Chapter One

Her loosely curled red hair hung down from her head, lightly brushing her test paper as she scribbled an answer down on the answer sheet. She was finished with her Biology Mid-term thirty minutes into their ninety-minute class period. She spent the rest of the time, right up until the bell rang, checking over her test. She made sure that every possible answer was added into her Short Answer questions and that every multiple-choice question was marked right.

When the bell rang she rose from her desk, pulling her blue-jean purse onto her shoulder and handing in her test, as she headed to the door. Out in the hall she moved with the crowds, being passive she neither rushed nor dragged down the halls but shifted with the crowd as best she could. She kept her books close to her chest, so as not to drop them and didn't speak a word to anyone.

Her white skin, not pale but fair in its color, her shoulder-length red hair, hanging in loose curls, and her deep green eyes gave her a mysterious and yet passive look. To the normal eye there would be nothing extraordinary about her. She was dressed in the traditional St. Mary's Catholic School uniform, in no way ostentatious and hiding a truly beautiful body underneath.

She was raised to believe in modesty, optimism and care for everything around her. Her parents taught her that idle hands were the work of the devil, and she aligned herself with this belief, just not as extreme as her parents took it. Strangely enough, although her parents were the most intense Christians anyone could ever hope (or dread) to meet, she did not hold strong to the religious routine that was set in on her. Most of the times when the kids of St. Mary's Catholic School went in for their thirty minute sermon she could be found reading a novel in the library or working on homework in her dorm room. But she made sure to attend every Sunday service they had.

She was the quiet girl, nothing more; nothing less. The one who never spoke out of turn, who never raised her voice and who had a 4.0 GPA. Her name was Megan Davis.

"No," Charlie Garrison said, closing the door to his locker and holding his Literature notebook loosely at his side.

"Aw! Come on man!" his friend, Danny Dreggs, protested "This is fool proof! And I swear I'll pay you back!"

"Is this anything like the last time I loaned you money?" Charlie asked, "You know, when you paid me back by calling a striper who turned out to be male, gay and a fireman?"

"Okay that was bad luck," Danny said, laughing at the memory, "But I swear, twenty dollars and you're good to go. We'll split the winnings evenly! I mean if you only put forth a dollar you could get ten back!"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, "And I'm not interested."

"You'll be sorry," Danny nodded, a bit unconvincingly.

"Yeah man, I know I will." Charlie scoffed as he and Danny headed down the hall to their next class. They met a few of their other friends, Gary Turner, Anderson Crawford and Billy Stevens. They conversed in the hall up until the final bell rang and then they parted, taking their time to get to class.

Charlie opened the door to his Literature class. He walked in and the class looked to see whom it was coming into class late. The teacher, Sister Mary Anne Peebles, cocked her gaze at him and said: "Mr. Garrison, class starts immediately after the bell rings. You are late, again."

Charlie tried to hide a smile, but made sure he did so poorly, "Sorry Sister."

"Its Sister Peebles, Mr. Garrison. And you will see Principal Warnock after school today, this equals your seventh tardy in the past two weeks." Her voice was shrill and precise.

"Yes ma'am." He said in his best, unconcerned voice. He took his seat on the second row.

Charlie was the popular boy. He was handsome, tall and charming in every aspect, but did not care for school or academics in any way. Oddly enough, he managed to scrape up a D minus in order to pass his classes. His brown hair, penetrating brown eyes and tanned skin slapped the word 'heartbreaker' on his persona, and his self-confidence boosted it up even more. His ego knew no limits, therefore he was about as conceded as anyone could be. And he believed in getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

Girls wanted him, and he played that to his best. It was arguable that of his last ten relationships in the past four months that he didn't care about either one of them. Romance was lost on him, it was strictly the goal that mattered-not the journey.

Soon after Charlie took his seat Sister Peebles started passing out the Literature midterms, Charlie was the first one who turned it in. The girl who sat in front of him, Megan Davis, was the last.