One

I sighed and tightened my fingers on the steering wheel of my truck, pulling out of the driveway of my grandparent's house. I looked at the large amount of homework I still had to do and then glanced at the clock on the dash of my truck, sighing again. My head throbbed with a migraine that I'd had for three days and I brushed my bangs back from my face, wishing I had somewhere to go other than the shitty little room at the women's shelter that I'd been given out of pity since the building was rarely used.

"It's okay Melanie. I understand your situation."

I scoffed at how pathetic that sounded. Just because I didn't have a job or people that were completely 'with us' didn't mean I was equivalent to a baby—I could take care of myself. As a seventeen year old girl, I was completely capable of being just as independent as an adult. But, when I pulled into the parking lot of the women's shelter, I felt myself start to crack.

I needed a job. I needed somewhere that I could call home. I needed a way to get people to quit looking at me with that look so full of sympathy that made me want to claw their eyes out. I just needed something. Hopping out of my truck, I grabbed my heavy backpack and slung it over my shoulder, groaning internally at the strain it put on my already sore muscles.

Pushing the door of the women's shelter open with my shoulder, I flicked on the light and rang the bell that sat on the reception desk, something I did out of habit more than announcing my arrival. I'd never been to another town or another shelter for battered women, so I didn't know if they looked like cheap motels, but ours did. No one but me was there, because everyone else in the town was just perfect.

Of course, no one was actually perfect. A lot of abuse went on in White Pine Bay—one of the most screwed up towns in existence—but people just kept quiet about the horrific things that went on in their homes. It was frowned upon if you weren't the perfect little family that everyone expected you to be. The town was anything but perfect, though. The entire town's economy depended on something that was completely illegal but very profitable: weed. There were huge fields brimming with the plants and large warehouses dedicated to processing it and getting it ready to be sold. I'd always thought that people grew weed in their closets at college—like my brother that no one talked about any more had—but no, in my town, it was just out in the open with a couple of guys holding guns sitting around, drinking beer, waiting to tell people to buzz off.

I locked the doors of the shelter and went back to my room, yawning. School had been awful today, but at least there was a new kid to take the attention off of me. Now people were talking about his big nose and how he already seemed to know Bradley, the biggest bitch of the school, which was odd, because she didn't associate with you unless you showed potential to be popular. The boy wasn't stellar, but he was better looking than most of the guys that went to my school. Maybe she'd seen something in him that the rest of us hadn't.

My room was the smallest in the shelter. Its bathroom was disgraceful, with a shower so small I couldn't even bend over to shave my legs and a toilet and sink even smaller. There wasn't room for a mirror. Instead, there was a tiny one that hung on the back of my door. This place was supposed to be homey, but it made me uncomfortable. I guessed it was just from the silence that was always pressing against my eardrums from the amount of empty space that took up the air around me. In a normal town I suspected that a shelter for battered women would have merry people working and down-trodden occupants that were just trying to get back on their feet and get away from the abusive dickhead in their life, but this one was empty and had only one woman that 'worked' at it, which meant she sat at home and took calls for a local business and didn't ever think about the shelter or the people that may need it.

I stared at my backpack, which was sitting next to my door, and sat down on my small bed. I needed to do my homework, yes, but I also needed sleep. Sleep was vital, homework was necessary for good grades and a good college application, which would lead to a good job, which would result in me being able to hand off my work to other, lower paid people, allowing me to sleep more. If I stayed up all night now, I'd be able to make it up in the future while I rolled in the cash. I weighed the pros and cons in my head, all the while glaring at the backpack that was resting against the flimsy wood door of my room.

"Screw it," I muttered, kicking off my shoes and my pants. Homework was bullshit that was just forced upon us teenagers because would couldn't do anything about it. I figured I'd regret not doing the math problems and essay and science paper that was due tomorrow, but, right now, I couldn't give a hairy rat's ass. I pulled a fluffy pillow down to my head as I burrowed down into the blankets that I was provided, closing my eyes. I fell asleep without even turning off the light.

XXX

"Are you kidding me Melanie?"

I rolled my eyes and huffed, clutching my books tighter to my chest. "I'm sorry. I was with my grandparents last night, and…I was just busy."

"Listen, your grades are getting inexcusable." Mrs. Hallow said, standing to her full height of four feet and eleven inches. With her light brown hair in loose curls and her eyes done up like a movie star's, she was anything but threatening. Still, I stayed quiet and respectful. "I understand your whole home situation, but that's not a good enough excuse. There are plenty of other kids that have to go through the same types of things. You have such great potential, colleges love you, it's just your grades…"

"I know my grades suck. Sorry. Once things get settled down, I'll be able to focus more on schoolwork."

