Chapter 1

Looking out across the lake to the mountains, I watched the dark clouds rapidly rising over the Flatirons. My fingers drummed against the hardcover novel that lay unopened in my lap. As I turned my head to look at the clock, a limp-haired boy sitting at a nearby computer smiled and waved shyly. I quickly returned my attention out the window, ignoring the sinking feeling I always get when somebody flirts with me who A) I don't know and don't want to know (for instance really ugly and/or awkward kids a.k.a. boy at the computer), or B) is a semi-to-good friend who I would NEVER consider even remotely liking. Anyway, I was particularly agitated and irritated today, so the sinking feeling wasn't helping. You see, normally I don't mind English. Sure, it's the last period of the day, therefore I'm normally a little antsy, but Mr. Caroll is a great teacher, so no complaints on that end. But today, today of all days, when, if Mr. Caroll were here, he would have let us out early due to the weather, we have a substitute. As you can tell, I loathe substitutes. The instructions let for today's substitute were to take the class down to the library so that we might pick out new books to read, and so that we might have a quiet workday. Normally, I would be pretty alright with that, except for three things. One-my best friend Nora, who is normally my English buddy, went home early today due to the approaching snow storm. She lives a ways into the mountains, so her parents pulled her out early. Two-we have a substitute. Three-because we have a substitute, we are not, under any conditions, even if it greatly increases our risk for getting snow trapped at school, allowed to go home early.

Now you understand why I'm pissed. Dismally, I flip through the novel in my lap, trying to burn off the remaining ten minutes of the day. Once again my thoughts wander to the snow storm, which is now finally beginning to let go of some of its enormous burden of precipitation. I'm getting some weird looks as some freshmen walk by, no doubt owing to my very depressed look. I mean, shouldn't whoever's in charge up in the sky make a rule against snow before Halloween?? Hello, you can't Trick or Treat in three feet of snow?? BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. Sweet mother f***ing Mary, that bell never fails to startle me. I jump, first in surprise, then in hurry as I scoop up my things, deposit the novel on the shelf (it looked stupid, what can I say?) and speed for my locker. I have to slow down against my will a bit once I hit the hallway, though, due to the mass release of eager students all praying for a snow day tomorrow. I thankfully manage to keep a relatively decent pace as I dart, weave and squeeze through the mass of bleach blonde hair and wannabe gangsters, barely acknowledging a number of "Hi Maria"s. I'm not normally grouchy or antisocial in the least, but today, I'm a woman on a mission. Once at my locker, I spin in my combo. 24, 32, 08. I tug at the lock until with an unpleasant screech it releases. Swinging open my locker I grab what I need, including my black ski jacket, white knit hat, green scarf and matching gloves. They're all new, and I absolutely love them. I slam my locker shut, pull on my hat and coat, tie on my scarf, and just as I'm about to slip on my gloves my hat is rudely yanked off my head, causing my hair to fall into instant disarray.
"How dare you..." I begin as I swing around, ready to tackle whoever has my hat. I stop short. Standing directly in front of me is a tall, brown haired, buff, handsome, grinning devil with his hand raised high above his head.
"Jake Thompson, one of these days your shenanigans are going to get you in enough trouble that I am going to dump you. Now give me back my hat!".
I jump at his arm, trying to get my hat, but he merely turns a little and lifts his arm out to the side.
"You can't have it till you're nice to me" he says, pouting slightly. "I come all the way over to see you and talk to you and all I get is yelled at."
I sigh and step right up to him, and begin playing with his scarf. After a moment I look up, my face the epitome of sweetness, concern, and subtle sexiness. It drives him crazy when I make that face, cause I look slightly helpless, and oh so irresistible.
"I'm sorry Jake", I say, looking straight up into his eyes. I make my eyes slightly bigger, with a pleading edge to them. His eyes widen, and his free arm slips around my waist.
"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. You know I'm always happy to see you." I bat my eyelashes slightly, and though he opens his mouth to say something, all that comes out is an "uhhh". Before he has a chance to say anything more I wrap my arms around his neck, stand a little on my tiptoes, and kiss him. It only takes him a second or two to break out of his shock and return the kiss, wrapping both of his arms around me and totally forgetting about my hat. When he finally pulls away, there's a slight flush in his cheeks and a smoldering fire in his eyes. I know my cheeks must be slightly flushed too, as I feel heat crawling up. Luckily no one around us was paying any attention. Jake leans in close to me, and when he speaks his voice is husky.