Author’s note: I’m disgusting, I know. I have yet to update All I Want is You and post the revised chapters to Brown Eyes, but here I am, posting another story. But only because I’m having a massive brain cramp and this happened to be the result of that brain cramp. Happy reading! (:

Summary

Mr. Mystery asked, “Who’re we staring at?” I pinned my longing gaze at a certain Mr. Gorgeous. “I’m not staring. I’m admiring him from afar.” He obviously didn’t buy it because he said, “People call that stalking.” Well.

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Chapter one

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I loved quiet guys.

Okay, maybe I'm being a bit vague here. What I meant to say is that I'm not those girls you see out there in life who fancies those confident, strutting jocks and/or bad boys that seem to know exactly what to say in the right moment to get a girl melt in a puddle of goo right before their feet. Oddly enough, that's not exactly a turn-on for me, if you know what I mean.

Actually, it's quite the opposite. I'd rather take a shy nerd guy over an athlete any day. Smirks and arrogant grins don't make my heart beat faster. Timid and sweet boys make me grin, however. My friends say it's because I like to have the upper hand, that I'm the one that thrives on being in control.

My loving response to that is: Gosh, I would never!

They're obviously hallucinating. But really, why would I want the guy in the relationship to have the upper hand? Do girls enjoy the male overpowering them like they're nothing? Exactly. I didn't think so.

Okay, fine. So maybe I enjoy having the ability to make a boy blush. Or stutter helplessly for an answer as I bat my eyelashes flirtatiously. So what if I'm the one that loves making the first move? It shows that I've got guts, foo.

Right, so I'm getting carried away here. My point is I love guys. What sane girl doesn't? But to be more specific, I like boys that are timid, sweet, shy… basically can't approach a girl to save their life . . .

Oh, God, maybe I do thrive on having power.

But let's not dwell on that. Let us focus on the fact that I'm standing behind a bookshelf in the local library of my small, but not so small, town… possibly stalking my latest victim. Er, but maybe not that literally. But I am standing behind a bookshelf in my local library possibly averting my eyes a little too much in the direction of a certain boy. I didn't know this name yet, however, but I've got him down to either a Billy or Patrick.

My head abruptly turned to the right when Billy/Patrick looked up from the computer screen he'd been so engrossed with to give a strange look in my direction. Oh, my God. Computer geeks are awesome. We can bond on how much the internet makes our hearts race. Or how much those little icon things are so fun to click on.

Or something.

I made sure that Billy/Patrick's eyes were back to the screen before turning my gaze back to him. Pretending to grab a book I was really interested in, I flew to a near-by table and propped it in front of me (making sure I had a clear vision of Billy/Patrick).

Of course, I didn't pick my victims (er, let's call them Chosen Ones) out of no where. They had to have the right requirements. The Stance was a need. If guys (or any other person for that matter) stood a certain way, you can dictate on how confident they are (or how much they aren't) most of the time. Jocks and those other arrogant weirdos stand straight and meet peoples' gaze straight on without hesitating. They knew they were hot. Those who didn't, however, manage to slink away to the shadows where they don't want to be noticed. They didn't hold themselves up as tall as certain people, and their eyes always managed to find the ground.

I didn't know if Billy/Patrick was like that because, well, my eyes caught him when he was sitting down. Exactly the way he was sitting right now. But computer nerds were hot. Dorks were freaking sexy, and geeks just ruled. Honestly I would be interested in any guy that's not interested in sports. Or interested into getting into girls' pants, come to think of it.

Shy guys, nerds, dorks, and geeks were safe. They couldn't hurt you.

"Hey."

I blinked, suddenly alarmed. Oh, God, had I been staring at Billy/Patrick so passionately that I didn't notice him come up to me? Crap, I didn't even get the time to fix my hair!

"Hello?"

I looked up and relaxed. It wasn't Billy/Patrick. It was just some random guy with a smirk on his face. Oh, that arrogant smirk… I must put on my polite, but disinterested face. "Hi," I said cautiously without meaning to do so.

"What's your name?"

I thought fast. "Um… Amanda."

"Tell me, Amanda, what's a pretty girl like you sitting all by herself?"

I looked at him hesitantly before my eyes slowly slid over to the stack of books right beside me. Clearing my throat, I grabbed a random book and held it up to face him. "Um, reading."

"By yourself?" His chair suddenly inched closer and I grew alarmed. What was this guy doing?

"Uh, what's your name?" My voice came out as a squeak.

His smile was blinding. "Rod. Screw me if I'm wrong, but haven't we met before?"

