And that concluded my first weekend at the Savvonskis'. But now it was Monday, and I was faced with reality once again. As I set out for Kimberly Park—Britt's and my usual spot for meeting on our walks to school—my mind was overcome with thought, which was never a good sign. Today I was mulling over what I was going to tell Britt when she drilled me—which she undoubtedly would.

But what should I tell her? What could I tell her? Would it be advisable to simply ignore her probing questions? Perhaps I could just bluff that I had made progress in our revenge scheme, but then she'd ask for more details, and I could only carry a bluff so far.

Tell the truth? My conscience prodded in its small, yet effective voice that always seemed to win me over. I wasn't so convinced this time, though.

Bringing a hand through my hair, I let out a frustrated breath before battling my conscience with whatever ammunition I had at hand. I can't tell the truth because I don't even know what it is! I don't even know for sure if I really did enjoy the weekend. Who knows? Maybe I wasn't angry with Ashton last night because I was tired, not because I thought he was actually an okay person. And besides, today will be different. I'll glare at him just as easily as ever, and he'll glare right back.

But my conscience would have none of it, and, unsurprisingly, the moment I saw Britt walking toward me, I knew what I was going to tell her. The truth—or at least most of it.

"Hey, Britt!" I exclaimed a little bit too cheerily when she reached me.

Immediately suspicious, Britt questioned, "What's going on?"

"Nothing!"

As if my best friend since sixth grade would buy that. She stared at me imploringly until I caved. "All right...so maybe I have a confession."

"Does it have anything to do with Ashton Savvonski?" she asked instantly, and I frowned in response.

"Well...yes."

Smirking haughtily at me, Britt answered, "You ended up liking him, didn't you?"

"No," I growled. "But even if that were the case—and it's not!—why would you be pleased? Aren't you supposed to be helping me get revenge on him?"

"First things first," she continued in that same pleased tone, "You're the one who wanted revenge, not me. Secondly, yes, I will be helping you get revenge, but can't I have some fun on the side?"

"Umm, no, actually," I snapped, but she just grinned and slung her arm over my shoulder, pulling me into step with her.

"Oh, Maine, Maine, Maine," Britt drawled as we walked down the sidewalk toward the school. "I will have my way, and you know it. You're just afraid to admit it."

I glared at her. "No, you most certainly will not. But I will admit that I did completely and utterly fail at getting blackmail material."

Teasingly, she said, "And I think I know why!" She must have gotten the point this time, though, because she suddenly added in reprimand, "But, Maine! How dare you? You were supposed to get information for us! Blackmail! Don't you know how important the blackmail is? What happened to the blackmail?"

Sighing in relief—as odd as that was—I evaded her question, instead commenting, "Remember that time you tried to blackmail Mr. François, but ended up instead convincing the whole school that he was your dad? Yeah, that was a good time."

I was expecting her to either protest or laugh, but suddenly she was darting behind me and ducking, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly. "Dude, what?" I yelped in surprise, and my eyes automatically scanned my surroundings, trying to figure out what Britt was hiding from.

"It's him; it's him!" my best friend rushed. "Don't look!"

"What? Who?" I ignored her order, instead continuing my search.

"Him! Him!" she hissed, before pushing us both straight into a congregation of stout trees. "Here! This should be safe."

Throwing my hands out to guard my eyes from the branches, I squealed, "Britt! Stop it!" Unfortunately, my 'stop it' came out as more of a cough, because a pine cone was suddenly thrust into my mouth.

While I was too busy choking and hacking to protest, Britt pulled us both into a crouch behind the pine tree. My eyes watering, I spit out the cone with disgust, and turned to Britt in mortification. "Britt Owens! Don't you dare push me into a tree again! What are we doing back here, anyway?"

"Shush!" she snapped, waving an impatient hand in my direction, before cautiously peeking around the branches of our temporary hideout.

On the verge of throttling her, I bit back my anger best I could, grumbled under my breath, and crawled to the other side of the thicket to peer through it. What I saw on the other side shouldn't have surprised me, knowing Britt and all, but it did nonetheless.

Standing approximately six yards away were David Simons and Joshua Presley. I knew them both in passing, but I primarily knew them by their best friend—Ashton Savvonski. The three boys were something of a famed group at our school, and their fame could be credited to one thing. To put it simply, they were some of the most gorgeous boys to have ever graced the halls of Central Meadow High. Not to mention, they were all rich—which was hardly a crime in the primarily rich eastern Meadowfield.

