1.Vivace

xxx

Friday, December 30th

Right, so this is going to be my very first entry in this diary – I've lost count of how many I've been though considering how, as Ma puts it, I "go through these things like our family owns a paper-processing plant".

Which we don't, obviously. We'd have a lot more floor space if we did. But that's just my Ma trying to inject some of her strange parental humor into how I'm always writing, I guess.

What can I say? I've been keeping diaries ever since I discovered how to properly hold a pencil. When I was younger and bored out of my wits (which was often), I'd always be found scribbling on any surface I could get my hands on, which was what prompted Ma to get me an outlet for all the words I couldn't keep bottled up inside of me. Though back then, I'm pretty sure most of what I wrote ran along the lines of "I am Kim, I like cats" or something of the sort.

I've still got my old diaries hidden in a shoebox at the back of my tiny cupboard. They range from glossy and bright pink to battered, worn calendar diaries, but they all have one thing in common: they revolve around the Boy-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned. I've endured too much of that "unrequited love" rubbish already, don't you think? It's time for a fresh start.

I have to say, this is an absolutely brilliant idea. Fresh starts are good. They're great. You get to press the proverbial reset button and move on with your life, instead of spending your days pining over a boy who doesn't even know you exist.

In fact, I think I -

Friday, December 30th, later

Got interrupted there. That was Charles barging in earlier, asking me to – well, demanding, really – help him find the keys to his Danny's car. Honestly. You'd think being an older brother meant that he'd be more responsible and not toss his keys all over the place, eh? Nope. We ended up searching through the whole house for a little more than an hour. I've got to admit, for such a tiny house, there sure are a lot of nooks and crannys. We finally spotted the keys tucked under the sofa, which took a bit of lifting (and dropping, on my part). He eventually went on his way without so much as a thank you– "That's for letting go on two and dropping that damn couch on my foot!" – which I have to say, was entirely not my fault. I've got zero upper arm strength and he knows it.

He's not the worst of the lot, though (oh, if only). There's Danny, who's the oldest. He's pretty much been the head of the hosue ever since Da died. He's got muscles like you wouldn't believe – and well, coupled with his height, I think it's safe to say that we couldn't look more different if we tried. Danny's 6'3". I'm 5'4". I suppose if I hoisted car parts around and stood in the sun all day, we'd look a little more similar. Which would never happen. I have the grace of a wounded hippopotamus when it comes to lugging heavy things about.

Then there's Benjamin, but we all call him "Benji" or "Ben" (Lucy, his girlfriend). He's the second oldest, and he's got about a million part-time jobs on his plate. Gas attendant, waiter, bartender – you name it, he's probably worked it. He's hardly home most of the time, which is kind of to be expected.

Right now, it's only me and Charles in high school, still. Charles is a year older, a head taller, and on the football team with the Boy-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned. He's graduating at the end of the term and starting work right after. I can't even think about going to college, either, not even with a scholarship. It just isn't an option. Ever since Da… well, we've kind of been mired in debt. We've moved from house to house at least three times in the past four years. And Ma's bad leg makes it hard for her to travel to work and stuff, so it's been pretty much up to us to keep the finances afloat.

I know Danny wants me to go to college, though. He's always saying that I'm the brains of the family; he's even banned me from getting a part-time job so that I can concentrate on my schoolwork. But between you and me, it just isn't going to happen. I don't want to leave La Push. I've told him that a million times, but he's got the whole "overbearing, pushy older brother" thing down to an art.

I'll tell you, it's no picnic having three older brothers breathing down your neck. Loads of people who don't know what it's like think it's a blast – that I'm so lucky to have older brothers doting on me and wrapping me up in pretty lace and ribbons. It couldn't be any further from that. It's just… unfathomable. Inconceivable. Ludicrous.