I racked my brain. Rod… Rod? His name reminded me of fishing. "No, I'm pretty sure we haven't…."

His smile grew. "Well, then." I realized then what he said and I felt my whole body freeze in utter mortification. "Hm, Amanda?"

I could hardly move without feeling greatly disturbed by his presence. I realized then he was talking to me. "Yes?"

"I think you just stole something."

I stopped feeling disturbed for a while long enough to give him an odd look. "I did?" I couldn't help but ask. He looked at me intently and I licked my lips, inwardly debating whether I should ask the next question or not. My curiosity won out. "What is it?"

"My heart."

"…"

While I stared at him seriously wondering if this man possessed any dignity whatsoever, he glanced at his watch thoughtfully. That was probably a great time to stand up and flee, but his eyes suddenly turned to me and I felt a nasty chill crawl down my spine. Why the heck was I still sitting?

"Um, excuse me," I said politely, "but I think—"

"My magic watch says you don't have any underwear."

I blinked, utterly stupefied. What? I couldn't say anything else besides: "Um, yes, I do."

He slowly lifted his eyes and grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Damn," he drawled. "It must be fifteen minutes fast."

I couldn't help it but my jaw dropped. I sputtered and tried to say something witty but it was impossible. I couldn't even find the words to express my utter disbelief and disturbance. This is a fine example, everyone, why confident people like him should really be deprived of this certain ability. If they use it like this, well… One thing's for sure: I feel like a total idiot when my brain just stops functioning.

"I—" I tried using coherent words and tried not to gape at that knowing grin on his face. What was he thinking? "I, um." I looked up desperately for an easy escape route and my eyes were instantly drawn to a guy about my age leaning against a bookshelf with his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking straight at us with a unreadable look on his face. Without thinking, my expression turned into one of pleading and before I knew it, he was sauntering over in my direction.

"Hey, baby." His voice was low and masculine, and I'm pretty sure he can use it threateningly if he wanted to. "Were you waiting long?" Mutely, I looked up at him (one, because I was surprised, and two, I had no idea how to act) before he leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek.

"I—um, not really," my pathetic excuse for a voice said. Was my cheek supposed to tingle like that?

"And who are you?" That same caring voice directed to me was suddenly masked over into something hard and cold that sent shivers down my spine. I realized he was talking to Rod sitting in front of me who suddenly stiffened.

“Uh,” Rod said before standing up abruptly and held his hands up in front of him in a defensive gesture. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know.”

Mr. Mystery tightened his hand on my shoulder for a moment. “Kind of sad to be picking up someone at a library, huh?”

Rod didn’t say anything, but I saw his face pale before he turned and walked away from the table as fast as he could. I watched his back wordlessly before I breathed out a sigh I didn’t know I’d been holding when he exited the library.

Then I realized what Mr. Mystery said and felt a swell of embarrassment and indignation at his words.

What’s so wrong with trying to pursue your interest with someone at the library?

I mean, my tactics weren’t as drastic (and pathetic) as that Rod person (whom I’m convinced possesses no self conscious whatsoever), but still! You can so find true love anywhere. And mine just happened to be with a guy a few feet away from me…

Not that I had a plan to make him fall for me. I mean, I didn’t need one, right? One look into each other’s eyes and we’d realize we were meant to be…

Well, he’d realize it because I can already feel our destiny intertwining, and then, eventually, joining to become one.

“Who’re we staring at?”

I jumped and glanced to my side so fast that I felt my neck crack. I moaned for a good moment about the pain before staring at him blankly. “Excuse me?”

His expression didn’t change. “Who’re we staring at?” he repeated.

I felt my face instantly burn once his words registered, and I snapped, “No one.”

“Really?” He glanced sideways and I took note of his brilliant grey eyes. “Because I’m pretty sure we’re staring at that guy at the computer.”

“I’m not staring,” I sort of sniffed before turning my head away from him and focused my longing eyes at Billy/Patrick. “I’m admiring him from afar.”

“People call that stalking.”

I couldn’t stop a wistful sigh. “Isn’t he gorgeous, though?”

There was somewhat of a pause before he cleared his throat uncomfortably. I snapped out of my reverie and abruptly realized exactly who I was talking to.

Which is someone I didn’t know. So it didn’t really matter right?

“You don’t have to answer that,” I clarified brightly, stomping down my nervousness at being caught in something I usually keep to myself (which was probably bordering on the line of stalking . . . But I’d never admit that out loud).

“I wouldn’t have, either way.” His voice was a tad bit wry and his eyebrow was raised in a sort of mocking way.

I looked up at him and finally took in how he looked. I had to stop myself from gawking like a complete idiot.

