Author’s note: First off: thank you for coming here.  I’m honored.  :o) If you know me, this is the story I’m constantly thinking out loud about.  Just so you know, there are a few issues in Fiona’s life that are important to the story, but that I have no expertise on, and I really don’t want to offend anybody—that’s the last thing I want to do.  Please please please, if you know anything about them and can make any suggestions, email me!!  I cannot tell you how grateful I would be.  :o)  Thanks!

Chapter 1

“A Beautiful Day”

I walked through the parking lot with a spring in my step.  Not for any particular reason, today was no better than most.  School had been dull, as usual, and no miracles had taken place with my Father.  But something had lightened my spirit—as well as my backpack, though credit for this I granted in part to my history professor—to such a degree that I had intentionally chosen the least convenient parking space in the lot, and inclined myself to walk the short distance to my—for I considered it chiefly my—apartment.

Perhaps it was the cheerful sun, whose rays were trying desperately to make up for lost time by unmercifully beating down on the snow and thawing the ice, which urged me to reflect its good spirits.  Or perhaps it was the effect of the birds, just now returning back after the long, hard winter.  Up in their ready-to-bud treetops, they merrily sang their joyous melodies in celebration of the long-awaited arrival of spring.

Or it could have simply been the overall disposition the outside world seemed to be in which rubbed off on my usually dampened spirits.  Regardless; I, Fiona Watts, was on cloud nine.

I slowed my usual brisk and efficient pace to a lazy amble and, closing my eyes, tilted my head back slightly to soak in the sun, taking momentary pleasure in the light tingle its heat brought to my face, and the searing glow that reached my eyes through their lids.  I drifted from where I stood so contented in the parking lot to Heaven… a glorious golden gate loomed before me to my right, and the voices of a thronging choir of angels filled the air with majestic exuberance.  Coming towards me, and surrounded by a pale white light was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen—my mother.  I hugged my schoolbooks to my chest in delight.  –Wait, schoolbooks?  That couldn’t be right….

I was jolted back to reality by a tap on my shoulder.  Disoriented and a bit exasperated by the interruption of my daydream, I snapped, “What?” without stopping to think.  In a flash, my golden gate was back to the decomposing wooden doorway that led to the apartment complex’s stairwell; my angels shrank to birds, and my mother transformed into—Andrew Larson?

What was he doing, standing there and grinning at me?  And w—

“Hooonk!”  I leapt into the air, blown nearly out of my senses by what I soon gathered to be the demanding horn of a large white van, as I had whirled around to find its headlights staring back at me.  Thankfully, there was more than sufficient daylight, and therefore the aforementioned headlights weren’t in use.

“Hey, kid!”  The driver stuck his pink, fleshy, balding head out of the window and waved a porky fist in my direction.  “You gonna move or what?”

It was then that I noticed that I was standing squarely in the middle of the one remaining empty parking space by the building.  Seeing that I was more than a little out of sorts, Andrew grabbed my elbow and half dragged me onto the sidewalk.

The man slowly pulled his vehicle into the now vacant space.  I noticed two lines of purplish blue lettering on the side of his white van.  As it became legible, I read, “Marvin’s Carpet Cleaners,” and on the line below there was a series of bolded printed numbers, presumably the company’s phone number.

As I stared, he got out of the driver’s seat and sauntered around to the back of the van, out of my sight.  The doors opened, and soon he reappeared, muscles bulging, and round face turning a deeper shade of red with every step.  He had his massive arms around a large device, which I suppose must have been related to carpet cleaning, as his van and matching purple-blue polo shirt suggested.

“Fiona!”  Immediately forgetting the man and his truck, I turned to fully face Andrew for the first time all day.  Probably, I mused, the first time ever.  I got the impression that he’d been trying to get my so wandering attention for a good long time now, as his face wore a smugly amused half smile.  “Ah, so you’re not ignoring me.  Where’ve ya been?”  He waved his hand tauntingly in front of my eyes.

Once again, my previous bewilderment kicked in.  “Andrew Larson!  What are you doing here?”  I realize my words weren’t oh so very polite, but granted, neither were his.  Imagine, just showing up practically on my doorstep, and for no apparent reason!  Not that I’d given much of a chance to speak….

Looking a bit put off by my reaction, he decided to jump right to the point.  “Well, I was wondering if you were doing anything tomorrow night.”

Aah.  Now I understood.  My, my, Andrew Larson was asking me to a date.  Who’d have thought?  I barely knew him, but we had gone to the same school… well, as long as I could remember; we certainly weren’t strangers.  This day was only improving!  I smiled.  “Nope, I’m totally free.”  I considered this for a moment, then added, “After I finish work at four-thirty.”

I never had been one to play hard to get.  For that matter, I’d never been one to play much of anything.  My life at home was so complicated, and my social life was so… well, nonexistent, that it was all I could do not to jump at the chance for a night out.

However, a ‘night out’ suddenly did not seem to be what he had in mind.  “How about the next day?  You doing anything Wednesday night?”

“Nooo….”  I was growing suspicious.  I had detected an indistinct smirk on his gorgeous face.  What was he getting at?

“Or Thursday night?”

“No, I’m not.  W—“

“How about Friday night?”  His smirk became a shameless grin, and I could all but hear his internal laughter at my social hopelessness.

But my response wasn’t what he was so amusedly anticipating.  “Yes.”  I said firmly, “I’m busy Friday night, not that it’s any business of yours.”

Andrew looked mildly shocked.  “Are you, now?  What are you doing?”

I inwardly groaned.  I was going to be the laughingstock of Central High, but I felt somehow obligated to answer, now that I’d allowed myself to be drawn this far into his little ploy.  “Working,” I said evenly, “At the bookstore.”

He laughed most inconsiderately, and I whirled, fuming and humiliated, to exit to the safety of my apartment.  But, his laughter fading, he stopped me.  “Wait!”  He called.

I turned slowly, my guard up against any further ridicule.  Pursing my lips and raising my eyebrows expectantly, I waited for him to continue.

“Look, do you want to go out tomorrow night or what?”

Of all the ways to ask a person.  I hesitated only a moment before saying lightly, “Nope,” and left Andrew Larson, on of the most popular seniors in the school, goggling at my back.