1

Hands slid up my hips and around my back, circling over my sensitive skin. Mick's lips were pressed hotly against mine, as well as the rest of his body. In the distance I could hear the party music coming from the bonfire. By the sounds of it from here, it sounded like Live While We're Young by One Direction. We weren't too far from it; the forest was right beside the beach. I hadn't exactly planned on getting this far with Mick, and it gave me goose bumps to think that his hands were trying to slip under my bikini top.

I wasn't a whore. I wasn't a slut and I wasn't about to lose my virginity as a seventeen year old. Though the physical stuff was great, Mick and I lacked the emotional connection that couples should have. I'd been his girlfriend for two years now, all the while waiting for that connection to grow. It never did, not even now as he tried to pull the ties of my bikini top apart.

I shook my head, breaking our heated kiss and rested a hand on his bare chest. He was on the varsity football team, and I was the volleyball player. To everyone we were the perfect match. To Mick, we were the perfect match. To me? It was still nothing without that emotional connection.

"No," I whispered thickly, looking through the darkness that the thick forest created. I could barely make out Mick's features; tan, muscled body, short brown hair, and innocent brown eyes. He had on his trunks, hanging low on his hips. It really emphasized the shape of his hips-again, physical attraction. There was nothing emotionally connected between us. This relationship just would not work out.

"C'mon, babe…" he said in a sigh, upset to be halted from pulling off my clothes. He pressed soft kisses on my neck, pinning me back against the tree. My eyes slid closed as the kissing deepened and his hands moved to my top again. Now snapped out of the mood from my realization that I didn't want to get this far with him, I felt every point of tree bark dig into my skin. And it hurt.

"No." I said, firmly this time. I pushed him back slowly from me, looking him directly in the eyes. "I'm not comfortable with this." I told him. He was my boyfriend of two years now; obviously he would understand. But I saw that tint of haze in his gaze and I realized that my boyfriend was drunk.

"Yes you are." He said. It was now that I realized the slur in his tone. "You just need to open up a little. I won't hurt you…" he went in to kiss me again and I dodged him, ducking away and picking up my black cover up.

"You're drunk." I pulled on my romper and picked up my beach bag from where I'd dropped it when things first started heating up. "Don't drive home." I added sourly before sulking off. I was disappointed. If he got in trouble, he'd be off the varsity team and get in serious trouble.

"Elena…" I heard Mick moaning from behind me. It was already too late; I was stomping quicker to get away from him and I'd achieved that goal.

I reached the beach in a few minutes, my face hot with hurt and anger. I would have joined my other friends, but they were probably like everyone else-drunk-and I didn't feel like watching over a bunch of five year olds. The only actual and true friend that knew absolutely everything about me was Amanda, someone I knew before I drew into the popular group. My mother and hers were best friends since we were born. Even now, they were really close. So Amanda and I stuck with each other throughout our whole childhood. She couldn't make it to the party tonight, because she'd been grounded. Her dad found out about the last time we snuck out, and she'd gotten in huge trouble.

I took a seat near the fire, combing my fingers through my shoulder-length black hair. Mom always joked about it being black as the night sky, and my skin just a few shades off from snow. I never liked how pale I was in the first place; and the fact that my hair made it stand more made me become really self-conscious about my appearance.

"Hey, El!" I heard from behind me. I turned around to see Alex Grighes. He was a boy in school who was a close friend. He'd always looked up to me, as if with certain admiration, like I was the queen. It was pretty obvious he had a big crush on me. He was cute, with black hair like mine, and a pale, light face. He had a little sprinkle of freckles over his cheeks and nose, which made him that much cuter. He was really sweet, and it was a shame because he was bullied constantly for his liking comic books and superheroes and reading. I was surprised; he was so cute, and it wasn't as if he had no friends. The big jocks would always push him around a bit, 'joking'. Unfortunately, I've seen Mick in on the joking and pushing a few times, and have scolded him for it.

Of course, Mick would act all innocent on me, saying things like, "C'mon, babe. We're only kidding." Then later stopping his friends after I refused to have any make-out sessions with him. Yeah, he was that desperate.

"Alex, hey." I said, pulling out my biggest smile I could find in my drawer of hurt and anger.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking a seat on the log beside me. He wore his swimming trunks, too, with a light blue tank to cover his pale and thin torso.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" I asked, lowering an eyebrow in my best way to sound confused. I really didn't feel like talking right now, but I always hated turning him down. Alex pushed up his glasses from the bridge that rested over his nose and smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know flushing red and staring at the fire with a menacing glare meant you were having a good time. Okay, then." He stood up, dusted off his trunks and began to walk away.