Keep your cool, I instructed myself as I stared into his eyes straight on. His face was strong and you can definitely tell he worked out with his broad shoulders and well toned biceps. He had a straight nose with a slight bump on the bridge and his jaw was well defined. His skin was dark, darker than mine, and his hair was slightly wavy.

Please stop me from drooling right this moment.

“Ahem, so,” I said conversationally.

“What, no thanks?” he said, raising his eyebrows higher.

“Oh. Thanks,” I said genuinely with a side smile. His own lips lifted into a smile. “Are you genuinely really nice, or you just felt sorry for my unfortunate soul?”

He shrugged. “A little of both.”

“Ha, thank you,” I said sarcastically with a teasing face. My eyes suddenly caught the varsity jacket he held and I felt like time slowed down. Surprised, I stared before my face grew thoughtful. “You play sports?” I asked casually.

His eyes also landed on his letterman jacket. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Soccer, basketball, and football.”

My smile froze.

Triple threat.

“Oh.” I shifted a bit, letting seconds pass by before I abruptly grasped the book in front of me. “Well, thanks a lot for your help…” I let my voice trail off.

“Oliver,” he supplied with a strange look on his face. I smiled nervously and abruptly stood up. He also stood to his full height, which was around six foot three, and I suddenly felt really small at my five foot three height.

“Right. Thank you, Oliver, for your help.” I shuffled around for a bit before I began walking. Thankfully he didn’t follow.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding once I was out of the building.

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Why must I be cursed with hormones?

Moaning, I covered my face with my hand. I couldn’t erase Mr. Mystery—I mean, Oliver—from my mind. Yeah, okay, I don’t know him. But that doesn’t mean that I’m blind.

Too bad he’s an athlete.

I sighed heavily. Oh well. I’ll eventually get over him. I cringed. I hope he forgets. I can’t believe I just exposed myself like that. He mustn’t know of my tactics! Guys like him wouldn’t understand. Hell, I’m pretty sure that the male population in general would just laugh in my face.

Oh, correction. I meant arrogant pricks. The shy ones would probably turn bright red. I mean, I am after them.

I passed by a mirror down the street and inspected my face. My eyeliner was smudging. I brushed my chocolate-red hair out of my face. I loved my hair. It’s naturally raven black but I decided to be a rebel and go against my parents wishes on dyeing my hair (they thought it was indecent). My hair is black in a dimly lit room, but once under the sun, it’d be purplish red.

It’s hot, just so you know.

Mom was baking when I got home. “How was the library?”

“Er…” I tried not thinking about that certain event with Rod. “The usual.”

Her expression was curious. “You didn’t borrow any books?”

Surprised, I looked at my empty hands. Huh. I guess the little excitement with Oliver made me forget to actually grab some books on the way out…

Which was ridiculous! How dare I even step out without reading at least one chapter?

I sighed. “I got sidetracked.”

“I’ll pick you some up on the way back from picking Adam.”

“Oh, spanks Mum,” I said with an air of sudden enthusiasm. I glanced around, inquiringly noticing that all my boxes that were in the kitchen disappeared. “Where’s my stuff?”

“Upstairs. I brought them to your room.”

“All by yourself?” I said horrified. I looked at her stomach before quickly raising my eyes. “Are you tired? Do you need to lie down? Why are you even baking?”

Mom laughed. “Oh honey, I forgot how amazing it was to have you around. But sweetie, I’m only one month along. You can calm down.” She leaned towards me to kiss my cheeks and shooed me to wash up for dinner.

That didn’t stop me from glaring at her in a reprimanding way, of course. She’ll feel the burn of guilt. Then she’ll never carry anything while pregnant!

The phone rang as I passed by the table in the hallway. I looked at it curiously before picking it up. “Yello?” I said cheerfully. The phone was an amazing invention. No really, I would praise Alexander Graham Bell in a bunch of letters and send it to him if he were still alive.

“Sydney!” a very familiar voice screeched. “How DARE you not call me?!”

An instant smile was on my face. “Ah Paige, my sweets. I just remembered of your existence. How are thee?”

“Don’t even joke, Syd.” She laughed happily. “But really! How is it there with your mom? Is it ah-mazing as I think it is? Gosh, I miss your puny ass.”

My face twisted in amusement. “I miss your huge ass, Paige.” I chortled. “But yeah, it’s alright so far. I checked out the library and—”

“Aw, Sydney Ella Rhode!” she protested. “You’re only there for five hours and you already went to check out boys? Cut the world some slack!”

“I was going to say they had a mind-blowing collection of books. Really, Paige. How dare you accuse me of such a felony?”