"Is it your job that's taking up so much time?" Mrs. Hallows asked, leaning against her desk. I shook my head.

"I haven't gotten one yet. No one seems to be hiring."

She pursed her lips, looking over my face, obviously thinking. In a slow tone where every word was weighed with deliberate care, she said "You have some classes with Norman Bates, don't you?"

"Yeah," I said, remembering the new boy that I'd seen yesterday. "Three."

"Well he just moved here with his mom, and they bought the old Seafairer Motel. I'm sure they could use someone to help them clean it up and get it started. What do you think?"

"I don't know him very well," I murmured. "Wouldn't it be weird asking a kid that I haven't said a word to for a job?"

"It's your choice, but, from what I've heard, he's a very nice boy. He's on the track team, he's intelligent…I feel like you two could be friends."

"Uh, okay. Thanks." I turned and walked out of the classroom, shaking my head. It seemed like Mrs. Hallows was trying to hook me up with Norman Bates, and I didn't like that. As I walked away from the classroom, I tucked a piece of loose hair behind my ear. I glanced down at the floor when I passed a group of senior guys, all of whom immediately started talking about me in a way that would make any feminist go and give them a piece of her mind. Even though I wore leather jackets and combat boots and black jeans, I wasn't a badass that could hold her own in a fight, so I didn't plan on going back there and shouting at them. Besides, they taunted me to get a reaction, and I didn't want to be a show today or have new gossip flying around about me for the next three weeks.

I hated walking through the hallways. If you didn't have any friends, school was hell. My locker was in a secluded hallway that was usually occupied by the rare new kid or the drug dealers and the drug buyers that didn't want to get caught by the teachers. Luckily the drug deals had almost stopped around the school; too many kids had gotten caught and they were now scared to do it here. It wasn't like they had to go to jail because of it, though; their parents had enough money to buy out the police station, and none of their babies had anything bad on their records.

Like I said before, this hallway was also for the new kids. So, as I walked down it with the intention of getting my keys and ditching so I could get some more sleep and make my grandparents dinner, I saw the new boy, Norman Bates, standing at his locker with a lost expression. I knew how he felt—this school was full of rich kids that looked down upon anyone that didn't own at least one item from Prada or Coach. It took all my courage and a fair amount of trash-talking myself about how stupid I was being for feeling terrified of meeting a new person, but, after taking a deep breath and shushing the voice in my head that said he'd laugh at me and make fun of me, I walked over to him.

"Hey," I said, internally wincing at how weak and scratchy my voice sounded from lack of use. He looked up from the books that were stacked up in his arms and gave me a small smile. His eyes went to the small ring that was in my right nostril, but he looked back in my eyes after a split second of staring at my piercing. I was used to it, everyone looked.

"Hi,"

"I'm Melanie Fitzgerald," I told him, offering my hand. He shook it, nodding. He had huge hands that were surprisingly soft.

"Norman Bates."

"So…you're new?"

"Yeah. My mom and I just moved in a couple days ago,"

I nodded, wishing I was better at making conversation. "That's cool. I feel bad for you though,"

"Why?" he looked confused, and, I have to admit, it was kind of cute. He had big greenish-blue eyes, and his pale skin and dark hair was alluring. I knew now why all the popular girls were taking such an interest in him: he was actually quite attractive.

"This town is shit."

Norman laughed, looking down when he did like he was scared. Scared of me? I chuckled to myself; I was anything but intimidating. I wasn't good looking, I wasn't witty or sharp-tonged, I wasn't dressed in expensive clothes, I was just an average looking girl in average clothes talking about average stuff. "It's not that bad."

"Well, it's not the worst, that's for sure. What's your next class?" I asked, changing the subject so he didn't think I was a complete bitch that only talked about negative stuff. I'd met people like that before and they never had many friends.

"Um, English," he told me, glancing at his schedule. I had to same class, so I smiled.

"Is it cool if I walk with you there?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice." Norman smiled. His smile was very nice-looking, and I was starting to feel like I wanted to get to know him, which was unusual for me. I clutched my books tight and walked to our classroom with him, smiling and making small talk. It was odd, talking to someone so easily. I was actually enjoying myself, which hadn't happened in years. It was a welcome change in my routine.