"Wait!" I called after him. He turned with a smirk after taking two steps. "I-I was upset." I admitted. "I just...need a friend." And a ride home.

He took his seat next to me again, and said, "Spill the beans." He leaned back on his arms, casting a glance at the fire. I watched the reflection of flames in his glasses a moment before looking down.

"It's kind of an awkward subject." I replied finally. I didn't feel like talking about it. And with Alex, you'd always expect some kind of Zen lesson that I just wasn't in the mood to hear.

"I'm all ears and four eyes." He said, hinting a smile. I could only grin at that, and give a shrug. He didn't look drunk, which made me feel better. Maybe it was because I felt alone and thought that I was the only one who didn't easily give in to peer pressure. He enjoyed a nice conversation, and the fact that it was him asking how I was doing and not anybody else made me feel more open and comfortable.

"Just boyfriend problems." I very briefly summed up what happened in the woods and shivered. "I'm just not ready for anything like that. I don't even know if I really have anything else with him than the physical stuff." I kicked around the sand, wiggling my toes in it and watching with sad eyes.

Alex rested a hand on my shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. I smiled weakly; fakely. "You know what Ironman would do?" I snorted at the mention of superheroes, not surprised at all. He continued with, "They would-" and broke off when someone stomped by, tripping over his feet and landing on all fours in the sand. A beer was in his hand. "I'm so sorry!" Alex said, rushing to help him up. The boy looked like he was in our grade, maybe a year older. He had black hair, darker than mine, and surprisingly fiery orange eyes. I couldn't take mine away from his.

"Watch where you're going!" The boy yelled, shoving Alex back. He wasn't prepared for the shove, and instead tripped back over the log we'd been sitting on before. Before I knew it, I was jumping up from my seat.

"Hey!" When his gaze landed on mine, I grew paralyzed.

Who knew God could have created such a beautiful being?

I felt like time was stopped as I stared into those orange eyes. I still couldn't believe the color. He must've been wearing contacts or something. His full head of black hair that curled just over the tops of his ears mesmerized me. It took me a long moment to find my voice as I felt his eyes scan every inch of me, taking particular interest in my hair.

"Let him be." I said. I thought my voice would come out strong, but it faded quickly. Damn those eyes. I felt like they were looking into my soul, and going through every private moment of my life. I never knew someone's gaze could make me feel so violated.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, voice slurred by the alcohol. My cheeks burned a bright red as I helped Alex up.

"Are you okay?" My eyes scanned his legs for scrapes.

"Let the boy stand up for himself." Mr. Violator growled, a hand on his hip. I stared blatantly at him, giving him a dirty look that I hoped looked like it could kill. Mr. Violator's gaze only dusted back over me when he saw I hadn't moved from my position in front of Alex. "Unless you'd want to take his place." He added thoughtfully.

"Now, now. There's no need for violence." Alex chimed in, nudging me aside. Mr. Violator gave me another scary gaze and watched as I picked up my bag and moved as Alex began nudging me out of the way.

"This guy needs a nice punch in the face." I growled under my breath, low enough for only to Alex to hear. We began to walk away, when I heard his voice come again.

"Go ahead, Elena. Punch me. I dare you." The tone was mocking. He was acting like I didn't have a chance. And he was messing with the wrong Calabraze.

I marched right up to Mr. Violator and didn't hesitate to throw a quick punch at his face. I predicted he'd dodge it by going left-studies show that your first instinct when being attacked is to dodge left-so I curved my arm just a little to the left. When I thought my fist made contact with his face, I was disappointed to find it halted, midway through its motion from Mr. Violator's hand coming up to block it. He tugged me hard towards him and I let out a gasp, stumbling forward until his other hand wrapped itself around my neck. Then, the oddest feeling fell over me.

I felt like a vacuum was stuck on my neck, taking away my insides. Sweeping my body of all my energy. I was unable to gasp as my breath slid away and my eyes fluttered shut. I felt like the victim in the stories where a vampire was preying on its victim.

It wasn't like he was strangling me or choking me, blocking my airway with his hand. I felt like my strength and energy was being sucked out of me. But I found strength to push away-somehow. My hands fastened around his neck, strangling him to let go. My lungs burned with a need for oxygen. I choked and shoved Mr. Violator back with my arm, and a power surged through me. I smiled breathlessly and triumphantly as he yanked away and was gone in seconds in the direction of the forest preserve. By now a small crowd had gathered-all too drunk to really understand what was going on. And to be honest, I didn't even really know what happened.

