Author's Note:

No, I've never read Heroes of Olympus.

Yes, it's just a coincidence.

Chapter 03 | Did You Just Quote Yoda?

"You know you can't go on living every day in the past." ― Pretty in Pink 

"Mommy!" I loudly exclaim early Monday morning as I bounce down the stairs and into the kitchen, where my mom is making breakfast.

"No, Sawyer," My mother retorts automatically, not even bothering to return my morning greeting.

"No, Sawyer, what?" I query with a confused look, leaning against the kitchen island and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl.

"You never call me 'mommy' unless you want something and usually what you want is something ridiculous. So, I'm just going to save you some time and breath and go ahead and say no," She replies casually.

"What are you talking about? That's not true at all," I scoff, rolling my eyes at her accusation, even though it does kind of ring true. I actually don't ever call her 'mommy' because it just sounds a little bit weird to me. I guess I do kinda have a habit of letting it slip when I ask for stuff.

"The last time you called me 'mommy', you asked me for $90 to adopt a kitten from the Humane Society," She reminds me.

"Your point being? What part of that's ridiculous?" I ask with my eyebrows raised suspiciously.

"Your brother is allergic to cats," My mother recaps me with a chuckle.

"Oh, right," I reply, running my fingers through my unruly hair with a shrug. "Well, he's also twenty-one years old and shouldn't still be living at home anyways," I refute. "That's not important though—this time it actually isn't ridiculous at all; I have a very sensible request," I tells her.

"I really doubt that but lay it on me," She urges, turning the stove off and grabbing plates from the cabinet, which I guess means she's done.

"It's about Dr. Fontana," I say with a small sigh.

"What? What about him? Is everything going alright with your sessions?" My mom asks, looking away from the steaming hot breakfast on the stove and over at me with a panicked expression on her face. I sometimes honestly don't think that my mother is indeed my mother. I think she's really Aspen's mom and maybe Aspen's mom is actually mine. I mean, I don't have any legit reason to believe that our parents switched us in our infancy or anything like that but I just think that Aspen and my mother are a lot more alike than my mother and I are. I say this only because they're both incredibly dramatic and they both basically never stop worrying about me now, ever since Flynn and the hospital and my therapy and everything else.

"Yeah, no, everything is totally fine," I inform her. "It's just that I was hoping that you could maybe talk to him," I add, hoping to persuade her.

"Yeah? Talk to him about what?" She asks, walking over to the kitchen table and setting a plate down on one of the placemats before crossing our spacious kitchen and coming back over to the stove, fixing another plate.

"Well, I was just thinking that you could shorten my sessions with him," I admit sheepishly, gauging her reaction, which is bleak.

"Absolutely not, Sawyer," My mom answers, preparing another plate and then taking it over to the kitchen table, setting it on a placemat.

"Mom, I just don't think that it's necessary for me to see him every single day," I respond with a heavy sigh, taking a bite from my banana.

"Well, I know that it's necessary—I can see the progress you've made over the past year that you've been seeing him," She tells me then.

"Exactly," I pipe, trying to reason with her, which is difficult because she's very stubborn, my mother is. "And because I've made so much progress over the course of the year, I think that it's a good idea for me to only see him maybe once a week. Or maybe once every other week or so. I never really have anything to tell him and then it's just an hour of awkwardness while he tries to force me to 'get in touch with my pain' or whatever he calls it," I explain to her.

"Sawyer," She sighs, taking two more plates over to the kitchen table and sitting down in one of the chairs behind one of them. "I know you're not too happy having to sacrifice your time to go and talk to your doctor but it really is what you need. Besides, it's not every single day—you don't have to go and see him on the weekends," My mother tells me in a soft and calm voice.

My mom used to be a social worker and her field in that mostly included neglected and/or abused kids, so she kind of always has to be cool, calm and collected. She really is an amazing person, my mother is, and I love her to death but sometimes she is just so incredibly unreasonable (and by sometimes I actually mean all the time). I know that she only wants what's best for me though, which is why I usually don't throw big hissy fits about these kinds of things.

"Yeah but it may as well be every day," I grumble, finishing off my banana and grumpily crossing my arms across my chest.

