My first story on here! :D Please review and tell me what you think!


The water was getting higher and higher, and soon it would reach my head. "Get on!" some stranger in a dark hood reached out his hand to me, and I tried to grab it, but the grip slipped. And I fell into the dark water, the rushing of it getting louder and louder, and I couldn't breathe and I slowly sank deeper and deeper and as I hit the ground—

I opened my eyes. It was a dream. Just a dream. I looked around me. No water, just me in my bedroom, curled up on my bed. Nothing. Nothing to be afraid of, well, except for Jillian's sister's hideous tuba playing, but it wasn't a life or death situation.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched my back. It made a popping noise and I cringed in pain. Why did everything seem like it hurt? I walked to the bathroom and scrubbed my face with water. It was icy cold on my face, and reminded me of my dream. I quickly shut it off and watched the serpent of liquid swirl and twist its way down the drain.

The tuba playing got louder and louder as I walked up the stairs to the main floor, my bedroom in the basement.

"Morning, Aubrey," Ms. Goldman smiled at me as I sat down on the kitchen nook. Then my best friend/sister entered the room, her flowing blonde locks in a pile on top of her head.

"Good morning, Chelsea," she acknowledged her daughter, giving her a nod. Chelsea nodded at her, and then slid into the seat next to me. I looked over at Ms. Goldman who rolled her eyes at me. I always thought my adopted mother and I had a better relationship than her and her real daughter.

"Where were you last night, Chels?" I asked, biting into my piece of toast. "It's a Tuesday and I was asleep doing Year 2 algebra before you came home."

"Oh, I was over at Mac's," Chelsea said, referring to our gal pal Mackenzie "Mac" Sliver. "We were working on our project together."

"Why didn't you work with Aubrey again?" Ms. Goldman asked in a disapproving tone. She disliked Mackenzie and her peppy carrot-colored hair and innocent blue eyes—she knew she was a bad influence and did not like her presence in her daughter's life.

"'Cause she's a bad partner," Chelsea said, nonchalantly. "She sucks at anything b'sides language arts and music." She slurped her orange juice down.

I wasn't taken aback at her comment, being used to it, but Ms. Goldman was appalled. "She can do science too! Last time I checked, she wasn't failing," Ms. Goldman recalled. She began to wash our plates, and the cold water that dripped onto the plate began a rhythm in my head. Drop. Drop. Drop.

"I'm not failing, I'm just—not passing," Chelsea said, laughing at her own joke. Ms. Goldman opened her mouth to say something when Jillian entered the room.

"Mom, did you like my tuba practicing?" she asked, her dirty blonde hair in a side ponytail. Jillian was twelve years old, and was about the cutest thing I had ever seen.

"Yeah, but what does Aubrey think?" Ms. Goldman asked, looking over at me, the supposedly musical genius of the family that I was pushed into.

I looked at Jillian and her wide, chocolate brown eyes. I couldn't tell to her face that her tuba playing sucked, and that she switched keys about a billion times, so instead I said with a pasted-on smile, "It was really beautiful, Jillian. Though that last note was an F sharp, not an F flat—oh, and the piece was in the key of D, not C." She nodded her head at me like she understood, but I knew she didn't. "And you might want to look over the piece before you play it, like checking the time signature and watch out for accidentals, and the beat was allegro, it wasn't--,"

"I think she gets the point, Aubrey," Chelsea interrupted, rolling her eyes at me.

"What point?" I asked. "All I see is the flatness of your attitude." I crossed my arms indignantly. If she wasn't my best friend and if I didn't live with her, I probably would've said something a bit meaner, but that apparently wasn't the case. And Ms. Goldman was around.

Chelsea growled at me, and then looked at her mom. "Hey ma, I've gotta get to school—d'ya think Mac can pick us up? The bus sucks," she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

Ms. Goldman rolled her eyes. "Sure, Chelsea," she said. "It'll be easier for me, I guess, since I have to take Jillian and her tuba to school."

