Chapter 1

Beep... Beep... Beep..

My eyes fly open at the sound of my obnoxious alarm. Looking over, I notice my phone flashing exactly 6:00 a.m. Groaning I stick my hand out of the warmth of my blankets to turn the sound off. Rolling over I open my eyes to the blinding sunshine coming through my window. With a gasp, I remember I had fallen asleep last night texting my boyfriend.

In a haste I quickly go to my messages on my phone and click the inbox. I have five missed texts.

Scrolling down, I see they are all from Daniel except one. The very last one is what makes my breath catch in my throat. It could not be. My ex best friend, ex boyfriend, and first love.

Zach..

*Three years ago*

"Kayla! I told you my parents said no to me going out tonight!" I whisper shout out my bedroom window at my best friend.

"I know! That's why I'm breaking you out! You'll be gone for like an hour. I'll have you home before anyone even notices."

I shake my head at her logic. I desperately want to see Zach and everyone else. This was the last day of school party that everyone had been looking forward to. It's infuriating that my parents won't let me go.

"Okay! Alright! I'll be down in a minute."

She waves in acknowledgement. I quietly get dressed in a cute romper and sandals. I toss my hair up in a messy bun and grab my phone, keys, and wallet on my way out the front door. Carefully closing the door so it doesn't creak. I was officially on the clock until my parents noticed I was missing.

"Let's go have a little bit of fun, shall we?" Kayla was oozing excitement.

The party was in full swing when we got there. There was a decent mixture of kids from the entire school at this party from every grade. The dance floor was packed with sweaty bodies that leaked teenage hormones. I wasn't entirely surprised to see the various colors of liquid in all the red solo cups.

Kayla disappears from my side almost immediately to go get a drink. I explore farther into the party until I find Brandon, Zach's best friend.

"Hey! Where's Zach?" I find that I need to shout for him to hear me. I can tell he's already drunk by the way he's swaying back and forth and leaning against the wall. Surprisingly he hears me and clears his throat.

"Pretty sure he went upstairs. Stella, I don't think you should go up there. I think he'll be down soon though."

I don't have a good feeling about this at all. "Brandon, why shouldn't I go upstairs? What's going on?" My stomach started to twist in knots. I know subconsciously something was seriously wrong.

Without waiting for Brandon to answer, I turn around and fly up the stairs needing to see for myself. I need to know the truth of the situation. When I opened the only closed door in the hallway, I found that I was not emotionally or physically ready to see the truth.

***

Jerking back to the present, I looked down at the message. It took me a moment to convince myself that I was not just seeing things. That it really existed.

Opening it, I read it's contents.

Z. Mitchell: Stella, we really need to talk.

That's all. My thoughts went into a rampage. A mixture of pure frustration and raw anger. Why now? Why is it so important we talk now? What happened to the last three years? Nothing in the past could matter, right? Or could it?

He was probably just drunk or high anyway when he sent that message. He probably does not remember it. Feeling slightly better with that thought, I climbed out of bed and headed to get ready for the first day of senior year.

*****

At the sound of my iPod blaring heavy rock, I jerk out of my usual nightmare and back into reality. Leaning back on my pillow, I rub my hands over my face. Turning my head, I stare at a handwritten letter that has been sitting on my bedside table since freshmen year. My thoughts take me back to the day that I received it.

*three years ago*

It's a hot spring day, the humidity is through the roof. I look at my car radio clock and notice that I am a full ten minutes early before the first bell. Grabbing my iPod and backpack I lock my car and head for the front doors of the building. "Hey stranger!" Glancing over my shoulder I notice my best friend climbing out of her mom's truck.

Turning my music down, I wait for her to catch up with me. When she gets close enough to hear, I shout back, "Hey grass fairy!" Smiling at her familiar laugh, I link my arm with hers as she approaches me.

"So, are you ready for your first experience outside the country?" I'm happy to see her so full of smiles and energy today. The last few days Stella was cranky and had bags under her eyes she tried unsuccessfully to cover with makeup. With a frown I think to myself that I must be the only one who notices. In my opinion a vacation is exactly what she needs.

"I sure as hell am." Stella laughed. "you're so going to miss me while I'm gone." We sit down at a table in the front commons to wait the final minutes before the bell to signal they could head to the lockers. I notice how cold her fingers are when she accidentally brushed my hand reaching for her purse on the table. Rolling my eyes, I reach down into my backpack and pull out two blue Gatorades and place one in front of each of us.

"Zach! Why do you keep bringing me Gatorade? I've told you a hundred times, it's expensive and I do not want you to worry about me!"

"Stella, shut up and drink it, okay." I realize I am about a few seconds away from her going into a full-blown meltdown or her becoming so stubborn that I'd have to force feed her the drink. I grin at her and reach for a stray curl that had fallen out of her ponytail to twirl it in my fingers. "Please, just drink it." Gulping at what I saw flare up in Stella's eyes. She turns away. I hear her sigh and whisper, "Only because you said please."

At that, I smile in victory, even though my stomach was doing back handsprings and jumping jacks. The bell rings and we both stand up. I give her a hug. "You know I'm just worried about you, right?" I mumble into the top of her hair.

I will forever remember the day Stella passed out in class. How she had shown up at my house that night in tears because the doctors told her she has a rare condition called POTS (Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome). She forever must live with dangerously low blood pressure and the possibility of passing out whenever and wherever. If there is one thing, I am sure about, it is the fact that I will never get the image of Stella stumbling around the classroom before she collapsed, out of my head.

"Yes," She sighed, "I do know that. I'll see you when I get back."

I felt her slip something into the pocket of my jacket. Pulling away, I give her a questioning look. She just smiles reassurance up at me before she turns and disappears into the sea of students flooding the halls. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out an envelope that has "Grass fairy" written on the front. Sitting down on the red bench I had just gotten up from, I opened it to find a folded up handwritten letter. I open it and begin to read.

***

Jerking back to the present I vaguely hear my mom yelling from the top of the stairs for me to turn down the music before I wake up my little brother. With one hand I reach out and turn the music down as I also grab my glasses. With the shake of my head, I get out of bed and grab the first set of clean clothes I see.

I sit back down on my bed and stare at the old letter that has taken up the same very spot on my bedside table for a little over three years. Reaching out, I grab the old letter and place it into my jacket pocket. I rub my eyes and think about last night. I had spent hours listening to music trying to gain the guts just to send a single text. I pull out my phone and find the text I had decided on sending. My throat closes when I notice the text had been read. Without a response back.