Ask any girl at school, and they'd probably have a favorite of the trio. I knew who Brett fancied—Josh. That would explain why we were hiding from him right now. Josh was probably the most fancied of the boys. What Dave lacked in charisma, and Ashton lacked in kindness, Josh had it all. Hardly a person could complain about Joshua Presley.

I had never paid much attention to any one of the three boys, but I did have to admit, it was in their favor that they were kind on top of being wealthy and attractive. Well, Dave and Josh were kind. Ashton had always been the scary one.

And yet, even Ashton wasn't entirely ill-natured. I'd seen him smile a great deal this last weekend—even if those smiles were at my expense.

Shaking my head of such thoughts, I refocused my attention on the two boys standing opposite our hideout.

They appeared to be deep in a confidential conversation, as, every now and then, Dave would glance around apprehensively. I could just catch a few words of it from where Britt and I were crouching. Those few words consisted of 'Ash,' 'Detroit,' 'last spring,' and 'If so, I'll have to kick his—.'

Long story short, I was quite confused by the time the two boys stopped talking due to the interruption of Josh's ringing cell phone. I was about to turn to Britt and ask if she had collected more than I had, when I heard a motorcycle engine roaring about half a block away from our location. It sounded disgracefully familiar, and when I turned my head to look, I recognized Ashton's bike even in the distance.

I didn't have to think twice. Not caring if Dave and Josh saw me, I threw myself through the gathering of young pines and made a run for it. Obviously, the boys did see me—and Britt yelled after me—but I didn't stop running. No way was I going to let Ashton Savvonski catch me hiding behind some trees, potentially stalking his best friends.

I didn't want him to be right.

I didn't see Britt again until lunch. When I sat down at our usual table, I spotted her sauntering my way, lunch tray in hand. I cautiously gauged her face as she sat down on the chair opposite me. She didn't appear particularly peeved, so I relaxed somewhat and took a bite out of my peanut butter sandwich.

"So..." Britt was the first to speak, her voice dripping with exaggerated nonchalance. "How was your morning?—you know, after you bailed out on me."

Frowning, I defended, "Look, I had no choice, all right? Do you even know who was riding his motorcycle down the street while we were cowering in the bushes like a pair of scared rabbits? Ashton Savvonski! There is no way that he wouldn't have noticed us. So I had to run, okay?"

She started to say something, but I rushed on anyway. "Do you have any idea what I would be facing this weekend if he had caught me creeping on his friends? He'd totally peg me for a stalker, which, mind you, he's already done."

"You mean he's already caught on?" When I nodded my head, she let out a sigh and chided, "Maine! You can't just blow your cover like this!"

"It wasn't my fault!" I exclaimed. "I promise you: it was not my fault."

She shot me a look. "Not to be rude, but how could it not be your fault?"

Gritting my teeth, I stated slowly, "Because, Britt, if you humiliated some kid at school and he suddenly showed up at your doorstep looking for work, wouldn't you suspect something? It wouldn't matter how he acted—you'd know something was up. I mean, if I were Ashton, I would have suspected me too. Doesn't mean I would have pushed me in a pool though."

Britt snorted. "Are you serious?"

"You bet your butt I'm serious." I shook my head. "That punk."

"He's really not doing anything to help his cause, is he?"

I was about to agree, but something stopped me. The pizza. I'd forgotten about the pizza from Saturday afternoon. And then there was the comradery in cleaning the pool. But then again, he had made that mess in the first place to cause me trouble. So that was a point only in my favor, not his.

"Yeah, he's sabotaging himself." I agreed. "And he still hasn't technically caught me."

Brett nodded approvingly. "You're still in the game—but you're only surviving at this point. What we really need is—"

"Yeah, yeah, Your Majesty," I interjected, "I will get some real blackmail for us next weekend. Happy?"

She grinned manically in response.

Chuckling, I glanced across the cafeteria to where Ashton was currently sitting with his friends. "We're gonna get to that kid one way or another."

"Awe, Maine is all grown up! Plotting against school villains. Fighting evil in Meadowfield. I'm so proud!"

I tossed her a glare, but she just grinned wider. "You know, there's something really twisted about you," I remarked, shaking my head.

"And you love it!"

As she happily bit into her hamburger, I sneaked another glance in Ashton's direction—and regretted it.