XXX

The only reason I was at the party was because I supplied beer. The twenty-three year old guy that worked at the one and only liquor store in town had a crush on me and would let me buy a six-pack whenever I wanted, or, in cases like these, a huge amount of every type of liquor I'd been requested to get. The whole mansion that the party was held in smelled like weed, and people were grinding on each other under the black lights that hung on the ceilings. I saw a girl smearing neon paint on some random jock's chest, giggling like an idiot. I guessed she was high on something, but I didn't care. I was here to get my money, and that's all I wanted.

Bradley, of course, was the only one with enough cash to pay for my stuff. She smiled at me as she handed me two one-hundred dollar bills, nodding to me perkily without saying a word to me. I glowered but moved on, stuffing the money into the pocket of my jeans. The bitch wasn't worth my time. People stared at me as I made my way out the door, whispering about me and my 'unstable home life', which was the thing that everyone in town talked about when the other conversations ran dry. I rolled my eyes and resisted the temptation to give a group of girls the finger as I walked to the door. But, before I left, a familiar head of shaggy dark hair caught my eye.

Norman Bates was at this party.

He looked ridiculously out of place. Compared to the rest of the guys who were wearing V-neck shirts that were tucked in at just the right spot in the expensive jeans and had their hair done so it looked like they'd just rolled out of bed after having sex, he looked like an innocent little child in his light sweater and hole-free jeans. I felt bad for him because he was standing all alone in the kitchen, wiping the top of a beer that I'd brought off with the bottom of his sweater like he was scared it was contaminated.

I walked over to him, ignoring the stares, and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "This doesn't seem like somewhere you'd hang out." I said with a small smile.

"Oh, I thought I was going to study with Bradley," he told me, smiling bashfully. "But instead she brought me here."

"Rule number one: never trust Bradley." I told him, my face showing that I was joking but my tone serious. "Did you drive here?"

"I don't have a car."

"I can drive you home, if you'd like." I said. Norman's face broke into a smile that wasn't shrouded in fear of me. He nodded, setting the beer down on the counter, and walked towards the door with me.

"Thank you. I don't know anyone here. It's embarrassing just standing in there."

I laughed, knowing exactly how he felt. "I've been there before. These parties aren't exactly that fun unless you like to get high, get drunk, and have sex in front of everyone." I looked up at him, noticing how tall he was.

"Well, I don't think it's really my kind of place then."

"Yeah, mine neither."

Outside the air pulsed with the booming bass coming from the house where the party was. A few couples were pressed up against the wall of the house, making out in a fashion that didn't look like it'd be pleasing since there was so much spit involved, and Norman and I passed a small group of people passing a joint around while one of them talked about the weather in a voice that showed he only had about three brain cells left. It was somewhat cold and a slight wind blew, rustling mine and Norman's hair. I wished I had brought my jacket because I was chilly, but I shrugged it off and decided to be tough. Norman seemed to notice the goose bumps that I was trying to ignore, though, and he promptly took off his sweater and offered it to me, leaving him in a blue and grey striped t-shirt.

"Oh no, you'll be freezing," I said, pushing his hand back. Norman shook his head and gave me another smile.

"I'm fine, really. Take it. It's a long walk down the driveway and I don't want you cold." I hadn't before noticed how soft his voice was; it made me feel inclined to take the sweater. I did and slid it over my head, breathing in the smell of it. It was comforting. I thanked him quietly, not used to someone being caring, and continued to walk down the asphalt driveway with Norman at my side, gazing up at the stars while jingling my keys.

The drive to the motel was peaceful. I played some soft rock and talked to Norman about where he'd come from and what his mother was like and his family and his favorite things. I found out that I could actually stand talking to someone in my Godforsaken town. He didn't seem to judge me like everyone else, he just talked to me. This was probably because he hadn't heard about my certifiably insane grandparents and my mom that ditched the town after being caught having sex with her boss, but I told myself that it was because he was a nice person and enjoyed being around me. He was good enough at making conversation and he was very nice and polite, which I was unfamiliar with. It was a nice change to my usual lonely nights.

"Wow," I murmured as we pulled up to the motel. It was huge and looked like something that would be in a scary movie. I really liked it and it's almost creepy feel. When Norman opened his door and lumbered out, I said a small goodbye, getting ready to pull away. Suddenly, a shriek broke the air. Norman's face when white and he turned on his heel and sprinted up to his house, his long legs carrying him faster than I thought possible. I was shocked and couldn't move, but, once that wore off, I went after him, wanting to be able to help in whatever way I could.

Of course, at the time, I didn't realize that helping the Bates out was going to change my life forever.

A/N: Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks! xxx