AN: So this novel was a present for my ex-girlfriend. And she had a few demands and I tried to accomplish them, but the characters weren't really doing what I wanted. So be warned, this is not my best work. It did not end at all how I thought it was going to and parts of it may not make sense. But for now, this is what it is.

Also, I think I got it all, but if it says Kylie anywhere, that means Molly. Her name was Kylie once upon a time. Let me know if I missed any of those.

Chapter One- Friday

She's beautiful, that's what you notice about her first. How beautiful she is. Her long brown hair is tied up in a pony tail and the smile on her face just radiates pure happiness. It's not perfect, of course. But that's what you like about it. It's imperfections. There are bags under her eyes and laugh lines by her smile. You can tell she's tired. You can tell she hasn't slept enough. You can tell she needs this job. And most people, when they need a crap-ass job like this, they don't like it. But the smile on her face says she does. The smile on her face says that there's no where else in the world she'd rather be. You doubt that this is the place she would want to be if she could be anywhere, but she's content to be here. She doesn't hate it and that makes you smile. She's wearing green. It's the uniform, so she has to. She looks good in it though. And you think she likes it. It matches her eyes. They're the colour green that Harry Potter's are supposed to be.

"Molly," says a voice and you reluctantly turn your eyes away from her.
"Yeah?" you ask the long haired blond sitting across from you.

"You zoned out," says Sammie, her brilliant smile gone from her face. "Again. I asked when you were seeing George next."

Right. George. You can't forget about George. Your boyfriend.

"Oh," you say. "I don't know. He's working today."

"You said that ten minutes ago," she reminds you.

"Oh right," you say, glancing next to you. "Hey, where's Leo?"

"He left like five minutes ago, while you were still zoning off," she tells you.

"Oh," you say. Damn. You've got to be paying attention more often.

"And you have class in about two minutes."

"Shit," you say and grab your bag. "Can you pay?"

"I got it, go," she says, waving you away as she pulls out her wallet. You take one last glance at the waitress and run out. You're going to be late to law again. You're late to math way to often. Every day you meet Sammie and Leo for lunch at The Zylafone, the little cafe on the corner of campus. Everyday, you try to stay as long as you can. Because of her. You don't even know her name. She's never your waitress. She's in your math class though. You don't pay all that much attention in math class.

You race across campus. Professor Sternburg isn't going to be happy if you're late again. It's a Monday, Wednesday, Friday class and you were late two days already this week. You can't remember the policy on lateness from the syllabus. You barely read that thing, just kind of skimmed it.

One o'clock already, that's when class starts. Fuck. You're officially late.

You slide into the classroom. The professor glares a little and you send him an apologetic look before heading to your seat quietly.

You slip into your seats. It's an Intro class. Boring stuff. You know all this already. You took a class like this in high school. You didn't want to have to take it again, but your adviser said you had to. For the credit thing. You think it's dumb to take a class when you already know the material. Can't you just sign up for it and take the final and be done with it? Not have to waste your time on it.

He's going on about torts today. Blah, blah, blah. This is all common sense shit. It's nothing interesting. Nothing you don't know. You don't care. So obviously, you mind doesn't stay on it. Instead, it wanders to the pretty girl at the cafe. No, the beautiful girl at the restaurant. She wasn't just pretty. She was beautiful. She is beautiful. You've seen her around before. She's been in your math class all semester.

But you never really looked at her until today. Well, you did. But not this much. You noticed she's pretty before. You'd look at her, smiled. But that was all. Today, you couldn't stop looking at her. Today you realized she's not pretty, she's beautiful. She's gorgeous. And today, you decided you need to get to know her.

He dismisses class early. You start to walk out, glad to be out of there.

"Collins," he says and you groan.

"Yeah?" you ask, hanging your head and walking over to him. You were so close to being out of there. It's your last class of the day. You don't want to be here anymore.

"You've been late every day this week," he says. "And it's not the first time that's happened."

"I'm sorry," you say because there isn't any excuse. You get caught up talking to Sammie or Leo or staring at that beautiful girl. That's not a reason he would accept for being late.

"Is everything okay?" he asks. "Is there some reason why you're always late?"

"No," you say. "I'll try to be on time from now on."

He nods and looks like he doesn't believe you. You send him an apologetic face.

He signs and motions for you to go. You slink out of the class. You should look up his policy on lateness in the syllabus. If you can find it. It's somewhere. You think. You really have no idea.