To my dismay, at the exact moment that my eyes landed on Ashton, who was somehow coincidentally facing me, his chocolate brown gaze flickered directly into mine.

I was so taken aback that I jolted a bit in my seat. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The aggravating thing was that he didn't look away either.

No, he had to take the time to confuse me with that stupid smile of his, which ultimately caught the attention of the two boys sitting with him, as well as Britt's. Well, I suppose Britt was more drawn in by my jolt than by Ashton.

I could see Josh exchanging words with Ashton, but it was Brett's voice that I heard. "Is he smiling?"

"Afraid so," I muttered, relieved to have an excuse to look away from him.

"Don't think I've seen a smile that pretty in a while."

"Pretty?"

"Yeah, haven't you noticed?"

"No, and I don't care to," I told her pointedly, but looked back at Ashton nonetheless. He tilted his head, as if to say, "What?"

Scared of what my own face might look like, I hastily looked away. "Let's just...not think about him for a minute, okay?" But the heat in my cheeks remained.

From that moment forth, I had a certain fear as I roamed the halls of Central Meadow High that Ashton would do something crazy like approach me. But my fears were not well-founded, for Ashton never even spoke to me that day. Or the next, for that matter. Come Wednesday, and I hadn't gotten as much as another glance from him—not that I was hoping for one, of course.

But even without his attention, I didn't go by completely unnoticed.

It was Wednesday that same week, and I was on my merry way to the cafeteria, when two lofty figures came up on either side of me. I wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for everyone else in the hallway veering out of my way so dramatically.

Confused, I glanced to my right and found Joshua Presley there, walking in time with me. When I looked to my left, there was David Simons. In shock, I yanked my face forward and slowed my pace.

Maybe the boys were trying to pass me because I was walking too slowly—but when I slowed, they slowed as well. Panicking, I picked up the pace—only to watch as they lengthened their strides to keep up.

Perhaps it was foolish to feel scared, but I could only imagine the things Ashton must have said about me to them. Surely their presence here could mean nothing good.

All I wanted to do was escape, but even when I was practically running down the hall, they stuck by me. So I brought myself to a complete halt finally, and they both shot past me. Josh was the first to swivel back around, Dave following shortly after.

"Ah, cafeteria girl!" Josh exclaimed, as if surprised to see me. As if they hadn't just raced me down the entire hallway.

I just stared.

"You got a name, cafeteria girl?" he asked, somehow managing to not make it sound as rude as it should have.

"No."

He blinked. Then laughed.

Dave grinned next to him. "It's Maine, right?"

"Yeah," I assented. Then, feeling like a fool, I added, "And you're Dave. And you're Josh."

Josh offered one of his dazzling smiles that would have made Britt go weak in the knees. "Pleasure to meet you."

Still at a loss, I looked back and forth between the boys. "It is?"

Dave laughed. "Is it usually not good to meet you?"

"Well, no, that's not what I meant. I just—"

"Hey, any friend of Trashton's is a friend of ours," Josh interjected, still sporting that million-dollar smile.

Did I miss something? "But—he's not my friend."

"He will be though."

My gaze snapped to Dave. Incensed for no reason, I folded my arms and came back with, "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but you two are clearly mistaken. Your friend Ashton and I have absolutely nothing to do with each other."

I was surprised to see a hint of confusion on Dave's face as he seemed to pass the baton back to Josh—the main spokesman. There was no confusion in Josh's gaze, nor his tone of voice. "That's not what he told us."

"And just what did he tell you?" We were alone now in the hallway, which was probably good because my irritation was really starting to come out.

"Now that's not really your business, is it?" Josh's smile was maddening.

Resisting the urge to groan out loud, I retorted, "If you didn't want me knowing, you shouldn't have mentioned it. But clearly he said something that led you to believe we were friends. That means he either lied, or you misunderstood."

Somehow that got the truth out of Josh. "So you don't work for the Savvonskis?"

"I—yes, I work for them. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Josh raised his eyebrows. "It means that you and Ash absolutely do have something to do with each other."

"Yeah, very little if I can help it," I muttered ruefully.

That brought a snide smile to Josh's face. "Do you have a problem with Ash?"

I was about to agree wholeheartedly, but was suddenly reminded of the situation I was in. I was being confronted by Ashton's two best friends. His two best friends who had a great presence in this school and who had known Ashton for half their lives. If anyone would step in to thwart my revenge, it would be these boys. I had to proceed with caution.