"'Kay, I'll call her up," Chelsea said, taking out her mobile. "Hello? Yeah… hi! Can you pick me an' Aubrey up… sure thing… yup, I'm writing it down right now… yup… 'kay, see you in five… yup… 'kay, bye!" she hung up and stuck her phone in her back pocket. "C'mon, Aubrey, let's wait outside!"

"But I'm not dressed yet," I pointed out to her.

"Well then hurry up!" Chelsea cried, running out the front door. I ran downstairs to the basement and found a black button-down polo with blue stars decorating it and gray-wash jeans, slipped my feet into my black Converse, and paraded up the stairs while brushing my short, black and yellow-highlighted hair.

I met Chelsea outside just in time to see her step into the car with Mackenzie. Mackenzie's long red hair was styled in a bun on the very tip-top of her head, and she wore a navy blue skirt and white polo top. She came from a Catholic school, and her mom and step-dad still made her wear her old uniform.

"Hey Aubrey!" Mackenzie said, rolling down the windows of her red Corvette. "Get in!" I hopped over the door and breathed in the smell of pine trees.

"Sweet ride, Mac," Chelsea noted. "Almost as good as the Lamborghini mom's getting me for Christmas."

"Whatever, Chels," Mackenzie said, playfully. "Even though my Corvette isn't vintage like your Lam, it still runs like a baby!" she then asked me, "Aubrey, what car are you getting for your sixteenth?"

"Oh, I don't know—maybe a cute Acura or Accord," I said, thoughtfully.

"Oh. That's cool," Mackenzie said, trying to hide her sympathy for me. Silence erupted in the car for about a street, then I said, "Let's crank the tunes!" and I turned the radio up. We sang along to Lady GaGa's "Poker Face", then Bowling 4 Soup's "1985", then "Waking Up In Vegas" by Katy Perry, then we arrived at our high school—a small secluded high school with about two hundred students max.

We stepped out of the car and looked around for our group of guy friends under the Ramada in the center of the campus.

"We're the first ones here," I noted. "Strange." We waited for the guys to arrive, which technically took forever. Then we saw a big shuttle bus appear, and we knew the guys must've taken Stu's shuttle bus because at that moment, they stepped out.

First came Stu with his short-cut chocolate brown hair, deep tan, and mystifying green eyes, then Patrick, with his strawberry-blond hair and deep brown eyes, then Brandler, Chelsea's boyfriend with his spiked blond hair and clear, crystal blue eyes, then Jake, Chelsea's ex boyfriend with his dirty blond hair that competed with Brandler's and his misty green eyes, then accompanied by someone I had never seen before.

He was tall, and had black hair and green-blue eyes. His smile was bright and amazing, and he was new.

The gaggle of boys sauntered over to us. "Hey guys," Brandler said, flashing his bright teeth. He wrapped his arm around Chelsea's waist.

"Hi, Mac," Patrick said, bashfully. He had this huge crush on Mackenzie, and everybody knew it. I had tried to help him with that, but I had to help Mackenzie and Chelsea with their love problems so I had to have Chelsea be Patrick's love-life therapist.

"Hey Patrick," Mackenzie said, smiling.

"Hello, my name is Aubrey and who are you?" I asked the new boy, holding out my head and cocking my head to the side.

"Hi, I'm uh, Sean—as in Sean Connery," the boy said, awkwardly shaking my hand.

"Oh cool! I'm Aubrey, as in Aubrey Hepburn minus the 'b' and add the'd'," I said, smiling. I didn't notice until a minute later when Patrick was talking about motor cars that I still hadn't let go of Sean's hand.

"Who's Sean Connery?" Chelsea asked while texting on her phone.

"The first James Bond!" I exclaimed. I immediately began singing the James Bond Theme, and danced around. The guys looked at me awkwardly, cocking their eyebrows, while my gal pals just rolled their eyes and laughed.

I skipped off to the water fountain, and felt the cold water on my lips, and remembered my dream, and then I realized—the guy in the dark hood in my dream was Sean.


Thanks for reading! :D Please review and give me some constructive criticism! :) Just no flames. Flames r for losers. :)