I was walking home, feeling the wind blow into my hair. The sky was dark and gloomy, my favorite type of weather. I really liked it when it rained. It was soothing. And just as I thought that, I felt a little drop of water strike my shoulder. I smiled. I'll sleep well tonight. I finally spotted my house. It's a tall house, white and bricked. The two sides on the left and right were brick, but the front and back were white. It sat on top of a large grassy hill. I began to walk up the hill, hoping that I wouldn't drop anything so it would roll back down.

I walked in my house, the front door unlocked as usual, and of course, no one was home. It's just me and mom. My father disappeared one late night when I was only a little girl. My mother cried that night. It was also the night when my dad would usually come home drunk. I was sort of hoping that one day he would disappear, he treated me and mother wrong. But ever since he left, I grew a unwanted fear of isolation. When he would be home, there would be loud screams of anger from mom and him, and the word silence never existed. But now, it's like the word silence brought him and his friends over to my house to live there forever.

As I walked in, I checked the back of the door for a note. My mom would always tell me where she went so that I wouldn't worry. But this time, I saw nothing behind the door. I shrugged. Perhaps she forgot. I walked upstairs towards my room, glancing at a family photo on the wall as I walked. It was a picture of my mom and I, with my father's face and body scratched out with a sharpie. I opened the door of my room, and slammed it shut. I threw the pouch that I always kept with me on the bed, and then collapsed along with it. I turned over to my nightstand, and blew up the rock radio station. Rock and roll and the now thunderous like weather went together quite well. I closed my eyes, and thought about today.Today was the day I graduated high school.

Of course nobody in my family showed up, considering the fact that my mom works 24/7 to pay off the mortgage on the house. But my friends supported me like any family would. I then began to think about an offer one of my friends, Brandon, offered to me. He said to me, "you are welcome to stay by my house anytime you feel lonely."

I kept pondering about it.

Brandon was an interesting creature. He loved to skateboard and listen to the same music I do. He could play electric guitar, and he also knew just how to annoy me. But I liked when he annoyed me. It was amusing. As I continued to think about it, I found that I wanted to go to his house more than ever. "Alright... time to get out of bed," I muttered to myself. I rolled off my bed, and grunted as my body struck the floor. I grabbed a leather jacket that was on the floor beside me, and threw it on. I got up, looking at my feet which were in some converses, and walked out of my room with the music still playing. I wanted my house to seem like there was someone home so that we couldn't get robbed.

You can't be too careful. I walked downstairs, glancing at the umbrella that was leaning against a corner. I smirked, and instead of getting it like a normal person, I walked outside in the rain. I ran down the hill, mud beginning to splatter on my ripped jeans. I smiled in satisfaction. I saw that the edges of the roads were already being consumed by the rain. I felt my now soggy hair crinkle against my ears. I kept running forward, towards the sidewalk, and ran towards Brandons house. He lived only a couple blocks away, thank God. I noticed that I was the only person outside. Usually there would be a gang out here, leaning against the great oak tree at the corner of Erwin Drive. They always had lollipops in their mouths, and would usually mock me. I always wore the same shirt and pants, and would have my leather jacket on. My shirt is black, with the MTV sign on it. They always said I was a dirty pig, since once again, I never changed my clothes.

The gang calls themselves, The Bed Heads. The first thing that popped into my mind when I first heard of this name, was, "how stupid! This sounds like a girly fandom group!" But boy was I wrong. The group consists of 6 people, 4 boys and 2 girls. One of the boys was named Zackary. Just Zackary. Nobody quite knew his last name. He dressed up like any high school sweetheart, black hair, green eyes, leather jacket, white t-shirt and dark jeans. He was basically the hot boy of the whole group, not to mention he was also the leader. I would say that he was the nicest of the bunch however, because he barely ever speaks. Like any hippie might say, "he talks through his eyes." Another one of the boys was named Mark. Mark Hughes. He had that beach boy look, you know, blonde hair and light blue eyes. But he was more of a demon beach boy to me. A demon, because anyone that doesn't look like him and isn't part of the group, gets a punch to the stomach. Only a pure demon would do that. He dressed up like his figure should, t-shirt, shorts. Then there was the slut of the group, Valerie Hamilton. She slept with... I can't count how many guys already. She dresses up slutty too, with a shirt that only stops right below her chest so her belly shows, and she has shorts so short, you could see the lace of her underpants. She also has very long hair, with a nice hazel brown. Now, here's the chatterbox of the group, George Howerton. It's non stop with this guy. He's always talking about gibberish. He has a ragged t-shirt and wears long jeans that cover up his feet. He has long black hair, and deep brown eyes. I can't know more about him, because he chats so much, nobody knows much!Then little Miss Perfect, Gracie Owens. She dresses up like she's going to prom everyday. A long dress, makeup, and hair always up in a ponytail or bun. She's a straight A student and a germaphobe. She literally has hand sanitizer attached to her little purse, and she always puts some on every 10 minutes.Then the last one, Grayson dell. I know, what a stupid last name, Dell. But he was the meanest of them all. He is known for his anger issues. I've heard that he almost killed a guy. He's very tall, always wearing dark clothing.

