Hi! Rini here. For lit class, we were asigned this 30-page-story as our "final" but it ended up being "spring break homework". The only requirement on our story was to explain why my teacher had a brown pen with a piece of tape on it. Yeah, random, much... I figure, since I stayed up till 5 AM Sunday night during my spring break to finish this, I may as well share it with more people than just my teacher and friends. So here you go! This is the first chapter...it isn't my favorite chapter, but it gets a lot better, and if you have enough commitment to read till the end I'd appreciate it :) Please review!! Thanks!

I recall meeting him when I was about fourteen. He was the glow my life, I looked up to him, lived for him. Looking back now, I'm not really sure why. On the outside he was beautiful—handsome and charming, but not many people got to know him to the point that I did. I knew him as if he were my brother, his good and bad points, his fears and weaknesses. Maybe I even loved him, but I don't know anymore since he has left me.

Why did you leave me, Donovan? Why did you leave me on my own again? Looking back now, maybe you weren't the best person I could have idolized, but it seemed like I would have died if it weren't for you. I even wonder why I haven't died yet, with you gone.

He saved me, he really did. But I think about it now, and it was like he pulled me out of that great big hole and dragged me down another. But even so, I'm grateful to him for helping me in the first place. For helping me, when nobody else would come.

What was so different about that day? It was a nice day, actually, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. Then I decided to go and make a big deal about my life. It wasn't so bad, really, just another argument with my mother. I couldn't remember the last time my mother and I agreed on something. I had always disliked her, especially after my father died…when I was only seven years old. My mother is rather overprotective, I think she's just afraid of losing me, of course at the time I just thought she was trying to be mean. She would never let me out of the house or go anywhere alone. I hated the indoors…I wanted to have fun like all the other kids. One day, I ran away from home; big mistake. We had just recently moved into the neighborhood two weeks before, and since I had never gotten the chance to explore, it was almost certain I was going to get lost. I stormed into my newly decorated room, locked the room, and cried. Then quietly, I escaped through the window.

It was thirty minutes 'til sunset, and the sky was still a beautiful blue, but to me it seemed like it was grey. I ran aimlessly until I was out of breath. I didn't think about where I was going or what the consequences for my running away would be. I didn't know, nor did I care…and when I looked up, I was surrounded by unfamiliar buildings.

I had never felt so stupid and helpless. What had I gained from running away, other than a worried mother and sure scolding?

"Stupid," I said to myself. "So stupid, so pathetic."

I walked along the sidewalk as my heartbeat slowed to a normal rate. Why I continued to walk forward, I don't know, for I was only walking farther from home, step by step.

The sky was beginning to change color, and my heartbeat began to speed up again.

Soon it will be dark, I thought, and I panicked silently. How far from home was I? Which direction did I even come from? How many turns had I made on my way to this strange area? I was so helpless and confused. I looked around at the people around me, who were seemingly carefree. Why did I have to argue with my mother? Why did I take her concern for granted? I stopped walking and tears flooded my eyes. People were staring, but nobody stopped to ask what was wrong. The sky was a light shade of red and orange. I would have looked up and admired its beauty, but I was too buried in my own problems to care.

"Hey," someone said. I didn't look up. "Hey, stop crying, and look at this sunset!" the voice said again. Eyes wet, I peeked up at a teenage boy with a gentle face. His eyes were a deep green, and his face looked as if full of youth and energy.

Embarrassed at my damp cheeks, I turned away and started to run. Deep down, of course, I hoped the boy would run after me. I was happy for the attention, and happy that someone had noticed. I wasn't completely worthless. A gentle hand clamped onto my arm.

"Wait," gasped the boy, who had caught up to me. "Where are you going? You sure are in a hurry."

Where was I going? I wasn't sure myself. I would have said, "Home," except I didn't know how to get there.

"…I don't know." I said at last.

"Are you lost?" He asked. I nodded.

"I can drive you home. Where do you live?" said the boy.

I looked up at him.

"You can drive?"

"Is that surprising?"

It was indeed surprising. The boy looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. He didn't look extremely tall, either, but he was a good height.

"I'm only 16, actually, but I know how to drive. I can drive better than my buddies, anyways, even though they've all got their licenses. But if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can call a taxi instead."

I shook my head.

"I don't have any money on me."

