Chapter 1
(Jade)

"...4...5...6..." I am standing outside Tori Vega's house giving my boyfriend to the count of ten to come out here after me. "7...8..." there is a commotion coming from inside. I frown as I continue. "9...10."

There is no sound from the other side of the door now. My heart lurches with a miserable flop as realization hits with a practically audible thud. Beck is not coming. Suppressing tears, I climb into my black Mitsubishi Eclipse and speed away grimacing at the screech of tires as I burn rubber on the Vegas' long driveway. Beck and I are over. That's all I can think about. He has ended us. Our two-and-a-half year relationship is over in ten seconds. I never thought we were that fragile.

At home I stomp up the stairs to my room, ignoring the sounds of my brother and sister arguing down the hall. The black walls of my spacious bedroom are covered in pictures of me with Beck, smiling, laughing, and kissing. I want to tear them all down and burn them. But I don't. Instead, I walk into my bathroom and let silent tears roll down my pale cheeks as I stand over the polished marble sink. I let out a low moan and push my dyed black hair out of my eyes. The streaks in my hair - green this week- a bright contrast to the smooth, ink-colored waves. It is a Thursday. A real suckish night to break up. I'd have to face the crowds tomorrow. Somehow, I'd stay strong.

Hours later, after sobbing enough to fill a bathtub, I feel drained enough to sleep. My bed feels cold, hard, and unforgiving as concrete. I know any sleep I get will be brief and troubled.

When morning finally comes I wake up before my alarm and dress quickly. The house seems to echo with my every move. Walking to my jewelry box, I open the drawer containing my other eyebrow and nose piercings. Gingerly, I slide the studs out of my eyebrow and nostril. Placing them in the drawer, I carefully extract two silver rings I hadn't worn since I started dating Beck. Inserting them through the holes, I remember how much Beck hated them. He said the studs were less distracting when he looked at my face. I hate to think that my original favorites are being worn out of spite. I hate Beck. I hate his face. His voice. I hate his body. The body I had pressed against often. The muscular form of comfort I had sought for more than two years. I hate that these thoughts bring tears to my eyes. I hate the tears as they fall, smudging my thick but subtle mascara.

I hate the world.

Entering the school presents a new challenge: my friends. Cat walks up to me, silent and teary-eyed, and offers a hug. I decline with a shake of my head every bit as silent. She makes a pitiful little choking noise and I give in, knowing it will reassure her. After she walks away, Tori, of all people, approaches.

"You OK?" she asks, always the concerned little saint.

"Fine," I snap. "Go away." opening my locker, I reach into a box and pull out pair of scissors. After putting some books away I slam it shut and drive the scissors into the metal of the door. One more pair to jut threateningly from my territory. I turn to find Tori still standing there, frowning sympathetically.

I groan at her. "What do you want, Vega!" I yell finally, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

"To help," she says quietly.

"Listen carefully, Tori," I begin tensely. "I don't want or need your help. If you do not go away the next pair of scissors will be in your head."

She sighs and walks away. I storm angrily to my A.P. Calc. class. It is in a far and remote corner of the school. By the time I reach it the first bell has already rung. My hand touches the door handle and I hear a noise behind me. Whirling, I almost smack straight into Beck. The jerk doesn't even take this class! He followed me.

"Hey," he mutters softly, unable to meet my gaze.

"Yeah, hi." I snarl, glowering fiercely. I have no trouble meeting hiseyes. "What is it!" I am shouting now. Soon the teacher will come out to stop us.

Beck gently eases my hand off the door and moves me further down the hall. "Are you OK?" he asks kindly, now holding me by the cheeks and staringinto my eyes. It almost feels like he wants to kiss me. I almost want to kiss him.

"Yes!" I insist forcefully. "I'm fine! Why does everybody keep asking me that? Do I look like some kind of infant that needs to be comforted? I can handle this myself and the last person who needs to care is you." I load as much menace in those words as I can, desperate to show him that he hurt me. That I hate him and want him to leave. Pulling away, he starts back down the hall. I want to call after him but anger gets the better of me. Class is half over when I finally sit down at my desk in the back corner.

The rest of the day is beyond painful. I cannot explain the relief I feel as I get into my car at the end of school. The house is empty when I get home. Both of my parents won't be home until around six. My brother is waiting at my sister's track practice. The middle school and elementary school share a property. I struggle through my calculus homework at the desk in my bedroom. Having missed half the lesson talking to Beck, I have no idea how to do anything. It makes me hate him even more which is stupid. I don't care.

Not noticing the three hours go by, I am shocked when I hear a car door slam in the driveway. I also hear stomping outside my door signaling that my thirteen year old sister, Ivy, and eight year old brother, Andy, are both home and going downstairs. For once, they did not barge in here as soon as they walked in. I get up slowly and walk downstairs. My father stands in the front hall, taking off his suit jacket.

"Jade," he greets me, wincing at the sight of the rings in my face replacing the studs, which he had gotten used to after three years.

I just glare at him before charging into the family room and turning on the TV. Every channel reminds me of Beck somehow. I am silent through dinner.

Lying awake in bed, all I can see behind my closed eyes is Beck. I am on the verge of screaming by the time I decide to talk to someone. I rule out my choices one by one in the car as I drive. My last option infuriates me even more but I set my jaw and stomp the gas, running through red light after red light. Finally, I pull down the familiar long driveway.

Sighing despondently, I knock hesitantly on the Vegas' front door.