You're a mess, I confess, I despise you in the best kind of way.

- Coco J. Ginger

Listen to Teenage Dream by Boyce Avenue for this chapter.

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At the end of the school day, the bell rings - an annoyingly loud and tedious sound that all students hate and love simultaneously.

Bags are not allowed in the library due to the possibility of theft. I always find the thought of that confusing-why steal a book when you can just borrow it and return it later? Or even better, when your parents can afford a whole book case?

I drop off my bag at the front, making my way to the fiction part of the library; the scent of the new books that were placed on display dispersing through the area, making everything smell woodsy.

Without thinking, I flick the rubber hair band on my wrist while I scour the spines on the shelves for what I am searching for, until I finally find it.

I lodge it out of its place without a second thought. The title reads A Thousand Splendid Suns, a novel I have surprisingly not read yet.

With the book in my hand, I wander around the rows of novels, trudging along the navy blue carpeted floor, until a certain spine catches my eye. I pick up the book, and read the last page. If I like the ending, I choose the book. This process continues until I have over ten books overflowing in my arms.

Tons of people shamelessly judge books by their covers. A sad confession: I judge books by their endings. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a psychotic fan of happy endings, just particularly good ones. I believe in forever, not happy endings, not sad. I love books, but the endings annoy me like a little scab you can't wait to pick.

I curve my steps into the poetry section. Recognizing a spine label, I slot out the book from the shelf. A book I have happened to read over fifty times, and a book that no matter what I did I could not seem to make sense of. Romeo and Juliet.

When I pull at the book, I find not a dark space of nothingness, but a dark turquoise eye. It blinks. I feel my eyes widen and I shakily place the book back, not wanting to see more of the blue eyed person on the other side of the shelf.

What an awkward experience.

Deciding that I'd come back another time to fetch my abandoned book, and that I have so many that they are obscuring my view and piling in my arms anyway, I stumble my way to the librarian at the desk.

He frowns quizzically at the amount of books flooding in my arms, and grins when I collapse the books onto the scanning desk. He counts the novels at an expert's pace while he piles them into a mountain of yellowed pages, and then looks up at me blankly.

"I'm afraid you've taken out over the borrowing limit, young lady," he says, and his dark skin wrinkles at the corners of his lips when he smiles.

"But you know what? I'll let it pass." Then he winks. I nod politely with a smile, and watch silently as he sends the scanner to my books, eyeing the pale pages with avid interest.

"Nice choice," the middle-aged man murmurs. When he finishes, I try my best to scoop up the huge pile, and finally succeed, taking as cautious steps as possible to my locker, which is thankfully close to the library.

"Here, let me try," a deep voice says behind me. And, in an instant, I let out a small shriek and drop all the unfortunate books on my inadvertent victim.

Praying that the books aren't damaged, I look up, and my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. In front of me is Asher Reed, and up close his eyes seem bluer and clearer than ever.

His hair is just a dark blonde mess, which somehow looks amazing and accents his tanned skin. He is sporting a cheeky grin, which defines his jawline. In his sturdy hand he is clutching a copy of Romeo and Juliet.

"I'm...sorry?" I say, but it comes out more as a question. I avert my glance from his eyes, which seem to capture my attention a bit too much for my liking.

I bend uncomfortably to try and pick up the collection of books scattered unevenly on the floor, as my knees touch the ground. Unfortunately, he bends too, squatting with ease. When I look up I have an uneasy view of his eyes that seem to connect unerringly with mine.

I blink, and I feel his hand graze up along mine bringing along a sense of nausea and intense electricity that cracked violently under my skin.

"It's fine," he says, as he stands abruptly, and I notice my pile of books sitting perfectly in his hold. Calm, noiselessly, he places the books neatly into my aloof locker, while I stand there the whole time and try to figure out how on earth it is possible for someone to possess eyes so very very blue.

He turns and faces me with a mischievous smile playing along his rosy lips, and I notice the dimple forming on his cheek.

