A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long. I’ve been perfecting, and now since I’m tired of doing that, I posted it. Let me know how I can fix it. I’m not satisfied with the end of this paragraph either. Most of these names are Irish so I have the pronunciation next to them.

Read and review. Please and thank you!

I write this story to Gaelic princess, NowNameless, and Lonely Cupid! They have pushed and pushed for a story from me, so here it is.

It’s Nothing

Chapter One

It was the beginning of April and the day was sunny and warm with a cool sea breeze whipping in over the coast line that was two miles south of the little town, Thompsonville. Extending upward on the western side of the town to the northern part was a thick forest. Small hiking trails existed and weather-beaten, faded, and outdated maps were available in the paint-chipped wood structures that gave the history of the beach town. A long road and sugarcane fields connected Thompsonville to the eastern neighboring city.

Niamh (neev) stepped off of the school bus and onto her driveway absorbing the beautiful day. She was a petite teenager. Niamh stood at about five feet three inches tall and she had the build of a professional ballerina. She walked up the cement stairs and onto the front porch, and passing between two columns she unlocked the cream door to her quaint brick home and was greeted by her soft, long-haired, white cat, Ailbe (awl-bay), which was Irish for ‘white’. Faolan was her dog. He was part wolf and part German Shepard, and he was beautiful.

Her home was like most of the others in her neighborhood; it was a middle class brick home with a chimney and shutters, four bedrooms and two baths. There was a living room and a den. There was nothing extravagant about it, but it was home. The laundry room was in the back of the house, off of her mum’s room. Her mum, Dierdre (deer-druh), had divorced her husband, Niamh’s father, when Niamh was two.

Dierdre worked two towns over as a nurse at the hospital. Since Niamh was now a teenager she was able to work longer hours without having to worry about being home when she got off of the bus. She liked having her daughter being 16 years old, they were able to talk to each other like close friends, and she could help out around the house by keeping up the laundry and dishes and on occasion, cooking supper.

Niamh put down her Chemistry and English III books and searched for an afternoon snack before starting her homework, which consisted of solving scientific equations for tomorrows experiment and writing a short essay on the first chapter of Beowulf. She found leftover fruit salad from the night before and spooned some into a bowl for herself. As always Ailbe was being overly affectionate due to the fact that there was food present.

“No, you can’t have any,” Niamh firmly told him knowing she would succumb to his pleas.

“Okay, you can lick the bowl.” She smiled when she saw the look of triumph on her cat’s face.

She stepped out onto the back porch, overlooking the quiet woods behind her home, holding her bowl of cold fruit. Niamh sat down on the white wicker chair that matched their other back porch furniture. Ailbe sat next to her patiently waiting for the sweet sticky syrup left in the bottom of the bowl, just for him. After feeling that he had waited long enough he sat up on his haunches and tapped her arm with his white paw. Niamh peered into her bowl and seeing that he was right, she was nearly done; she placed the bowl at his feet, and he happily lapped up the syrup and ate at the few peaches she had left for him as a treat.

She took away the bowl when he had licked it dry, and they walked inside together. Knowing it was time for homework; Niamh opened her Chemistry book and opened her school bag for a pencil. She opened the desktop icon on her computer for playing CD’s on the computer. The music began; the sounds of a classical piano filled the home and swept Niamh up into an exhilarated calm. Twenty minutes later she was finished with Chemistry and began her essay. Her essays were always impressive so she knew she didn’t have to work as hard. After thirty more minutes her homework was completely finished. Her CD still had one song left so Niamh remained seated at her computer desk listening to it while she checked her e-mail.

The song ended and the home was once again engulfed in silence. She exited the websites she was on and wandered into the living room to turn on the television. There weren’t any T.V. shows on that were worth watching so Niamh searched for a movie on the movie channels. There was still nothing that interested her so she tossed down the remote and went down the long hallway cast in shadows to her room to fetch her drawing notebook and charcoals. A faint knock sounded at the door.

“Coming!” Niamh shouted up the hallway.

She got to the front door and peered through the curtains to see a rather unattractive view of a face smashed against the window. The face belonged to David Porter, a boy, older than her by a month; they’d lived next door to one another since they had come into the world. She rolled her eyes and gave him a false look of exasperation; he wasn’t fazed by it; he’d grown up with that look.

Niamh unlocked the door and flung the door open quickly, sending David falling inward towards her. He caught himself and stood up straight. Niamh rolled her eyes again but was smiling.

David was roughly six feet tall and 180 pounds of muscle. He had rich brown hair and emerald green eyes that girls at school drooled over. His self-confidence bordered on egotistical but it was hard not to like him. Being a typical teenage boy, he was a sports fanatic, and a fan of mostly football. When baseball season arrived he kept up with the teams and players but was more excited that football would soon be there.

“So, what was your day like?” David asked as he walked over to the refrigerator to see what there was to eat.

“Oh not too much. The usual. Havin’ trouble in calculus as always.”

“Ha. No surprises there.”

“Shutup!”

“Why what are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, is that a challenge?”

“Maybe, but you’re not gonna do anything anyway.”

“Shutup.”

“That’s not very nice.” David responded trying to look serious.

“Neither are you!” Niamh snapped jokingly.

This was a typical afternoon. Talk, joke, tease, and threaten. It had always been that way. When they were younger however, the threatswere a reality. They never did any real damage, just a few broken bones, nothing major.

David shrugged his shoulders and walked into the living room and turned on the television. Niamh sat down at the computer and checked her website of her and her friend, Caoilainn’s (kay-lin) artwork for add-ins and requests.

Out of nowhere a shriek filled the house; it was Niamh. David had snuck up behind her and jabbed his fingers into her sides. Soon she was being tickled. Niamh was screaming and shouting but he would not let up. She would twist and turn and try to cover herself but nothing helped. He’d find a new place. She tried holding on to his wrists but he managed with his strength to wriggle free from her small grasp.

David stopped and he was holding her wrists; they were both breathing exceptionally hard. He wasn’t very far away from her face but this was nothing new, being close to one another didn’t make them uncomfortable.

He was bent over her and looking into her eyes and smiling, then he glanced at her lips and was no longer smiling when he looked back up into her crystal blue eyes. Niamh was confused.

He bent closer and let his soft over-experienced lips brush against hers. His lips gently coaxed hers open and they were kissing like they had always been that way with each other.

She had only ever been in one relationship before. It had lasted seven and a half months, so she knew how to kiss, but kissing David was completely different than when she kissed her last boyfriend. She felt more comfortable with David, but at the same time, wasn’t enjoying it because she knew that what they were doing couldn’t be right.

Her right hand found its place resting behind David’s neck and occasionally playing with his dark chocolate brown hair. Both of his large teenager hands were wrapped around her very small waist.

“Where is this gonna go?” Niamh thought. “Does he like me?”