"You're not eating lunch with us today, are you?"

I slammed my locker shut and twisted the lock as I awkwardly juggled two textbooks and my homework in my arms. I was doing my best to avoid looking at Taelor, but she wasn't making it easy. She had that look on her face she got whenever she was thoroughly annoyed about something, and I happened to be one of those things she was annoyed about.

It wasn't that I was avoiding her or that I didn't want to hang out with her or anything. I actually kind of missed her nonsensical babblings and sort of vapid air. It was just that I had a bit of a more pressing matter at hand.

Whenever my shirt sleeve rode up and I caught sight of the making on the inside of my wrist, I was sickly reminded of just how much little time I had left.

I was down to 23 days now.

And to say that I had made little progress where Archer was involved was putting it lightly. In fact, I hadn't actually moved anywhere at all with him.

He still continued to be as surly and unpleasant as always and the permanent scowl etched on his ridiculously handsome face never left, either. I wasn't so sure if he was always this angry or if his rather rude attitude was just because I happened to be following him around like some sort of lost puppy.

I didn't expect him to take me back to his grandma's coffee house. Like, ever. I doubted I would ever get to see Regina again - who I did happen to like very much - and I probably would never get to meet his little sisters, April, May and June.

In all honesty, I was beginning to feel like a bit of a stalker. But it wasn't like I'd been given exact instructions or anything. Death had merely said, "Do this in 27 days or else."

So with that rather daunting task resting on my shoulders, I was a little more than stressed out at the moment. And now I was having best friend troubles, too? Luck was just so not on my side at the moment.

"Look, Tae...." I sighed, shifting my bag up on my shoulder. "It's not you or anything. It's me, actually. There's a whole lot of crap going on right now."

Literally.

Taelor did not look convinced at all. Her glossed lips pursed in a tight line as she straightened out her designer coat, giving me a stern look.

"And there's something going on that you can't share with me?" she asked in a slightly offended look. "But you can share it with Archer Morales?"

I bristled at the mention of Archer.

For some odd reason, my guard instantly went up and I became insanely protective over Archer whenever someone mentioned him. It was a little weird, considering I didn't know him all that well and I had no right to feel that way, but I felt like it was my job to shield him from all that was said about him.

That was stupid, of course, because Archer clearly didn't give a flying rat's ass about what people thought of him.

Or maybe he did? I had no idea.

I filed away that certain question in the drawer in my mind I liked to call "The Questions". These were reserved mainly for Archer and at some point during the next 23 days, I planned on asking him all of them. Whether or not that would go over too well was debatable, but I was hoping for the best.

"Taelor, you don't even know him," I reminded her stiffly. "He's not that bad of a guy."

Taelor snorted, rolling her blue eyes up at the ceiling. "He's about as empty as a person can get, Hadley. I don't think you see that. Do you have a crush on him or something?"

I let out a squeak only capable of Minnie Mouse and dropped my geometry textbook right on my foot. My face was about the color of a freshly picked tomato and it had only been a few seconds. Yeah, I blushed that fast.

"N-No!" I stammered, my eyes widening to the size of saucers. "I do not have a crush on Archer Morales!"

Taelor blinked. And then bust out laughing so hard she nearly fell over backwards.

"Oh, come on, Hadley," she sighed, shaking her head. "We've known each other since kindergarten, and I can tell when you're lying. You suck at lying."

Well, maybe that was true, but I was not lying about this. There was no way in hell I could ever have a crush on Archer. Sure, he was absurdly good looking, but I wasn't so sure that many girls had fallen for his abrasive charm. That, and he didn't even talk to anyone else, either.

Hell. It was a miracle he even talked to me. But I think that's probably because he was afraid I'll do something incredibly insulting towards me, like tell people about his little sisters or something. I had no idea.

And besides, even if I did have feelings for Archer, it wasn't as if this was exactly the appropriate time for romance or anything. That's the last thing I knew he needed at the moment - some random girl he barely knew throwing herself at him and confessing her feelings.

Hah. As if.

"I don't have a crush on Archer, Taelor," I said as calmly as I could. "We're just friends."

Actually, I wasn't even sure if you could even call us that. What were we?

Taelor gave me one last shrewd look before she blew out a disgusted sigh, her eyes narrowing. "When you decide to tell me the truth, you know where to find me."

And with that, she flounced off down the hallway towards the cafeteria.

I sighed. Hopefully lunch with Archer was going to be super amazing and awesome and full of stimulating conversation.

Not.

I dragged myself off towards the cafeteria, clutching my homework and textbooks tightly against my chest.

After all, you could only lead a horse to the water, right?

I dropped my things onto the chair beside me at my and Archer's "table" and sat down with a sigh. I'd been a little unfortunate in getting to lunch early and now I was stuck with a bruised banana and a salad with rather wilty lettuce.

"What, no fries today?"

