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Love is friendship set on fire.

– Jeremy Taylor

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Hers is now complete, as of 27th of August 2016, and I have noticed that a lot of people - especially in this chapter - have always commented on how their eye colours are somehow worse than Rose.

I got people telling me their eyes are black, or like a dull brown, and I just wanted to put this message right here for future readers and say that, your eye colour is the most beautiful colour there could be.

Darkness is an abyss that can consume, and light is a radiance that can overwhelm.

So, all of your eye colours - dark or light - is absolutely beautiful, and I cannot stress on this enough. Rose is going to go through character development for this issue, but please, remember that you are just as beautiful - and I cannot wait for the day you get to see it too.

♡♡♡

Waking up every single day at 5 in the morning was tedious least to say.

All Rose could really say about the matter was that it seemed like this regular scheduled programming was somehow integrated into her genes. No matter how many times she would try and get at least ten more minutes of beauty sleep, her body simply just said a simple Not today sweetheart, and her brain would go whacky with overanalyzed thoughts and paranoiac ideas.

Oh God I am going to be late for school and Chase isn't going to pick me up and I am going to fail Physics oh my God God God –

Rose had a tight schedule, and Lord knows she would do anything just to keep things in check.

5:07 am and Rose already had her sweater draped across her figure; a small frown on her lips as she rubbed her sleep deprived eyes and grumbled at her reflection in the mirror.

It was only the second day of school and from years of experience, Rose knew that teachers seemed to be extra cranky and irritated than normal with their perky riddles of Guess who will be doing pages 1 to 13 as homework tonight? or tight lipped smile of Remember, this will be on your final just as everyone rustled out of the room.

A tired sigh slipped her lips as her fingers were already weaving through her hair; pulling her blonde locks back into her signature high ponytail in reflex.

Rose had already given up on any cute or interesting hairstyles ever since fifth grade, because waking up at five in the morning did things to her – which included a raw dispassion for her hair – and she has come to peace with it.

Rose decided just to swipe a little mascara on her eyes; nodding at how her long lashes made her eyes look somewhat interesting – considering they were brown. Not even hazel, just a brown.

She smiled to herself before applying a bit of lip balm and hauling her bag over her shoulder, another exasperated sigh leaving her lips.

Here goes nothing.

♡♡♡

The clatter of pans and her Father's sparkly blue eyes greeted Rose in the kitchen.

Her father's mouth was curled into a grin as he slowly advanced towards the fridge, sending Rose a small wink in response.

She playfully shook her head as she eyed him, a grin plastered on her lips. "Don't do it," she whispered, her eyes flickering to her mother for a brief second before they settled on her Dad again.

He shushed her with his index finger; the stars still in his eyes as he tiptoed right behind Helen, and Rose could see him hold his breath as he casually opened the refrigerator.

Peter grasped the carton of milk in his hand, and even though he made it look so casual, his fingers were trembling. He gave Rose one last goofy smile before untwisting the cap and –

"Peter, another carton of milk before you come home, please."

That made Peter choke out the milk, splattering it all over his pyjama shirt and pants.

"I see Helen," Peter said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he coughed, "you're trying to kill me now." he stated, his blue eyes flickering to his wife – who was washing the dishes right behind him.

"It's not called killing honey," Helen replied, her eyes flickering toward her husband for a moment, a smug grin on her lips, "It's called teaching a lesson." she said, draining the sink as she dried her hands off.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah whatever." He said before he wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her head. "Good morning," he said quietly, giving Helen another smile.

"Good morning," She replied, smiling as she kissed his cheek before she pushed him off – making Peter dramatically pout – and took the breakfast plates and served them on the table.

"Morning Rose," Her mother said, smiling as her hazel eyes twinkled. "How are you today?" she asked, placing Rose's plate right in front of her before she took her seat.

Peter joined them too, smiling as he took his wife's hand in his while he started to drink his coffee. "Second day of senior year huh?" he asked, smiling at his daughter, his blue eyes glimmering in delight.