“As easily as breathing,” she muttered.

“Okay, fine. You caught me. But I really was there to grab some books, but oh, my Gosh Paige. I saw the most—”

“Delicious piece of meat that ever walked the planet?”

I paused, “Well, no. Wait—yeah, he was meat since we’re—but anyway!” I tugged my hair in confusion. “Wait, what?”

Her laughter boomed. “You kill me, darling.” She paused and I heard vague yelling and I realized it as her older brother’s voice. She sighed. “You heard the turd, he needs the phone. What kind of guy uses the phone for three hours anyway?” she muttered under her breath distractedly.

“One that calls his girlfriend on a regular basis,” I supplied.

“Don’t defend him. The guy is cruel. Yeah, yeah, I’m off!” she yelled. I winced before laughing. “Ugh, get at me, aight girl? Tomorrow,” she ordered. “Details on everything that happens in your new school, do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Three, two, one,” she said cheerfully before I heard the dial tone. I laughed slightly. Paige always ended conversations on the phone like that; it’s what made her special.

I put the phone down and ventured up to my new room. Brown boxes were neatly lined up against the wall and I made a face as I tried to imagine Mom doing this by herself. Couldn’t she have waited until I got home or something? The bed was at the far end of the room against the wall and my desk was in line with my vision as I walked into the room straight ahead.

I tore one of the boxes open and my eyes instantly landed on a familiar picture of two beaming smiles exactly alike. My eyes softened. Instinctively, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone.

“Hello?” a masculine voice greeted deeply, his voice curiously flat. I grinned as I imagined his annoyed face at being disturbed by the shrill ring of the phone.

“Dad!” I sang.

His voice did a 180 degree turn. “Sydney!” he boomed. “How’s my sweets? Do you like your new home?”

“I’m fantastic, Dad. And yeah, everything’s good. I’m in my room as we speak.”

“Good, good. How’s your mother?” he asked good-naturedly. They parted on mutual terms, finding it better to stay friends rather than husband and wife. Either one of them would drop a call every week to check up on the other. It was kind of awkward in a loving sort of way.

“She’s okay—oh wait! She brought up five of my boxes, Dad. Can you believe that?”

“Why is that a bad thing?” he asked confusedly.

I nearly choked on my laugh. “Daddy! She’s pregnant!”

“The hell—what’s wrong with her?!”

Laughing, I listened to my father go off about Mom and how she’s always been stubborn. I sat on one of my boxes as we spoke enthusiastically. I told him about my adventure in the foreign neighbourhood and my journey to the library. And yes, I was crazy enough to mention Rob.

Or was it Rod?

Naturally, he was horrified to hear it. “Sydney Ella Rhode!” I was reminded of Paige in that moment. “I hope you knocked him out with the heaviest book in the world. What were you doing there?!”

“It was the library, Dad,” I reminded him.

“So? We have the internet for a reason.”

It continued like that until Mom called me down. “Okay, Dad. I have to eat dinner. Tell Marie that I said hi, okay? And that I love her. And tell her to get her dress from the dry cleaners this Saturday, okay? You know, the one at—”

Laughing, Dad cut me off. “I know which one, honey. Go on and stuff your face, ya hear? I don’t want you going anorexic like those idiots on television.”

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Dad to be blunt. We spoke quickly for a few more minutes before I hung up. I jumped off the box and lifted the picture. Smiling in satisfaction, I placed it on my bare desk and raced downstairs.

I closed my eyes as I smelled the mouth-watering scent of Mom’s cooking. It reminded me of Marie’s dinners. I felt a brief clench to my chest before I opened my eyes as I made it to the last step. Surprised, it took me a second too-late to realize that someone was standing in the way. I toppled backwards and groaned out loud at the pain.

“You scared me,” I accused dizzily.

“Let me help you.”

I felt two strong hands on my arms as he effortlessly lifted me from the ground. Pressing my hand to my eyes, I groaned under my breath.

“The world is spinning. Is that you God?”

There was silence before I heard his slow chuckle of incredulity.

Quite certain that I was not dead (it takes a lot more for me to go down!) I opened my eyes. Enthusiastically, I turned to my saviour. “Thanks, I—”

We stared at each other.

I’m pretty sure I knew what I looked like. My jaw dropped and my eyes were wide. My hair was in a complete mess and I probably had red cheeks from the impact with the ground.

So I pretty much looked like a freak. Not that I cared if he cared (fine, maybe a little, but only because of my dignity!). But I couldn’t seem to close my mouth shut. It didn’t help that I stopped breathing so my face was probably turning purple, so…

“Boy, don’t just stand there! Help me grab your stuff!”

