A/N: I do not own Ipod, or the song "Lose Myself" by Lauren Hill. Don't sue me...I don't have any money...

“Samantha Johnson,” the name rolled off the girl's lips so smoothly as if it on, on it's own, decided to escape. The girl, in her plaid boy-shorts, reclined on a bench just outside of her school and looked up at the overcast sky. Her class was actually in session and could probably see her from the window.

“Sam,” she repeated. No matter how any times she said it, it came out the same. The inflection and intonation changed, but she always she still feel the same: jealous. “If,” she said softly, in almost a purr. “If I could be her for just a day, a single day,” the girl smiled at her idle wish. “I'd either ruin her or fall in love.” Smiling at the thought of herself falling in love, the girl closed her eyes. It was a ridiculous notion love. Even loving one's self was a dangerous action.

Sitting up and pulling out her black military-style cap out of her pocket, she sighed. She jammed her hands in her pockets, just as it started to rain and walked to her car.

I used to love without fear a long time ago and all I ever wanted was love

Riley Smith, the red-headed girl thought to herself as she sat in class listening to Mr. Patterson lecture on the science of Economics. She sighed heavily as the teacher emphasized something that she wrote down twenty minutes ago. Riley Smith, if could be you.

Nobody would find that name familiar. No one would badger her about Honor Society, or Photo Club, or college applications, or Band practice, or any of the other million things the freckled redhead was involved in. All this thinking just reminded her that she needed to get fitted for her Marching Band uniform. If I knew how to say no, I wouldn't be in this fix. She grumbled to herself.

“Ms. Johnson?” Mr. Patterson rumbled and patted the balding spot on the back of his head. “The test is tomorrow. I hope you are paying attention.”

Samantha hid the queasiness that always erupted in her belly when she heard him speak. He hissed and rolled his 'r's slightly. Blushing slightly, she sunk down in her seat. “I am Mr. Patterson...” she said meekly. She usually always paid attention. Today, she just felt distracted. The teacher turned his back and Samantha Johnson could swear she felt the eyes of her peers boring in to her.

Then someone came around and tired to hurt me

Riley drove her car. She wasn't really aiming to go anywhere. The nose of her car seemed to follow the flow of traffic. It seemed to be headed in the general direction of her father's office. Where she worked in the basement as the mail girl.

He only agreed to let me work there because Mommy Dearest wants me out of the house so she could bang the pool boy without being interrupted. Riley's lips fell into a grim smile. “I bet Samantha Johnson doesn't have a mother that cheats on her husband.” As soon as she said it, she knew she shouldn't have. Riley knew nothing about Sam and her home life.

She decided to go to work early, having nothing better to do. Mr. Smith, the big tax attorney, wouldn't notice that his only daughter was skipping school. Riley was used to being ignored. It wasn't hard to ignore her. She only spoke when spoken to, and even then only when she was asked a question. And then she replied in a cold tone with as few as words as she possibly could. That was a type of conversation that people generally avoided.

Riley was pretty. She wasn't extraordinarily beautiful. She had a face that was nice to look at, full lips, pointed chin, arched eyebrows. Her black eyes were slightly unsettling. It made people do a double take and then slowly back away, because Riley was annoyed with them staring at her face.

Riley plopped down in the mail room, looking at the piles of packages that were marked urgent. She just shrugged and leaned back in her chair to stare at the ceiling. “Sam doesn't have to do this,” she said idly.

Tried to make me feel like I was unworthy

I'm late! Sam thought frantically to herself. Running through empty halls in order to make it before the Band instructor started. She knew that one of the teacher's pet peeves and maybe only pet peeve was students arriving late and interrupting practice.

Skidding to a halt, groaning as she heard the trumpets start up through the door. She pulled out a sheet of paper and a roll of tape, for she was always prepared. Scribbling a note apologizing for missing practice, Sam just hung her head and started for home. “Riley Smith doesn't leave notes,” she muttered dejectedly. She was going to hear loads of grief the next day about missing practice. “At least, I can get home early, this one day.”

