The Love I Lost

Chapter 1: Introduction

I was a city gal. I had chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. I wasn't very popular in school. I had a mind of my own. I was stubborn as hell. Completely not his type of girl. But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?

My name is Elizabeth Ashwern. But everyone calls me Liz or Lizzy. I'm seventeen; I live in a suburb in L.A. And...everyone was out to get me. I'm not being melo dramatic either, I'm serious. Everyone at school absolutely hates me. I knew why, too. My dad was the principle. Oh, yeah. And he was harsh too. Just because I stayed out of trouble and never had to be sent to his office, kids thought I was getting special treatment, and...badda bing badda boom, I'm the most wanted teenager in school. Which is...kinda cool, actually.

My best friends, Greta and Lily, were by my side, though. Lily's current boyfriend of two weeks, Roy, was not. She dated high society boys. In other words, popular ones. That sucked so, so bad, too, because he got the inside scoop. What I was afraid of and what not. I'm sure Lily didn't mean to spill the beans.

Greta was different, however. She was more of a Goth girl, though more punkish. A very funny girl. Extremely tomboyish, never wore anything frilly and never said anything stupid. She was smarter than she looked.

And me...I'm the strong, silent type. Kinda suffer on my own. I rarely cry and try to hide my emotions in a shell. Everyone hates it when I do that. But I don't really mean to, it's just my way. Some girls cry to relieve pain, I just...hide it. But there was always one way to get things down. My book, I don't like calling it a diary or a journal, cause that's stupid. For me, anyway. I call it my book, though I suppose it is a diary, as much as I hate to admit it.

Little did I know, all my popularity status would change when he showed up. Again, I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was one of those really bad days. Not only was it pouring rain, but I had woken up late, lost my homework, and my car had broken down...again.

My clothes were drenched and my sneakers squeaked against the newly mopped floor. Poor Mr. Rollings (the janitor), he'd have to clean the floor again. Then, above everything, while I was running to biology, I slipped and fell hard on my back.

My mouth was open mutely, and it was all I could do to not yell out in pain. I lay there for about a minute before black boots stopped right at my head.

Hesitantly, thinking it might be a teacher, I looked up. But the shoes were like any other teenager's in school. I breathed a sigh of relief when a hand came down to help me up. Thankful, I took the offer and stood rather wobbly.

"Erm...thanks..." I stammered.

He was tall, maybe half a foot taller than me. He looked Italian. His hair was dark and straight, but dry. Maybe he got here before the rain? Though I found that impossible because it was raining since earlier this morning and he didn't seem to have an umbrella.

Then he smirked wolfishly. "Rather embarrassing."

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged, not really embarrassed at all.

"Well, that's what you get for running on wet floors," he chuckled and walked away.

I stared at him in confusion. "Okay...that was weird," I murmured to myself before realizing I was still late. Mr. Leeche would ship me to my father's office for sure. Even the teachers were trying to find ways to get me into trouble.

I practically thrust open the biology room door, everyone was looking at the girl who looked like a drowned rat. "Sorry," I panted, taking my seat next to Drew, a blond-haired boy who liked me more than the others of his kind.

"What'd you do? Walk to school?" he whispered.

I nodded. "Partway, at least. My car's on the side of the road."