My eyes slowly slid to the older man—almost a replica—of the one standing in front of me. My jaw dropped lower. Mom came out of no where and kissed the older man passionately.

Okay. It was time for me to look away.

“My eyes,” I moaned. “God, must you pain me like this?”

The caramel skinned boy grimaced. “You’re telling me.”

When the smacking noises were done (thank God), I pinned Mom with the darkest glare I could manage (it was difficult; my left eye kept twitching). “You failed to mention this, oh dear mother of mine.”

“The same goes to you, Father.”

The two adults grinned at each other. “They’re agreeing already. Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if they became best friends?” Mom said brightly.

I stared at her dubiously. Maybe she fell on her head when she was bringing up a box . . .

Twitching, I faced my apparent step-brother with as much dignity as I could manage. “We meet again,” I said coolly.

His lips twitched, but other than that, his face remained expressionless. “I’m pretty sure this is going to be a permanent thing.”

I winced.

“You two know each other?” Mom asked in surprise. “I thought it was going to be difficult for you to adjust.” She looked at me when she said this and I just sighed. Mothers. They were so slow sometimes.

“It’s not like I can go back to Dad,” I pointed out. “And I came to help out, remember?”

The teenage boy scowled. “Unbelievable. You fed us both the same lies?” He was staring at his father.

My step dad ignored his words and turned to me. “Sydney, I’d like you to meet my son—Oliver.”

I felt a shudder run through my body at the name. I tried suppressing the recent memory of the Library Incident. I tried to forget—for that moment—that he was my step brother.

Oh God. I’d thought that he was hot.

I nearly passed out. “Nice to meet you,” I said faintly. Slowly, I began to back away. I noticed Mom’s worried looks but I paid no heed. “I’ll be sitting out on dinner today.”

I flew upstairs to my room and closed the door quietly. I really needed to talk to Paige. Therefore, I hastily flipped my cell phone open—only to remember that her brother would be hogging it for another two hours. I sighed in dismay and closed it.

Why, oh why, did this have to happen? It was all too much to take. I aligned the boxes horizontally against the wall across the window and laid on it, staring up at the ceiling.

I felt an odd sensation in my stomach. Traitorous body. How could I be hungry at a time like this?

Well, fine. I’ll go and face my fears. Besides, Daddy always told me to meet awkwardness straight on! What’s the point of hiding when you know you have to face it anyway?

In futile hope that the issue will go away, I answered my own question, cringing.

The dining room was oddly quiet when I made my way down the stairs. Holding my breath, I stepped into the room, praying I wouldn’t run away again.

Mom noticed me first. “Sydney! Are you feeling better?” She blinked innocently at me before standing up. “I’ll get you a plate and—”

“No, no,” I said hurriedly, stopping her. “I can get it myself.”

“Sydney, I’m pregnant, not incapable.”

My expression was sheepish. I grabbed my plate and utensils and surveyed the table.

“Come and sit beside Oliver, Sydney,” Jace—my step father—said warmly. I was planted, horrified, on the tiled floor. Oh, great. Now I can’t decline, because that would seem rude. Of course, I’m not rude. Nope, of course not! “It’ll give us a chance to talk and catch up.”

I smiled uneasily and sat down beside Oliver. He was looking at me directly and I felt uncomfortable. Do you remember when I spoke about The Stare? Well, he had the stare of someone who knew they were good looking.

I tried not to be repulsed by this. He was my step brother after all.

“I’m sorry for running off like that,” I said to him quietly, casting a quick glance to our parents that made sure they weren’t listening. “I was just—surprised. Yes, very surprised.” I nervously tapped my fork against my plate when he didn’t reply. Oh, my God. Now I feel like an idiot. He wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “So, Oliver, huh? Do you have a… middle name to go with that?”

I stared beseechingly at my mother who raised an eyebrow, her conversation halting just in time to hear my pathetic attempt at a discussion.

I held my breath in an attempt to pass out.

“No.”

Exhaling heavily, I smiled brightly. “Oh, well, my middle name is Ella. But no one really calls me that unless they’re saying my full name.”

Kill me now.

I felt my cheeks burn when I saw Mom raise both eyebrows. Jace was looking at me confusedly, and, oh God, I didn’t even want to look to my right.

“…Right.”

That’s it.

“Excuse me!” I squeaked and ran out of the room, just in time to hear Jace scold Oliver. I leaned against the wall of the hallway and groaned under my breath.

Darn it. Why did he have to be so good looking?

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Author’s note: Grammatical errors? Spelling? Let me know!