You walk slower as you go across campus this time. There's no reason to rush. There are people scattered all over the place. Some of them rushing to classes. Some of them goofing around with their friends. Some just sitting, and reading. A few months ago, it would have been getting dark around now. It's bright now though.

You parked over by the cafe. It's the farthest parking lot from all of your classes, but you really don't mind.

The beautiful girl parks there too. You assume it's because it's close to the cafe. You've seen her get into her car a few times. It's pink. That's what made you notice it. You saw her and you saw the pink car before you ever connected the two of them. That's why you were watching when you saw her get in it. Because it was a pink car and really, there aren't that many pink cars on the roads. In fact, this is the only one you've ever seen. It's the only one anyone in Sunkist has ever seen. It's not a very big town. And even in big cities, the cars all tend to be similar colours. Or at least, normal ones. Red. Black. White. Silver. Blue. Yellow. Not really pink. Or even orange or purple. You think that's a shame. The roads should be more colourful.

Your car is boring. It's blue. Not a boring dark blue, but a light blue. Still, it's not as interesting as a pink car. You glance around as you enter the parking lot. The pink car is still there. There's no sign of the pretty girl.

You wish you could have gotten a cooler car, but you know you should be grateful for the one you have. Mrs. Sheffield didn't have to buy it for you. She doesn't have to do anything for you anymore. You're eighteen and legally you're on your own. None of your other foster parents would have let you stay. You're glad she was your last. She was the best. You're glad she let you stay, otherwise, you would have no where to go. Kailey wasn't too happy with it, of course. It meant she had to keep sharing her room. She's twelve. She doesn't like sharing her room. But you've been there for about a year now and she's kind of getting over it. She was hoping to get it back when you turned eighteen. Or when you went away to college. But she didn't. You don't really like sharing a room with her either, but it's much better than being on the street.

You get into the car and drive home on autopilot.

The house is locked up. Kailey 's still at school. Mrs. Sheffield's at work.

You unlock it and go straight to your room. Your cell phone rings. You glance at it. George. He's not at work yet.

"Hey," you say, answering the phone and setting your backpack down at the same time.

"Hey," he says. He's doing that stupid thing where he tries to make his voice sound deep and failing. Boys are dumb sometimes. A lot of the time.

"What's up?" you ask.

"Just wanted to say hi before I go to work."

He works at his uncle's garage joint. You refuse to see him after work because he always smells gross.

"Well, hi," you say, heading into the kitchen. You just ate lunch. You don't need a snack. You eat anyway.

"Wanna hang out tomorrow, babe? I'm not working."

You wrack your brain. You don't have plans tomorrow.

"Yeah, sure," you tell him, entirely unenthusiastic. "Your house?"

"'Course," he says. He doesn't like Kailey . She likes him even less than she likes you. You're pretty sure she likes you at least a little. And she doesn't like him at all. She despises him completely. You have no idea why. Whenever you ask, she just gets all mysterious and won't tell you. She's like that sometimes. Twelve year olds. They're weird.

"Awesome," you say.

"Awesome," he echoes. "I gotta go to work, babe."

"See you tomorrow," you say.

"See ya," he says. He hangs up and you roll your eyes. You only eat a small snack then head into your room to start your homework. Professor Sternburg assigned a whole bunch of briefs.

Kailey gets home ten minutes later than normal and drops her bag on her bed before she lays down and groans.

You glance over her and try to finish your brief. She groans again.

"I hate boys," she announces.

"Something wrong, Kailey?" you ask.

"Obviously," she says and doesn't elaborate. You roll your eyes.

"Well, what is it?" you ask.

"They're just so stupid. Like, why bother?"

You refrain from telling her it's because penises feel good.

"I have no idea," you say because other than that, you really don't. Boys are dumb and they smell. Well, not all of them. But George is. He didn't even graduate high school. He dropped out his senior year, which was the year before yours. He hasn't really done anything productive since then.

"Seriously though," she says turning over to face you. She doesn't have her dramatic face on anymore. "Why do you bother?"

"I don't know," you say.

"You've got to have some reason for not dumping the Big Dumbie yet," she pushes. That's what she calls him. The Big Dumbie. 'Cause he's big and dumb, she says.

"I haven't found a reason to yet," you say and you don't like that you've tacked that yet on there because it means you're going to eventually. You like George, you really do.

"He's a high school drop out with no foreseeable future who doesn't treat you like he should and smells," she suggests.

"He's got a future," you argue weakly. "He's working at his uncle's garage."

"No productive future," she corrects herself. "Come on, Molly, would you really content yourself to that?"