"If you want that, I can talk to him and I'm sure he won't mind it," My mother offers.

"Yeah, I'm sure he won't, considering the fact that that's five hundred more dollars to his paycheck," I tell her, doing the mental math.

"What's going on? Do you suddenly not like Dr. Fontana anymore? He's the best in the state, Sawyer, you know that," She informs me.

"I know that he's the best in the state and I like him but I just think you're wasting your money making me go five days a week," I explain.

"We're doing just fine in the financial department, Sawyer," My mom assures me. "Anyway, it's already 8:00, so come eat and be quick about it since for some odd reason, you're still not even dressed," She says, gesturing for me to come and sit down at the table, which I do with a sigh, realizing that she just totally and completely ignored my entire request to have my therapy sessions shortened.

I guess I can understand why she's so hesitant about shortening them though—I was really, really bad last fall and I desperately needed to see Dr. Fontana every day just to keep from losing my mind. Now though, I'm much, much better. I won't say that I don't need therapy at all because I know that I do and I know that I will for a while but it doesn't need to be an everyday thing. Especially since I'm on my antidepressant medicine now. I think it's actually like, Prozac or something, because it makes me feel really amazing. Either way, I don't need to see Dr. Fontana every day for five days because I usually have nothing to report and I'm honestly considering just not going today.

"Why are there four plates here?" I wonder, looking around the table and seeing that there are four places set, instead of three, like normal.

"Because Brett's still here," She says to me, picking her iPhone up and tapping away, I assume texting Beckett to tell him breakfast is ready.

"Why?" I question, unintentionally crinkling my nose in distaste and picking my fork up, stabbing away at my eggs.

"Why what, dear?" My mom queries just as Beckett and Brett basically run into the kitchen, both of them dressed in only their boxers.

I don't really mind it from my brother, I guess, because he never really has a shirt on because he's just weird like that but it's kind of extremely awkward to see Brett without a shirt on. Mostly because I just met the guy for the first time on Friday and also because he's been here since Friday. He playfully winks (at least, I think it was meant to be playful) at me before sitting down in one of the chair and I thank every God in the sky that my brother made it to the chair across from me before Brett could. The kind of table we have is one of those normal square glass ones perfectly suited for four people, with one on each side. Beckett is sitting across from me and Brett is sitting across from my mother. It's kind of weird because no one ever sits in that seat, the one that Brett's in, now that my dad is incarcerated.

"Hi family," Beckett greets before grabbing the thing of syrup and drowning his pancakes in them, which makes my mom rolls her eyes.

"What were you saying, honey?" She asks, looking back at me.

"Uh, nothing," I deny, shaking my head and deciding that I'll just bring it up later.

I would continue to argue my point about my therapy but I don't really want Brett to know that I have to see a psychiatrist and I especially don't want him to know that I have to see a psychiatrist every day (excluding weekends, as my mother keeps mentioning). I know that most of the people who have to see therapists actually aren't crazy—they're just a little bit messed up, though aren't we all?—but that's the stereotype and I don't want him thinking that I'm crazy. Not that I care what he thinks of me but still. Some things are just better left private. 

I eat my breakfast pretty quickly and I'm the first one done. I stand up from my chair and put my plate and fork in the dishwasher before exiting the room and heading up to my room. My school starts at 8:45, like most schools, and it's already almost 8:20, which means I have to be really speedy. The school's only like, five minutes from my house though, so that's a bonus, I guess.

I am definitely not the type of girl who gets all dressed and dolled up for school, which makes getting ready in a hurry totally acceptable. Also, because I oversleep basically every single morning, I take my showers at nighttime. In my bedroom, I close and lock the door behind me before going over to my closet and pulling a random pair of dark wash skinny jeans, a plain white V-neck t-shirt and a black sweater that reads across the front in uppercase white letters "Eat a lot. Sleep a lot." I quickly get dressed in the clothes and then make my way to the bathroom, where I brush my teeth and wash my face before brushing the tangles out of my hair and doing it up in a quick messy bun.

