>Chapter Three<

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A bird flew out of the smoke towards me. I ducked as it swooped down, reaching for me with its talons. When I looked back at it, there was no longer a bird, but a person. A male figure walked towards me. His features were indistinguishable through the soot and ash, but I knew he was tall and slender. I moved away, but the figure kept advancing. I lashed out, hoping to scare him off. However, a strong hand grabbed my wrist, holding tight. I saw tattoos decorating the skin of his arm and instantly knew who this must be. To confirm my fear, the smoke around the boy's face dissipated somewhat, revealing who it was.

I let out a small yelp, jumping up and clutching at my blanket. There was a cold sweat on my forehead, and the taste of smoke on my tongue as I gasped for air. My room house was quiet and dark, with no sign of life other than the frantic pounding of my heart and my labored breathing.

I fumbled out of bed, almost falling as my foot caught in my blanket. I moved to my desk, took out the first pencil I had and flipped to the first clean page I found in one of my numerous sketchpads, and turned on the lamp on the table. I shielded my eyes for a moment as the lightbulb flared to life, illuminating the space.

I put the pencil on the paper, drawing like mad. I wasn't sure what, but it was like I was possessed, my hand following someone else's orders. I drew the curve of a shoulder, the angles of a jawline, the swoop of an eyebrow, until I finished an hour later.

Looking down at my work, I realized that I had drawn the face seen in the nightmare. Pencil smudges showed the clearing smoke, and behind the smoke was an easily recognizable face.

Luke.

His eyes bore down, seeming to punch through the paper, his lips pressed into a straight line, teeth clenched, hand encircling another person's wrist.

My wrist.

Why had I drawn this? What did it mean? Was I warning myself that falling for Luke would only bring me heartbreak and pain? Or was it something else?

I stood and turned the light off, leaving my things lying on the clean, white desk. I glanced at my alarm clock, and seeing that it read 4:58 am, I crawled back into bed and shut my eyes, praying for some sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Kara!" my mom singsonged as she opened my door about an hour and a half later. "Time to wake up, sweetie!"

I lay there, motionless as I heard her walk in. She crossed the room and stopped at my desk. "What is this, Kar?" she asked curiously and I heard the rustle of her picking something up.

I immediately jumped up, rushing over to take the sketchbook from her. "It's nothing!" I told her, holding the picture to my chest. "Just... something I drew. It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing," she raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to talk about something?"

"N-no. It's fine mom. Really. Don't worry about it, just something I drew." I shook my head, closed it, and put it into my school bag. "Really!" I said as I looked back at her disbelieving face.

"Alright! If you don't want me to see it, I'll respect your wish." She put her hands in the air defensively. "Time to get dressed, school starts soon."

I groaned, but went to my closet, rummaging through the many shirts, sweaters, and jackets. I settled on a gray sweater and some white jeans. Putting on what little makeup I wore, I grabbed my bag and went downstairs, where I then set it back down and walked over to grab my shoes by the door. I pulled them on as I returned to the kitchen, grabbing the Cheerios, milk, and a bowl. I got my breakfast and ate it quickly, then told my mom I was leaving and got in my car.

As it started, music poured loudly from the speakers. I was stopped at the first light on the way to school as one of my favorite songs, Miss Jackson by Panic! at the Disco, came on. I sang along happily as I drove. Reaching the parking lot before the song was over, I sat in my seat and continued to sing until the music stopped.

Smiling, I turned off the engine, gathered my things, and got out of the car. As I did, I felt a pair of eyes on me and looked around. I didn't see anyone who was looking back at me, so I started to walk in. But I still felt like I was being watched.

"Nice dance moves, Kara," came a voice from behind me. I whipped around to find Michael walking towards me laughing.

I blushed and looked down. "Oh, uh, thanks, I guess. It was my favorite song."

"It was so adorable though! You're cute when you're happy," he smiled and walked with me to the school.

"You think I'm not happy?" I asked curiously.

"Well, not that you seem unhappy, just... not interested. Like you already know everything we're learning," Michael said slowly.

"Because I pretty much do. Except for History, I was taught everything at my old school in Minnesota. I never thought I'd be taking Australian History," I laughed and held the door open for Michael. I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eye and decided to be nice and hold it for them too.

"Thanks, Kara," came a voice from the tall, black-clad figure approaching. The only other person who, to my knowledge, knew my name. He walked past me to the next door, opening it for me as I stepped inside. "Just returning the favor," Luke smiled kindly.

"Um, thanks. Luke isn't it?" I asked quietly, walking through the door.

"Yeah. I'm surprised you remembered," he raised his eyebrows.

"Why wouldn't I remember your name? You told me, didn't you?" I shrugged.

"True. But you seem like someone who is pretty popular. The names must all blend together!" he laughed.

Blushing again, I looked at Michael, who stood to my left. "I've actually only talked to you and Michael, so the two names I know don't really blend together," I smiled.

"Well, I'm glad I could be one of those two names then." Luke smiled back. "I should probably go put my stuff away. See you around Kara." Luke started to leave.

"Okay. Cool. See ya." I replied as Michael and I went to our lockers.

"What was that all about? You looked terrified!" Michael said quietly.

"It's... nothing." I shook my head, still slightly flustered by what had happened. I didn't feel like telling him about my dream last night.

"If you say so," he shrugged. "Hey. Do you want to hang out tomorrow?" Michael asked, looking at me. Tomorrow was Saturday.

"That sounds alright. What time? Where?" I asked, pulling out my phone and going to my calendar.

"What about noon at The Chocolate Koala?" he suggested.

"That's my favorite coffee shop!" I grinned.

"Mine too," he laughed. "Their chocolate croissants are amazing."

"I don't think I've gotten one of those yet."

"Then you haven't lived yet. We're going to get you one ASAP."

[Edited]

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