And you stare at her for a minute. She's twelve. And she doesn't like you. That was never something you were expecting to come out of her mouth. At least, not for a couple of years.

You don't know what to say to that. She's making valid points.

"Aren't you supposed to be starting to like guys at this age?" you ask.

"Way to just stereotype," she snorts. "Not everyone has to like boys, you know."

"Well aware of that," you say, thinking of the beautiful waitress. "You like girls?"

"Might just be a late bloomer," she says and shrugs. "Regardless, I don't like boys currently. That may change. Although, if George is anything to go by, they don't get much better when they grow up."

If her dad is anything to go by, they don't get much better later in life either. Or your dad for that matter.

You don't bother to defend your boyfriend. You stopped doing that months ago, there wouldn't be any convincing her even if you did have a good argument.

She whips her long blond hair around and smirks, knowing she's won.

You roll your eyes.

"It's our turn to make dinner," you remind her.

"You mean, your turn," she says, looking at you over her think framed glasses.

"Technically," you agree. "But I did your turn week because you were at Alyssa's. Therefore, you're helping me."

She grumbles and finally agrees. You finish your briefs and she does some math homework. About a half hour before Mrs. Sheffield usually gets home you head into the kitchen.

After quite a lot of bickering, you and Kailey finally decide on casserole. Then you bicker about what to put in it.

Somehow, you manage to get everything ready by the time Mrs. Sheffield comes home and she looks really grateful. She works really long hours and you're glad that you can help out in anyway.

"Molly made me helps," tattles Kailey as soon as she's in the door. You bring the casserole to the table.

"You'll live," says Mrs. Sheffield and starts to go upstairs.

"Dinner is ready as soon as you are," you tell her.

"I'm hungry," says Kailey.

"You should have had a snack," you tell her.

"I was busy."

"Complaining about the existence of boys."

"They're dumb and they smell."

"Girls can smell too," you inform her as you set the table.

"I know. I live with one who does."

You roll your eyes and set the napkins around.

"At least, I don't sleep with blankie still."

She looks mortified and turns bright red. You laugh because there isn't any reason for her to be embarrassed about that. You slept with yours for years. Until it was gone. And it's not like anyone who could hear you didn't already know that. You know that. Her mom knows that.

She gets a serving spoon for the casserole and doesn't say anything else.

Dinner is fairly calm. Mrs. Sheffield tells you all about her day. Kailey spouts of some random things that have nothing to do with her hate of boys. You tell them you have a lot of homework. Kailey just rolls her eyes.

You leave Kailey to clean up even though she complains. You check your phone when you get back to you room and realize that Leo called awhile ago. You call him back.

"Hey," you say when he answered. "You called?"

"Yeah," he says. "Just calling to make sure that you weren't still staring at that waitress."

"Fuck you," you tell him. Kailey comes back in as you say it and shakes her head disapprovingly.

"That was clearly not what was on your mind," he says. You take the phone outside so that Kailey can't eavesdrop. She rolls her eyes as you walk past her bed.

"Seriously, Leo," you say. "Not funny. Kailey was in the room for that."

He just laughs.

"Did you just call to mock me?" you ask him.

"Pretty much," he says and you try to remember why he's your best friend.

"Screw you," you say.

"Again," he says.

"Leo, I'm going to kill you."

"Nothing new," he says because you've been telling him that for years.

"Is that seriously all you wanted?"

"Nah. Want to have a movie marathon this weekend?"

"Don't think I can," you say. "I'm hanging out with George tomorrow. And I have work on Sunday."

"You're still dating George?" he asks in mock surprise. Leo doesn't really like George either. Mrs. Sheffield thinks it's because Leo likes you. You highly doubt that.

"Why do I keep you around?"

"Because I'm awesome. But seriously, if you get some time after you're date tomorrow, come on over."

"Got it," you say. You probably will end up at his house. You usually do, regardless of what you plan on happening. "You inviting Sammie?"

"Nah," he says. "If you hadn't been staring at that waitress, you'd know that she has a date tomorrow night."


"No, but you weren't paying enough attention to know that."

"Fuck you," you say and you hang up. You don't know why he didn't invite Sammie. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't. Maybe he did and he's just messing with you. Either way, it doesn't really matter all that much.

Kailey rolls her eyes again when you go back into the room. Whatever was up with her earlier that made her talk to you has vanished. She's back to mostly ignoring you with a side of rolling her eyes. You're glad it's back to normal. It gives you time to finish your briefs. You don't want to have to do homework the rest of the weekend. You have plans.