Chapter 2

• I love it when you don't care about your looks. If you could be a princess of something, it would be the princess of not wearing the right clothes in a certain occasion. But you know what? That's one of the things I admire about you. You don't have to try to get everyone to like you because to put it frank, you don't give a crap.
• In the movies, the weird tomboy had to get into a dress for the guy to have his jaw drop and heart pounding on his chest, but I don't need that. Heck, you could wear the most normal clothes or even the baggiest garbage bag, and you'll still find me falling for you all over again.
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• February 15, 2016. 18-Years-Old.
• "Why won't you see him?" Mona asked, glaring at Kylie, hands clenched into fists. The brunette's cocoa skin was drenched with sweat, but she didn't look like she cared. Instead, she glared even harder, as if the sight of her being anger would make any difference. "Kylie! It's been a month and you need to let it g-"
• "I can't, okay?" Kylie cut her off, a hand still gripping the first letter. So this was what the letters were all about...this was Sam trying to reach out to her all over again and break her apart once more piece by piece. She hated this-hated the situation and despised the letters all together. "I can't. I don't..." she trailed off.
• "Look, I don't want this to be the thing that you regret. He might die, Ky. Don't you get that?" Mona slammed a book on the table, face flushed in frustration and eyes blazing in irritation.
• "He won't die!" She bellowed, causing Mona to take a step back. Kylie's vision blurred and the green letter fell from her grip, hitting the floor lifelessly. She could hear the wind whooshing, bending trees and scattering leaves. A few minutes passed and rain fell from a distance, droplets of water slapping the windowpane angrily. "Why do you keep saying that? He won't die, Mona, dammit. He can't die."
• Sam still dreamt of being an engineer.
• He is still waiting to get his high school diploma.
• He still wants to prove his father wrong...
• He can't die.
• Mona sighed, pulling Kylie to sit on the bed. The dark cushions and covers were all they needed to secure their warmth. "That's not for you to decide," she said softly. "No matter how you left things, Ky. He's still your best friend-deep down, you know that. Those letters?" She pointed at the bottle. "They were meant to survive the incident to show you that he's still Sam Kallis-the guy you befriended in first grade and the guy who's been there for you through the years. Just...just see him, and I'm telling you this not as his friend but as your best friend because if there is a chance of it happening, I don't want you to look back and wonder why you didn't go to the hospital and see him and regret this for your entire life."
• A face flashed into her mind. It was Sam...yet it wasn't him. His hair wasn't in the weird pokey shaped that she always teased him about, but instead it was flat on his head, sweat dangling from its tips. Then his face, though filled with stitches, was still scrunched in pain. There was a mask to cover his mouth and nose-he wasn't okay. He was suffering. Kylie wiped the horrid picture out, a bile rising up her throat. No. He won't look like that. Sam's strong. "He won't die," Kylie muttered, leaning onto Mona's shoulders. "I'm scared to see him, Mo. I don't know why."
• I'm supposed to be there for him and stand by him and even protect him.
• There are those people who would have their friends ripped from them by death. There are people who would beg to see them and hug them and tell them that everything would be okay. Kylie didn't want to regret not seeing him, but a part of her was afraid. A part of her was scared to see the state he was in, afraid that Mona was right-that he might have no chance at living. Did he though? Does he have a chance?
• And for her own selfish reasons, she didn't want him to die-not now, not with where they left off.
• "Everyone's scared for him, but we have to be strong, okay? We have to think that he'll survive and start saying sorry to you himself."
• Kylie looked up at Mona, then glanced out the window, seeing the sky turn different shades of grey right before their eyes. "Do you think he'll survive though? Will he make it?"
• Mona gave her a thin-lipped smile that didn't reach up her eyes, "He's Sam Kallis-the guy who even death doesn't want."
• But she didn't answer Kylie's question.
• August 15, 2004. Seven-Years-Old.
• Kylie Darthrow wasn't like most of the girls in first grade. She didn't try too hard to get her braids up and silky like theirs. She didn't wear frilly dresses that would get dirty in the mud anyways. She was practical. Kylie was one of the few girls who wore pants to school and a baggy shirt so she could stretch and pay attention to class...at least, that was the plan, if she didn't get distracted all the time.
• Some teased her for it. They laughed at her for having a tomboy-ish clothes, but she didn't care. At least, that was what Kylie wanted to think; she didn't care. They could be rough with her too, sometimes pulling Kylie's hair or spreading glue on her shirt, but she stood strong. She wanted to show everyone that she was confident-just like what her mother had advised-and in a few days, the bullying came to a full halt.
• Kylie once again, held her head up high with pudgy hands attached to the straps of her backpack like it was stapled onto it and strolled into the colorful classroom. The sun was still misted with fog and the young first grader scrutinized the clock.