Retrieving a small umbrella, the seventeen year old regretted not driving today when she saw the rain. She had forgot to check the weather channel. So she wasn't always prepared. But Sam did always have that umbrella in her backpack. It was habit of hers to always carry it with her. Riley, she knew drove a bright red mustang, with twin stripes going down the back, while she drove her old Honda Accord. With a jealous sigh, Sam recalled watching the darked haired girl walk out to her car, nearly everyday while school was in session.

Why couldn't she be brave or audacious like Riley? Why did she have to be stuck in school, doing a million things asked of her by random people who didn't even know her?

Sam actually didn't live far from the school. It took maybe fifteen minutes to walk home and only five when she drove (not counting the time to start and park her car). Walking, she had convinced herself kept her fit. Not that she needed the extra help, with stress and a million activities to keep her busy, she stay trim and fit no problem. Trudging through the rain, Sam groaned inwardly as she saw her father's pickup parked behind her car. Pete, her younger brother, peaked out of his bedroom window.

Tightening her jaw, she prepared herself for what awaited her.

Took a pure love and tried to make it dirty

Riley left work around 5:00 PM and sped all the way home. Actually, she had delivered all the backed up mail she should have delivered ages ago. There was no explaining her apathetic nature. But she was tired from working. A different type of tired than when she came home from the dojo, it wasn't fulfilling when she worked in the mail room.

Her mother's BMW was in her spot, because the pool boy's truck was in hers. Riley noted this as sh pulled into her driveway. She now had to park on the street. Because she couldn't just leave her car in the driveway. She'd just have to move it when her dad came home. Now pissed from walking 100 yards from her car to her front door, she slammed said door as hard as she possibly could.

“Kenneth?” She heard her mother call from the deck that overlooked the pool.

“He's not home!” The gruff, feminine voice of Carolyn Smith's daughter snapped in response. “You and your lover are safe.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Smith replied, obviously relieved. “Sophia made dinner.” Having become numb to bitter comments about her affair, the older woman wisely ignored the previous statement. With an arched eyebrow, she watched her daughter stomp up the stairs. She flinched when she heard the door slam.

Riley would be hungry later, but at the moment, she just couldn't deal with being around anyone. A door slammed again, after she entered her room. Sighing, she switched on the stereo and flopped onto her bed. Today more than usual she wished to be the red head beauty that every wanted to be, love, or whatever. A grim smile settled on her face. Riley wanted a piece of that.

The music continued to play as Riley's eyes got heavier and heavier.

Truth was they never did deserve me. No!

Her father was asleep in his favorite chair, with his favorite glass, and a bottle of his favorite drink at his feet. Sam breathed easier and then tiptoed past him. Upstairs, she knocked lightly on her brothers door.

“Pete?” She called in a near whisper to her brother. A scruffy younger boy with Sam's red hair and freckles cracked the door and peeked out. “Did you eat?” His head bobbed and his hair fell into his eyes. “Homework?” He nodded. “Clean clothes?” Pete nodded again and Sam left him alone.

This was how it was when Sam's father was home. Both children just let him sleep. They tiptoed around the house, not using appliances or water, holing up in their rooms. Most of the time it worked, and he was gone by the morning.

Riley would just tell him to suck a dick and be done with it, Sam thought. Why can't I be strong like that? She tossed her books on her bed, pulling out her Ipod mini from her backpack.

She fell back onto her bed, with the full intention of studying. Either the music or the afterglow of the storm, or both made that increasingly difficult until she finally gave up and laid back on her bed shut her eyes.

I had to lose myself so I could love you better
I had to lose myself, had to lose myself so I could
love you better
Had to lose myself, had to lose myself
So I could love you better
Had to lose myself in love
And that’s just the way it is…

Oddly enough, both the girls ended up listening to the same song at the same time feeling the same sentiments in their respective last moments of consciousness. Who knew their wishes would be granted?