I glared over at Archer while I picked at my wilty salad. He looked just as thrilled as I did with the way things were going today. He had a Danish in front of him I bet came from Mama Rosa's and that was about it. He normally didn't eat much for lunch, save for my fries.

"No," I sighed. "I got to lunch too late."

"Did you get caught up talking with your super awesome friends while you stood in the hallway like super awesome popular people do in those super awesome chick flicks?" Archer asked, his hands clasped together in front of him.

I would have laughed hysterically at the look on Archer's face had he not been more or less insulting me.

"What is your problem?" I demanded, throwing my fork down on the table.

Archer leaned forward on the table with his elbows and held his head in his hands. The look on his face was ridiculously adorable and my breath caught in my throat as I stared at him. Until I remembered that he had just insulted me.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, waving a hand. "I'm fine. I'm just fine."

I cut my eyes in a steely glare towards Archer, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. He seemed completely imperturbed. He was definitely a good actor, because I had no idea what on Earth could have been possibly going through his mind right then.

"Why do you keep lying about everything?"

I wasn't quite so sure where that question came from, but apparently the less rational side of my mind thought it a good idea to embarrass the crap out of myself even more.

And apparently, Archer didn't like that question anymore than I'd liked asking it.

The look that came over his face was a dangerously calm one, but his eyes were narrowed and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

I swallowed hard and tried to keep myself from looking the other way out of fear.

"Excuse me?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"You heard me," I muttered, taking a deep breath.

Archer made some sort of noise as he drummed his fingers on the table, pursing his lips.

"Why do I lie? Hmm. That, I think, is just another question that you're never ever going to find the answer to."

His voice was firm and very matter-of-fact and I sort of had the urge to go run away and die in a ditch or something.

What else could I possibly say to embarrass the crap out of myself?

"So you admit!" I blurted out, slapping a hand down on the table.

"Uh, Hadley," Archer said, sounding like he was talking to a very emotionally distraught two year old. 'What are you going on about now?"

"You're a liar, Archer Morales."

I had no idea where I was going with this total off the wall accusation, but apparently I needed to get this off my chest.

Archer leaned across the table towards me with a rather interested look on his face.

"I'm the liar here, Hadley?" he asked in a quiet voice. "You sure about that one?"

No.

I gave a short nod, reaching for my fork again.

And that's when Archer reached over and grabbed my left arm, shoving up my jacket sleeve so my wrist was on full display, and so was the sickeningly awful number 23.

"Then what the hell is this, huh? Why do you have this on your wrist?" he demanded, looking very, very angry.

My thoughts were spinning in my head and I thought I was about to tip over backwards off my chair because he was touching me. I had no idea what on Earth I could say to make it seem like I didn't know what Archer was planning on doing.

A thought flashed across my mind for half a second so fast I very nearly forgot it, but it was definitely enough.

"My birthday is in 23 days," I said, wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

Honestly, the last thing I needed was to all but faint because some guy was touching me - for, like, the first time ever.

"So you decided to write it on the inside of your wrist?" Archer said, looking not convinced at all.

I shrugged indifferently, trying to make it seem like nothing, but on the inside I was seconds away from bursting into tears.

"You confuse the shit out of me, Hadley," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly the easiest guy to read out there," I muttered, returning my attention to my salad.

"I wonder why that is," he returned in a sarcastic voice.

"You know, I'm trying to understand you," I said, cutting my eyes to his, "but you're kind of the most horribly distracting guy I've ever met. What is with you, Archer? Do you not like talking to people or something? Do you not like anybody knowing anything about you?"

Archer was gripping the edge of the table so hard with his knuckles were turning white. I was afraid for a second that he was going to start yelling at me or throw his Danish at me or something, but he didn't.

"You know, you could probably announce that even louder next time," he said before stood, grabbed his things, and left the cafeteria.

I stared after him with a baffled expression and then the even more awful feeling from before came back. I seriously thought I was going to cry now.

What the hell was going on with Archer?

I already knew something was going on with him, but how could I possibly help if I didn't know what it was?

Glancing down at my wrist as I started picking at my salad again, I realized these next 23 days were beginning to feel like an eternity.

"Death! I don't know where the hell you are, but I could really use some help here!"

I slammed my bedroom door shut with a loud bang! and threw my school things on the floor.

Sure, I was acting juvenile, but I didn't really care. I was in a very, very bad mood and I doubted anything would be able to calm me down anytime soon.

It was good thing I was home alone, because I highly doubted my parents would be okay with me more or less going on a freaking rampage. My kitten, Rollo, was probably hiding under my bed somewhere.

"HELLO!" I shouted. "CAN YOU HEAR ME, DEATH?"

"Actually, I can hear you quite fine, thank you. I'd appreciate it if you stopped shouting."