I'm not allowed to wear skirts. Or halter tops. Or wear bikinis at the beach on those rare sunny days (not that I'd have much to hold it up with anyway). I've never been on a date with a boy, because they all inevitably end up bailing at the last minute, or develop sudden, unexplained bouts of food poisoning. By the fifth time it happened (a very choked up Tommy had called to announce that he was moving off the rez), I'd pretty much resigned myself to an eternity of spinster-dom.

And while I know I should be mad at the monster trio for it, I'm not. I've never really likedliked the guys that have asked me out, since it's always been… well, him. Jared.

So much for a fresh start.

Dammit.

Tuesday,January 3rd

The winter break finally came to an end as of yesterday. Back to school. Fun times.

Dragging myself out of the house today was no easy feat. I'd pretty much holed myself up for all of the break to avoid getting blasted by the icy wind. I love this place and all, but GOD, the weather. It never stops raining here, and we rarely (if ever) get any snow. It's just one long, cold rainy day after another.

Danny gave me and Charles a lift to the tribal school today, and you could tell he was glad to finally have me out from the pile of blankets on the couch. It's the middle of a freezing winter. Just because he's got all those layers of muscle to shield him from the abominable cold doesn't give him the right to be all high and mighty with me and my blanket-hermit ways (he didn't say it out loud, but I knew he just wanted me off the couch so he could dig for the remote and switch the channel to some boring sports match or something. Well, not in this lifetime. I've taken to deviously hiding it in my huge, misshapen woolly jumper, so he probably wouldn't be able to find it if he wanted to. Ha!)

Going back to the school had its merits, I'll admit. For one thing, I got to catch up with Jamie. She looked exactly the same as when I last saw her before winter break, which probably isn't saying much – it's only been a couple of weeks, after all. Even as best friends, we never do much outside of school, simply because there isn't that much two teenage girls can get up to in a town this small. Everyone knows everyone else. You couldn't keep a secret without half the rez finding out first.

Not that the closeness is a bad thing. For one, I get to spend all of my classes with the Boy-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned, though he doesn't exactly know I exist yet. But no matter. Just sitting next to him is enough for me. And of course, the view. The view's fantastic. My desk's next to the window and his is right next to mine, so I get to tilt my head in his direction and privately admire him under the pretence of looking at the teacher.

It's not stalkerish, I swear. If you saw the face on this boy, you'd be staring, too.

…Well, Jamie says I'm a little biased. But who is she to judge? Honestly. She hasn't been piningafter the boy for years. She doesn't knowwhat it's like to be absolutely in love with a boy who's been oblivious to her affections for ages.

Anyway, he was looking a little pale today. It's kind of hard to tell with russet skin, but I've been staring at the lad for so many years that I've got the exact shade memorized. (Yeah, I know. I need a hobby.) His brow was all sweaty and it kind of looked like he was on the verge of passing out at times during class – thank goodness that didn't actually happen, but still – and he looked… sick. And I felt queasy just watching him.

I wanted to voice my concern, but I… I just couldn't. I haven't talked to him in years, even though we've basically grown up together and we share all our classes (the school's so small that there're only 20 people in my year alone). A million possible ways of asking him if he was alright ran through my head for that agonizingly long class, all of which followed with various horrifying scenarios where I made an absolute fool of myself in the process.

I ended up not saying anything.

Afterwards, at lunch, I asked Jamie about it. She gave me the oddest look.

"He wasn't feeling well?"

"Well – yeah. He looked really pale, and he was… I don't know, shaking, or something…"

Jamie rolled her eyes. "You were probably imagining it. You're obsessed enough as it is." Glimpsing my furrowed brows, the slightest of smiles tugged at the side of her mouth, and she elbowed me playfully in the ribs.

"Ouch!" I yelped. The girl's got some sharp elbows. "What was that for?"

