The soft light of the sunset filled my vision.  I'd lived my entire life in the Florida Keys, but somehow this was different.  It was far more beautiful than any sunset over the expansive ocean could ever be.  I'd never driven through any long expanse of nothing before.  Never in my life had I driven anywhere, actually.  It was flat in every direction imaginable.  I knew I shouldn't have been enjoying the sight of the sun setting over the nothingness that would soon be my home.  I should still be terrorizing my parents about leaving home, but somehow I felt no desire to.  When we had left, five day ago, I had been beyond upset. 

 

Why did my dad changing his job mean that all of us had to move to the middle of nowhere?  And as far as I'm concerned, nowhere is Roswell.  Roswell, the site of the UFO crash in nineteen forty-seven.  Supposedly anyways, not that I buy all that crap.  I don't exactly go for all the alien nothing stuff.  I'm not that interested in space.  It's nice we go up there and all, but no thank you.  I like my feet firmly planted on the Earth.  I don't like flying either.  It's a pointless activity, but I could never say that.  Not with my dad around.  He's a pilot for the USAF and well, that's why we're moving.  Stupid Air Force.  Maybe that's the only reason I hate it so much, flying that is.

 

I don't really know.  I don't really care either.  The only thing that worries me now is that I'm not upset to be stuck in the middle of nowhere watching the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen.  There must be something wrong with me.  Shouldn't I be upset about leaving all my friends?  I snort to myself.  Leaving them might actually be a good thing, no more being nobody in the crowd.  Not that I didn't enjoy being no one to some extent.  I'm going to be going to a private prep school in the middle of nowhere.  How fitting for the public high school geek of the century.  Truthfully, I don't think I've talked to more than five guys in my entire high school career.  And that was because I had to.  It's not that I’m antisocial; I'm just different than the rest of the girls.  I don't know why.  I feel just as attracted to the guys as any other girl, but I don't like to admit it.  I think I just don't think about it.

 

The sun was gone now.  It was dark, but there was a sign for Roswell at the next exit.  I could tell because of the alien that's glued on to the side of the ugly billboard.  I didn't think I could last any more without falling asleep, but for some very odd reason I was actually interested in seeing my new home.  For all my loathing of a place I'd never been to, I was now interested.  It made absolutely no sense, but I wasn't one to ask questions.

 

I ended up falling asleep, though.  I figured this out when my dad softly shook my shoulder and my eyes snapped open to view a small two-story house with a light exterior, "We're here, Al."

 

"Wonderful," I muttered and closed my eyes again.  The animosity towards my parents was coming back again, "It looks like it couldn't fit a bed."

 

I know he gave me a stern look, even though my eyes were closed, "Al, it's all they could give us for the time being.  Who knows, I might become commander and get the mansion right outside of town.  We'll see."

 

"You'll see," I snapped, "I'm going back to Miami."

 

My eyes were still closed, but I could hear him moving closer to me, "Al, we didn't do this to hurt you.  You have to understand that."

 

"Whatever," I spoke softly and tentatively opened my blue eyes, "Can I just go to bed now?"

 

He ran a tired hand through his messy blonde hair, but nodded, "Alright."

 

"Thank you," I told him cruelly and grabbed my suitcase and dragged it into the small house.  I worked my way up the narrow set of stairs and found the first room.  There was already furniture in the house, thanks to the military people.  I simply dropped my things and collapsed on the bed.  Beyond tired.  Tomorrow was Monday and I knew I had to go to the school then.  I had already received my uniform and it was stuffed somewhere in the suitcase.  Somewhere being the operative phrase.  I'd find it in the morning.   Or perhaps my father wouldn't make me go.  My mother certainly couldn't, considering she was living in France for a year studying the great painters of the baroque period.  I got the feeling she really didn't care what happened to my dad or me.  I didn't however spend much time on that.  She and my dad seemed to have a perfect relationship anyways.

