I wring my clammy hands nervously. At every corner we take on the road, my pulse picks up and my mouth turns dry, knowing that we are arriving at our destination soon.

The action doesn't go unnoticed by Aunt Abbie. Glancing sideways at how I'm fidgeting in my seat, she flashes an encouraging smile at me from behind the wheels.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll be fine."

I crack a small smile at her, but I'm not convinced.

Today is the start of a new beginning. Today, she is driving me to Lakeshore North High School.

Despite several attempts at telling myself that nothing bad will happen in school, I ended up not getting much sleep the night before. I'm slowly losing my mind, and it has gotten pretty obvious to the point when I started pouring water instead of milk into my bowl of cereal earlier this morning. Or even when I left the house, unaware that I was wearing my blouse inside out, until my aunt pointed it out to me.

God. The jitters are getting to me and I don't know how to get rid of it.

We arrive early at the school's entrance. The morning sun hides behind a cloud, casting a gray shaft of light over the school. Only a handful of students litter the grounds, chatting in small groups. The school bell will ring in another thirty minutes, which gives me plenty of time to report to the administration office and find my first class.

My hand grips the car's door handle to open it, but I hesitate for a second. The moment I step out, it's a given that people will start staring at me and questioning the reason behind my transfer, but if I refuse to answer, will rumors spread? How bad will they be? What if they suspect something which leads them to my medical history?

It's not something that I'm deliberately hiding because I'm embarrassed. I just don't want any unnecessary attention on myself again.

A storm of questions stirs my mind, stripping away my confidence like a tornado tearing off a building's roof, but a sudden thought breaks forth—if I could survive a car accident and awake from a coma, how bad would a mere school experience get as compared to that?

Aunt Abbie peers into my face in concern. "Are you sure you don't want me to head into the office with you?" she offers, jolting me from my train of thoughts. "I can even walk you to class–"

"No!" I exclaim, but it comes out louder than I expect. I really don't wish to make myself stand out again, especially if the other students see an adult escorting me into school. "Sorry—I'm good."

Aunt Abbie stares at me for a while as understanding sets in. "Alright, if that's what you want. But ring me if you need anything. I'll come over as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

I give her a weak smile. Regaining a little of my confidence, I open the car door and slip out quickly. Aunt Abbie shoots me another assuring smile and gestures for me to enter, waiting to make sure I've entered the school before driving off.

Inhaling deeply, I gaze up at the old building before me. Chewing on my bottom lip nervously, I mumble under my breath.

Well, here goes nothing.

I stride up the steps leading into school and down into the hallway, trying to blend in with the other kids. It doesn't take me long to locate the administration office, where a pretty nice lady hands me my timetable and tells me my locker number.

Back in the main hallway, I search for my homeroom class. Students walk past me with their books in hand, but thankfully, only a couple of them spare a curious look in my direction. I relax a little, but not completely.

Maybe things aren't as bad as I think.

When I turn around the corner, I immediately wish I could take my words back. I ram into a pillar and fall backwards, landing my butt on the ground first. Wincing at the pain, I mentally curse before glaring up at the wretched wall, but only to lock eyes with a pair of bright ocean blue eyes.

An attractive blonde guy stares down at me, his face wearing a surprised expression. With an apologetic look on his face, he offers me his hand.

"I'm really sorry! Didn't see you right there."

Almost hesitantly, I accept his hand, allowing him to pull me up. Brushing the dirt off my jeans, I study him beneath my lashes. He seems like a nice guy and not like those typical, mean jocks that Aunt Abbie has warned me to stay away from.

Apology spreads across his face. I don't blame him for not seeing me, considering how I barely even reach his shoulders. I'm 5"3 and I don't see myself as a short person. Rather, this guy is simply just a massive giant.

"It's fine," I reply. "I'm okay."

His brows knot into a frown. "Look—I'll buy you a drink. I'm really sorry–"

I hold up a hand, and he pauses in his sentence. "It's cool. There's no harm done. I'm perfectly fine. Really."

"Alright, if you say so..." he drawls, before his curious eyes check me out. "Are you new here? I feel like I've seen you before, but I may be wrong. And oh, before I forget—I'm Taylor."

When he flashes his breathtaking, killer smile at me, I find my words lodge in my throat. Around us, more people are shooting curious glances in our direction. And it's probably because he's the reason.

"Riley," I answer quietly. "It's my first day here today."

His smile broadens, flashing his perfect white teeth. "Having any troubles finding your way around? I can help you if you're lost."

His kind offer surprises me. Maybe school will not turn out as horrid as I thought.

I decide to accept his help. I show him the piece of paper I'm clutching in my hand, shaking my head in confusion. "To be honest, I'm a little lost looking for my homeroom class," I admit. "Any idea where this room is?"

He takes my timetable. "Of course, room 3-14 is along the way. It's just a few classrooms away from my class," he grins. "Come on, let's go together."

He leads the way, leaving me to follow him. We walk down the hallway and it seems like people automatically part to make way for him. Almost everyone that we encounter greets Taylor like they haven't seen each other for a month.

Exactly how popular is this guy?

Walking beside him is like having the stage light shining on me. People can't stop staring at me now, obviously wondering who the fresh face is. I keep my eyes and head low to avoid their gazes. I walk right behind Taylor, using his broad build to shield myself from curious onlookers.

Suddenly, he slows his pace to speak to a friend, one who is coming from the opposite direction.

"Hey, Kyle." He clasps the guy's shoulder and I can't help but notice how the both of them are equally tall. "Are you coming next Friday night? To the party at my house?"

Kyle glances up at the call of his name, looking bored. "Maybe," he answers, before his eyes move past him and land on me instead.

Our eyes meet and something unexplainable passes between us. I watch as his eyes light up immediately and his body goes rigid. He pauses abruptly in his tracks, his gaze pins on me. His emerald eyes grow dark and stormy, and not once do they leave my face.

I feel myself growing stiff. Am I imagining things, or does he look extremely pissed at me?

Kyle's next question confirms my suspicion. "Why is she here?" he hisses.

"Oh, her?" Taylor jerks his head at me, failing to notice how worked up Kyle is. "Just helping a lost junior find her way around. Kyle, meet Riley. Riley, meet Kyle."

Our staring contest continues. I observe him from head to toe. He's tall, athletic-built and devilishly handsome with slightly tousled raven hair. The only thing that puts him off is his intimidating, glacial aura that is emanating off him.

I decide to go first. "Hello," I mutter quickly.

Kyle remains silent, his eyes narrowing when I speak. He looks as if he wants to say something, but the school bell beats him to it.

"Oh no, we are going to be late. Can't have her getting into trouble on the first day of school. See you later, bro." Taylor slaps Kyle's arm lightly as he hurries past him, gesturing for me to follow. I trail after him wordlessly, but I can't help but sneak a quick glance back.

Just like I expect, Kyle is still there. He hasn't moved away from his spot and is still watching us...

... or rather, me.

❖

Dear Riley,

Aunt Abbie says playing the piano was your favorite pastime.

Today, I tried. My mind doesn't remember, but my fingers do.

For a reason unknown, the melody that I played makes my heart ache faintly.