.

His head jerks back at my question. "Uhh no," he says sternly; he turns around and walks over to his dresser.

I follow behind him; if he was turned around, he would see the frown on my face. "Why not?" I whine.

"Uhh, you have a car," he says sarcastically. "Remember the 80,000 dollars car I bought you?"

"I'm out of gas."

He closes the dresser draw and then turns back around to me. "What?"

Did he not hear me? "I'm out of gas," I repeat.

"How are you out of gas? I gave you money for gas." I detect frustration in his voice.

I look past it and say, "I know, but I forgot to get some." He continues to stare at me; I don't have time for this. I'm supposed to be on my way to Jessica's house, right now. "Are you even going into work today because if your not--"

"There's gas in the garage," he states, cutting me off. "It's on the shelves in a red fuel container."

"Uhhh, okay." I turn around about to walk away.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I have to go to work on my senior project."

"What time will you be home?"

I turn back around and shrug my shoulders. "I don't know."

"Well, don't be out too late," he instructs.

I press my lips to get and give him a quick smile before walking out of the room.

...

I park my car across the street from the dinner; I texted Jessica and told her I was on my way. I thought it would be nice to bring us coffee while we work—the light signals for me to walk, my feet move across the partially damp pavement. I don't remember it raining last night, but I guess it did. I pull the door to the diner open.

As soon I do, my eyes immediately go to the crowd sitting at the first booth. They land on the blonde girl in particular. Ashley. She looks up at me and then smiles, not a genuine one, of course, but one like she is about to say something rude to me. My eyes scan the room for Ryder; I don't see him, though he could be in the bathroom maybe. I feel like he is here.

It feels like it has been forever since I have seen him. Even though it's been only two days.

The glass door shuts behind me; I walk over to the counters, and the familiar waitress takes my order. She says it'll be ready in about ten minutes. I nod my head but hesitate before turning around; the diner got silent when I walked in. Everyone's eyes followed me as I walked over here. The place is still quiet, I'm used to this; people always cease whatever they are doing, to watch me, and whisper.

But something is different. I don't know what it is, but I have a weird feeling. I feel a warm body behind me. Someone clears their throat; I know exactly who it is; I slowly turn around and see who I already had pictured in my mind. "Where are you going?" Ashley asks. I stare at her face. She put on a face full of makeup to hang out here.. at the diner; she is wearing a yellow top with blue jeans. Her hair isn't in its usual high ponytail; it is down hanging on her shoulders.

After realizing I have just been staring at her for like a minute, I open my mouth and say. "None of your business." Some of the people sitting in the booths let out small laughs. I didn't say anything funny, but I guess they found it humorous.

She narrows her eyes and presses her lips together. "You don't have to hide where you are going, we all know."

"Yeah yeah i'm going to a boy's house, I get it." I roll my eyes; that rumor is getting pretty old.

"I wasn't going to say that." she spits out. I raise my eyebrow gesturing for her to say what she was going to say, to tell me whatever crazy rumor they have come up with now. "We know you're going to therapy." My lips part, and my gut twists tightly. "The mental health clinic down the street," she adds with a smile on her face.

A sharp pain shoots through my head, I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out; I look at the people behind her; some stare at me; others whisper, some laugh. They know everyone knows. "I don't know what you talking about," I say, trying to deny the truth that she clearly knows.

Ashley lets out a disgusting, sadistic laugh. "Yes, you do. Stop lying," she shouts. "I mean, we all knew you were crazy, but the fact you actually go to a mental health clinic." she laughs again before she finishes that sentence. "It's pathetic."

Matt walks up to us, my eyes flash up to him, his blue eyes are glued on me. "Ashley, you can't sit up here making fun of this girl. Let's not forget she's suicidal." I swear I can feel a knife stab me right in my stomach.

Ashley's mouth falls open. "Your right," she brings her hand to her shaking head. "I forgot she was at that house of crazies right outside of town." House of Crazies, the name the locals call the facility. "You know you didn't have to lie about why and where you disappeared to junior year. Shit, we probably wouldn't have messed with you so bad if we knew you were going to kill yourself over it."

"I just can believe you actually tried to kill yourself," Matt says with a joking overtone. His eyes look down at my dangling arms; I bring them up to my chest and fold my arms, hiding the scars even though they are hidden by my long sleeve shirt. "Then again, your crazy, so I guess your liable to do anything."

