I'm seventeen now and I've had my fair share of problems in life. I've turned the darkest corners and hit the deepest of rock bottoms. So sitting in front of you and telling my story, it's not going to be easy.

But judgments aren't to be made here.

I was told this is a safe place.

All I have to do is recount everything leading up to this point in my life, right? Well let me warn you, my story is not short, and it is most definitely not simple.

YEAR 1

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Ten years. That's how long I've known Derrick. He kind of stumbled into my life. Not in a drunken blur, but rather in a moment of frantic searching.

What he was looking for, I wasn't sure. In fact, I'm not exactly sure even till this very day. I just know that the look in his eyes, they were set on something.

"Hi," that was the first word he said to me. It was simple, short, yet it made me catch my breath.

"Hi," I replied, my eyes as wide as they would open and my pupils as still as our empty surroundings. "Are you looking for something?"

"What?" He immediately blinked away the look of panic from his eyes.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion but didn't question him further. That was the first of many mistakes I would make when it came to Derrick Harrington.

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Turns out he was new to the neighborhood.

The second time I saw him was when our mothers were getting acquainted over tea. Mine had invited his to join her for the afternoon, why he had tagged along I didn't know.

I will admit it was beyond awkward, but we somehow managed to make conversation. He told me about all his adventures. How he had lived on every continent in the world at one point. His fights with lions, play dates with kangaroos, games with penguins and everything in between. The seven year old me soaked it all in, completely infatuated with his stories. Neither of us knew it then, but that was the day he drew me in. And one fact of life: once Derrick Harrington sucks you in, you can never be spit back out again. He's a black hole.

YEAR 2 to YEAR 6

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From that day on, every time we bumped into each other we would talk.

He would tell me stories and I would laugh.

I would teach him all the shortcuts in our small town and he would take diligent notes in his mind.

Before long, he was the one leading me through confusing, zigzagging streets and secret pathways on wild adventures.

YEAR 7

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I still remember the last day of summer before eighth grade.

It was humid out. The sun was towering over us in a blaze of anger and glory.

The heat didn't affect him, but it sure as hell bothered me.

He tried to calm me down but I wouldn't relax. I mean how could I when my face felt like it was going to slowly burn away?

I kept complaining, for hours on end, it seemed. When he had finally heard enough of my obnoxious cries he got up from his recumbent position on the ground, grabbed me by the wrist, and pulled me along on yet another one of our crazy adventures. "You're really annoying, you know."

Even though I knew he was joking, something about how he had said it was off beat. He didn't look at me and laugh but rather breathed it under his breath. I didn't think much of it, but in reality I should have known the second his hand touched mine that everything was going to change.

First, he took me to Ole' Charlie's Ice Cream Parlor so I would "shut the hell up." He paid for the both of our French vanilla sugar cones.

After we finished, he led me to the old arcade located in between a dark alley and a candy shop. It was one of our favorite getaway spots. We always went there when we wanted to let off steam about the problems in our lives.

The owner, Mr. MacIntyre, was a slovenly man in his late fifties with a messy beard and a golden heart. He was the type of person you would find handing out twenty-dollar bills to the needy even though he was barely able to feed himself. We liked him, and sometimes, even if we didn't need to get away from our lives, Derrick and I would go down to the Arcade to visit him. We knew he got lonely sometimes—what with the slow business and runaway bride.

That day, we played hoops and talked to Mr. MacIntyre until the sun went down. I swear I laughed more in that one afternoon than I ever have in my life.

When it was time to go home for dinner, Derrick took me by my hand again, this time with his fingers woven into mine, and led me through the busy streets.

But instead of taking our usual route home, he steered us toward the west and took me to a morass surrounded by lush greenery.

It was there, in that new surrounding filled with dirt and nature, that he leaned in and kissed me. Not on the lips, but on the forehead. A soft, gentle, completely innocent peck.

We were both silent for a while. Standing, entirely still, in the muddy swamp. I was confused. Why had he done that? What did it mean?

Instead of explaining himself, he just took me by the hand again and escorted me safely home like he had done all the previous nights before.