But, anyway, I didn't see them. They were probably out beating up a 12 year old somewhere near the field. I was nearing Brandons house, and decided not to stop running. I was already a filthy mess from mud splattering all over me after each step, but I couldn't care less, either could Brandon. That's another thing I liked about him

He could never judge anyone, it doesn't matter who you are, he would not judge you. The only way he would ever judge anyone, is if they hurt others in any possible way. I'm no rude person, but get on my bad side and you'll be asking for a bloody nose. I finally made it to Brandons house, which was a small house made entirely of brick and a sleek roof. I ran to the front porch, and knocked.

"Brandon? It's me, Hannah." I shouted. I heard the thundering of footsteps and frantic moving behind the door. I grabbed my arm, and stood as I waited for him to open the door. I continued to feel rain fall on me, making my clothes stick to me. I finally heard the click of the lock, and the familiar face of Brandon stared at me.

"Why are you all wet? Did you come here without an umbrella?" said Brandon, scratching his head.

"Well you know me, I couldn't care less about the rain." I replied, smiling. Brandon chuckled.

"Get inside," he continued to laugh. I stepped in, my clothes dripping water and mud onto his rug at the door.

"Hold on, let me get you a change of clothes. No way will I let you lay on anything with that sort of clothing!" Brandon scurried into the hallway, and into a room on the left. I looked around at his home.

To the left and right of me were two potted plants, while in front of me was a beige colored carpet and some paintings on the wall. Perhaps stuff that Brandon painted. I leaned over, hoping to have a good glance at one of them. But I didn't have the chance as Brandon ran over to me with the change of clothes.

"I know these are big, but it's better than being stuck in that clothing! I can wash it for you if you want," Brandon offered. I smiled and looked him in the eye.

"That would be sweet, thank you." I said. "Where can I change?"

"In front of me..." Brandon said. I laughed hysterically, and punched his shoulder playfully.

"I didn't come here to make out and get nude. I came here for company." Brandon laughed along with me.

"Alright alright, I was just joking. Come with me, you can just use my bathroom. When you're done you can hand me your other clothing and I'll wash it," he said. I nodded, and he began to walk back into his room. I followed, noticing that his room had an explosion of clothing. He pointed to the bathroom.

"In there. Don't worry, I don't have a camera in there," he said. I laughed again, and walked in, locking the door behind me. I had trouble taking off my clothing, since it insisted on sticking against my skin, but I finally got it off. I put it on a pile in front of the bathroom sink, and grabbed the nice dry clothing. I put on a large shirt, a plain red one, and some baggy shorts. I grabbed my wet clothing, and walked out of the bathroom after undoing the lock. I handed my clothes to Brandon.

"Here. Be warned though, it's pretty disgusting," I said. Brandon smirked.

"Since when does that bother me?" He said. I shook my head, "never." He walked out of the room. I continued to look around his room. In his room were a bunch of Grateful Dead posters on his wall, not to mention Bon Jovi and Queen posters. I always thought he was so cool since he loved all those awesome bands. I took a look to the right, and saw his electric guitar, spotless on the wall. He always called it his baby. I could tell why, the thing was worth more than his house. I heard the door open, Brandon walking back in. "Please, take a seat on the bed. I won't bite." he giggled. I grinned and sat on his bed, the only thing not consumed by clothing.

"So, what's up Hannah? Lonely?" asked Brandon. I raised my hands, "bingo."

"Do you need to talk about something with me?" He asked me. "Now that you mention it..." I muttered. "I wanted to discuss this. What the hell should I do now? I can't afford college, and I don't have many friends except for you and Zoe. "

Brandon leaned his head on his hand, and stared at the wall as if pondering for an answer. He then looked at me. "Well, why don't I pay for you and I to go to college?" he said. I gasped.

"No way, no way will I let you pay for me," I quickly said. He smiled.

"I knew you would say that. Well, why don't you become a waitress or something? I know it isn't much, but it should help with money. You know you can write well, why don't you write a book or something?" he suggested. "Hmm..." I said.

"Maybe. I'll definitely do that waitress idea though. Will you work with me?" I asked him. Brandon smiled and put his arm around me.

"Of course! I can ask Zoe-"

"Not Zoe." I interrupted.