Shrugging my disdain off, I pulled on a guise of innocence. "No, of course I don't—I just don't see how he and I would be friends. He's—intimidating." That seemed safe enough to say.

"Trashton? Intimidating?" The boys shared a laugh.

"Yes," I said, ignoring their amused looks. "And besides, he wouldn't want me as a friend. I'm not intimidating enough."

That made them laugh harder. "But you're just so delightful, Maine." That was Josh, using words like "delightful."

I almost smiled. This was preposterous. "Thanks, but no." I started turning to leave, but Josh's hand on my arm stopped me.

He had traded his grin for a serious expression—which he pulled off just as well. "Hey, I didn't mean to make you upset. We just wanted to meet the girl that made Ashton smile."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Just what were these boys up to? "I didn't make him smile. He just did."

"You don't get it, do you?" Dave spoke up. "You were right when you said Ash wouldn't hang out with someone like you. But that's just it—he smiled at you. He knows you."

I gave him a wry look. "Because smiling at someone is such a novelty."

Dave laughed. "Suit yourself. But I think there's more going on than you're admitting."

"Oh, yeah? And I think you're crazy."

He and Josh smiled at each other and then back at me. "I mean, you're not wrong," Josh replied jovially.

I just shook my head, speechless. These boys were absolutely daft. Had no one else in the school noticed it, or was it just me going mad? Either way, I needed to get out of here. Fast.

In a rush, I told them, "So I'm really flattered that you guys have made up this fantastic scenario in your heads, but you'll be disappointed to find out that Ashton and I are not close at all. And on that note, I really have to go."

I didn't allow them persuade me to turn back around this time as I turned tail and fled up the stairs to the commons.

I avoided Josh and Dave like the plague for the rest of that day and the next. The last thing I needed right now was for Ashton's best friends to catch onto my schemes.

And it was no problem at all avoiding Ashton, for he seemed to be avoiding me as well.

With little to no drama, Friday's school day passed by relatively fast, and I presently found myself exiting the building. Britt's mom had picked her up earlier for a dentist appointment, so I was sentenced to be by my lonesome on the journey home. Walking down the sidewalk, I warily kept an eye out for sleazy characters. My school was full of those—or maybe I was just paranoid.

Shaking my head, mostly at myself, I continued to make my way hurriedly down the sidewalk toward the park. I was fortunate enough to have been spared from a vast amount of homework today, so I was going to treat myself before heading home. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my extra time than going to Kimberly Park and enjoying the nice early autumn weather.

When I reached the park—thankfully without any sleazy encounters—I broke into a jog and made my way over to the small patch of woods surrounding the clearing. I trotted down a blazed deer trail before leaving the path and crawling through the underbrush toward my favorite place.

My favorite place was located in the center of the wooded area in a secluded part that few people ever visited. It was a small clearing completely hemmed in by shrubs and maple and pine trees. I loved to lie down on my back and stare up through the trees in that tiny, secret spot to the magical sky above. It made me feel that everything would be all right, that all my anxieties were irrelevant.

Plopping down in the grass, I opened my backpack and dug through it until I found my notebook. Pulling it out, I selected a pencil and began drawing. I wasn't really sure what I was forming with the graphite, but I let my hand invent it as it traveled across the page.

I was in the process of shading a group of spires, when my phone began buzzing in my pocket. I laid my pencil down and whipped my phone out, surprised to see Pamela Savvonski's name flash across the screen.

My stomach leaping to my throat, I braced myself before swiping the answer option and bringing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Maine!" she exclaimed brightly, "It's so good to hear your voice!"

Is it? Unable to do anything other than smile and awkwardly say, "You too," I allowed her to take the lead, which she had no trouble in doing.

"First of all," she began, "I'd like to compliment you on the marvelous job you did last weekend. The house looked spotless; the laundry was folded so neatly; and, best of all, Ash was actually smiling!"

My smile faded slowly as I processed what she had just said. Ash was actually smiling. I knew that he had been smiling when we'd said goodnight, but, judging by the way Mrs. Savvonski had said those words, he must have been smiling even after I had left. Weird.

Unable to take Pam's compliment, I replied nervously, "I really didn't do that much."

"Oh, but you did!" Mrs. Savvonski countered. Apparently her compliments were not to be denied.