I almost stopped breathing and whipped around to see Death himself sitting on my desk, a cigarette between his fingers as he lit up. He wasn't wearing his leather jacket - just a dark pair of jeans, a black shirt, and the same boots - which was definitely a shock, because I'd been right about him having more than just the tattoos on his fingers. His rather muscular arms were covered in the same black inkings that had to be some sort of symbols.

"Oh, no," I said loudly when I managed to speak again, shaking a finger in his direction. "You are not smoking in here."

"Look, Hadley Jamison," Death sighed, blowing out a puff of smoke. "You asked for me and now I'm here, and you're kicking me out? Why, I don't understand."

I seriously considered walking over to grab his cigarette and snub it out in the sink or something, but Death was right. I had asked for him.

"All right," I sighed heavily. "I need your help."

"I figured that much out, Hadley Jamison," he said with a snort, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Now, what do you need help with?"

I went hands on hips and gave him a steely glare. "You're really gonna ask that question?"

Death shrugged, exhaling a bit of smoke. "I can't read minds. I have no idea what you're talking about."

I took several deep, calming breaths before I forced myself to speak. It sounded like I was about to burst into tears.

"How do you expect me to save Archer when he totally shuts me out about everything? He's not exactly the nicest guy around and I'm pretty sure he hates me."

Death stared at me with his depthless black eyes while he took a drag on his cigarette. "Oh, believe me, Hadley Jamison. Archer Morales does not hate you."

"How do you know?" I demanded, fighting back tears. "You just said yourself you can't read minds."

He smirked, fiddling with the smoking cigarette between his fingers. "This isn't a my being Death thing. This is a man thing."

"But - "

"No buts." Death cut me off. "You either take my advice or you don't."

"That wasn't advice!" I exclaimed. "That was just downright bullshit!"

"If you're just going to insult me, then there isn't any reason for me to stay, is there?"

Death slid off my desk and stood straight, making to walk towards the windows on the other side of my room.

"Fine! Fine," I yelped. "I'm sorry. It's just that this isn't exactly the easiest thing you've asked me to do."

Death turned back to stare at me with this look on his face that I couldn't describe. The only thing I could think of was that cliche term, seeing straight into your soul or something like that.

"I know, Hadley Jamison," he finally said.

He opened the window and chucked his cigarette out before taking a couple of steps towards me to put his hands on my shoulders. I couldn't help but shudder at the contact, because his hands were like freaking ice cubes.

"I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I thought you wouldn't be able to save him," Death said, a very serious look on his eerily pale face. "The fact that you're all but bawling your eyes out right now tells me that you care about him. And I know you wouldn't let him commit suicide."

My hands flew to my face and sure enough, traitor tears were streaking down my cheeks. I wanted to be embarrassed, but I just didn't have the time for something like that.

"I'm scared," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "How am I supposed to be able to do this?"

Death sighed heavily, his weird smoky peppermint scent making me a bit lightheaded.

"I can't help you there, Hadley Jamison," he said as he dropped his hands from my shoulders. "I'm not allowed."

"But - "

I couldn't even get my words out because Death just cut me off again with a very stern look.

"You're not a stupid girl, Hadley Jamison. Think. Really think. Use that brain of yours."

"But I can't - "

"Yes, you can."

We embarked on a fierce stare down. Well, I did. Death just sort of stared back with his unnerving black eyes. And after about ten seconds of that, I had to look away. I bet no one would be able to look into the eyes of Death for very long.

"Did you plan for my 27 days to be up on my 17th birthday?" I asked him wearily, taking a deep breath.

Death laughed. I mean like a throw-back-your-head-and-laugh-hysterically-until-you-can't-breathe laughed.

It wasn't a surprise that his laughter was completely creepy either.

"I suppose you could think of it as a birthday present, Hadley Jamison," Death said as he turned back towards tthe window.

But what if I can't save Archer? What if he actually commits suicide? What if - ?

I somehow managed to cut off my frantic thoughts and all but screamed at Death. "What do you mean birthday present? What kind of sick, twisted thing is that to say?"

Death didn't say anything. Instead he just smirked, and then disappeared, leaving behind the scent of peppermint and smoke.

I just stood there and stared at the spot where only seconds before Death had been standing. I wasn't so sure if Death's visit had been more trouble than help.

I blew out a sigh and flopped backwards onto my bed, kicking off my shoes.

So, in all, I'd really only learned that apparently Archer didn't hate me and that I'd be able to save him. Oh, and if I failed? Archer was going to die on my birthday.

What the hell could possibly happen next?

Judging by everything that had been going on in my life lately, I had a sinking feeling that a couple of even more horrific surprises were in store for me.

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Chapter 7 is up!!! What do you guys think??? Comments and votes are always greatly appreciated!! :D and hey, even if you're just reading this, thank you!! It means a lot!! Just a forewarning, too - second term at school has just started, so it might be a few days before I'll be able to update.

Votes, comments, and reads are always greatly appreciated!! :D (lI always say that, haha)