"That," she retorted, looking not at all repentent for someone who'd just grieviously injured my person, "was for acting like a lovestruck fool. Jared's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

I gaped at her as the lunch line inched forward. "I am NOT," I hissed, surreptiously casting my eyes about in case anyone was within eavesdropping range, "acting like a lovestruck fool. I'm just… concerned! …As a friend!" But even as I faltered on the words, I knew I was lying through my teeth.

Jamie knew it, too. Never one to let go of this kind of thing, she pounced like a cat sighting a yarn ball in its moment of weakness. "A friend, huh?" She paused for effect. "And I suppose since you and Jared are all buddy-buddy, you guys have weekly sleepovers and heart-to-heart chats on the phone all the time, hmmm?"

…Is it normal to want to throttle your best friend?

He didn't come back to class after lunch, though. I turned around, briefly, to check if he'd changed seats without me noticing. Nope. He wasn't there. And Jamie was giving me an exasperated look from the back of the classroom. Oops.

I hope it's nothing serious, though. Maybe he's caught the winter flu that's been going around. Or it could've been something he ate. He's a big fan of fast food – all those burgers can't be good for him.

God, this is turning out to be another one of those entries. Blast it all.

Something's just occurred to me. Hang on a sec.

Tuesday, January 3rd, later

Well, I've confirmed it. I dug out some of my recent diaries from the box and re-read some of the early entries. They all mentioned "fresh starts" and how I'd stop obsessing over the Boy-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned – and they were all very rousing entries, detailing on how I'd focus on other things to write/obsess about… only to revert back to the all too familiar worshipping vein a few entries later. I've got his last name scrawled all over the margins of some pages; I think I'd just die of embarassment if anyone found out.

Argh. I'm so pathetic.

Tuesday, January 3rd, even later

You know what? I'm not pathetic! I'll like whoever I damn well please, even if he doesn't like me back for now.

One day, I'm going to marry this boy. I'm sure of it.

Wednesday, January 4th

He didn't come to school today.

I think I actually paid more attention in class than I have for years. I took detailed notes like you wouldn't believe.

That's probably the only silver lining, though.

Friday, January 6th

Still not in school. Byron Keller's saying that he's got some highly contagious infection, or whatever.

I hope he's feeling better.

Monday, January 9th

Still not in school.

Has the boy DIED and dropped off the face of the planet??

God, I hope not.

Was the only one to score full marks on the lit pop quiz today. Couldn't bring myself to care.

Tuesday, January 10th

I've given up all hope. I've also learned something from all of this. If you lower your expectations and expect nothing, you will never be disappointed.

It's been a week since I last saw him. I honestly didn't think it'd been that long, but well… it has.

And you know what? I'm alive. Just peachy. In fact, I think I've evolved to a newer, better version of myself, like in those cartoons where a turtle turns into a bigger turtle with water jets, or whatever. Except I'm not really a turtle, nor do I want water jets of any kind strapped onto my back and argh this is a terrible analogy so –

Kim Connweller, version 2.0. I'm an overachieving, straight A student, and I certainly don't know anything about obsessing over silly, oblivious boys who know nothing of my sheer awesomeness.

Fresh start, here I come!

Wednesday, January 11th

Went to school today, as cheery as can be. Jamie gave me a very skeptical look when I told her about the new and improved me, which had me a tad offended, I'll admit. Aren't best friends supposed to support you through thick and thin? Through ups and downs? Through sickness and in health?

I informed her of my master plan about moving on from my whole Jared phase, and she laughed. Laughed! Like I hadn't just bared years and years of accumulated inner pain for her to see.

"Kim," she said in a tone of voice that suggested she was talking to a particularly slow five year old, "You say that now, but you'll probably fold like a cheap umbrella a few days later. It's happened before."

I sputtered at this. "It has not!"

She raised a knowing brow (I hate it when she does that. Seriously). "Oh? What about that time you said you were going to take up knitting –"

"I did, didn't I?"

"- you knitted half a sweater and ended up tossing it into the trash a week later. And that time when you said you were going to learn how to play the cello –"

"The teacher was picking on me!"