• Thirty minutes early. I still have time to play at the park.
• Maybe I can find another animal!
• A grin split across her lips and her short legs sprinted out of the room and into the grassy paths. A few minutes later, bright monkey bars painted with blue and green came to view and so did a familiar friend hanging over the bars, hands stretched like a monkey's as his legs swung to the beat. "Sam!" she called, running over to him. Her bright green rubber shoes were now dirtied with mud.
• Sam was her friend-one of the few who didn't tease her for the way she looked and who bothered to eat lunch with her after school. He looked at her and immediately dropped to the ground, eyes suddenly wide as if he thought she had grown eight hands. He spread his hands and waved them around, slapping down nonexistent bugs. "Stop!" He yelled and she did, the soles of her shoes digging into the soil. "You can't be here."
• Doesn't he want me here?
• Kylie frowned. They hadn't played in the playground before since there was rain and she always said that they'd go and play there some day. All he did was nod and say a soft 'yeah, sure'. Had he changed his mind?
• She furrowed her eyebrows, "Why?"
• He shuffled uncomfortably, looking like a dog that wrecked the house. "I'll get you dirty." Sam looked down. "My cousin didn't want to play with me when I got her dirty once."
• "I like dirt." Tilting her head, she placed her hands in the pockets and closed her eyes, waiting for the shocked reaction that would seal her fate. He wouldn't want to be friends with her anymore.
• "You do?" However, the awaited reaction didn't happen, instead, when she opened her eyes, he scrutinized her as if she were an alien. "You won't stop being friends with me?"
• "No! So, do you want to come and play at the slide or are you going to stop being friends with me?"
• Sam shook his head rapidly, "Why will I stop being friends with you? That's awesome!" He tugged her arm and finally grinned up at her. "Come on, let's go to the slide."
• The two giggled mischievously and ran directly to the bright red slide. Sam's soiled colored hands smudged her arms and clothes when he pulled her back just when she was about to climb the stairs. "Look!" He gasped. "It's a caterpillar."
• "What?" She scooted over to take a good look.
• "It's very green," he announced. "It has black stripes too."
• It did have black stripes on it with little miniature legs padding down the black surface. "I think it's going to eat the leaf." Kylie pointed at the bright green leaf just a few feet away from the caterpillar. "Do you think it's poisonous?"
• "Nope. It looks cool."
• The caterpillar stopped moving as if it was waiting for them to leave it alone. It looks so cute! Kylie grinned, a finger sliding down the caterpillar's back before looking up at Sam. "Should we keep it?"
• "I want to name it Ball!"
• "Ball? We should call it Slide! We found it on the slide." She pointed out.
• He sighed, "It's a stupid name!"
• She pouted, "But Ball is also a stupid name! At least mine makes sense."
• A few minutes later, the two students sprinted back into the classroom, got a jar from the teacher's table and ran back to the slide to see the caterpillar already on the leaf. Sam pushed it into a jar and closed it tightly, making sure that there were enough leaves in it.
• The caterpillar was now named Slide.
• December 8, 2014. 17-Years-Old.
• "Okay, you look like shit."
• Those were the first words Jenny Mason said when she opened the door to her room. Deadpanned, she let her in, mouth gaping like a fish. Kylie sighed, "Thank you, Jen. Seriously."
• Jenny was the complete opposite of Kylie. She was the campus's fashion expert. Jenny just knew what to wear at any occasion and still look fabulous whether she was spending a day at an orphanage or a midnight gala, she could pull anything off...except red, of course, a fact which Jenny expressed a large annoyance with.
• She rolled her eyes and the redhead twirled around in her dark green gown that reached her ankles, showing beautiful gold sandals. Jenny shook her head and gave a disapproving noise. "Why are we even friends?" She asked, waving her hands up in the air exasperatedly before motioning to Kylie's dark washed jeans and fitted red shirt. "I mean sure...this outfit is acceptable enough, honey, but if you're heading to the mall or something! Ugh. We're heading to a dance, a school dance, and we have to look fabulous, not homeless."
• "Calm down, Jen. Gosh, you're going to give your poor grandma downstairs a heart attack from shrieking like that." Another soft voice said and they turned around to see Mona. While Jenny was all out glamour, Mona had more of a simplistic glow to herself. With a white dress that flowed to her knees and a short furry jacket, she looked beautiful without overdoing it.
• But still, none of them fitted Kylie's style.
• Mona turned to Kylie with an eyebrow raised, "Well, don't you look all ready for the dance?" she said sarcastically but didn't say anymore before she flopped onto Jenny's bed, hands hugging a stuffed penguin. "We've got thirty minutes till we need to arrive. Do you think I'd fit the dress code?"