"That was the year I met your mother actually," Peter said, nodding his head as his eyes flickered to his wife. "She gave me such a hard time." he said flatly, earning himself a smack on the head.

"Please Peter," Helen scolded, "I know how much you loved senior year." she said, quirking an eyebrow at him, as though challenging him to object as she sipped on her tea.

"I didn't say I didn't love it," he muttered, returning his gaze to a smiling Rose. "It was when I got all the ladies." he said, grinning as he saw his wife roll her eyes.

Helen let out an annoyed sigh as she placed her cup back down. "Your father didn't know how to talk to a girl back then,"

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "But –"

"Frankly I didn't even know you existed," Helen said flatly, shrugging her shoulders as she took a spoonful of eggs into her mouth, "so don't go around telling our daughter lies."

Peter then took a bite of his toast. "I wouldn't call it lying," he said, grinning at his two girls. "It's called sounding believable," he reasoned.

Helen faced palmed. "He was much worse back then,"

Rose let out a little laugh. "So Dad you were –?"

"He definitely wasn't on the football team," Helen interjected, "but he wasn't a nerd either." she continued, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked for an answer. "He was just there."

And Rose couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her lips.

"Alright then," Rose said, grinning as she took a glance at her annoyed father. "I have to get to school now," she stated, getting up as she shoved a granola bar into her backpack.

"Chase is still taking you?" Her Mom asked sipping on her tea as Rose nodded her head. "I feel like we are bothering the poor guy."

Rose shook her head. "We're not Mom, he insists," She then slung her backpack over her shoulder, kissed her Mom and Dad. "Alright, gotta run."

"Please tell me you don't believe what your mother said about me,"

But not before hearing her father.

♡♡♡

It was getting aggravating to say the least.

Fifteen minutes and Rose was already freezing in her spot; soft vapors of her breath slipping past her lips every time she let out another irritated sigh as she mumbled I am never taking a ride with this moron ever again, Christ.

She rolled her eyes when she could hear his car horn, fiddling with the straps of her bag as she sent a glare towards her idiotic friend.

"I know, I know," Chase said as he lowered his car window. "Sorry I am late, but hop in and we can talk." he said, offering her his smile – one where her teeth shone and eyes glimmered.

"You're an idiot," she muttered darkly, snickering as she got in the car and buckled her seat belt. "When will there ever be a day when you come on time?" she asked, her eyes settled onto his blue ones.

"That would be the day when someone could wake me up more efficiently," Chase shrugged, starting up the car as he already begun driving. "But my car rides always pay off don't they?" he asked, winking before focusing back on the road.

"Yes, because apparently I have no other mode of transportation," Rose grimaced, placing her back pack on her lap as she fiddled with the strap of her seat belt. "I could go on my bike," she suggested, watching as a grin made its way to his lips.

"But you don't," he remarked, flickering his eyes to hers for a moment before taking a U turn. "Because I know how much you love these." he smirked, chuckling as he flicked some of his chestnut hair out of his face.

"Yes because I just love leaving my warm home and having to wait on the side of the road for fifteen minutes in the freezing cold," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "because what is there not to love?"

"That's the spirit," Chase cheered, grinning as they could see the outline of the school. "And besides, it doesn't take that long to get here anyway." he said, rolling into the school's parking lot as his blue eyes scanned for an empty spot for his old, beaten up truck.

"I am not even travelling in style," Rose said, giving Chase a look, but a small grin was curling on her lips. "I mean look at this thing – it is horrendous."

Chase shot her a warning look. "Don't take about Chelsea like that."

Rose snorted. "Because she is the only girl willing to be seen with you in public."

"But alas, here you are now."

"I am your best friend you moron, that's different."

Chase rolled his eyes while he parked Chelsea in place; muttering a quiet I am not humiliating in public alright, before he hit the brakes and unbuckled his seatbelt. "I know you love me," he said simply, grinning once more.

