Presley swept a hand over her forehead as the sweat proceeded to run into her eyes.

"Oh god," she whined under her breath. "I'm going to die in my sweatpants, with no make up and messy hair."

Her friends always joked about how vain she was, but it was true. She would never be seen in public looking anything less than perfect. Her shoulder length, jet black hair was always smoothed to perfection and you would never, never see Presley McIntyre without a lick of mascara on her long dark lashes. At 19, Presley looked about 22. She'd always looked slightly older than she was, and along with her exotic good looks, this had definitely worked to her advantage in her teenage years. She always got into clubs and attracted gorgeous, older guys, making her friends green with envy. But then people had always envied Presley. She was about 5.9 with flawless olive skin that she inherited from her Italian father and made her mother spend hours in sun beds and huge amounts of cash on cosmetics to try achieve.

"Did you say something dear?" The old woman walking quietly on the treadmill next to hers asked her.

"Oh, no," she laughed, trying not to sound as exhausted as she was. "I'm just talking to myself."

"Oh, I see dear. I quite often do that when I'm at the gym. You can do a lot of thinking…" Presley tuned out the woman as she tried to put herself somewhere else in her head so that she could finish the last five minutes on the treadmill.

The gym was one of Presley's many routines she did during the week to keep up appearances. The gym was the one she dreaded most. She got sweaty and people could see her! She much preferred yoga much more but her yoga instructor was on maternity leave, so she was resorting to the much detested gym.

"Oh thank GOD!" she said a little too loudly as 00:00 finally flashed up on the little screen. She leaped off the treadmill and ran with jelly-like legs to the female changing rooms.

After a shower, she dressed quickly and checked her phone for messages as she slung her gym bag over her shoulder and walked to her car. She saw that she had five text messages.

"All but one from Finn?" she muttered quietly to herself. "Come on." A little symbol on her phone told her that she also had several voice messages. Presumably, these were also from Finn. She sighed loudly and hopped into her black BMW and read the messages.

'Pres I'm sorry baby, plz call me. U didn't give me a chance 2 explain. Just call me, ok? I love u –F xo '

'Can I come round? We have 2 talk about this –F xo'

'Txt back, I'm going crazy –F xo'

'Where r u? –F xo'

'Presley PLEASE call Finn he's called about a million times. Your father's about to murder him. What's going on? –Mum'

Presley groaned and laid her head on the back of the car seat. She wasn't ready to deal with Finn yet. She was still trying to control her anger whenever she thought of him and what he did. The last day and a half she'd been doing her best to avoid him, but the calls were becoming ridiculous. And it seemed that he'd finally started calling home. So much for keeping it to herself. Now her mother would want to know every detail.

She sighed again. Maybe she'd just go pick up Eden and they could go to the beach for a few hours. The more Presley thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. She needed to think about something other than Finn Sutherland and she knew he best friend Eden would be just the person to distract her. She always made her laugh so hard she cried. Eden's wicked sense of humour was one thing Presley definitely envied of her.

Decision made, Presley started her car, viciously reversed without checking for any other cars that might dare to be in her way and drove from the gym towards Eden's house, totally failing to register another car at an intersection, tooting wildly at her.