The drive to the school was silent.  

I was also 46 minutes late.  Now 47.

Our drama this morning was flying above our heads, looming in each nook and cranny of our minds.  

Floating.

Creeping.

I still shivered when I remembered Peter's outburst.  Sure, I understood that he had a past, just like me, but now, I knew that I had to be careful around him.

He was broken like me.  Shattered.  He just hid behind a wall, like I did.

Peter muttered a good-bye to me, before driving off to his college.  

It's amazing how one day can be a horrible for one, but normal to the other.  Scholars were still walking around, talking to their friends, like on a normal school day.  No one would ever guess that Peter had just shouted at me, like he had never done before.  

You might think- He just shouted at you!  Big deal.

Not for me.  

My walls have been torn down with a sledgehammer.  I'm vulnerable.  So vulnerable I can admit that I'm this close to falling down.  On the outside, I look fine.  Clothed, clean, and maybe a little pretty. 

On the inside, I'm drenched in mud, shattered and ugly.  

Nothing in my life has mattered more than it does now.  Because I'm at the stage where I don't know what to do next.  I'm lost.

But no one can see that.  

Except for maybe Peter.  The thing is, he's lost too.

How can a lost person help another?

I walked into the school, holding the straps of my backpack.  I kept my head down, counting down the seconds till I reached my locker.  

Instead, I walked into a human being.

A boy actually.

Trevor reminder alert.

I expected the "WHAT THE HELL?" shout from the guy.

"Oh- hello!"  the guy said.

I looked up to see a tall guy, with brown hair and ice blue eyes.  A baseball cap was covering his head, a jacket slung across his shoulders.

Hot.

"I'm sorry for slamming into you," I said.

The guy looked surprised.  "I'm sorry for being in the way."

I smiled a little. 

"I'm Joey."  he introduced.

"Ch- Lottie," I remembered.

"Which homeroom teacher do you have?"  he asked.

"Mr. Brallier."  I said, cocking my head.

"Dang, I have Mrs. Jacobs.  Well, see you around!"  he said, waving at me.

I didn't wave back, but I did smile at him.

Nice guy.

He reminded me of Peter.

Everything lately has been reminding me of stupid, stupid Peter.  Every single incident, event, person. 

It's stopping me from living my life.

Is that good or bad?  Am I really that obsessed over him?

Have I let it gone too far?

School goes by in a whirlwind, maybe because I'm dreading the fact that Peter will pick me up.  I drudge through the school hallways, my backpack weighing me down.  I look for Peter's car, but find nothing.  He would never be late.  That's not him.  He's never late.

Usually.

I walk around the parking lot, hoping to find his familiar truck.

"CHARLOTTE!"  a familiar voice calls.  

My head whips back, finding a brunette boy leaning out of a car window.

It's Sam.

Sam. 

I run towards him, a smile evident on my face.

"Ooh, it's been too long.  Speaking of which, didn't you abandon us?"  Sam asks, making sure he sounds like he's joking.

There's a double meaning.  He really wants to know.

I don't answer. 

"Well, it's nice to see you again.  Peter asked me to pick you up, cause I was in town.  I'm on break right now.  You have break next week?"  Sam asked.

I nodded.

The car rumbled forward.

"Trouble in paradise?"  Sam asked.

Sam changed.  In a good way, at least.  His cuts and bruises had faded away, and he looked really good.  Happy.  Healed.  Julie had probably healed him.  His hair was shorter, his body less scrawny.

"How do you know?"  I muttered.

"Well, Peter's never been so monotonous.  I figured that if he wanted me to pick you up..."  Sam drained off.

"Just a little fight."  I mumbled. 

Sam shot a quick look at me.  "Peter really likes you.  He told me."

My eyes started to burn a little. 

"When you left us, he was depressed for weeks.  He never moved on.  It's like you were still with us.  He never stopped thinking about you.  We could all tell."  Sam continued.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Why?"  I asked softly.  "Why does he care about me?"

"Because," Sam replied.  "He really relates to you. He likes you, Charlotte."

The car jostled. 

"I know..."  I tried.  "It's just that, I feel like it's not working for us.  We have a really good day, and then bam!  The next day, it's a totally different mood."

Sam focused on his driving.  "I think it's maybe because you both have twisted pasts.  It's hard to navigate through the afterward part."

I started to laugh.  "When did you become a couple therapist?" 

Sam looked at me.  "I actually want to study in psychology."

We both started to laugh.

"You look good, Charlotte."  Sam said, after we had recovered from our unnecessary laugh fest.

I smiled.  

"You look healthier than before.  But I still can tell nothing in the inside has really changed."  Sam remarked.

My smile dropped.

Was it really that noticeable?

"Well, your teen crush on me has disappeared,"  Sam joked.

"You knew?"  I asked, my cheeks tingling.

"It was pretty obvious."  Sam laughed.

I covered my face with my hands.

Second-hand embarrassment with younger me.

"Don't worry,  I liked you a lot too,"  Sam smiled, pulling up to Peter's driveway.

It was my turn to laugh.

"Two star-crossed lovers,"  Sam sang out.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam hugged me.  "I'll see you soon,"  he told me.

"Yea, tell Julie I said hi," I whispered.

"Call me."  Sam said, pressing a note into my hand.

I stared into his eyes, the very ones that I thought I would never see again.

I think he knew that something had happened to me and Peter.  Something that didn't seem very serious, but actually was pretty deep in meaning.  And I could see the warning in his eyes. 

Sam didn't really know Peter.  But he knew that something was up.

But no one knew how messed up things would be in the near future.