Hell is looming over the earth and ready to smother us. This I know, because it's Martin who wakes me up this particular Saturday morning. He even startles me.

"Dude, come on! We're gonna be late!"

"No way, Martin. No effing way!" I turn around and try to keep dreaming about whatever it was I was dreaming about, but it's already gone.

"Dude, please, it's my match day!"

This brings me to my senses. Match day. Of course. Why else would Martin wake up earlier than me? I turn around to face him again, but I'm still not quite ready to get up. "Yeah. I forgot. Sorry about that."

I mean, soccer isn't by any means something that I'll ever care about, but it's important to my best friend. Come to think of it, it's super weird to see him this focused on anything that isn't a girl, but it's also kind of refreshing; like here's this side of him nobody else knows save for a few selected people like me. I find a smile creeping up my face as I sit up, and Martin quickly throws me a pair of jeans as he readies a bag with his cleats and shin pads.

After the initial strike of impending doom, the day drifts into a more normal setup, with both of us walking to school after breakfast, and Martin yawning wide enough he could fit his fist into his mouth. His focus from earlier has apparently gone for a stroll. And then, just like that, he makes a crucial realization.

"Damn! We didn't pick Vee up!"

"No, she had some stuff to take care of at home." I shove my hands in my pockets, because although the sun is bright and the day is rather warm, there's a gust of really cold wind blowing in from the beach. We're in for a chilly afternoon for sure, and it's about time, as we are already well into June. "She's meeting up with us at school when she's done."

Martin yawns, clearly disinterested.

"So," I say, "who are you guys playing against?"

"Oh, who is it? Some school from Sunset Central." He takes a second to rack his brain. "Nah, can't remember."

"It wouldn't happen to be Crescent Barks, would it?"

"Oh yeah! That's the one!"

"Huh. That was the school I attended last year."

"Well, damn. What are the odds, right?"

Yeah. Crescent Barks is just one of the many, many middle schools in Sunset Central, which is a damn big city housing about two million people, so I guess the odds of CJ High being matched against the one school I attended before are pretty slim. I could do the math, except I don't do math on weekends.

Soon we are approaching CJ High's front yard, which has a surprising amount of people milling around in it, considering it's only half past eight on a Saturday morning.

"So, anyone you know here yet?" Martin asks me.

"Don't think so," I say. "I wasn't very different there than I am here. Meaning I had little interactions with people, if I had any."

"I'll just pretend that's an amazing fact."

"Yeah, you do that and leave me alone." We laugh together for a while and then I see the guys from the soccer club calling Martin. "Hey, Martin! What time does the match begin?"

"Nine-thirty." Martin trots over to the other guys, leaving me on my own, and devoid of better things to do, I decide to walk to the cafeteria, which much to my surprise, is actually open. These soccer events apparently bring a lot of people to school, although it's still so early. What really surprises me, though, is seeing Alex sitting at one of the tables, sipping on some coffee and reading a book.

"Yo, Alex!" I call out. "What are you doing here, dude?"

He looks up from his book and holds a fist in the air for me to bump.

"Hey! My baby brother has a match today, so I figured I'd come and support his team." I can't help glancing down at his still open book; it looks like a complicated textbook. "Yeah," he says, gesturing to the book "Mid-term exams approaching."

In case you're wondering, Alex studies architecture. And despite what you might think based on his appearance, he's pretty damn smart. Maybe even as much as Vee.

"Studying on Saturdays; the chills are real," I say.

He laughs and sips on his coffee.

"Wanna join me? I'll get another of these for you."

"Thanks, but I'm okay. I'm not big on coffee." I sit on a chair, facing him.

"So, I heard you're dating a girl." One could take this as a bit of a snarky remark, but I can tell Alex is actually interested.

"Yup, you could say that."

"So, how's that working out for you?" Then he notices I don't know what he means and elaborates. "I mean, you're not like Martin; you're not going to bullshit girls the way he does."

"Oh, no. Not at all." I ease back on my chair. I like talking serious stuff with Alex because he's grown-up and mature. Nothing at all like Martin, the hurricane brother. "And things are good. We're pretty serious."

"Good. Will I meet her soon?"

"You already did, briefly." And I remind him of that day when I also met Veronica.

"Oh, that little girl?"

"Yeah. Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not at all. She just reminds me of someone I dated in high school, that's all."

Needless to say, I know who he means.

"Candace Holt."

His eyebrows shoot up. "So, she is her sister."

"Indeed!" I laugh a little and he joins. "So, you dated Candace? That's some hot stuff right there, bro."

"Agreed, though she didn't look as hot as she does now." This meaning he is still in touch with her. Interesting. "She's a good girl. A bit crazy, though. What's your girlfriend's name again?"

"Veronica."

"Ah, yes. That's what Martin's 'Vee' stands for."