"I think we've established that when I was nine years old," Rose said, wiggling against her seatbelt to get it off. "And your seatbelts feel like glue,"

"That means they're working, you moron," Chase said before he opened his door and exited the car, watching as Rose struggled with her rusty door knob.

"I swear Peters," Rose said, "Lana doesn't appreciate your car one bit."

"I think I got the message when she stopped letting me pick her up," Chase replied. "You chicks have such high expectations like what am I supposed to do? Buy a Ferrari to please your standards?"

"No, but at least get a car where the seatbelts don't feel like glue,"

"It means it's working, and that it is safe," Chase said painfully.

"Yeah sure, safe," Rose said, tightening her jacket against her chest.

"You cold?" Chase asked, already going on back and opening the creaky hood of the trunk. "I think I got a spare jacket around here –" He then started rummaging through the multiple items. "– somewhere," he muttered, earning a small smile from Rose.

"Don't sweat it," She said, shrugging.

"You sure?" Chase asked, "You're all good?"

"All good," Rose replied, nodding as Chase closed the hood of his car.

Chase let out a tired sigh, running a hand through his brown hair. "You know," he said, "if you had allowed me to come over yesterday –"

"You would've actually done your Physics homework?"

He smiled sheepishly at her. "And have a Harry Potter marathon," he added.

"I don't even take Physics," Rose reasoned, her bag already against her shoulder, "and we have Study Spree Saturdays, anyway."

Chase gave her a look. "Do you really think one homework session per week is enough for a miserable student like me?"

"You aren't that bad Chase," Rose said, "even though you completely forgot that kinetic energy was even energy, but hey, we all make mistakes."

"That was one time," Chase replied.

Rose just grinned. "And so was the time you mixed up the pancreas with the diaphragm,"

"One time,"

♡♡♡

The clock was ticking slowly in History class, and by now, about 75% of the students were quietly dozing off while 20% were just staring into their notebooks, letting their minds drift them into another world, while the other 5% were taking notes.

And Rose was amongst those 5%.

Mr. Tom looked at the class up from his glasses. He cleared his throat before saying, "And class, we have new students coming in during this class," His voice held a sour tone, and Rose knew it from the way he was sneering.

He was a grumpy old man – and that was putting it nicely – and he was a substitute teacher that always managed to teach in the most aggravating way possible; always muttering a Stupid kids, under his breath as he wrote on the board, or shouting incoherent words during his random outbursts that all everyone could do was stare and stay quiet.

Rose knew that he was a good man deep inside, but with the amount of homework he was giving them – he wasn't even their real teacher for Christ's sake – made Rose want to stuff his guts full of lead.

Quiet groans and muffled screams echoed through the room as Mr. Tom explained the importance of Belgium in the Second World War, shooting students subtle glares when he noticed how no one was copying the dates he was so painstakingly writing on the board.

"Remember you little brats, all these dates are going to come up in pop quizzes, so don't come crying to me later when you see that big, fat F on your sheets." he said, lips pursed as he just added more pointers and notes on the board.

"Technically speaking, you're not even our real teacher," A guy from the back commented, a scowl on his lips.

"And that's five points off your monthly report, Mr. Pierce," Mr. Tom said curtly, shooting the dark haired boy a glare – to which he just responded to with a casual shrug.

Chase let out a low chuckle beside her, mouthing a small Smartass to Rose, to which she smiled to, mouthing back a Shut up you moron.

But soon enough, the door slammed open, immediately catching her attention as her brown eyes snapped towards it.

She could identify those blue eyes anywhere.

No.

"I see you're a bit early," Mr. Tom low-key spat, his agitated eyes lingering on the boy at the door. "Please enter young man, and stop making a God damn scene."

The boy merely brushed him off, closing the door behind him as he made his way into the class, his blue eyes flickering to Rose's for a split second.