I tried to go about with ease for the rest of the night, to ignore what happened with the weird kid, but it was pretty hard when I couldn't keep my eyes from involuntarily searching for him. It also didn't help that Alex saw everything, and because he hadn't consumed alcohol, and was freak-smart, he was plowing me with questions I didn't know the answers to. He asked me who the boy was. Mr. Violator knew my name, and at first I assumed because I had many friends, my name would get out. But he spoke as if he knew me, and-like I felt before-he could see my whole life just by looking into my eyes. He was freaky.

As my mind pondered, eyes wandering off into the forest, I saw Mick take a seat slowly next to me out of the corner of my eye. Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I recounted what happened when I last saw him. But, unlike before, he didn't try to touch me. He sat with his hands folded on his lap. "I'm sorry." He said after a long moment of silence. I gave him a look before sighing and dropping my head on his shoulder. Fighting wasn't my thing. I hated fighting with the people I cared about. "I shouldn't have made you feel so pressured. I was just excited and drunk, and I wasn't thinking right." He slowly brought his arm around me and stroked my shoulder with callused fingertips. This was the Mick I liked, the one I wish could be here the whole time. The soft, sensitive and caring one.

"I'm not ready for it." I said quietly. He nodded and rested a hand on my knee.

"I know. I'm sorry I pressured you. I'll be patient." He pressed a soft kiss to my temple. I closed my eyes. While he might have been thinking that it was the affect from the gentle kiss, it was because I didn't feel like I'd ever be ready with him. I didn't love him-yet, at least.

"Thanks. I forgive you." I told him instead. I glanced down at my phone to notice the time. Crap. Almost eleven. If I came home a minute past eleven, Mom and Dad would kill me. I began to stand and looked down at Mick, whose gaze was on the fire. "Hey babe," I started, taking his hand and pulling him up. "Curfew's in ten. Can you drive me home?"

I gave Mick a kiss goodnight and thanked him for driving me home. When I stepped inside, it was eleven at the dot. Just in time. I set down my bag near our dark chocolate oak door and made my way up the spiral staircase after giving my mom a kiss.

If there was any place I loved most, it was home. I liked staying in on Friday nights instead of going out all weekend. My home had the lively and welcoming environment, with vanilla scented candles lit in the evening. Our dark wood floors contrasted with the beige and red furnishings that spread through the living room and kitchen. Our fireplace would constantly be lit in the winter, and I was glad fall was coming up for that reason.

After padding up the staircase quietly, so as not to disturb my little brother Matt, I walked into my bedroom. The walls were stained with a dark purple color that was to be described as a few shades lighter than the purple Skittles. I had matching accents all around the room-book shelf, candles, lamps that were either purple and white or purple and black. My full-sized bed was covered with a floral design sewed into my black and white bed sheets.

I shut the door to my bedroom tightly and dropped my Chicago beach bag as I let out a sigh of exhaustion. After stripping out of my bikini and into sweats and a baggy shirt, I brought myself to my vanity mirror and brushed out the braid I had in my hair. As I stepped to the mirror, I nearly gasped at the reflection.

Mr. Violator. He was standing right behind me. His dark eyes were hooded with shadows and his mouth was tilted into a line that threatened to display a smirk. I took in his features-the shirt he wore exposed marks that disappeared up into his arms, starting at his biceps. I felt paralyzed as his hand trailed up my shoulder and through my hair, clamping hard onto my neck. The vacuum feeling crashed over me again and I gasped as my strength left my body, weakening me so much the corner of my vision spotted black. I couldn't move again. I felt stuck and felt like I was being swallowed by the ocean. My vision was now full of blackness, and with that, unable to hold myself up anymore, I choked out a breath I thought would be my last and fell backwards.

When I opened my eyes everything was normal.

There was no one else in my room. I was standing with my brush to my hair, looking at my single reflection, looking as normal as I did when I first stepped into my house. What the hell just happened? I could not bring myself to believe I'd been hallucinating. But what other option was there? Mr. Violator was another Edward Cullen? And what was happening with losing my strength? That vacuum feeling only came when his hand clamped around my neck. It happened not only now but at the party.

Terrifying thoughts crept into my mind as I slid into bed at a quarter after twelve. I'd been pacing my room indefinitely, trying to reason out what just happened. I couldn't tell anyone. There wasn't a rational explanation as to how Mr. Violator got out of my room so quickly. I must have just imagined it. At the same time, I was thinking about how real it felt. I felt like I was being choked, and I felt like it actually happened. I believed I was going to die. How could this be normal?

It was exhaustion. I was tired from being near Lake Michigan all day and fighting with Mick and meeting Mr. Violator. I could just sleep it off, wake up on Monday with a fresh start, and forget about the party and everything that happened there. Using this as my anchor, I finally lulled myself to sleep.