I pull my red hoodie from my locker, and holding on to it seems to give me a sense of stability and steadfastness. I fold my arms across my chest because if I don't then maybe my raggedly beating heart would fly right out of my ribcage. I begin to slowly back away from the boy, because his eyes scare me and yet fascinate me at the same time.

Asher's gaze drifts to my hair and then to my jacket and it's like something clicks in that pretty head of his.

"Hey! You didn't apologize for this morning!" his voice interrupts, drowning the sound of my hammering heart.

"Excuse you?" I ask, pushing an arm through my jacket arm hole, and then the other arm, until the jacket covers the top half of my body in red material. I look up with confusion I hope he can detect, "I don't even know you."

"Yeah, you do. It was you that collided with me this morning, wasn't it?" he says in a discerning tone.

"Uh okay, that may or may not be true," I say, remembering today morning and how worried I'd been over something that now appeared so silly, "But this is high school. A big, scary place where you're going to knock into people in the hallways. Get used to it."

I give him a smile, taking out A Thousand Splendid Suns from my locker and closing it with a little bang. It's amazing what a small amount of adrenalin can do to someone.

Take me, for example. I'm not normally this bold. I don't speak my mind, I just keep my thoughts to myself. Maybe Mia is starting to rub off on me. Maybe this boy with the strange blue eyes and dark blonde hair makes it increasingly difficult for me to organize the thoughts running through my mind, resulting in me blurting them out.

I continue walking down the hallway, suddenly eager to get as far as possible from Asher.

"Okay, Little Red. Do have a name?" he yells from down the hallway, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I don't know, do I?" I ask, turning and watching his eyebrows furrow at my nuttiness and his face warp into a confused expression. Cute.

Hopefully he's weirded out by my cringe-worthy self.

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I return from school by bus, mentally and physically exhausted from today's experience.

School is exhausting.

Traveling by bus is annoying and frustrates the living daylights out of me.

Instead of using earphones the creepy little boy behind me blasts his depressing songs out loud, and the sophomore girl across from me insists on informing me on the world's supply of gossip and news, from who's cheating on who and why the weather suits her make up to how her fifth grade teacher was a total flirt.

Then there's Mark, a senior guy from our school who takes advantage of the already crowded bus by sneaking his arm around my shoulders, 'accidentally' brushing up against me and sitting way too close to me for my liking.

I collapse on my soft bed, stripping from my clothes. I chuck a shirt over my head, and then check my computer for any replies for my baby-sitting offer. As I said, I need some extra cash to help my mum, and right now, since I am not officially eighteen, this is the best I can do. I've been thinking about doing this for quite a long time, but never got to actually put my idea in place.

Mom is always working, and she will only return later in the night. She trusts me to take care of myself at home, while she's not there, and she knows about my babysitting idea because I've been badgering her about it for a while now. After a while, she uneasily agreed.

I find three replies on the site.

Hi, I saw your offer advertising babysitting in this area. I have an eight year old son who I need a babysitter for. Please reply ASAP.

I need a babysitter for my triplets. They need to be taken to the park daily, and fed. Call me to discuss the price, much appreciated. Okay, what are they, dogs?

Oh my god, thank you! I'm a working mom, and I need someone for my daughter. She scared away her previous baby-sitters; I'm just warning you before-hand. I'm prepared to pay however much you want. I'll message you our address, or you can message me yours. We're in the same area, and I really don't mind where exactly Everleigh stays. You sound like a responsible young lady. Reply if you're interested xoxoxo.

I study these replies carefully. The first one seems okay.

I could manage a kid but three? No way. Consequently, the second one is a definite 'no'.

I decide to choose the last one. It sounds way more pleasant than the others, and I am sure I can handle a little girl. I have experience.

I email child number three's mum, whose name is Victoria, telling her that I would be able to baby-sit her daughter from four o' clock to six-thirty on random weekdays. I also forward my address.