Back in my room, I grab my backpack, car keys and iPhone before leaving the room and turning the light off on the way downstairs. I bid Brett, my mother and Beckett goodbye before walking out of the front door and down the driveway to where my car is. It was a sixteenth birthday present, my car was, which means that I only got it a year ago, so it's still relatively new. Unlocking the doors, I toss my backpack into the passenger seat and pull my seatbelt on, starting the car up and backing out of the driveway, speeding down the residential road.

As I reach the end of the neighborhood road, I merge onto the main road and glance down at the glowering green numbers on my dashboard, reading 8:35, which means I've got just ten minutes until I'm supposed to be in my first block class, which is Art. The teacher is pretty chill though, so I don't think that she'll mind me being a few minutes or so late. Like I said, I oversleep a lot (mostly just because I stay up to ungodly hours of the morning watching Netflix) so I usually am late to school or running incredibly late.

At exactly 8:40, I pull into the school parking lot (it's a rather small school, I guess you could say, so the senior, juniors and staff all park together here in this one little parking lot, which is absolutely bizarre to me). Usually, I'll meet up with Aspen, Piper and Sienna once I get to school and we'll go into the building today, but seeing as how I'm running even later than usual, I just park my car, grab my backpack and basically run across the parking lot, up towards the school building.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

"So, where is he?" Aspen chirpily asks Sienna a couple of hours later as the two of them, along with Piper and myself walk down the crowded school corridor together, heading to the cafeteria for lunch. I was only about two minutes or so late getting into Art class. Sienna's in that class with me and apparently the teacher—Mr. Eubanks—was in a really bad mood today, so she covered for me and told him that on my way to school, I got a flat tire or something like that and I was waiting for a tow truck to come and pick me up. I guess he believed her because when I walked into class late, he didn't reprimand me or anything.

"Where's who?" Sienna queries, glancing over at Aspen and giving her a confused look.

"Your gorgeous friend, that's who," Aspen pipes cheerily in a 'duh' tone as if who she's talking about is should be completely obvious.

"Oh, you mean Graham?" Sienna asks, clearly still confused about the sudden upbringing of the topic.

Sienna is one of my three best friends in the entire world and I love her like a sister, I really do, but she's just not the sharpest tack in the box. She's as sweet as cherry pie (I've never had cherry pie but cherries are pretty sweet, I guess, so the analogy isn't totally senseless) but she just isn't very smart at all, Sienna isn't. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that she's dumb or anything because she definitely isn't, she just has a bit of a harder time processing things in her mind, I think. I'm not a scientist or a doctor or anything like that but I'm guessing that the amount of weed she used to smoke and the amount of drugs she used to do to blame for that.

Sienna and I have been friends since we were ten years old and in like, the fifth grade or something like that. Unfortunately for her though, she has assholes for parents and a stoner for a brother. Sienna's parents work for some really powerful company that's based here in Andover and they're business partners, meaning they have to travel out of the country a lot together for business trips. That meant that they hardly were (and hardly are) ever at home.

That being said, whenever Sienna was younger, she was always left in the care of her brother, the stoner, Tommy. She told me that it all started one day when were thirteen, when her brother was babysitting her and had all of his stoner friends over at the house and they were smoking some pot. Apparently they let Sienna in on it and I don't know why she didn't turn it down but she didn't. I know you can't actually get addicted to marijuana but Sienna was about as attached to it as a person can possibly be. Not only was she smoking weed though, she was doing the hard drugs too, with her brother and his idiotic friends. I don't know what all she's tried because she hates talking about it but I do know that for quite some time, she was devastatingly addicted to cocaine. She literally couldn't go more than two hours at a time without it. That was about three years ago, when she first got hooked on it.

It took her accidently overdosing on cocaine and nearly dying for her to stop and think "okay, this is bad and I need to stop and get some help" and after she was released from a lengthy hospital visit, she found a really amazing rehabilitation center in Switzerland and went there. Sienna was fourteen when she left and she stayed there for about a year and a half and came back this year, right before the summer.

She's completely clean now though, which is really amazing. Still though, after injecting yourself with, snorting and smoking so many different drugs for three years, you kind of mentally scar yourself and that's what Sienna did. Now she just has really delayed reactions and has to think about stuff longer than most people do, which is really annoying sometimes but when I remember the fact that we almost lost her, I don't mind it too much. So, no, she isn't stupid at all (she's actually pretty book smart) her brain just doesn't work as fast as mine and yours.