"Well, thank you," I murmured, wondering how in the world I was supposed to respond to her unwarranted generosity. If only she'd seen Ashton and me earlier that day. In the dreaded swimming pool. Then she certainly wouldn't have said all that she had.

"All the thanks goes to you, Maine," Mrs. Savvonski gushed, and I could practically hear her smile through the phone. I briefly wondered how long her face could handle that sort of strain. I knew mine wouldn't hold up for very long. Then, to make matters worse, she added, "You really are a sweetheart."

Bringing a hand to my face in embarrassment, I hoped desperately for the onslaught of compliments to end there. Miraculously, they did.

Through a muffled fuzz, I thought I made out Mr. Savvonski's voice on the other end. "Pam, it's time to go, or we'll miss our flight."

I furrowed my brow. They were leaving tonight?

"Yes, honey, one second!" Pam's voice came through, louder than her husband's. She directed her next words to me. "So I was mainly calling to let you know that Jacob and I are leaving tonight. We have a conference early tomorrow morning, so we thought we'd get a head start. I just didn't want you to be alarmed if you got to our place and no one was there."

"Oh, no, that's totally cool," I said, not putting much thought into it. "Have a good trip!"

"Thanks, sweetheart. And thank you again for all that you've done—for our place and especially for Ash."

I squirmed, thankful she couldn't actually see my face. "No problem! I guess I'll, uh, see you guys later?"

"Yes, see you!"

With that, she hung up, and I was left staring at my phone. What was wrong with all these people? Acting as if I had any effect on Ashton Savvonski.

Feeling that my peace of mind had been disturbed, I decided to head home instead of drawing more. Picking up my supplies and tossing them into my backpack, I crawled back through the underbrush until I reached the deer trail. Rising to my feet, I followed the path back to the main clearing of the park.

I was just about to exit the park, when I noticed someone sitting on the center bench. My blood turned cold the instant I recognized the black leather jacket and tousled hair. Speak of the devil.

Still hoping to avoid any run-ins with him, I cautiously edged around the outskirts of the clearing. And I was so close to escaping too, when his voice stopped me immediately in my tracks.

"Eilerts!"

Cringing, I forced myself to turn around and face him. "Savvonski."

He tilted his head at me, much like he had in the cafeteria on Monday. "You okay?" He was now on his feet and approaching me.

"Yeah, fantastic," I said, realizing only after I'd said it how heavily it was laced with sarcasm.

"What? You land in detention again?"

I shot him a look of horror. "No! Of course not!"

He smiled humorlessly. "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You're better than that."

Now it was my turn to blink. Where had that come from? "I—what?"

"Don't you remember? You let the whole class know how much you didn't belong there."

Is he serious? My initial discomfort was starting to turn into irritation. "Did I miss something? Or were you not the one who stood up and preached that to the mountains?"

"Oh yeah, I did, didn't I?" He looked so satisfied with himself. So disgustingly pleased.

I must have been kidding myself this week if I'd thought for a second that Ashton wasn't every bit the scary devil I'd always thought him to be. The blood boiling under my skin, I clenched my fists and tried desperately to refrain from saying something stupid.

Noticing my red face, Ashton leaned down so that we were at eye level, and his gaze somehow grew crueler. "Don't tell me you're upset? You shouldn't be upset, since you're so perfect."

I could hardly believe my ears. Why was he doing this? Just four days earlier, he had been smiling at me pleasantly in the cafeteria, and here he was now, ripping into me verbally. Had I done something? Or had I just been a complete and utter fool to think I had the tiniest grasp on Ashton Savvonski's character?

I was such a fool.

Refusing to let him make any more ground, I just shook my head and murmured, "You're so incredibly unimpressive."

That seemed to surprise him—he must have been expecting an outrage. What he didn't know was that I was indeed on the verge of one. But my willpower was a bit stronger today than it had been on the day we met in detention.

Not allowing him a second longer to respond, I hastily side-stepped him and took off in the direction of home. I was terrified that he would follow me—even more terrified of him than the junkies I'd passed on the way to the park. For a good long stretch, I heard nothing behind me though, except for the crinkle of leaves upset by my rushing feet.

Feeling safe for the time being, I allowed my mind to return to Ashton and my own foolishness. Maybe I had no brain, but he had no heart. Right off the bat, I could think of at least five instances in which he'd either insulted someone or gotten into an altercation with them at school. He was always getting into fights for no apparent reason; his demeanor was simply outrageous; and overall he had no sense of civility.