" – did you ever get a refund for the cello? Oh, I can't remember… And the time when you said you were going to go jogging every morning to increase your stamina –"

"I got lost in the forest! It was traumatizing!"

" – I don't think thatone even lasted two days. And there was that time when –"

"Jamieeeee." I whined. "You're supposed to be behind me on this! Why're you being so mean?"

She laughed again, and gave me a pat on the head, grinning. "Someone's got to tell you the truth, sweetheart. We can't all live in fantasy-land here."

Well. The nerve. Fine, I'll show her.

Fold like a cheap umbrella, indeed. Pfft. I'm a strong, independent woman. I don't need some guyto make my life complete. I'm so going to make Jamie eat her words when the week's over with. And then she'll have to beg for my forgiveness for ever doubting me, eh? No more of that "knowing eyebrow-raise" rubbish. Soon, it'll be my turn to act all high and mighty while she comes to me for relationship advice, and I'll get to do that lone eyebrow-raise thing! Ahahahahahahaha –

Oh. Time for dinner.

Thursday, January 12th

I…

Oh god.

Thursday, January 12th, later

This is – I mean, I…

He just…

Thursday, January 12th, LATE

Alright, I think I've stopped hyperventilating.

No, wait –

Okay, I'm done. But I suppose I'd better keep the paper bag close at hand while I write this.

I went to school today, still determined to carry on with Operation Fresh Start (you know, so I could be cool and lord it over Jamie, officially the worst best friend in existence) and – oh, I don't know, my brain's an utter mess right now – he was there. In his seat. In all his oblivious boy glory.

Except it wasn't Jared. Not the Jared I knew, anyway. This Jared was… well, huge. He looked huger than Danny, and I didn't think that was possible. At first, I'd thought that it was Paul sitting in Jared's seat – Paul's a senior and he recently had some sort of crazy growth spurt that made him look like he was seventeen going on twenty-seven – and some dusty part of my mind was going, oh no, Paul's been pushed back a year and now I'm going to have sit next to him for the rest of the term, what should I do?

I moved closer. And my heart almost stopped.

It was Jared.

Even with his added bulk (oh my god) and height (oh my god) and sharpened, harder features (oh my god oh my god), it was still him. The Jared I had grown up with was buried somewhere underneath all that muscle and oh my god he's caught me looking and my legs feel funny and –

I don't know how it happened, but the instant our eyes locked, my knees gave out on me. And if that wasn't embarrassing enough, he caught me. I have no idea how he made it over so fast, either. It must've taken it less than a second for him to cross the length of the classroom to where I was to grab me by the waist. Or maybe my mind was so fuzzy that I had a warped sense of time, or something. There's no way he could've moved that fast, which must either mean that my knees buckled in slow motion (oh please no), or that my brain isn't processing signals properly. I'm leaning towards the latter.

Anyway. I… I don't exactly remember what happened exactly after that – everything was in a bit of a blur at that moment – but I do remember warmth. Not just regular body warmth, either.Furnace warmth. The next thing I knew, there were people all around me, closing in, their worried voices a faint echo in my ears. All the blood rushing to my head was making me a tad woozy at that point, and I'm pretty sure I didn't need a mirror to know that I resembled a ripe tomato.

"Kim? Kim!" Vaguely, I could make out Jamie's familiar (albeit blurred) face at the periphery of my vision.

I blinked dazedly, and just like that, the fog cleared.

And I realized two things.

One, that I was in the arms of a boy – a boy who was Jared but not Jared at the same time – and two, that I must have had the knees of a sixty year old woman.

I have to admit, the latter upset me more than it should have.

It was around then that the mortification kicked in. I was caught in an ungainly semi-sprawl on the classroom floor, with some sort of red-hot poker burning through the clothes on my back. And in front of Jared, of all people. I had to get away.

