Rebecca sat in AP Chemistry, unusually unfocused. For some reason, her mind was drifting around that awkward area of boys—well, to be specific, one certain boy—she couldn't think his name out loud (even in her own head), it would be too embarrassing! She shook her head, looking back at her worksheet. Oddly enough, everything written on the paper seemed, well, foreign to her. It was weird; chem was her thing.

Ugh, she thought. This was another reason why she didn't bother socializing with others. It distracted her too much from her work. Sure, she was at the top of her class, but her guidance counselor had informed her that a student (who wished to remain anonymous) was a close second. She couldn't let her guard down, not for one minute.

I mean, it's not like he meant anything by it. It was total pity, one side of her head thought.

Of course he did, you stupid! He almost kissed you. There's something there, the other protested.

A third thought popped in. REBECCA. CHEMISTRY. FOCUS.

She was so in tune with her arguing (with herself) that she didn't notice Mitch step into the classroom. "I have a pass for Miss Willington," she heard a familiar voice say. Before she could look up to see who it was, the door shut. The teacher nodded at her to pick it up.

It read as follows:

'FOR: Rebecca Willington
TO: Guidance
TIME: Immediately
FROM: M…K…'

She couldn't make out the rest of the signature, but she assumed it said Ms. Kate (her counselor). So she picked up all of her stuff, awkwardly shuffled past the students, and mumbled "goodbye" to her teacher. Closing the door behind her, she backed into a body, turned, saw who it was, and jumped backwards. "M-Mitch!"

A grin spread across his face. "Becks!" He pulled her in for an unexpected hug. She tried to resist, but he was too strong. As soon as he loosened his grip, she tugged away, her cheeks pink. "So, you got my pass?"

"What?"

"Do you have hearing problems? You're always asking me that, like you can't hear me."

"I'm going back to class." She tried to turn around.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Nope. I've got you excused for the day!"

"How the hell did you do that?"

"Let's just say I've got some leeway in the system. C'mon, now, let's go!"

"Wait! Go wher-" He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the door to the student parking lot, cutting her off.

Rebecca slammed her head back against the leather upholstery of Mitch's car. "Oh come on," he began. "You'll love where I'm going to take you."

She knew that there was no use protesting. The least I can do is buckle my seatbelt…So she did, and folded her arms so he could know that she was NOT PLEASED.

"Come on!" he stretched out his words, almost whining.

"What? I've accepted the fact that you're forcing me to skip school. I hardly know you, so you can't expect me to be happy about it."

"Show a little appreciation, why don't ya? Your ticket was expensive."

"My ticket—"

Mitch interrupted her with a screech into a parking spot. "We're here!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes and stepped out. In front of her was some sort of building—one she'd never seen before—made of brick. "What's this?"

Mitch grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. "C'mon, we don't wanna miss this!" He dragged her inside, where they were lazily greeted by a young woman chomping loudly on gum. "Ticket please," she mumbled unenthusiastically. "Yeah, here you go," Mitch said, handing her the two tickets.

Rebecca followed him into a medium-sized room with lots of tables and a stage at the front. There were roughly twenty people around; they all looked like they were in college, too. Mitch took one of the front tables, pulled out a chair for him and Rebecca, and motioned for her to sit. "What is this, a restaurant?"

"Shh, it's about to start." And soon enough, a casually dressed man walked out onto the stage. The curtains rose behind him and there was a small jazz band.

"No way," Rebecca whispered.