It was a cold day in February. The cloudy gray skies were bright, but there was no sunlight. The air was so crisp and cold against my throat that it hurt to breath. There was some snow on the ground, but it was not more than an inch or two, and some dead brown grass was already peeking through. All in all, it was a typical winter day in the suburbs of Silvertown.

I walked quietly down the sidewalk, my hands hidden in the deep pockets of my dark Old Navy sweatshirt to keep them from getting cold. I stared at my feet as I walked, not bothering to look at the bare trees and bland landscape around me. What was the point? It’s not like there was anything new to see.

Shuffling silently, I sighed. My baggy pants rusted and my feet crunched against the salted pavement. They were the only noises I could hear in the dead development. Everyone was inside, doing something fascinating with their lives. It was a Friday night, which meant most people my age were off partying the night away in some parentless house, getting drunk and wasting perfectly good time. Or so the stories would say.

I was a senior at the local high school. I didn’t go to a boarding school, where most of those exciting stories seem to occur (maybe it’s the fact that everyone who goes to a boarding school is at least a hundred miles away from a home where they’re not even wanted…but who am I to judge?). My life is not even remotely exciting. I go to school to get good grades, I come home, I eat, and then I sleep. I have no friends. Well, I have some friends, but they’re more acquaintances than friends. Most people label me as the quiet type the moment they see me, and then never talk to me again. They’d be mostly right.

I’m a geek. I’ve got glasses, hunched shoulders, and nowhere near as athletic a build as those jocks. I’m not even “naturally built” or lithe or whatever. I’m not like those player guys who pick up a girl one night and then dump her the next, which I guess is the one quality I have that would ever appeal to girls. No one in school knows I exist, except maybe the teachers. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to a girl in my entire life, let alone had a girlfriend. Most guys would probably call me a complete failure.

At least I’ve got good grades, right?

Yeah. For some reason, that doesn’t cheer me up much.

It’s not like I put any effort in to get the amazing grades I did. It’s just something I naturally acquired. There was nothing about the whole situation to be proud of. Sure I had a 4.12 GPA, but I didn’t do anything to deserve it. There was no reason my parents should be all over me like they were, proud of my early-decision acceptance into Stanford. Okay, it was an Ivy League school that most geeks like me would give a lot to get into, but right then the only appealing thing about it was that it was on the other side of the country. I just wanted to get away from my home and school and everything about that town.

I was suddenly overcome with guilt. I had forgotten about one person, the one person that I would actually miss when I left this forsaken place. My sister. I always forgot about my sister, which made me feel even guiltier. She was only two years younger than me, which made her a sophomore. We were pretty close, but she would never admit it. She was always trying to live up to me, trying to be as good a student as I was. Our parents put a lot of pressure on us to be perfect, and unlike me, she wasn’t born with a natural talent at getting good grades. Unfortunately, my admittance into Stanford University meant there was even more strain on her to get into a college that was as good. In a way, it made me feel even guiltier (is that even possible?), but it really wasn’t my fault. I helped her in any way I could, sometimes even doing her homework for her. It wasn’t that she was stupid or anything, it just took her a while to do things. I kind of felt sorry for her, too. She was just as antisocial as me, not having any acquaintances at all. She just didn’t have the time for them. It didn’t help that she wasn’t pretty (as weird as it is to talk about my sister that way, but I’d heard it from people at school), and she was kind of…well…a teacher’s pet. She was stuck up and extremely temperamental. She had to be, to stand up to the crap our parents threw at her because she wasn’t as “perfect” as I was.

If only they knew.

I had escaped the stifling tension in our house to take a walk, even if it meant having to spend more time outside in the freezing cold. My sister (Arielle, Ari for short) was at the library, so there was no need to worry about leaving her home with the parents. I had just wanted to get away from the house, which was like the epitome of the “need to be perfect” to me. The cold was actually pleasant in a way, as long as I kept my head down and shuffled along quietly. It numbed my mind and kept me from thinking complicated thoughts. It was nice not to think, for once.

I was about to round the corner that would take me back to my street. Suddenly, I heard a tinkling laugh somewhere close by. It was so pure and beautiful that I couldn’t keep myself from looking up and into the open window of a two-story, simply styled house, nearly identical to the houses beside it.

Identical except for her.

I stopped walking to stare at the dark-haired goddess. My hands slowly fell out of my pockets as I gazed openmouthed. She was talking into her phone and laughing. Her mouth curved up perfectly, her wide and completely mesmerizing grin revealing perfect, shining, white teeth. The skin on her face was so smooth and clear, framed by loose dark brown curls the ended midway down her back. She was tall, but not too tall, and slender rather than skinny. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I was sure they would be just as perfect as the rest of her.

Somewhere in the back of the mind I registered the large moving truck parked in front of her home, and the “SOLD” sign that was sticking haphazardly out of the dirty snow in front of her house, and the plastic covered furniture and brown boxes that were slowly being moved into the house. Dimly, I realized she would probably be going to the same school as me. The distant remembrance that I, Aiden Pierce, the geek that nobody remembered, did not talk to girls crossed my mind, but I didn’t hear it. All I could see was that girl, and how perfect she was. I was nothing in comparison. She was like the pure snow; I was like the dirt underneath.

She turned slowly to look out her open window. I thought somewhere in the back of my mind that she was crazy for leaving her window open on such a cold day, but that thought was blown into oblivion as our eyes met and she looked straight at me with a gaze that seemed to pierce strait into my heart.

A/N:

Okay, that was my really fast attempt at a story, and I’m sure it’s really confusing and has a ton of mistakes, but please review and tell me if it’s worth continuing. And tell me all of the mistakes I made, and all the confusing parts and stuff (because I know it’s really bad right now). Thanks!!