She could've sworn she saw him sneer.

"Okay punk, I don't know what your deal is, but we normal humans like sitting, so please take a seat to Mr. Pierce in the back," Mr. Tom said warily, the board marker shaking in his tight grip.

Even Chase looked at the boy skeptically; an eyebrow quirked as his blue eyes shone with confusion, and a second later, he gave a quizzical look to Rose, to which she just shrugged to.

The boy stood out – scarily – amongst the class of teenagers; his entire jet black outfit made eyes practically bulge out of their sockets as he settled his black bag right under his desk before he took a seat, crossing his ankles – which were also in black VANS.

With all black and absolutely no print or graphics whatsoever, he did a good job at dropping jaws and flinching shoulders within fifteen seconds of him being there.

Rose watched as all the girls around her grimaced, looking at him oddly; their puckered lips in a flat line while their squinted eyes were trying to get a better look at him.

Maybe it was because of how tall he was, or maybe because he wasn't that muscular – or because he was that scary – but Rose couldn't tear her gaze away from him either.

Chase was the one who snapped her out of her daze, mouthing a egotistical Take a picture, it lasts longer, to which she gave him a dirty look for and continued scribbling down History dates that Mr. Tom so insisted they all did.

Just as Mr. Tom was going to add that date Hitler became Chancellor of Germany, the bell rang, and Rose had never seen a class become empty so quickly.

"Just a moment you little brats," Mr. Tom said, his lips pursed. "English students are having their class now with Mrs. Lory here – not Chemistry because the lab isn't free today," Mr. Tom said, and Rose thought he ate a sour candy from the way he grimaced. "And I am not to take any responsibility if you punks decide to ditch English – I have delivered the message." He compiled his things back into his briefcase before muttering an annoyed Class dismissed, before leaving the room.

The chair next to her screeched. "Alright, I'm tired," Chase let out a small yawn before patting her head – Chase no my hair Jesus – before grinning. "Did you really copy all that crap down?"

Rose frowned. "As a matter of fact, I did, and it is going to help me pass."

Chase shrugged. "I'm so done with school," he told her.

"Chase it is literally only the second day,"

"Exactly."

Rose let out a small laugh as she kept her notebooks back into her bag before taking out her English ones, already frowning with the amount of History homework she has.

"We might have a Study Spree Saturday tonight, because there is no way in hell I am doing all this history alone."

Rose gave him a look. "You are going to, whether you like it or not."

She won't deny taking a glance at the boy bathed in ebony at the back, and it was hard trying to stare at him when he looked like he wanted to burn her alive.

Chase rubbed his eyes. "I can't believe they cancelled lunch," he said, the most pain in his voice Rose has ever heard. "That shit is probably illegal somewhere."

"You ate half my lunch during our free period," Rose said, giving Chase a quizzical look.

"Why are you so surprised?" he replied, twirling his pen between his fingers. "I've been doing that for like seven years now,"

"How could you possibly still be hungry?"

"I'm a growing teenage boy,"

"And I'm a growing teenage girl,"

"I am not handling you showing me attitude young lady, stop this behavior right now."

Rose actually laughed. "You dork,"

"A hungry dork," he corrected.

Just then, Mrs. Lory entered the class; her bag hanging by her side as she gave Rose a small smile – to which Chase mumbled Teacher's pet, and Rose actually smacked him in the shoulder for.

By now, a couple more students have entered the class and took their seats, and Mrs. Lory already had a board marker in her hand. "Good afternoon class," she said, a light tone to her voice as she smiled. "Welcome to English."

"As you all know, I encourage pairs in my class," she said, a few groans already echoing around the room, "so I kindly as everyone to shuffle your seat partner."

Chase leaned to Rose. "I think she's doing this because we were partners for two years straight,"

"And you copied all my homework,"

"What? We're partners,"

"Partners, not copycats,"

Chase just gave her a sheepish smile. "It was good while it lasted."

"Tell me about it."