She looks up at him. "No, no, she isn't crazy," Ashley corrects him ."I think mentally unstable is the correct term."

My eyes fill with water, and instantly a tear falls from my left eye, my head drops down, and I watch as it rolls off of my face and falls to the checkered floor. I can feel Matt and Ashley's eyes burn into me; I look back up at them. Ashley smiles; how could she be smiling right now? How could anyone smile at watching a person being crushed? She opens her mouth and says, "You didn't actually think he would keep your little secret, did you?"

Tears flow faster out of my eyes at the revelation. I turn around and rush past them, pushing past the people that were crowded around us. I run across the street without even checking to see if; the light was green.

My door unlocks when I get close to my car. I hope in and shut the door hard. I let out a painful scream; I hit the steering wheel repeatedly until my hands start to sting from the impact. I bring both of my hands up to my face and just cry.

I knew he would; I knew he would tell them, it was just a matter of when. I actually thought Ryder had a little decency in his heart, a little compassion to keep my secret. But why would he? He owes me nothing. He's like them; he's like all of them. If anyone was going to change, it wouldn't be him. He runs this whole shit show. How could the ringleader ever change?

He said he didn't want to be responsible for my death, but yet he told them. Does he really hate me that much? A small sob escapes from my mouth. I bawl my fist tightly; Even though I want to, I won't go home and cry and feel sorry for myself.

He's not going to get away with this. Even though all I want to do is cut my wrist, curl into a ball, and die, I won't. I won't do that. Killing myself won't help anything. I will not give him the satisfaction of controlling my life like this.

I will not kill myself over Ryder.

I stop crying and wipe my tears and look into the mirror. I don't even recognize myself.

My sad, filled eyes are no longer filled with hopelessness and despair; all I see is anger. A girl who is no longer letting the actions of everyone else decide her fate controls her life.

I grab my keys and start the engine.

...

I thought I would've changed my mind by now; I just knew that I would've driven home instead of coming here; I pull up to the front of his house. I know this is his house because his distinctive car is parked across the street. Without thinking, without giving my subconscious a chance to say turn around and go home, I hop out of my car and storm up to the front door. My hand shakes as I reach up to ring the doorbell. After ringing it, I wait, the rage-filled thoughts fill my head. No one comes; I ring the doorbell again and wait.

My body bounces a little as I anxiously wait for the door to come open. It doesn't. I know he is here, his cars right across the street. Maybe he saw me come up, and being the coward he is, he decided not to open the door to the girl whose life he's ruined.

I wait for a few more seconds and then think back to something Kenneth said yesterday, I would do anything to get Ryder out of the pool house.

Poolhouse? I back away from the door and walk to the side of the house. There is a decorated pathway leading to the back of the house. I follow it, it leads me to an enormous backyard. It doesn't even look like a back yard; it looks like a freaking park, with a pool in the middle. Their backyard is much bigger than ours; it looks new also. I wonder if this is where my mother got the idea to renovate ours. She did most likely; she and Evelyn are close. I can see them sitting down at the patio tables, flipping through magazines, sharing ideas, getting inspiration from each other.

I notice the small white glasshouse across the yard from the pool. Wrath and fury fill my body again; I march across the concrete, pass the patio tables, and over to the small house. I can see straight through the glass, a girl with black hair is sitting on the edge of the bed with a white towel wrapped around her body.

Ugh, of course, he's here indulging in pleasure, while my world is crumbling down around me because of him. God, he really is selfish. I press my lips together in anger. Maybe I shouldn't storm in there. "Do it." my subconscious says, encouraging me to give in to my rage-filled actions. I listen to it and continue on; I open the door without even knocking. The startled girl quickly gets up off the bed, still holding the towel, and turns around, her eyes are wide open. I squint my eyes and tilt my head to the side; it can't be. It is. "Katie!"

(WOW! ik ik its long, this is like a triple update, I didn't want to make more chapters, this book will only have 105 chapters so that's why I made this one long, the last two will be this length also.

Okay, so how did you guys like this chapter? Also, I'm curious, how do you guys think this book will end? I already know how it's going to end *sad face, tears, screams out loud...but I'm curious to hear your theories!)