Desperately willing the flush in my face to recede, I screwed my eyes shut for a moment and considered my options. Since it was highly unlikely that the ground was going to open up and swallow me whole, I decided that I'd get up, laugh it off as low blood pressure from skipping breakfast, and be done with the matter.

Unfortunately, that decision was taken out of my hands entirely when I found myself lifted (oh god, vertigo), bridal-style, off the ground and oh, the walls are moving and where are we going?

"I'm okay," I remember saying belatedly - a little foolishly, I suppose, considering the classroom and all the people in it were in the distance and were quickly moving out of earshot. I tried twisting about in my captor's arms, but he had quite the iron grip. I realized, then, that said captor was Jared who was not Jared, and I freaked out.

"Ja- Jared," I choked out, and for a moment, his step faltered as he dropped his gaze to mine. His eyes were like hot coals – I don't know how else to describe them. They were the same brown eyes that I remembered from all those years of growing up together in this tiny, tiny little town, but they'd changed, somehow. There was a trace of… madness, I think, in them, like there was something inside trying to get out, like…

I sound crazy, don't I? This is crazy. I can't believe I'm putting this to paper. I've pinched myself on the arm at least twenty times since I've started, and the pain is real. The bruises are real. Which means this is real. Which means I've officially lost it.

While I'm still on my crazy high, I'm just going to get the rest of this out and off my chest so that I can… I don't know, wake up tomorrow and find out that everything was a dream. Yes. I'll do that.

… It turned out that he was taking me to the infirmary. The nurse sprang out of her seat as soon as she saw me (though, for some strange reason, my eyes were seeing her move at normal speed – I reckon my brain finally decided to mosey off its lawn chair and get some proper work done for once) and made a move that looked like she wanted to help me onto the one of the cots. Jared made some sort of weird, strangled noise at the back of his throat that had the both of us look at him, startled. Wordlessly, he carefully deposited me onto the closest mattress.

The nurse opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. It was all too much and I felt increasingly claustrophobic with her sudden proximity; Jared's immovable form crowding me on one side and hers on the other.

"There's nothing wrong with me," I said quickly, before she could start barraging me with potentially embarrassing questions in front of the boy I'd fantasized about marrying for so long. "Really. It's just the low blood pressure. I've had it for years."

Her lips thinned with something that looked like tolerant amusement, before she gave me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure that's all it is, dear. Now, why don't you lie back and relax for a bit."

At that, I felt Jared tense next to me. Which definitely made it harder to relax.

I gave the nurse my best pleading look, putting all my heart into imploring get this boy out of here before you start with the inquisitionand by god, I think the woman actually got the message.

She then proceeded to shoo a very reluctant Jared out of the room. Though I don't think "reluctant" might be the right word for it. The boy was near impossible to get rid of. It took a lot of threats and a final, "You don't want to be upsetting the patient, do you?" to make him leave. I stared at my hands, my face burning as I felt his gaze on me before, finally, the door shut.

At his departure, I let out a breath of relief I didn't know I'd been holding in, sagging into the misshapen pillow.

"Now, then," the nurse's dry voice snapped me back to reality, and I shot her a somewhat guilty look as she settled into a chair next to me. "Would you like to explain, Miss Connweller?"

And so I did. I gave her my formulated excuse – low blood pressure in the mornings, and all that, and I think even without telling her the actual reason she knew, like she was some sort of psychic or something. Weird.

The lovely psychic lady did take my blood pressure, which 'lo and behold, really was a tad on the low side. The look on my face when I saw the reading must've been priceless, because she snorted.

"Drink more fluids," she said, in final parting, as she helped me off the cot. "I'd suggest you go home early for today, Miss Connweller – I'll ring in with your teachers and have them know. Can someone come and pick you up?"

"Oh," I said, hand already poised on the doorknob and ready to bolt. "I – er… yes."

And with a final rushed, "thank you", I opened the door and walked straight into a wall.

