Disclaimer: All recognizable things are not my property. Everything other than that, however, certainly is.
PROLOGUE
Eight years ago
"It's your turn," he reminded her.
She nodded, but didn't answer immediately.
He raised an eyebrow and grinned.
She shot at him, "Geez, give me a break. I'm just trying to think of something really good."
"Be my guest. Did I say anything? I didn't think so."
"Yeah, whatever," she said. "Okay, so I told you that my parents shipped me off to France for extra education at one point, right? Well, I got appendicitis just several months after. I called my mom, because then, I didn't know what it was. I told her that I was sick."
"Go on."
She hated it when he mocked her like that. Yes, he was two years older than her, and yes, he was much taller in height. But intellectually, he wasn't specifically more educated than her. It was strange, because all the other guys in her class didn't bother her as much. In fact, she barely minded them. This guy, however, always aggravated her. He always had, since the moment she crashed into him at a church service and the time he beat her in a chess game in front of all her friends. Before that, she had never lost a chess game. But she would let him be this time; it would make her victory that much more worth it in the end.
So she continued steadfastly, "But instead of asking if I was okay, she ordered me to say that in French. She told me that she didn't spend all her money to send me to France, only to have me speak English. So when I told her I was sick in French – that was when she finally did something."
She didn't feel as bad as she thought she would be as she said it, because she suddenly realized that she could tell him anything and wouldn't feel embarrassed.
"That's terrible." He grinned. "But nothing compared to the time when I came in second at a local track race. My dad called me a mistake in front of the whole audience. I was nine."
"That's terrible." She grinned. "I got a B one time on a test – oh, don't act surprised. Anyway, my dad, like you, freaked out because he never thought that such thing was possible. He locked me away in my room for the entire weekend, 'grounding me.' He truly knows the meaning."
"That's nothing, sweetheart. I played a note wrong at one of my piano concours. It was eleven at night when my parents and I returned from our celebratory party. They locked me away until I played better than the night's performance itself. You should see how violently my father flips out."
"You should see my dad flip out. When I got that B, he thought it was the end of the world."
"My mother insists that my birthday's on Christmas. But really, she only says that because she doesn't know the real date." He paused. "And because she can 'merge' my birthday party with the massive Christmas celebration our family throws annually."
"That reminds me of something. I never once got a Christmas present. My mom told me that I was that naughty kid people sang about in Christmas carols."
"Oh, cry me a river."
"But my dad had to go on and say that Santa Claus didn't even exist."
"Is that the best you got?"
"I was five!"
"Hey, I was much younger when my dad told me that."
"Was it on Christmas morning?"
"Of course it was – wait a second." In the moment of silence, understanding dawned on him. He doubled over. "Wow."
She snorted, playing with her jeans' seams. "I know."
Eventually, the laughter died out. They sat silently, immersed in their childhood memories.
"There was one time when I was in junior high," he murmured suddenly, wringing his hands together. She watched him carefully, unsure what memory had changed his mood so swiftly. "The tabloids were covered with the breaking news of my relation to the Cullen family."
He looked at her as if he was waiting for some kind of response, but she simply sat still. This was a sensitive subject, and she didn't want to expose herself, only to end up being misunderstood. She didn't want him to think that she was critical of this.
"How old were you when my dad and I were on national TV for that? Did you watch it? Well, he oh so naturally claimed that I was adopted. That cleared up all the suspicions… Maybe things never change. Even then, he was all about power and reputation. Well, like father, like son, I guess – I'm all about reputations too."
She kicked him a little, but her heart wasn't really in it. She understood him – more than he could ever know. She also had the feeling that he felt the same way about her.
But it had been quite some time since she realized that they didn't really know each other. They referred to each other as friends, but how could they call themselves that when they always avoided learning about each other? He was impenetrable, and she was defensive whenever he got too close – like he was the irresistible tide and she was the little girl who was trying not to get her feet wet. She was scared to get wet, but couldn't help but take the risk and play with it anyway. But one of these days, the tide might just finally swallow her… And so that fear led to her next fear: By then, would he let her in too?
"So," he said, recapturing her attention. He looked and sounded happy enough, but she wasn't so sure. "You still think your parents are worse than mine?"
"Oh, definitely." She looked at him from under her lashes and smirked. "You?"
"Naturally." He rubbed his face, sighing harshly. "But I'm not saying yours are any better. I understand you."
"I know. It's too bad we don't get to choose our families, right?"
His eyes softened. "But you know what they say – friends are the family that we choose for ourselves. At least God gave us that."
This time, she met his eyes all the way, and smiled. "Then I guess it's obvious now – that I've chosen you a long, long time ago."
"Excellent." He grinned. "Because I think I've chosen you too."
I already have Chapter One written and ready. I hope you guys liked this!