"Hey, I can spare ten bucks if it'll make a girl stop crying," he said. His voice was cheerful. He took his large hand and wiped off the tears on my cheeks.

"Come on, I'll call the taxi."

"I don't know how far it is though…." I said, uncertainly. "Where are we?"

"Sidney Street," he said. "Where do you live?"

I suddenly could not remember where I lived. I had known it all before I'd left home, the city and the new street name, but I couldn't recall it at that very moment. Why did I run away from home, not even knowing my own street name… ? I didn't reply to his question.

"What? Did you forget?" He chuckled. How did he know? It was like he read my mind. And to chuckle in the seriousness of that moment, it was cruel, but he didn't seem to notice. I forgave him.

"Okay, well I know the streets around here pretty well. What does it look like on your street?"

Cheeks red, I admitted my mother had never let me explore the neighborhood and I really had no idea what surrounded my house. I felt so helpless, not even being able to tell this boy where I lived.

"So your mother keeps you in the house all day, and then when you escape the house you don't even bother to look around?" he said.

This was true, I had been so angry with my mother that I hadn't taken the time to look at the scenery on my way to Sidney Street. Pretty ironic, it was. I felt like the boy was mocking me, and it erased a little bit of the gentle-boy impression I had of him. But then the boy laughed heartedly.

"Only kidding, I know where you live, Candice. You're that girl that moved on my block about two weeks ago, aren't you? I've seen you in school sometimes, too." Said the boy.

This was a very surprising remark to me, since I didn't recognize the boy from anywhere. I said nothing.

"I'm Donovan, by the way. I'm in the tenth grade." He smirked. "Come on, did you forget about the taxi?"

Donovan didn't seem to mind my helplessness. From his pocket emerged a cell phone, which he then started fiddling with. I thought about how independent Donovan seemed to be. Here he was, on this street which was so dangerous looking in my innocent eyes, and yet he was able to maintain such a carefree aurora. In a way, he was like a breath of fresh air to me. It felt kind of nice.

Donovan snapped his flip-phone shut and slid it neatly back into his pocket. He grinned at me.

"Someday, I'm gonna move to New York," Donovan said. "You don't need to call for a taxi there, nope. Just holler and one will drive right up to you." He snapped his fingers. "That's service."

"I've been to New York once, before my father died," I said.

Donovan didn't reply to that, but stood quiet for a few seconds.

"Both my parents are dead," he said.

I gasped.

"You're an orphan?!" my hands clapped to my mouth, sort of without my consent.

A mischievous smile sneaked up on Donovan's face, and I could tell at that moment that I'd fallen for his joke. He laughed, and I felt my cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Just kidding, both my folks are still alive," he smirked. "You're sure gullible."

His cheerful tone of words seemed to say, "I like you." I stuck my tongue out at him, but then felt silly for acting so familiar with somebody I just met. I turned away from him. We stood silently, for a few minutes. I hated the awkwardness of the moment and wished that the taxi would come, so that there would be a reason to acknowledge Donovan again. At the same time, I didn't want to go home, for I knew my mother was there, just waiting to yell at me. Maybe I was being selfish.

"Hey," Donovan said, tapping my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He didn't sound the least bit serious, but I had long forgiven his childish act. I turned around a smile crept up on my face. We laughed. My body began to feel the cold of the night. I had forgotten to bring a sweater, as my mind was blinded with anger when I left the house, but I didn't feel the cold until now because I was running the whole way to Sidney Street. I shivered and folding my arms. Just then, a yellow-painted car drove up to the curb. Donovan slipped something in my hand – it was a twenty-dollar bill. I was a little disappointed at this gesture, because I knew that it meant Donovan didn't intend to ride the taxi with me. There was no reason for him to do so, of course, as he probably had a car parked somewhere nearby, and the cost of a taxi ride would just rise with two people in the cab. Even so, it made me a little sad. However, I was probably too expecting in my escort.

"What about the change?" I asked. I might have been expecting an offer of some sort.

"Doesn't matter," said Donovan. "But you can return it, if you want. An excuse for us to talk again, right?"

I gazed up at him as the taxi door closed shut. The cab pulled away from the curb, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed Donovan before. His handsome face stood out even in the dim street lamps' glow. I held onto the bill he had given me. It was the bond that would soon create a long lasting friendship.