She messages me back instantly, saying that she'll be coming to drop off little Everleigh right now, because she has an urgent meeting to attend to. At the end of her message there are about a thousand 'hugs' and 'kisses'.

After that, I go upstairs to dress up into something more appropriate, because I am currently in a huge worn-out shirt. I decide to wear my Mickey Mouse top paired with denim skinny jeans, and I tie my coffee brown hair into a messy bun, slipping on navy-blue Converse. I look presentable.

Just then, there is a 'ding-dong'. Victoria is probably at the door. I jolt downstairs, and open the door. In front of me stands an extremely sophisticated and classy looking women, and she is beautiful. She has brown-blonde hair, hazel eyes and a dash of light pink lip gloss on. She takes one glance at me, and then embraces me in a fierce and warm bear hug.

I look down, and that's when I see her: a sweet, dimpled little girl wearing a fairy dress, and cowering shyly behind her mother with a stubborn look on her face. I let go of Victoria's embrace, and say to the little girl, "I love your dress!"

She lets go of her mother's legs hesitantly, and looks up at me with hazel eyes. "Really?" she asks.

I laugh, and the girl smiles. "Yeah, I can give you some fairy wings to match it, if you like."

She nods vigorously. Then her mom picks her up and places a big fat kiss on her forehead.

"Wren this is Everleigh, Everleigh, this is Wren. She's going to look after you until mum comes to pick you up. Don't trouble Wren too much, okay?" She giggles when her mom tickles her tummy.

"Okay mommy, you can go now. I won't trouble Wren!" she says. I see she is quite eager for those wings.

Victoria places her daughter down. She takes my hand and places something warm and flat in it. I look down, where my hands are filled with multiple banknotes.

She mutters a genuine 'thank you' to me before I can respond to her very generous gesture. Then she rushes off to her sleek black Mercedes in her nude stilettos. I pick Everleigh up, "So Everleigh, what do you want to do today?"

"I wanna watch SpongeBob!" she squeals.

I look down at her, "I love SpongeBob too!" I say. And then she gives me a huge grin I didn't know she could pull, and starts singing an off-key version of 'Who Lives In A Pineapple Under The Sea'. I lay her down on the couch and switch on our flat screen TV.

"I like you Wrennie," she says, her eyes glued to the TV screen. "You can call me Ever."

"Okay Ever." I smile at the way she pronouced my name, liking the way my names sounds when she says it. "Do you like popcorn?"

● ● ●

I sit on the couch watching Ever beside me, her small frame leaning against mine while her legs barely fold over the couch.

Every minute or so she dives her tiny hand into the popcorn bowl and chews while her attention is fixed on the TV.

She gurgles at something happening on the screen, and I can't help but laugh with her. She reminds me so much of Emma. Even their names are similar. A sudden idea pops into my head.

"Ever. Can you be a good girl and sit here for a moment while I go get something quick?"

"Yeah," she says, staring up at me as I rise from the couch. I run upstairs and find small silver box, and its matching key in my room. Opening the box, I handle a tiny, fragile-looking bracelet, small enough to fit perfectly on Ever's wrist.

Then, that stupid doorbell decides to blare again. It might be Ever's mom back to pick her up. But then again, it might not. . .

Oh, fudgesticks.

"Ever! Don't open the-"

When I'm nearly at the bottom of the flight of narrow stairs, I hear voices.

Too late.

Both sound rather familiar. One definitely belongs to Ever, and the other is deep and rich and yet still conversant. That is definitely not Victoria. Unless, you know, she got a voice box implant on the way or something. I hear the conversation more clearly after I move forward.

Peeking a bit into the room, I can just make out Ever in her fairy dress, and newly added wings. She is held by a tall frame, and staring up at the boy with peaked adoration. "Ash! I missed you!" she pouts.

"Okay, Ever, no need to kiss up to your big brother, everyone knows the real reason you're acting like an angel is that you've been bribed with chocolate or something," the voice says firmly.

"No!" she defends immediately, obviously angry with the boy for what he had just said.