• "Of course you of all people will be concerned about the rules. Well, Kylie here wouldn't fit in any dress code since she isn't supposed to wear any of this," Jenny gave her a pointed glare before giving an exasperated sigh. "Oh, what's the point? It's not like you're going to listen to me even if I gave you thousands of reasons why jeans are not acceptable at the ball. I mean seriously, do you think Cinderella would've caught Prince Charming's attention in the ball if she were wearing stupid rags? No. Even the fairy godmother had to dress her up and make her look pretty to get the guy to marry her."
• "It's a school dance, a very religious school dance mind you. I bet you couldn't be even a foot away from the guy even if you tried," Kylie snorted and Mona rolled her eyes.
• "Don't bet anything with her. She'd do it in a heartbeat."
• "Deal."
• They both said it at the same time, and Jenny grinned triumphantly. "Come on, let's give those guys a heart attack. Well not you, Ky. The only guy you're going to give a heart attack is the fashion police."
• "Or Sam," Mona quipped, her blood red lips inching up into a small smile.
• "Or Sam." Jenny rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement.
• And they were off.
• º º º º º
• The party didn't look like a normal party. The songs weren't as loud as it should have been, and every now and then, the school would humor itself into switching it into a gospel tune. The students didn't even bother to glance at each other as they were too busy scratching their sleeves and their backs from the heat due to the broken air conditioner.
• The party could possibly have been worst event she had ever been to or would ever go to in the future.
• The guys and girls were a few feet apart from each other, and if they wanted to dance, they would simply stand in front of each other with hands together and half an arm apart. There were even a few teachers measuring their distance with their arms to make sure that the rule was something that couldn't be broken.
• Mona scoffed, "Still want to take that dare, Jen?"
• Jenny scowled darkly, looking at how the teachers stared disapprovingly at every step she took. "It's not my fault! I didn't expect that they'd be this overprotective. I mean, what happened to having fun and drinking lots? What's that quote we used in History, 'Be merry for tomorrow we live'?"
• "It's 'Eat, drink, and be merry' for tomorrow we die," Mona corrected. "And two words Jen-teenage pregnancy. I'm too young to be a godmother."
• "Two words back at you, Mo-fuck you."
• Kylie shook her head and glanced around the place. There were golden streamers hanging from the high ceiling and the tables covered with silver balloons and white tablecloths. There were a variety of flowers sitting on the tables and empty wine glasses.
• The school was probably mocking them.
• This party would've rocked...if it were in the eighties.
• "Ooh!" Mona jumped. "Sam's here."
• And she was correct. There, at the far end of the room, Sam had entered, his dark hair spiked up like a pineapple and dark grey eyes hooded by long lashes that every girl envied. He wore a button down shirt just like the rest of the guys except his was orange not white and slacks. He looked okay...except for his hair maybe. Kylie hid a laugh.
• "Sometimes, I could see why Mo ships this," Jenny said bitterly. "Both of you need help when it comes to fashion."
• "Shut it, Jen," Mona grinned. "Let's head to the food. You're hungry right? Come on. See you later Kylie! Say hi to Sam for me."
• "I'm going to kill you," Kylie sang.
• "I prefer a bullet through the head please;" Mona waved before disappearing in the crowd surrounding the food table.
• And then there was one.
• Pink lips slanting down, Kylie stared at the oncoming guy before walking towards him herself, making sure that there was a bit of distance between them so that no administrator would come marching in and pushing them apart. "Well, don't you look underdressed," Sam observed, chuckling.
• "Well, your hair and shirt looks ridiculous, so we're even."
• His eyes glinted; "You still look beautiful though."
• "Can't say the same for you."
• He laughed.
• These past few years had been a tiny bit awkward for them ever since Sam had said that he still liked her, continuing to send her gifts to show that he was telling the truth. This was one of the few moments where Kylie didn't feel weird being with him-as if he was still the best friend she could lean on rather than a guy who kept on pushing for her to tell him if she did like him back.
• Kylie didn't know what came over her but she grabbed his hand and poked him on the chest. "C'mon! Let's waltz."
• The waltz was the only dance she knew. And by knew, she meant it was the only one she had seen in movies. And it was probably the only one that was acceptable in a place like this.
• "On Jingle Bells?"
• "Scared you couldn't keep up with the beat?"
• He scoffed, "You're underestimating my talent."
• "Then let's dance!"
• The party wasn't as great as it could have been and that Kylie and Sam made fools of themselves on the dance floor after getting scolded by the teacher for being too close.
• But somehow, Kylie wouldn't even change the night for even a bit.