"The moral of this story is that no matter how much we try, no matter how much we want it ... some stories just don't have a happy ending."

-Jodi Picoult, Leaving Time

I cannot believe this is happening to me.

It's the first day of school and I'm already late for my morning class. Whizzing past a corner, I race down the pavement on my cream Viking bike that I dug out from a second hand shop last Christmas. It creaks and hits a few bumps. Biting onto my lips, I'm more than relieved to see the front gate of my school just about the corner.

My phone buzzes in the front pocket of my shirt when I speed between the gates. I have a feeling it'd be a text message from Dave. He's the last person I'd want to think about right now, especially after our argument over the phone last night. I find a slot by the full parking lot and hop off my bike hurriedly, locking it to the rail and grab my backpack before I rush into the main school building.

I have Art first thing in the morning and I really don't want to leave a bad impression. This is my last year in school and if I want to go to this art academy in London, I'd have to work harder than ever on my grades, and hopefully get onto good terms with the teacher too. So far, I'm not doing great with my plan.

Thank goodness I have printed out my new timetable yesterday. I'm more than pleased to find out I'm still having lessons in the same art studio that I used last year. I have come to grow quite attached to that narrow, crampy space that this school calls an art studio. After a couple stair marathons, I have finally reached my classroom, and I'm already fifteen minutes later. Sucking in a deep breath, I attempt to smooth out my skirt and push open the heavy door.

Every head turns to look at me. A slow blush creeps to my cheeks. The woman standing before the white board peers at me over the rim of her thick glasses. She frowns. "How nice of you to join us, Miss Webb."

I swallow. A lame apology slips through my lips timidly. I can feel their eyes burning on me. I hate this so much. Watching on expectedly, the woman cues for me to find a seat. Glancing around me, I'm only so relieved when I catch glimpse of my best friend, Courtney, sitting at the corner of this table with three others. Lowering my head, I pick my way through and feel heads turning as I shift between tables. Courtney pouts her glossed lips when I drop myself into the seat next to her. Once the class has settled down, she leans in and blinks at me worriedly. "Everything okay?" she quizzes softly.

I hum and shake my head subtly. A girl from across Courtney watches between us curiously. "Is it Dave?" Courtney arches her perfectly shaped brows. Sighing, I nod and pull out my notebook from my backpack. Scowling, Courtney swirls her pen between her fingers. While I'm desperately trying to jot down the notes that were written on the board, Courtney whispers, "tell me everything in break."

"Of course," I whisper back. Peeking up at the teacher, I move closer to Courtney and asks, "She's new?"

Tugging at the curls on her shoulder, Courtney nods and frowns when she catches the girl watching us. Bored, the girl finally decides to turn her attention back on the teacher, who is now showing a slide of some mono prints. "She's supposed to have come from some art school up north. Big stuff." Darting her eyes back to the board, Courtney finishes, "how she's ended up here, I have no clue."

I bought a Mars bar from the vending machine first thing when break starts. Courtney leans her shoulder against the wall as she watches on blankly. "So," she pops the bubble gum in her mouth and starts, "what's up with you and Dave?"

Joining her by the wall, I drop my bag onto the floor and exhale shakily. "I think he's cheating on me," I mutter helplessly and tear the wrapping of my chocolate bar apart. Courtney's eyes widen.

"Why would you think that?"

"He was texting this girl the other day and being really weird about it." I pause, finding no urge to eat my Mars bar anymore, despite not having any breakfast at all this morning. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

Pouting even more, Courtney pulls me in a big hug. All I can smell is strawberry and perfume. "Oh honey," she cooes and squeezes me tightly, "I'm so sorry. But you never know. Maybe he was just having a bad day." Relaxing into her, I shut my eyes and allow myself to forget about the morning bustles.

"Lia?"

My heart sinks at the voice. Pulling away from Courtney, I brace myself and turn on my heels. "Dave," I try a small smile but fail. Hesitantly, Courtney touches my arm and mouths her exit. I let her slip away. When her curled hair disappears in the crowd that is packed within the school hall, I turn back to Dave.

"Did you see my text?" Dave ceased his brows and glances at my phone, which is sitting in my front pocket. His light hair is almost reaching his eyes, his lips are pressed into a thin line.

"Nope." I answer, crossing my arms and looking away from him. He licks his lower lip in thoughts and tug at his lip piercing with his teeth. I never understand why he'd do that. It simply looks painful to me.

"Are you trying to avoid me?" Over his shoulder, I can see his mates lingering by the lockers, watching us as if we were the seasonal football game. To my surprise, Dave reaches out and lifts my chin gently. His eyes bore into mine as he speaks among the chatters from the hall. "Babe, I'm not cheating on you. I'm yours. Forever and always."

I look him and try to search for anything in his eyes, any sign of him lying. But I see none. I can imagine Courtney telling me off for being so naive but I simply don't think I can afford another fight with Dave. We've been going out for sixth months now. Us together means a lot to me. Leaning into his touch, I sigh, "I was late this morning. I didn't have time to check my phone." Seeing my softened reaction, Dave smiles lightly and puts his arms around me in a warm embrace.

"It's okay, babe." With my nose against his shirt, I can smell his aftershave and to my annoyance, weeds. Frowning, I freeze in his arms but he takes no notice. Peeking up at him, I lean slightly back and put on the most neutral expression I can muster at the moment.

"Have you been smoking again?" I quiz softly. We never get onto any agreement on this sort of things. He knows I hate it when he smokes, and he does try to do it when I'm not around. But he's doing it more and more frequently, it's getting on my nerves.