"That would be your gorgeous friend, yes," Aspen laughs in confirmation. "Is he already here?" She wonders.

"Yeah, he's been here since this morning," Sienna verifies with a nod, pulling her iPhone from her pocket. "I'm not sure where he is though."

"Well, you have to find him because he has to eat lunch with us today—it's absolutely mandatory," Aspen informs Sienna matter-of-factly.

"What, are you gonna try to hook up with him or something?" Piper asks Aspen as we continue our way down the cramped school hallway.

"No! Try not! Do or do not, there is no try," Aspen replies in a completely serious tone, earning a giggle and an eye roll from me.

"Did you just quote Yoda?" I question, even though I know for a fact she did.

I was never a really big fan of it but my brother is a total Star Wars geek. Whenever we were kids and before my dad went to jail and everything, we used to have these really lame family movie nights every Friday night and every single time that it was Beckett's turn to choose a movie for us to watch, do you know what he chose? Star Wars. Because he is an oh-so-geeky Star Wars geek. That was years ago but I'm pretty sure if I brought it up when I get home this afternoon, he'd probably be giddy enough to have a heart attack.

Some kind of way though, girls are still crazy about him. At least, that's what I've heard—that he's a big playboy at his university. He's in this super stupid fraternity though, Beckett is, and apparently the frat house is the craziest one on campus. The one where virginities are taken, hearts are broken and insane parties take place. It's pretty disturbing actually and I think that's what I'm most afraid of about college. After all, Flynn was in that fraternity and in case you hadn't figured it out yet, that guy is the worst kind of guy.

"Yes, yes I did," Aspen laughs as the four of enter the cafeteria and head to the lunch line, which is moving pretty expeditiously today.

"If it isn't my three favorite girls in the whole world," A male voice from behind us suddenly announces, making all four of us turn around.

"Jason!" Piper squeals happily, literally jumping into her boyfriend's arms as he throws his arms around her and hugs her tight.

"There's four of us here, you know, Jason," Aspen informs him after he puts Piper down a few seconds later, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, I can count, Aspen, thanks—I just don't like you," Jason reminds her with an irritated sigh, sending her an icy cold glare.

"Jackass," She retorts, rolling her eyes and turning back around so that her back is to him as we move forward in the line.

"Bitch," He replies and Piper slaps his arm gently, which is what she does every time Jason and Aspen get to arguing, which is frequently.

"What're you even doing here?" Pipe asks him happily with a huge grin on her face, looking up at her boyfriend.

"My mom's out of town on business, so I get to stay with my dad for a few weeks, which means I get to come to school here," He explains.

"Super," Aspen sarcastically remarks with her back still turned away from him and her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance.

Jason and Piper (or as I like to call them, Pipson—Jasper too, but I like Pipson more) have been dating for roughly a year and a half, I believe. They started dating in the summer before our sophomore year and they're still together now, halfway through our junior year. He used to go to school here, Jason did, with us up until this year. His parents divorced at the very beginning of the school year and Piper said that his mother got sole custody of him because his dad was found out to be a drunk and obviously unfit to take care of a teenager. So, he and his mom moved to Tewksbury, which is a town about fifteen minutes or so from Andover, which is nice because the two of them can still see each other a lot, even though Jason had to transfer to the high school in Tewksbury. In case you can't tell (which I'm sure you can) Aspen and Jason hate each other more than I hate Flynn Decker and I hate Flynn Decker a lot.

"Do you wanna go out for lunch? We can go to McDonalds or something, if you want," Jason says to his girlfriend, ignoring Aspen's remark.

"If you guys don't mind?" Piper says, phrasing it like a question, turning to look for verification from Sienna, Aspen and myself.

"No, go be your boyfriend, we'll see you later," I assure her with a chuckle, shooing the two adorable lovebirds away.

"He sickens me," Aspen informs us as Jason and Piper walk away together, hand-in-hand and being all lovely and adorable.

"You are a terrible person," Sienna teasingly tells Aspen, jokingly rolling her eyes at her.