"I like Wrennie. She's really nice to me. She gives me popcorn; the buttery type, and fairy wings, and lets me watch SpongeBob, and she's pretty. And I really like popcorn. Oh, and Patrick's funny!" she continues blabbering.

I internally laugh and thank little Ever for defending me even though I am as good as a stranger to her. I decide to come out from my hiding, since eavesdropping seems too intrusive.

"Ever! I got you something before you go!" I smile.

But the smile is drained from my face when I recognize a mop of dark blonde hair and a pair of bright blue eyes. I freeze, my eyes widening as he stares at me with equal curiosity, while I can sense the cogs turning in his head.

"Little Red." I hear him mutter, under his breath. I grimace slightly, averting my eyes from his and then hating myself for being so affected by the deep blue color of his irises. I turn to Ever.

"Ever, is this your..." I say, moving my eyes to the boy dressed in expensive black jeans and a dark blue button up shirt that he has rolled up to his forearms.

"Dum dum brother!" Ever finishes for me, and I smile amusedly.

"Hey!" he exclaims, tickling her a little on her belly. She lets out a gurgle, pleased with herself for just insulting him. I watch silently, not wanting to interrupt their sentimental moment.

It is interesting to observe the way Asher behaves with his sister. It does not quite justify the cold-hearted savage many girls swear he is.

"Ever," I say, once again.

I hold out a hand to the little girl. In my palm was a tiny pearl bracelet, big enough to fit on Ever's wrist. Both the siblings' gazes train on my hand.

"This is for you, it used to be mine a long time ago." I smile politely, ignoring him as I fit the bracelet neatly on Ever's hand. Ever immediately starts to fiddle and gawk at her newfound little treasure.

I can feel Asher's heated gaze travel down my stature, from the corner of my eye. He continues eyeing me shamelessly, not bothering to deter his wandering blue eyes. He finally stops, and picks up his sister, and says gruffly, "Okay, it's time to go now, Ever."

Ever looks up at him with pleading eyes, "I want to stay Ash," she says quietly.

"Don't worry," he assures her, and I still stay silent, "You'll probably be coming here again tomorrow."

He starts towards the door, and I stop him, placing a hand on his taut shoulder. He turns, and I look anywhere other than his eyes, lowering my gaze to his lips. Bad idea.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I um...I...," I start, but quickly change my mind, settling with, "Please drive slowly, she's about to fall asleep. I don't think anyone wants an accident to happen," I say, motioning towards a drowsy looking Ever.

Images flash across my mind in wild brush strokes, and I try my best to slide the disturbing thoughts away. It doesn't help. They resurface.

He chuckles at me and his face holds the same confusion as today morning. He looks at me inspectingly like I'm a math problem he needs to solve.

"I will," he says.

I look back at him and I do not convey humor of any sort, keeping my face as blank as possible.

For the first time, I muster up enough courage to look into his eyes, and I nearly jump when I see that they reflect sadness, and I notice the waves of pain gush back and forth in the bright blue circles getting absorbed into the dark black pupils.

Strange.

He nods slightly towards me, unlocked his convertible, and places Ever in her car seat at the back. He ponders outside the vehicle for a while, and sends a hand through his mop of chaotic dark hair.

I close the door, and slide slowly down the the wooden surface, collapsing softly on the floor. I stare blankly ahead as images soar, fly and weave their way into my mind by force or by chance.

I see Emma, young and small and too beautiful to be gone, covered in blood and sweat and my tears.

I see Ever, laughing and smiling with no care in the world and innocence lurking in her hazel colored eyes.

I see Asher, with an ocean of turquoise sadness flooding his eyes and lighting his face, the waves drifting at first, and then breaking viciously along the edge of his irises.

Bringing my knees up to my arms, I weep softly, with the fabric of my shirt absorbing the salt and moisture.

Hi guys! If you like THG (The Hoodie Girl) so far don't forget to vote and comment! I love reading comments, they really help improve my writing and see my work from someone else's point of view.

Yuen

-edited-