With his eyes turning cold and stormy, Dave tried for a smile but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't you worry, babe," he whispers and places his lips on mine, effectively shutting me up.

People say when you kiss the person you love, you're supposed to feel fireworks in your stomach or honey on your tongue. When I'm kissing Dave this morning, I feel none of that. I let him lead the way and closing my eyes, I try to think of all the reasons of why I want to stay with him. I picture myself standing from across the hallway watching us, the awkward couple making out. I see fireworks falling onto the ground, the crowds dispersing after the party is done.

When he's finally done, Dave leans back and runs a thumb over my cheek. This times, sparks glint in his eyes once more as he smiles down at me. "Lia, I have always wanted to tell you this. I think I love y-"

"Webb!"

I freeze in Dave's hands. This cannot be happening. It can't be who I think it is. No bloody way.

"Lia Webb," the voice gets closer. Dave, confused and annoyed, turns around with a scowl, allowing me the full view of the person approaching us. "Goddamn," his beam is bright and delinquent, his eyes follow mine as he takes in the sight of me behind Dave. "I haven't talked to you in ages. Wanna catch up?"

Dave is the first one to react. He glances between me and the work of a nightmare and frown. "You guys know each other?"

"We're tight," The devil himself speaks, pulling back his cap as he smiles his killer smile at both Dave and I. My boyfriend scoffs and crosses his arms.

"We're not," I mutter moodily. This is the last thing I need on my first day of school. This jerk, after not speaking to me for years because he's busy being the cool kid at school, has suddenly come to me for not reasons? Weird.

I take in his jeans, trainers and jersey that shows off his ridiculous arms. He does look good, I'll give him that. No wonder the girls in my school literally fall head over toes for him. Heaving a sigh, I ask, "What do you want, Wesley?

Shrugging, he nods towards my locker, "a chat, maybe?"

Wesley and I knew each other since kindergarten. We were like carrot and peas, bread and butter, however you'd like to put it. We used to know each other like the back of our hands. He had a big fear for spiders and, strangely, rubber bands. He used to mock me when I played with my barbie dolls, then would later on join me at the tea party with my stuffed animals.

We were that close.

Now sitting from across this boy with windswept hair and dazzling grin, I don't think I know him anymore. At least not the way it used to be. Adjusting his cap for the millionth time, Wesley nods behind me and quizzes, "he's your boyfriend?"

I glance over my shoulder to see Dave sitting at a table with his mates. They are clearly trying to watch Wesley and I as subtly as possible, all but too curious to know what we are up to. Sighing, I turn back to Wesley, who seems to have shifted his attention onto something else completely. He's now gazing blankly around us, looking for something interesting to stare at, perhaps.

Which really annoys me.

After years of not talking to me and completely disappearing out of my life for no reasons, I assume he's probably found me boring and moved on with his cool friends in school. I kind of grew to accept it, and frankly, I didn't really have the energy to be upset about Wesley when my very own brother has decided to disappear out of my life forever too.

"Cheers," Wesley mutters and slips the Mars bar from underneath my fingers, snapping me out of my trance. I stare with wide eyes as he takes a huge bite out of my chocolate bar.

"Hey!" I protest, snatching it out of his hand, almost growling at him in process. A few kids next to us stare and watch on. "That's mine!"

The corner of Wesley's lips tug. Smirking, he licks his lips and remarks, "you haven't changed much, Lia."

Anger boils within me, twisting knots in my stomach until I feel like I'm out of breaths. I need to act chill before Dave comes over and make a big scene out of it. Lowering my voice, I glare and put it down between us, "Don't you pretend you didn't leave me without a damn word, West. Don't you pretend you still know me like you used to. You've made a choice, for whatever reason your stupid head comes up with." I'm actually out of breaths just being mad. My burning cheeks aren't helping too. Thankfully, Wesley seems to have gotten the message that i am indeed pissed at him. With his eyes grave, he keeps his silence and a stare down ticks down between us. The group of kids next to us seems to have grown quieter as the tension thickens at the table. Sucking in a deep breath, I steady myself and try my hardest not to think about the night when I was so young and naive, when I would cry over Wesley and my brother. It's all in the past now. I keep telling myself I've grown stronger, but I'll need to act it too. Balling my hands into fists, I hide them under the table and lift my chin coolly. "What do you want, Wesley?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously.

He glances around us once more. I'm surprised he's not with his usual gang. At last, he flickers his dark gaze back to me. "I need your help, Lia," he says softly, "this is serious."

I almost laughed in his face. But I feel like any sudden movement would tip off the ice berg in me and I'd either end up crying or snapping at everybody like a crazy cat lady. So instead, I frown. "I don't know why you think I'd help you."

He stares. The lady-killer smirk has disappeared completely from his handsome face. For once, Wesley looks as if he's at loss, and I haven't seen the vulnerability in his eyes in ages. Every day I hear rumours and gossips about himself. Every break I'd see him hanging with his mates, laughing and flirting with the girls as confidently as ever. This is the new Wesley that I have accepted, someone who could never replace the young Wesley whom I used to love.

A hand taps my shoulder lightly. Peering up, I see Dave frowning at Wesley, who is still staring at me emotionlessly. My heart has gone cold for our dead memories. I can only remind myself that this person before me isn't the same one that I've grown up with. We have all changed, you see. There is no denying in that.

"Let's go," Dave says quietly and as usual, I agree and move onto my feet, about to leave until Wesley reaches out and grab my wrist.

His dark eyes dart to my face, searching for a hint of recognition. When he sees none, he looks me in the eyes and whispers, "Lia."

With my heart pounding heavily in my chest, I push his hand off mine and walk away from the table with Dave.