And yet here I was, getting roped into his little games with seemingly no resistance. It was time I bucked up and gave him back what he deserved.

As soon as that thought entered my head, however, another followed it. What about your promise to Daphne?

"Ugh!" I exclaimed, rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand in aggravation. Why did my sense of loyalty to that lady have to show itself now of all times? The worst thing was that after that conversation with Daphne, I'd actually gotten along with Ashton for more than five minutes.

I had somehow, impossibly, gotten along with him. How foolish of me!

After walking a couple more yards, I abruptly came to a halt. Wait. None of this matters, because there's only one thing I should be thinking about—revenge. But what should I do?

I was just about to let out another frustrated breath, when I heard footsteps behind me. Glancing back automatically, I noticed the black leather jacket first and then the dark brown eyes. Grimacing in disgust, I whipped my head back to the direction I was going and picked up the pace again. There was no reason for me to be out-walked by Ashton.

If he wanted to act like a jerk, then so be it, but I was not about to just stand by and watch as he indirectly insulted me. However, my speed-walking idea didn't exactly pan out the way I had imagined it would. Instead of falling behind, Ashton just tripled his speed until he was right beside me, and then he adjusted his pace to one that matched mine.

The freak!

Looking at him in disgust, I decided to keep my mouth shut, but that didn't stop my mind from spinning. What is he doing? What horror is he up to now?

"Stop looking at me like that," he snapped all of the sudden, causing me to jerk in surprise.

"I'll look at you however I want, thank you."

"You're going to run into something."

Glowering, I kept my eyes glued on him. "I won't claim to be perfect, but I'm also not incompetent." He seemed to accept that answer, for all he did was shrug, but I wasn't satisfied. "One of these days, someone's going to prove you wrong. And I'm going to be there."

Ashton held up a hand and hissed, "Sshh!" I glared at him, but, still without looking in my direction, he ordered, "Don't verbalize."

It would have been so easy to either punch him in the face or burst out laughing, but I did neither. Instead, I glanced to my left, and, spotting my house, I seized my exit. With just one more look in Ashton's direction and a retort of, "You shouldn't verbalize!" I marched up the porch steps and pulled open the front door.

Never checking to see what I had left behind me, I slammed the door and charged into the kitchen in an automatic search for food—anything to distract me from that jerk. Instead of being met by the friendly refrigerator, though, I was met by my skeptical-looking parents.

"Who was that?" was the first thing that left my father's lips.

My eyes widened in alarm at the questioning stares my parents were giving me. Oh, rubbish. Now I'm caught for sure. "Uh...he's just some kid that goes to my school." Well, that's a start.

Raising a suspicious brow, my mother commented, "You two seemed to be having a deep conversation."

"Did we?" I said, praying that I sounded surprised. "We were just talking about homework."

My parents waited for a second, as if expecting more. When I didn't say anything, my father took a stab. "So...was he walking you home then?"

Resisting the urge to groan, I answered in exasperation, "No, dad. We just have the same route home, and we ended up talking to each other—he had a question about an assignment, okay?"

They didn't look entirely satisfied with my explanation, but eventually my mother shrugged her shoulders and said, "All right, honey. We're just a little concerned, that's all. We don't want you getting involved with—strange boys."

Oh goodness. It was worse than I'd imagined. "I'm not getting involved with 'strange boys,' Mom! Trust me, I'm fine," I stressed, before offering them my most promising smile and heading up the stairs to my room. As soon as I had the door safely shut behind me, I let out a breath of relief.

I had always known my parents to be protective, but I hadn't realized they'd freak out over just my talking to someone. Thinking back, I tried to imagine what image they'd seen out the window. Ashton and I had just been walking—it wasn't like we were holding hands for crying out loud. But maybe it didn't have anything to do with that.

As I looked back on my mental image of him today, I acknowledged that he had not looked like the type of person my parents would want me hanging out with. Something about his leather jacket and dark demeanor must have been offsetting.

One thing I knew for certain: my parents could not find out that I was spending my weekends in the same house as that butthead. It wasn't that I was doing anything wrong, but based off of today's experience especially, I knew they would not react well to the notion, especially if they found out more about Ashton. I would definitely lose my job, and, with it, all chances of getting revenge.

Regrettably, it appeared that I had a lot morelying to do in the near future—all the more reason to hurry up and get thisover with.