Wait, does this mean Martin and Alex talk about Veronica without my knowing? This makes me all curious, and Alex is quick to notice my frown. "He told me about Vee, and asked me what would I do to... how did he put it?" Oh yeah, he asked me how to 'Get two people to bang each other'."

BANG EACH OTHER?! WHAT? VERONICA AND ME?!

Keep your cool, John. Don't let him see that you're an inexperienced little twat. I also try my best to keep my voice down, since a bunch of people are coming into the cafeteria right now. Which is kind of stupid, because trying to remain invisible while sitting with Alex, the British Punk dude, in a high school cafeteria is like trying to will your heart to stop pumping.

"Wha... what did you tell him?"

To my surprise, Alex laughs. Out loud.

"Well, that's not something anyone has any control over, is it?"

I try not to show my relief, but it's hard not to deflate in my chair.

"Of course, it's not!"

"Well, I told him as much."

"John Foster?" A tiny voice calls my name and I turn around to see a familiar face staring at mine. "So, it really is you!"

"Leah... Rayleigh?" One weird thing about moving to a new town, is that it's hard figuring out if a face belongs where you live, or to the place you left. My memory is kind of fuzzy, but I believe this is the girl that used to follow me around at Crescent Barks. The one I used to hide from.

"Riley. But close enough. Been a while!" She finds a stray chair and pulls it up right next to me. This is when she notices Alex. "Whoa. Flashy dude right there."

"You may call me Alex," he says, not even concerned. "Are you guys friends?"

"We went to school together last year."

Her hand glides to her hair, as long and silky as Veronica's, except bright blonde like mine. On closer inspection, she's a fairly pretty girl with bright, big green eyes and a big smile to match. Martin would be glad to meet her. Alex kicks my foot lightly, most likely to make me aware that I'm staring.

"I thought he didn't have many friends back there," he says with a grin.

"And you're right!" She points a finger at Alex. "He was always too shy." She turns to me. "Still shy, I assume?"

"Well, yeah." I laugh a little, but it doesn't make me feel any more comfortable. This is really awkward, and I wish my legs could respond to my brain when it is clearly telling them to make a run for it.

"We'll work on that," she assures me, and pulls on my arm, pretty much Veronica-style. "Come on; show me your new school." Then, realizing that Alex is still there, says, "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not one bit. I still have some reading to do." He smiles, waving his book for us to see and gives Leah a wink. It's hard to explain how incredibly cool he looks doing that. It's one of those things you kind of want to practice in front of a mirror.

And then Leah is pulling me out of the cafeteria before my legs have time to catch up, but as soon as we're out the door, we stumble upon Martin. Somehow Leah seems to know Martin and I know each other and comes to an abrupt stop. Or maybe she just noticed him, like pretty much every other girl I've ever known does (except for Veronica). Either way, Martin quickly notices that a girl who isn't my girlfriend is pulling on my arm, and his eyes narrow above his grin; a perfect blend of suspicious and impressed.

Like I said: hell is looming over the earth, and ready to smother us.

"Well, well. Aren't you full of surprises, cousin?" Martin says.

"Cousin?" Leah's curiosity perks up.

"Yep, this is my cousin Martin," I say, trying to normalize the whole situation before Martin complicates things. They gaze into each other's eyes with completely different expressions. While Leah is genuinely curious, Martin is genuinely planning to flirt his way through this.

"It runs in the family, then..." she says, releasing my arm, and standing up a little straighter.

"What does?" Martin and I say in unison.

"You're actually terribly handsome," she tells my cousin, and I have to wonder how it is that some people can actually say such things out loud like it's no big deal.

"Thank you," he says, easy, cocky, absolutely aware that he is fixing her with his devilish gaze. A dimple forms right next to his grin. "So, I don't think I've had the pleasure yet."

"Oh!" I jolt back to life. "This is Leah Riley. She's from Sunset Central."

"An old friend from school, I assume?" He replies, now talking to me. "Because I don't recall, you ever mentioning having a girlfriend back there."

"G-Girlfriend?!" I almost choke on the word, heat creeping up my neck.

"You look good together, you know," he says, and turns to Leah. "I'm guessing you liked him back there, but he was a clueless dead log with a tendency to run away."

"Whoa, you know him pretty well."

Wait a second, is she admitting she actually liked me?

"Yup, he's my best friend after all," Martin says.

"Wait, so is he still running away from everyone?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Hey! It's me you're talking about here," I protest.

Both of them stop for a second to look at me, as if I just walked in the room. Then they turn back to each other again like I didn't.

"This is actually the first time I get to talk to him without him darting away."

"Dude, that's cold," Martin says, frowning.

"I thought so at first, but then I figured out he was just shy."

"So, what about it, Johnny?" Martin asks. "You like the girl or not?"

"Oh," I say. "So now I'm actually a part of this conversation?"

"Just chill and answer the question."

