Author's Note: Thank you for reviewing this story! I'm trying my best to juggle It's All About Your Luck and Accidental Exposure. I love them both so much and I'm doing my best to be fair. Oh, and if you wonder why they keep fighting, it's because Aiden gets mad easily. Very easily. It's the kind of girl she is.

"Are you sure we haven't met?" Damien asked in a sing-song voice as we walked on the sidewalk.

At least one of us was happy.

I kicked away a pebble and muttered, "Shut up."

"Or what?"

"If you don't shut up you'll find out." I retorted, glaring at him. Under the bright sunshine, his hair almost seemed silver.

"Lighten up, will you? You're so serious." he answered.

Why? Why him? What did I do to deserve this kind of punishment? Anyone could have moved into the house down the street. But no, it had to be the dude from Florida. My fists balled up as he continued to make fun of me.

"You're silent. You were a lot noisier in the hotel."

A group of boys standing by snickered when they heard Damien. God what was wrong with that guy?! Didn't he understand the implications of his words?!

"Do you know what that sounded like to everyone else?" I stopped walking and turned to face him.

He was still smirking. Such an annoying smirk…I wanted to jump on him and rip it out of his face.

"What do you care? You didn't care what the other people in the hotel thought."

I colored as the group of boys snickered even more. I leaned close to him. "Choose your words carefully! They probably think there's something going on between us." I hissed.

"There is." His smirk widened.

His tone was so nonchalant that I couldn't help myself. I punched him in the face. He stumbled backwards, surprised. Easy for him to act like he didn't care about these boys, but I grew up with them! And they think I'm…I'm a slut? God help me.

Damien got up, spitting fire. "What was that for?!"

Damn, I wasn't able to break his nose. "There's more where it came from."

"You have anger management issues."


"You heard me. You have issues. Have you ever considered seeing a psychiatrist?" He sneered.

"How about you? Stalking people all the way from Florida! You followed me all the way back here!" I snapped. "What kind of favors are so important that you had to come here? Do you plan on sleeping with me and then leaving me? Is it what you want? Is that it? Do you think I'd be easy? Because I've seen you shirtless?"

"I never said that!"

"You might as well say it, because it's what you want, isn't it? I've seen boys like you before. You chase a girl, make her fall for you, sleep with her and throw her away!" I shouted. Tears welled up in my eyes when I remembered what had happened to my older sister, Ophelia.

She stuck with him, supported him and even did his homework. Only to have him sleep with her and dump her for another skank. She was so heartbroken she looked forward to leaving for college.

Her sobs still echoed in my head. Crying all night…she didn't deserve what Tyler did to her.

"I'd never do anything like that." He said.

I could see the fire smoldering in his gray eyes. But it was too late to go back now. He embarrassed me in front of a ton of my friends.

Was I overreacting? Damien stood there and watched me patiently.

"Aren't you going to leave?" I finally asked.

"No. I promised I'd walk you home."

I threw my arms up in the air, frustrated. What the hell was wrong with him? I began to run towards my house, hoping to leave him in the dust.

No luck. He was able to catch up with me easily. I took a deep breath and snuck a glance at him. He seemed to be thinking about something.

He was just teasing a while ago. Maybe I did overreact. Maybe I was projecting my hatred for Tyler onto Damien. He didn't do anything to merit that. As we neared my house, I decided I should talk to him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I guess I overreacted a little. I have…issues with boys."

"I noticed."

"So you're not mad?"

We stood on our porch. He glanced at my mother's beloved rose garden. Beautiful, but nowhere as expensive as the gardens in his mansion.

Finally he broke the silence in a flat voice. "You owe me four."

"WHAT?!" Why the hell was he counting favors like crazy?

"Oh, hello." My mom came out of the door, smiling.

I saw Damien's eyebrow shoot up. Well, couldn't blame him. My mother had long light brown hair, green eyes and a great figure. Despite being forty-three years old, she looked young enough to be my older sister.

"You must be the new boy who moved down the street." My mom held out a hand. "I'm Penelope Campbell. I see you've met my daughter Aiden. Have you met Casey yet?"

Damien gave me an incredulous glance as if to ask, "This is your mom?! She's hotter than you are!"

Okay, maybe not. That's just wrong. But you get the point. He's probably wondering why my mother's genes weren't passed down to me.

"No, I haven't. But Aiden's a great person."

Pfft. Liar much?


Even my mother didn't buy that much bull.

"So see you soon, Damien." If I was lucky, soon would mean never. But I'm not so it probably meant…the next day?

"Would you like to come inside?" My mother asked Damien.

I shook my head at Damien and mouthed no. Instead of following my brilliant advice, he nodded and smiled.

"I'd love to."

"Great! Come on in." My mom flung the door wide open and let the devil into the house. "Make yourself at home!"

Damien plopped down on my favorite couch. Hn. Unfair.

"Mom, tell Aiden I already fed Barker. I'm going to go out with…Oh hey, Aid." Casey bounded down the stairs in time to see Damien enter. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him.

I glanced at Damien. He wore a white button down shirt and black pants. I wore a t-shirt and faded jeans. Our living room was comfortable, homey and pretty, with a light blue and white color pattern. Pick the one that looked out of place.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend, Aid?"

"He's not my - !"

"My name's Damien. And I'm not her friend." Damien cut in neatly.

Somehow he managed to make the message sound screwed up. As if we were more than friends instead of less than friends.

"Oh…But I thought," Casey glanced at me, a curious look in her eye.

Thought that I despised men like the one sitting in our living room right now? "I do." I said to Casey.

"Then…Oh well." She shrugged and headed out the door. "I'm going out with some friends. I won't be back until tonight, so yeah…"

My mother smiled at us. There was something malicious in the smile, I just knew it.

"Well, don't let me get between you two. Take care of the house, Aiden. I'm going out to get some groceries." My mom picked up her purse and checked her hair in the mirror before glancing at us again. "And do stay as long as you want to, Damien. Watch Aiden for me. You may not know it yet, but she has quite a temper and I don't want to come back to a house full of shattered plates and mirrors. If, of course, it's all right with you. Bye, dear. I'll be back in a few hours." She traipsed out the door as if she had just had the best day of her life.

Now that was a lie. A big, fat, half-baked lie. She went to buy groceries just yesterday. We didn't finish food that fast, did we?

I glanced at Damien. "Out."

"Why? Your mom said I should stay as long as I want. And she said I had to babysit you. I can't leave you alone, can I?"

Babysit me? He was making fun of me?

I drew back my fist and threw it at him but he ducked before I could hit him. So I lost my balance and landed right on his lap. He grinned at me as I scrambled away from him. Oh my God. What was he thinking now?

"Don't get any ideas, smartass." I warned.

"Ideas? What ideas?" He asked innocently.

I could see it in his smile. He had ideas all right. Plenty of them. Why was he so sick? My hands found a pillow.

He should thank God that it wasn't a plate or his pretty face would have been smashed pretty badly. He fell off the couch and onto the floor with a thud.

He wasn't moving. Someone help me! I ran to him and shook him by the shoulders.

"Are you okay?!" The falls wasn't that far but what if he fell on his head? That would be trouble. No, it would be beyond trouble! I would be doomed. My mom would send me to a psychiatrist, who would in turn send me to a cuckoo house!

Then his eyes popped wide open. "Gotcha," he said with a boyish grin.

You could only imagine what happened next.