"Remember? She's going to college." I said.

Brandon's smile disappeared. "Oh. That's right. It'll still be fun with you though!" he said. I leaned against him. "There's something else I wanted to tell you." I said.

"What's up?"

"I didn't see the Bed Heads outside," I said. "Oh! They aren't outside?" He murmured, confused.

"Yup."

"Well, I don't know where they could be," Brandon said while picking up his glass of water on the nightstand. He took a sip, and made a satisfied sigh. He looked at me.

"I've known you since 5th grade, and not once have you kissed anyone. Come on, we've graduated already and you haven't kissed anybody yet?" said Brandon. I blushed in embarrassment and turned my head away, my bangs forever falling in front of my face.

"I-I know, but I want to save my first kiss for somebody special." I responded. I twirled a bit of my hair with my finger, still embarrassed. Brandon chuckled.

"Someone special, what a typical girly answer." I nudged him.

"Well I'm sorry I couldn't have said anything better!" I laughed, my embarrassment flying away like I never experienced it.

"Do you want to play truth or dare?" asked Brandon. I shrugged. "Why not? We're just sitting here and chatting."

"You first," I quickly said.

"Man! I hate going first!" groaned Brandon. I did a thumbs up in victory. He laughed and punched my shoulder lightly. "Fine, truth or dare?" he asked me. "Truth." I responded. "What's the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?" he asked me. I bursted out laughing. "Damn you! You know I hate making those kinds of confessions!" I yelled at him. "Payback's a bitch!" he laughed. "Payback?" I asked."For making me go first!" I laughed. "Ok ok. One time, I was in class and I kept having to beg the teacher to let me go to the bathroom, but of course she said no. I think you know where the story goes from there." I said.

He laughed, bending over. "You wet yourself in class?!" he said in between gasps of air. I punched him.

"It wasn't my fault! The teacher wouldn't let me go to the bathroom!" I argued. "Yeah yeah yeah, of course she didn't let you go," he said. "It's your turn," he reminded me.

"Ok ok." I said as I finally stopped laughing.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare!" he said joyfully.

"I dare you to walk outside and sing a little bit of Call Me Maybe by carly Rae Jenpsen!" I said.

"What?! That's B.S!" complained Brandon.

"You gotta do it! It's a dare! Unless you want to run around the whole neighborhood in just underwear..." I said. He groaned, and got up. He walked outside to his front porch, and loudly sang the first 30 seconds of the song while I laughed hysterically inside. He walked back inside and punched me. "You better be scared, little Hannah," he laughed. "It's your turn." I reminded him. He turned to me.

"Truth, or dare?"

"Dare," I said, knowing he would want revenge. He looked at me, and gulped.

"I-I dare you to... give me your first kiss," he blushed.

I blushed and looked away.

"W-What?""Come on, I'm special enough aren't I?" he begged.

"O-Of course you're special enough," I said.

"I-It's just that I never expected my first kiss to be with you." Brandon raised his head.

"So you'll do it?"

"It's a dare, is it not?" I said. I weakly smiled, a nervous wreck. He put his arms around me, bringing me closer to him. Our faces were inches apart. I was sweating, scared and nervous.

"Shhh... no need to be frightened," said Brandon as he moved my hair behind my ear. I gulped, "A-Alright." He moved his lips towards mine, and we kissed.

It wasn't hungry or anything, it was just a... kiss.

Only lasting for what seemed liked forever to me though. He finally pulled away, my face as red as his now. But he didn't let go of me.

"I-I had to ask for that. Otherwise you would be the worst person ever!" he smiled. I smiled back, my blue eyes staring at his green ones. I leaned against him.

"I guess that concludes our truth or dare game, does it not?" I asked.

He nodded. "I think I went too far. We can end it," he said. My stomach rumbled, and I turned my head in embarrassment.

"Haven't you eaten?" He asked me. I shook my head.

"No, I came home then went straight to your house," I said.

"Then I insist that I cook you dinner- after all, I just stole your first kiss!" he said. I laughed and waved my hands at him.

"Go ahead, I would love to eat your cooking," I said.

"What's that supposed to mean!" he laughed. I haven't realized how much I actually cared about him. I kept thinking about that waitress idea. It would be fun to work with him.

"Do you like me?" I asked him. "Is that why you wanted my first kiss?"

"Maybe..." he smiled. "Who couldn't like such a hilarious person like yourself," he said. I smiled and my face got redder.

"Go make dinner," I said, pushing him away from me. He began to walk to the kitchen.

"Just because we kissed doesn't mean we'll have sex or anything!" I shouted to him. "I read you loud and clear!" he shouted back from the kitchen. I laughed, and walked back into his room.