But instead, I walk away. Except Leah trails behind, not two steps away.

"Whoa, wait up, John!"

I walk all the way to the far end staircase, my fists balled-up at my sides.

"I mean, YOU KNOW I have a girlfriend now, Martin!" I yell, even though my cousin isn't even following me.

I sit under the staircase and hug my knees to my chest. I expected Leah to walk away after I said the word, "girlfriend", but to my surprise, she actually sits down next to me in a full-scale déjà vu from that first day I spent with Veronica here.

"Looks like your cousin is quite a handful," she says softly.

"You got that right!" I spit out. It's not her fault Martin is an asshole, but I'm ready to bite her outta here if she sits any closer.

She sighs a sigh for the ages—one of those you let out when you've been busy all day and you're totally spent. Or when you're totally done with something. And I just can't help it; it diffuses my anger and sends it flying out the closest window.

"Okay, here's the deal," she starts, but takes a solid pause, probably to make sure I'm listening.

I look up at her but she's staring straight ahead. "I totally wasn't expecting to find you here of all places. In fact, I looked for you all over school when classes started, and then someone mentioned that you moved away, but nobody could tell me where."

My stomach clenches, because I think I know what's coming.

"Thing is," Leah says, "Yeah, I did used to like you, quite a lot in fact. I liked the fact that you were mysterious and quiet, like you were holding in some kind of killer secret. And I still like your big blue eyes and the way they look as though you can see things that nobody else can. Which I know, sounds silly and cheesy."

Well, to be honest, I used to think the same thing about Veronica. So, if it's silly and cheesy, I might as well be silly and cheesy too. I keep these thoughts to myself because, as usual, I know they sound better in my head.

When Leah realizes I have nothing to say, she continues. "So, when I saw you in the cafeteria just now, I thought I might as well try and get the chance to spend some time with you, and try one more time to find out what your voice sounds like, at least. So, mission accomplished, I guess."

"Did I really run away as much as you guys say?" I ask sheepishly.

"Yeah. I stopped counting the fourth time you dashed away."

"Wow. And you still liked me? No offense, but that's kind of crazy."

She gives a lighthearted laugh, like she's used to be called crazy, which is even crazier.

"And probably pretty sad," she admits.

And then, I run out of steam. We don't talk for a while, which allows me to think and overthink about who I am, and who I used to be, and about how I've changed. Like, for instance, the miraculous fact that I don't feel the urge to run away from her right now. Or, how the other day at Veronica's house, I didn't need to run away either. And because I'm capable of empathy, I try to imagine myself in the shoes of Leah Riley whenever John Foster, the kid she likes, runs away from her like she has lice, or some kind of plague. And then I imagine how I would feel if it were Veronica, running away from me like I was a disease. Or Martin, or Aunt Sugar. And then it sinks in, all the way down to the pit of my stomach. The abandonment, the despair; those complex emotions plummet and then settle like a boulder dropped in water. It's a sad image, seeing the people you cherish running away from you. The only thing I can offer Leah right now is a pair of sincere, although weak words.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it," she says, and I notice her mood is still as cheerful as it was when she first talked to me in the cafeteria, which oddly enough was less than ten minutes ago. I wonder why we're talking so easily like this, as if we have been doing so for ages. "At any rate it was for the best," she finishes.

"What was?"

"You know. You being... you."

"I still don't know what you're talking about," I tell her.

Leah smiles. "Look, if you weren't the runaway kind, maybe our story would have been different. Maybe we could have gotten to know each other better and become friends. I mean, I wanted to be more than just friends and who knows, perhaps that also might have happened."

"Huh." I don't even know how to answer to that, but I want her to know I'm listening, somehow.

"But in the end, even if we'd become a thing, you'd have moved away anyway." She hugs her legs close to her chest like me, lets the side of her face rest on her knees and smiles up at me.

There's no denying it; Leah Riley is indeed, a great girl. I could have known her better had I stayed back in Sunset Central, and I'm sorry I didn't give her a chance when we had one.

"But," Leah says, "that would've been bad in the end, so like I said, it probably was for the best."

"No attachments, huh." I smile back at her, and her own smile widens. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I fish for it to find a message from Martin:

If you're still with the new chick, watch your back. Vee's here and looking for you.

"Shit," I say, because it'd be pretty bad if Veronica found Leah and I here in this situation, but before I have time to formulate another thought, there is my beautiful girlfriend, walking down the stairs in search of me, knowing well enough where to find me. And when she turns my way, finally spotting me, I see her whole face transform in slow motion. First there's her smile which lasts as little as it takes her to notice the blonde girl next to me, in 'our' spot. Veronica's brows furrow, and the corners of her mouth sink.

And then, because I know what she's thinking, I jump to my feet and say the very thing I shouldn't; the one and only thing that has the power to make everything so much worse:

"Veronica! It's not what it looks like!"