"GAH!" was my immediate response as I reflexively pressed my hands to my nose. I'd broken it once before, falling from the porch after an incautious step on a rainy day, and I'd been paranoid about breaking it again ever since. When I finally looked up, my palms still cupping my nose protectively, I saw Jared.

He was the wall.

A very stricken-looking wall.

"Everything all right out there, Miss Connweller?" The nurse's concerned voice reached my ears, and I hastily turned around to reassure her in a slightly muffled voice that yes, I was fine. Except that I really wasn't, because Jared was still there and why on earth hasn't he gone back to class yet?

"Er," I said eloquently, doing an awkward sort of side-shuffle to close the door to the infirmary behind me, and an even more awkward backstep so that I wouldn't have to crane my neck up… up… and up… to meet his gaze. "What's… up?"

(Yes, I know. My brain short-circuited. My nose was throbbing. I think those are pretty valid excuses, given that I'd just walked into the Quileute version of the Incredible Hulk.)

"Kim," he said. I never knew how much emotion could go into my name, but there it was. For a moment, we just stared at each other, with me gaping like a fish out of water and him staring down at me, his breaths so quick that it was like he'd just finished running a marathon.

"I… I need to go home," I said finally, more to break to uncomfortable silence than anything else. When it didn't look like he was going to say anything to that, I hastily looked down and caught sight of his fists, clenching and unclenching in agitation by his sides. For a gut-wrenching, heart-pounding moment, I wondered if he was mad at me.

I didn't know where else to look that wouldn't make the situation even more awkward than it already was, so I settled for staring at my feet. His feet, rather. God, even his shoes were huge. Was it something in the water on the rez?

"Um." My voice came out as a squeak; I was that nervous. "I guess I'll… bye." But before I could so much as turn away, his voice burst out and stopped me in my tracks.

"Wait."

I couldn't have left if I wanted to.

One of his hands moved up to his hair – a nervous habit of his I'd noted over the years –and something in me settled. This was the boy I'd fallen in love with. Sure, he was a little (a lot) different on the outside, but underneath that hardened, scary exterior, it was still him.

"Would you like a ride?"

My brain went into overdrive. "But… don't you have to go back to class?" Inwardly, I winced. I sounded like a truant officer. With the knees of a sixty year old woman.

"I…" – and I was promptly rewarded with the incredibly novel sight of seeing the boy of my dreams at a loss for words – "I… no." He cleared his throat. "My day just cleared up."

God, the boy is such a liar.

Well, two could play at that game. "My brother's coming to pick me up," I said, a little stiffly. To be honest, the less noble side of me was screaming, "Accept his offer, you ninny! You'll never get another chance like this!" But I had some modicum of restraint left, I suppose. The very notion of being trapped in an enclosed vehicle with him was making my stomach do somersaults and tumbles that would've put any Olympic gymnast to shame.

His eyes darkened slightly, though the expression on his face didn't change. "I'll wait with you until he comes, then."

Drat. He's good. "You… you don't have to."

"I want to."

No, you don't! "I can wait for him by myself. I'm not some… invalid you have to look after."

He looked a little pained at this, but didn't relent. "I'm going with you."

Oh, for crying out loud. Pursing my lips in barely concealed annoyance, I spun on my heel and walked purposefully down the hallway, my boots making satisfying clack clacksounds against the tiled floor. I rejoiced when I didn't hear the sound of footsteps behind me, then –

"You know, the main door's the other way."

Heat flooded my face. Without missing a beat (though it's kind of hard to tell with these things – I don't have much of a sense of rhythm), I whirled around and strode in the other direction. As I passed him, I thought I saw a trace of a grin on his face, though he tried to hide it when our eyes met.

Argh! "Listen," I said a little breathlessly, trying to speed up the pace to throw him off, "You really don't have to do this. I'm perfectly –" ew, don't step on the gum "- capable of walking myself to my brother's car."