"I am not a terrible person and you're supposed to be finding your beautiful friend," Aspen reminds Sienna as the three of us pay for our lunch and make our way to our normal circular table in the cafeteria.

My school is basically the definition of clichéd. Literally, the cafeteria looks exactly like the scene out of High School Musical where everyone is at lunch sitting with their people. The band geeks all sit together, the nerds all sit together, the emo people sit together, and even the loners sit together. It's seriously a scary kind of thing. I mean, Sienna, Aspen and I aren't the exact same type of people, so I guess the three of us kind of break the status quo (as do a few others) but the good thing about my school is that there is no Sharpay Evans trying to keep us all segregated to certain groups of people based on what kind of person they're classified as.

"Oh right," Sienna chirps, glancing down at her phone again, her fingers flying over the screen briefly before she raises the phone to her ear.

"So, how was homecoming?" I randomly ask Aspen as I tear open a packet of ketchup and spread it over my French fries.

"Oh my gosh, homecoming was amazing," Aspen squeals happily. "You really should have come though, Saw, you would've had fun!"

"I seriously doubt it," I reply, shaking my head in disagreement.

"Yeah, okay, Ebenezer," She sighs, referring to me by the first name of Scrooge—you know, the guy from the Charles Dickens book?

"You do realize that the analogy was so misplaced, don't you?" I laugh, giving her a pointed look. "It isn't even Christmastime yet," I add.

Aspen opens her mouth to reply but before she can, Sienna starts talking, "Aspen, promise me you won't freak out," She says suddenly.

Aspen glances over at her with her eyebrows raised, "What would I freak out about?"

"Graham said he's headed this way now," She informs us.

"So, how do you know him again?" Aspen wonders, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

"Family friend...kinda, I guess," Sienna explains.

"What does that mean?" I query, not because I'm curious about how she knows Graham Cambridge but because she kind of hesitated.

"It means that he's not exactly a family friend but that's the best way I know how to explain it," Sienna chirps, taking a bite from her apple.

"Oh my gosh, how do I look?" Aspen demands all of a sudden, pulling a hairbrush from her purse and pulling it through her long locks.

"You look just fine, Aspen," I assure my ridiculously over-excited friend, rolling my eyes and eating one of my French fries.

"How are you not dying of excitement right now?" Aspen queries, putting her brush up before pulling a small box of mints out.

"Why would I be dying of excitement?" I ask her, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket but electing to ignore it for now.

"This is freaking Graham Cambridge we're talking about," She shrills with a huge grin on her face.

"Yeah but he's not some huge celebrity—he's just a boy," Sienna tells Aspen, voicing my thoughts perfectly.

"No, he is a celebrity," Aspen assures us, shaking her head. "Maybe not a Hollywood celebrity, but he's definitely an Andover celebrity."

"You're so stupid," I teasingly tell my best friend, rolling my eyes at her again because she's just so insane.

The craziest thing about it is that she still cries herself to sleep almost every night, thinking about Elliot. Like I told my brother though, Aspen's not looking for a boyfriend or anything; she won't be ready for that for a really long time but she has no probably doing one night stands. In fact, she goes out looking for them. I guess she thinks it'll fill the void that Elliot left in her heart, which is a reasonable though, I guess but she really should know by now that it won't. I'm almost scared for her, scared that she'll get some kind of STD or even worse, get pregnant, but she literally drags Piper, Sienna and myself to the health clinic with her like, once every other month or so and she makes us come into the room with her so that she can prove that she's totally clean. She's really weird but she's also my best friend and I wouldn't trade her for all the money in the world.

"I agree one hundred percent," Sienna interjects, causing Aspen to teasingly flip us both off.

"Yet you both love me so very much still," Aspen chimes in a sing-song voice.

"Maybe we love you a smidge," I respond, holding my fingers up and squeezing them together.

"Oh hush," Aspen demands, swatting my hand away. "Oh! There he is!" She exclaims, looking off behind me.

"Hey Graham," Sienna calls, standing up from the table and attempting to get his attention. Since my back is to where he apparently is, I obviously don't see him. I'm assuming he's even more gorgeous in person than in the numerous Instagram pictures that Aspen showed me.