As we walked in silence something to my left caught my attention. I looked over to see a gleaming star that shone brighter than all the others in the misty sky. "Sirius," I whispered, "it's the brightest star in the sky. My mom says, as long as you can find that star in the sky, you'll know that the universe is at peace and everything is okay." I said it so quietly I didn't even know if Derrick had heard me.

When we got to my house we awkwardly said our goodbyes and I watched him walk off in the direction of his house down the street.

Looking back now, I was definitely right about one thing that day: everything would change, and sadly, it wouldn't be for the better.

YEAR 7.2

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We all know that people express themselves differently.

On the first day of eighth grade, I was introduced to a completely new form of self-expression. One I didn't know existed until Derrick demonstrated it to me.

He ignored me. What he was trying to express, I'm not so sure. That I was embarrassing to be around? That we were no longer friends? That he hated me? Whatever it was it was inevitable.

When I approached him to say hello, he inched away and glared at me. It was one of those looks of suspicion that girls usually aimed at strange men in the park.

Of course, I wasn't discouraged. Maybe he was sick and didn't want me to get too close. "Hey Derrick," I waved with a huge smile on my face.

Again he inched away.

"Are you OK?" I took a step forward.

"No, I have to go," and with that he ran for his life down the courtyard all the way to the F building. That ignoring act he had going, it bothered me, and I'm pretty sure he knew damn well how badly I wanted him to stop.

It was like that for the rest of eighth grade. By the end of the first week, I had stopped trying to approach him. By the end of the second, I had stopped trying to catch his eye. And by the end of the third, it was almost as if I never knew Derrick Harrington at all.

I was back to a life without Derrick.

And to tell you the truth, I felt like I was dying everyday. Just because he stopped talking to me didn't mean I was out of the black hole. I was still stuck in a spiral of infatuation. More than ever.

YEAR 7.7

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On the last day of school, I went with a friend to visit Mr. MacIntyre in the Arcade.

Fine, I went with a boy. Kemp Hurely to be exact. I guess it had been a long time since Mr. MacIntyre had seen me at the Arcade with anyone. I still continued visiting him, even without Derrick. He never questioned it though; knowing it probably didn't come with a good story. But on that day, when he saw me with a boy, curiosity just got he best of him.

"Well hello ther' young lady, who migh'chu have ther' wit'chu?"

I introduced Kemp as my friend but that didn't fool Mr. MacIntyre. He knew we had a "thing" going and he let me know by dealing out an ungainly wink.

Kemp and I hung around for a little, playing a few games of table hockey, pinball, and whack-a-mole. We steered clear of the hoops—I know it sounds stupid but I had wanted to save it special for Derrick if he ever decided he wanted to talk to me again.

Some other kids from school and around town were there. It was probably the busiest I had seen the Arcade in a while. Kids were constantly pilling in and out through the wide-open garage doors.

When Derrick walked in with a group of boys and girls from our grade, I was definitely caught off guard. I felt like I hadn't seen him in years when in fact it was only a couple of weeks.

Our eyes met for a few seconds, but like every other time before, he was the first to pull away.

For the rest of that night, I tried to keep my attention focused on Kemp. He was funny, cute, and extremely clever.

By the time eleven o'clock curfew came around most of the kids had gone home and the Arcade was left at its usual state of a little under ten people.

Kemp got me to go outside with him. He offered me his jacket like any other boy on a date would and I gladly accept like any other girl on a date would.

Somehow he managed to get me into the dark alleyway next door to the Arcade. We kissed. He tried to get further but I stopped him. He didn't try to persuade me, it seemed he was perfectly fine with just making out. After we both had enough, he walked me home and kissed me goodnight one last time.

That night, before I got in bed, I brushed my teeth. Twice.

I had just kissed a boy. My first real kiss. Gone, just like that. No moonlit lake, no sparking Ferris wheel, no fireworks. And worst of all, no Derrick.

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Author's Note: Yet another new story but GOOD NEWS: I've already written most of this one so I will update it regularly! Isn't that exciting? Please remember to comment with notes!