God, he was keeping pace effortlessly. I needed to throw him off.

"Look!" I halted in my tracks suddenly, feeling the impact of his body slamming into the back of mine in a rush of heat and heart-gripping dizziness, before his arm shot out to keep me from pitching forward on my face. Whirling around and trying to ignore the sensation of his hand burning a brand onto my arm, I gazed up at him with the widest eyes I could muster. He just looked confused.

"Look," I repeated, pointing somewhere to my left, and in that brief, fleeting moment that his head turned to follow the direction of my finger, his grip loosened. I grabbed the opportunity and launched into a full-out dash towards the doors, heart pounding crazily in my chest with my hair whipping about my face as I finally found myself panting and heaving like a winded cow in the middle of the street. Ha, I bet that showed –

"What are you doing?"

No. NO. This wasn't happening. There was no way.

While I gaped at him dumbly and what I'm sure was a very attractive postion to behold – doubled over in exhaustion while he just stood there, not a single hair out of place and not even breathing heavily, damn it and why was he laughing?

"Would you just let me give you a ride home already?" he grinned, and his smile was like the sunrise.

I didn't have much left in me to keep protesting after that, to be frank. I'd already expended too much energy in my tiring (however brief) sprint, and his smile was making my legs feel like jelly.

I ended up following him at a snail's pace to the carpark – my calf muscles were screaming in agony and I barely had enough breath in my lungs as it was – it certainly didn't help that Jared kept looking over his shoulder at me, as if to make sure I wasn't going to make a run for it again.

Pssh. Like I could. Run for it, that is. Not that the thought didn't cross my mind. The mind was certainly willing, though the flesh was… inadequate. Way too inadequate.

He opened the truck door for me and waited patiently for me to crawl onto the passenger seat. When he was satisfied that I was buckled in, he shot me another heart-stopping grin and slid his keys into the ignition.

We rode in relative silence for the journey, with him asking the occasional, "Do I turn left here? Or up ahead?" But other than that, I was able to lean back and try to catch my breath over the loud thudding of my heart.

It wasn't long before we finally pulled into the street where I lived. When the house came into view, I felt my stress levels skyrocket. Oh god. What if Danny was home? Or Benji? What if they saw Jared dropping me off and got the wrong idea? The last thing I needed was some testosterone-fueled brawl taking place on the front lawn.

"Jared," I blurted out, making him hit the brakes in surprise. My body jolted forwards slightly, though the belt kept me in place.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes widened slightly with worry as he raked his gaze quickly over my body before returning them to my face. I felt my cheeks warm in response. "Are you alright? Is something wrong?"

"This is my stop," I said faintly, avoiding his gaze. "I… thank you. For the lift."

I watched with detached interest as the large hand resting on his thigh clenched into a fist once more, making the veins on his arm pop. It was terrifying and fascinating at the same time.

A lengthy pause followed, and I found myself holding my breath for a reply.

"Do you want me to walk –"

"No! I mean, uh, you don't have to. I'm fine. Really. Thanks for the ride. And uh… thanks. Yeah." My words came out in a rush, and I wanted to slap myself for babbling like I did – there went my mortification quota for the day. I was clearly on a roll.

Before I could make an even bigger fool of myself, I hurriedly let myself out of the truck, stumbling a little when my boots hit the pavement. It took me three tries to get his truck door shut (I'd like to say that I managed it all on my own, but Jared must have taken pity on me after witnessing my pathetic attempts and reached over to pull it shut from inside. Argh).

I had to resist breaking out into a flat-out run to the house, though I'm sure that my nerves must have showed, somehow. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head as I fumbled with my keys and let myself in, finally collapsing in an over-stressed, exhausted heap against the door as I let it close swiftly behind me.

And that, diary, is why I've decided to switch to being home-schooled. I'll bring up the topic with Ma tomorrow.

Good night.

Next:Allegretto