I know when he reaches the table, because Aspen downsizes her freakishly friendly smile and tosses her hair over her shoulder while I continue to stuff my face with French fries. "Aspen, Sawyer, this is my friend, Graham and Graham, these are two of my three best friends, Sawyer and Aspen," Sienna introduces us casually and then sits back down, Graham sitting down as well, in the seat Piper usually take.

"Hi Graham," Aspen greets with a grin, standing up and reaching over the table, grabbing Graham's hand in hers. "I'm Aspen," She says.

"Right, yeah, you were pretty popular over at Volcom," He replies, shaking her hand politely and then letting it go.

Volcom Preparatory Academy is the super prestigious, super expensive, super private, school that the richest kids in Andover go to. I mean, I guess there's a lot of wealthy people here at Jamestown High but a lot of the parents in Andover think that they're children are too good for public school, so they pay a crap load of money and send them to Volcom, where basically half the staff is having sex with the students and the grade inflation is through the roof. Beckett spent a year there—he said it was the best year of his life.

I feel Graham looking at me and I can also see him looking at me in my peripheral vision but I don't say anything because, as I'm sure you've noticed, I cannot be around guys I don't know. I can barely be around guys I do know. If Jason wasn't the sweetest boy alive, I'd probably freak out and have a panic every time he came around. He is pretty sweet though and he's never been anything but nice to me, so I don't have any real reason to fear him, I know that.

This Graham, on the other hand, well I don't know. I've heard things about him and I know gossip isn't a reliable news source but still. I've heard that he's just a rich and selfish jerk who breaks girls' hearts for fun. Then again though, he's really well-liked around town too, from what I hear. I've also heard other crazy sex escapade things about him and how he once took eighteen Volcom girls' virginity in less than 48 hours. I don't know how that happens, I didn't even think that that was physically possible. I mean, it's probably just a crude rumor or something but still. I'm not gonna lie, he is a really attractive guy, so I guess I could understand why girls would want to be with him.

"Does she not talk?" Graham asks Sienna, looking away from me.

"She talks," Sienna assures him with a nod. "She's just...shy," She adds.

"You're Beckett Jameson's little sister, aren't you?" He wonders, looking at me again.

I nod in confirmation and then grab my cheeseburger, taking a bit out of it just to have an excuse not to talk. That's basically how the entire lunch hour goes—Aspen flirting shamelessly with Graham and sending him a load of sexual innuendoes and double entendres that he no doubt catches but chooses not to acknowledge. He and Sienna also talk a little bit too. He tries to talk to me a few times but being the awkward, cry baby that I am, I didn't say anything in response. I'd just nod or shake my head and maybe force a little panicked smile.

When the lunch bell rings, signaling the end of the hour, I can tell that Graham thinks that I was just being rude by not talking to him. I can tell just by the way he looks at me. He doesn't concede to it though, which is appreciated, I guess. Immediately after the bell rings, Aspen bolts out of the cafeteria (not before flirtily grabbing Graham's hand and writing her cell phone number on it though—oh yeah, the girl is bold) because her class is all the way on the other side of the campus.

"What's your next class, Graham?" Sienna asks her friend as the three of us leave the lunch room together, she standing between us.

"Erm, it's..." Graham pauses, pulling his schedule from the pocket of his jeans. "AP Physics," He says, reading the print on the paper.

"With Schumacher?" Sienna queries and I pray to every God in the sky that he says no.

"Yep, I guess so," Graham confirms with a nod and I silently groan.

"Oh! That's Sawyer's next class—she can totally take you there," Sienna volunteers and I mentally slap her in the face.

"Um, no, she totally can't," I blurt without really meaning to and once it's out, I automatically regret it and slap my hands over my mouth.

"I thou—" Sienna starts but Graham raises his hand to stop her.

"No, it's cool, Sienna, I don't need help—this school is tiny, I'm sure I can find it," Graham tells her.

"Are you sure? I mean, I can probably get you a map from the office or something," She says.

"You worry as much now as you did when we were kids—I'll be fine," He reiterates before turning to walk down the hallway away from us.

"I don't think that went very well," I sheepishly say to Sienna, with a small sigh.

"I'll say," Sienna laughs, running her fingers through her brunette hair. "I really didn't mean to put you on the spot like that though." She says.

