I walked back to my room slowly, going over the night's events again and again, processing it, digesting it, and trying desperately to believe it. To believe it all.

I was half way up the stairs (my feet were like lead; heavy and stubborn. It was a miracle I had walked that far) when the doorbell rang.

I couldn't care less. Someone else would have to answer the door. I was in no shape; I was broken and fragile.

I had thought everything out. I was going to go up to my room, lock the door, and have a nice, long, hot, steamy, alluring, satisfying, open up the senses bubble-bath. And I was going to try and forget.

So I started walking up the stairs again. I was about two steps away (two. Just two) when my mother's voice rang from somewhere below. "Lilly", she called out, addressing me. "Get the door will you, Hon?"

I stopped. I turned around slowly. I sighed in irritation, in exasperation. David was suddenly too busy. It so figured. Why couldn't Sean or Lucy get the door? Why did it always have to be me? Couldn't anyone understand what I was going through at the moment? That I was in the middle of a teenage emotional breakdown and that I just wanted to go and have my open op the senses bubble-bath?

I cursed my un-understanding family and reluctantly walked back down. I took my own sweet time though. Whoever was at the door would just have to deal with it.

Ring. Ring. (pause). Riiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Sheesh. Talk about patience. "Coming!", I bellowed.

"Lilly! Are you getting the door or not?", my mother yelled from the kitchen. (It was David's turn for kitchen duty, but he was excused this time because he had band practice and he couldn't re-schedule. So my mom took over.)

"I'm answering it.", I yelled back.

I have no respect in this house. None at all.

I turned the knob towards the right and pulled the door open. I looked up, not bothering to mask the annoyance on my face. "May I help you?", I asked the person in front of me. His (or her) back was facing me. It was dark and my porch light wasn't on. "Umm, excuse me?", I asked again.

A mop of light brown hair turned to face me. Standing on my porch, at 9:30 pm, wearing a black Abercrombie and Fitch shirt over a pair of shorts, was Luke Johnson. To say I was surprised seeing him here wouldn't quite bring justice to what I was feeling at that moment.

He pulled out his hands from his pockets and waved at me. "Hey Lilly.", he greeted casually. God even when he sounds so casual he sounds so hot.

My eyes were wide open, and I was staring at him. I knew I was staring because he brought his hand down to my face and snapped his fingers as if to say "Hello?"

"Lilly? Lilly."

I blinked once, twice. I closed my mouth and hoped to God I wasn't drooling. "Huh?", I asked stupidly.

"You, uh, spaced out."

He. Is. So. CUTE!

Stop it Lilly. You like Oliver remember?

Oliver? Oliver who?

Lillian Grace Truscott! Snap out of it. Get. A. Grip.

A grip. Right. I must get a grip…

… I must.

"Sorry. I, uh, was just… thinking. About… stuff. So, um, Luke. What brings you here?"

"Well we're about to start desert. And my mom was going to serve her blueberry custard in these weird cups she got from China. It turns out she's one cup short. She thinks she brought it over here for some reason, and forgot it. She sent me over to see if it's here."

I nodded, pretending to understand what he just said, when in reality I hadn't. I just couldn't tear my gaze away from his gorgeous face. That strong jaw, those bright Jade green eyes, that long messy hair. It was enough to make any girl swoon.

"Can I come in?" he asked, scratching his head.

I looked behind me. Come in? Hell he could move in if he wanted to.

I smiled sheepishly. "Silly me. I think I've forgotten my manners. Come on in." I opened the door a bit wider to let him pass. As he walked in, I caught a whiff of his shirt. It smelled so manly. I would have melted then and there.

I closed the door behind me and followed Luke into my living room.

"Have a seat", I said, gesturing to the leather sofa my mom wants dad to throw out. "Do you want anything? A drink? We have some Coke. Or if you prefer Pepsi I'm sure we can get it for you." I sounded like a babbling fool.

He laughed gently. "Water will be fine, thanks."

"Water it is then.", I smiled at him and ran into the kitchen.

My mom was sitting on the table, reading The Gathering. She looked up when I entered. "Who was it?"

"Hmm?". I was too busy searching for a glass I could pour water in, to answer her questions.

"Who was at the door?"

"Luke. Mom, do we have any glasses which does not have pictures of cartoon characters on them? Where are the nice blue plastic ones we have?"

"Luke? Who in God's name is Luke?" She was just not going to give up.

I stopped hunting for the nice blue plastic ones and looked up at her. "Luke, mom. Luke Johnson. He and his family just moved here from Michigan, remember?"

The expression on her face went from anticipation to remembering and finally to recognition. "Ah. Joanna's oldest son. What brings him here?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." Because I didn't. Because I was too busy picturing our lips colliding with each other.

Mom shook her head. "Oh, honestly Lillian. When are you ever going to learn?"

She walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. I followed her, with a glass of water in my hand. I couldn't find nice blue plastic ones, so I resorted in finding the next best one. A pink one with the word 'Princess' embellished on it in flowery script.

"You must be Lucas." My mom was saying, in this really cheerful voice.

'Lucas' was flipping through one of David's car magazine that was lying on the couch. He looked up and saw my mom. He immediately stood up and shook her hand. I smiled. He was perfect.

"My, what a gentleman." My mom had also very clearly fallen for his charm. How could she not? He was, after all, perfect.

"He came to get his mom's Turkish carpet." I informed my mom.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Turkish carpet?"

"Uh, actually Mrs. Truscott, I'm here to get my mom's Chinese cup. She said she had brought it over and left it here?"

"Oh. Yeah. I wanted to buy something like that so she brought one over for me to see. I'll get it for you.". She then looked at me with a smirk. "Turkish carpet, Lilly?", and she walked back into the kitchen.

I turned to face Luke, trying to not let my embarrassment show. But I could make out by the straight face he was fighting to keep, I was bright red.

"I was just… trying to… you know." Way to make a comeback Lillian.

He couldn't control it anymore. He burst out laughing on my living room floor. He collapsed and was writhing in laughter. He was clutching his side with one hand, and with the other he tried to wipe away the tears that were forming.

I just stood there, mortified, staring at him. I wanted to die. I wanted to shrivel up, and just die.

Thankfully my mom re-entered just then, saving me from more embarrassment. (As if).

"Here it is Lucas. Tell your mom I'm terribly sorry for not returning it sooner."

"Oh, that's no problem Mrs. Truscott. Thanks for this," he held up the cup, "Well, I better get going then."

I looked at my mom with a smile. To Luke I said, "I'll walk you to the door."

"Wait. Lucas, would you and your family like to have dinner with us tomorrow?", my mom questioned.

"That would be awesome. I'll ask mom. Thanks Mrs. Truscott."

"Oh, my pleasure."

Ugh, what blatant flirting Mom. Your married remember?

I rolled my eyes at my mother and turned to smile at Luke. "Shall we?"

He laughed. "We shall." And he linked his arm in mine and we walked towards the door.

As I waved goodbye to his receding figure, something strange started happening inside me. My heart began beating faster and my smile was as wide as the ocean.

I was happy, and I think I was beginning to know why…