Caught in the Crossfire

Chapter 1

The darkness takes over as memories of Lucas and Logan race around my head in a continuous circle, around and around, never slowing, only getting faster and faster...

My hands clutch the sheets, balling them in my fists as the onslaught of memories and thoughts and emotions attack my brain in a sick drumming rhythm. I screw up my eyes, pushing back the assault on my mind.

It seems to last for hours, my head pounding and my breathing short and shallow...

Finally my breathing starts to smooth out and my heart thuds to a slower and less life-threatening beat. I take in a few lungful of air and pry open my eyes to stare at my bedroom ceiling. I slowly release my grip on the pale blue sheets, and flex my stiff fingers. I roll over onto my side and curl up into a ball, knees to my forehead, not wanting to suffer another ambush of memories...

"And here I was, thinking that this was gonna get easier..." I thought to my self as I rolled back over to look at my docking station where my iPod was propped. 4:00 p.m. I had laid down on my bed for a cat-nap after a tough day at school only 5 minutes ago, and now I was too tense to even think about sleep.

"Screw it," I mutter to myself as I roll off the bed, landing lightly on the soft cream carpet. I pad over to my white dresser and stand in front of the mirror mounted above it. I run my fingers through my wavy blonde hair, almost yellow in color. Did my friends ever fail to point this out? Never. I push my bangs out of my eyes and puff my cheeks, letting the air out in a whoosh. I open a drawer and exchange the v-neck sweater I had wore to school for a thin light blue t-shirt.

As I turn towards my iPod, ready to start my homework ritual, my cell phone chimes, telling me that I have a text waiting to be read. I pick it up from the bed and see that it's from none other than Claire Evons, my best friend in the whole entire world. I smile to myself when I see she's planned one of her famous "study parties" for tomorrow night, which always ends up being some sort of party, but studying is never mentioned or even thought about after the first 5 minutes.

"Her parents must be gone... again," I think as I reply a big YES! to her text.

As bad as my parents are about ignoring their kids, Claire's maybe even worse. While mine were at least somewhere in the house most of the time, her parents always left on a whim, never letting Claire know they were leaving until she came home to an empty house. I felt bad for her, I really did, but it was better in my opinion to have parents that weren't there in person, than to have ones who could be acknowledging my presence, but just chose not to.

I turn the iPod onto my homework playlist, and Coldplay leaks out of the speakers, filling the room with soft percussion, guitar riffs, and Chris Martin's amazing voice, which never fails to cure a sad spirit. I crank up the volume all the way and start on the load of homework shoved down our throats today.

Halfway through the Geometry packet Mrs. Brownstein assigned us, and after I finished my literature assignment on the poem of the week, my phone buzzes again. The screen says it's from Drake and my heart seizes up as a gargantuan smile adorns my lips. Math forgotten, I read the message, giggling girlishly.

'Hello, my love, what are you up to?'

'Battling with that crap load of math homework Mrs. B gave us. But of course, your not having any problems with it, are you? :)'

I'm pretty good in all of my subjects, maintaining a steady A average, but I still struggle sometimes. As for Drake, a true brain, everything seems to come 2nd nature to him, like he's known this stuff for years... and it's not like he looks like a geek, with his tousled brownish-blonde hair, light grey eyes, and track runner physique... Oh man, how did I get so lucky?!

My cell chimes again.

'Oh, I finished that... half an hour ago. Do you need me to come over and help you? We can make a date out of it...'

He knows how much I hate being helped. I had to learn how to fend for myself after... my brothers... were...

My parents of course were too busy "grieving" to pay attention to me and my needs... Grieving, my ass. They didn't know their own sons well enough for grief like the heartache I was feeling.

'I'll muddle through, thanks for offering, /she types sarcastically/ but I'll take you up on that date.'

Then sun starts to set in my window and i turn to admire the splashes of orange and pink coating the horizon. After another couple pages of triangles and equations I get a reply.

'Then I guess I will be accompanying you to Claire's party tomorrow night. I will be there to pick you up at 7. Sleep tight love :)' he ended.

As I sent a quick and sweet goodnight back, I thought, "I don't know why he feels the need to type words like 'accompanying' and call me his love, but I sure as hell don't mind it.

I then turned back to tackle the monster known as trigonometry again.