"It's okay," I sigh, shaking my head just as the bell rings, which is the one that means there's five minutes until the tardy bell. "Should I tell him that he's going the wrong way?" I wonder, gesturing with my head over my shoulder in the direction that Graham walked off in just now.

"It'd be nice," Sienna chuckles. "He's a really nice guy, Sawyer, I promise," She declares to me in a serious tone.

"Did you guys ever like, get together?" I ask her curiously, noticing how close they seemed to be when we were at lunch just now.

"Graham and me?" She asks, raising her eyebrows and when I nod, she immediately shakes her head. "God no, he's like my brother."

"Aspen will be glad to hear that," I laugh, pulling my iPhone out of my pocket when I feel it vibrate again and see a text from my brother asking me to pick up some milk on my way home. I don't know why he'd ask me instead of mom but I reply with a confirmation, reminding him that I have to go and see Dr. Fontana though, so I won't be home until around 5:15-ish. I decided at lunch that I should just go to the stupid session after school because I know Dr. Fontana's gonna tell my mom and then she'll be mad at me and I just don't really want that.

"I'm sure she will," Sienna responds. "Seriously though, he's not gonna bite you or something if you go and talk to him," She informs me.

"You're very persistent," I note but put my phone back down into my pocket. "I'll see you later though," I respond, turning on my heel, walking down the hallway, looking for Graham's tall frame.

If I didn't see him walking the wrong way, I wouldn't be doing this. I'm trying to be a nice person though and deliberately letting him go the wrong way is quite the opposite of nice, isn't it? It takes a few minutes, but I finally catch up with him and when I do, he's staring at his schedule, looking all confused. I realize then that I'm probably going to be late now and I'll probably get in trouble by the teacher but I guess if I'm doing a good deed, it's worth it, right?

"Erm, Graham?" I awkwardly say, standing a good seven or so feet away from him.

"Yeah?" He replies, looking up from his schedule with a confused look on his face.

"Uh, Physics is this way," I inform him, pointing the opposite way down the hall.

"Wow, I think that's the most I've heard you talk since I met you," Graham teasingly tells me, putting his schedule back in his pocket.

"You only met me a few minutes ago," I quietly murmur.

"Right, well, thanks for the directions, Sawyer," He says with a grateful smile.

"Sure," I respond quietly before going into the nearest girls' bathroom as he takes off.

I don't actually have to use the bathroom, I just didn't want him to expect me to walk to the classroom with him because that would definitely just be way too much for me and I couldn't handle that at all. As baby-ish as that sounds, it's the true. The second I set foot in the bathroom, the tardy bell sounds and I swear under my breath, realizing that even if I leave now, I'll be about nearly 10 minutes late because the class is on the other side of the building and the building is pretty wide. I let out a shaky breath and make a mental note to inform Dr. Fontana that I talked a guy today without crying or panicking, which means I'm two for two with Brett and Graham. Not that I want to talk to either of them on a regular basis though, I literally can't handle that kind of pressure.

Author's Note: So, I was supposed to post this last night but I went to the movies yesterday and my wi-fi was being stupid and shaky when I got home. It's working pretty well now though, which is why I'm posting this now.

First and foremost, thank y'all so much for all the lovely comments on the last chapter and all the votes! I love you all bunches and don't forget to comment and vote on this chapter, please because it's super duper appreciated! <3

I'm posting the character profiles for this story and I just posted Graham's a few minutes ago, so if you wanna check it out, that'd be cool. My Tumblr is the-magics-not-here-no-more.tumblr.com and I'll post the link in the external link. In case you care, my main Tumblr is walking-in-the-city-lights.tumblr.com, so feel free to follow either or both of those and I think I'm gonna follow some of them back, probably.

Again, please, please, PLEASE don't forget to comment, comment, comment and vote! The photo is Matthew Daddario, who plays Graham Cambridge and notice the song as well! Thoughts on Graham? Sienna? Piper? Jason? Beckett? Brett? Sawyer? Sawyer and Beckett's mom? Thoughts on this chapter? Predictions for the next?

And I won't see you lovely people again until the New Year, so happy New Year! ♡