 

I pulled out my ancient alarm radio with bold red numbers and plugged it into the nearest wall outlet.  I set it quickly to local time and then proceeded to set the alarm as well.  I didn't even want to contemplate how I'd survive the next day.  I pulled off my old jean coat I'd worn on the ride here and dumped it on the floor along with my sneakers and the Kennedy Space Center hat.  I didn't really know why I owned it.  I think some relative had given it to me long ago before my parents had informed everyone not to give me any science like stuff.  I may be good at math and science, but I hate both of them with a passion.

 

I felt my eyes beginning to droop and wandered clumsily to the bed.  I basically fell into it and as soon as my head it the pillow I was out like a light.  I must have gotten something like six hours of sleep that night.  When I awoke, the birds were chirping happily outside and my alarm was buzzing at the volume of a rock concert.  I groaned, how could the birds be so darn happy?  I reached out and slammed my hand on the off button of the evil buzzing object beside me and sighed.  Frowning to myself, I fell out of bed and to the floor beside my red suitcase.  There were no rugs in the room and the wood floor felt cold against my newly awakened senses. 

 

Trying to ignore the fact that I was sure I was going to freeze to death, I tore through my bag looking for the uniform.  I found it easily enough, the gray and blue checked skirt with the plain white blouse and navy blazer.  I rolled to the side and reached out to the door to push it shut.  The hinges must have been newly oiled because the door slammed shut with the easy tap I gave it. 

 

Also trying not think about what my Dad would do if he figured out why he had just woken up, I ripped off my ragged "beach girl for life" shirt and my purple sweats with mesh on the sides exposing a stripe along the side of my leg.  I never wore them in public, my parents didn't let me and I really didn't want to anyways.  I hadn't taken off my bra the night before and I figured if I wore the blazer all day nobody would be able to see I was wearing an orange bra, that's one thing Florida was good for: oddly colored objects of clothing.  One less thing to find in the suitcase as well, as far as I was concerned. 

 

I did, however, need new underwear.  I wasn't exactly the type to wear the same pair for days on end and I privately hoped no one else was either.  The first pair that I found ended up matching my very scary shade of orange bra and I quickly decided that no one would be looking up my skirt either.  I doubted I needed stockings, but just in case I had grabbed a pair from home and I now slipped very ungracefully into them.  Standard black shoes had been included with the uniform and I found them easily because they seemed to be the only truly solid objects in the suitcase.

 

Having put on all elements of the outfit, I hurried into the spotless bathroom to do my hair and quickly wash my face.  After applying a discrete amount of makeup, I hurried down stairs.  My dad had not woken up at the thundering bang of my door closing, so I ate my Special K in silence.  The night before, he had been kind enough to leave my blue back pack sitting by the door with all my needed supplies as well as walking directions to the prep school.  I smiled thankfully up the stairs and grabbed a rusty key from where it sat on the unpolished counter top. 

 

As I yanked it forward, a piece of wood lodged itself in my skin and I silently cried out.  We'd have to fix that soon, I decided as I pulled the appalling piece of wood out of my dainty finger.  I noticed it was bleeding, but at that point there was nothing to be done about it.  I glared at the counter one last time and hurried to entryway to collect my backpack and directions.  I slipped silently out of the house and into the soft glow of early dawn.  When I looked down at the directions, after making sure the door was securely locked, I realized I'd dripped blood all over them.  There was no point in fretting about that, however.  I had to arrive some minutes early to meet with the headmaster and have a small tour of the school.  I had decided it would probably not be a good thing to be late, but that was just me.

 

The streets followed relatively straight lines and I found Westford Prep easily for someone who had never set foot in the town before.  The building was impressive, made out of stone and vaguely resembling a castle.  After giving it a tentative once over, I entered through the immense doors and followed the white on blue signs to the offices.  The secretary was one of those people that always seemed to look wonderful and be incredibly stupid and I had to resist the urge to vomit as she smiled at me, "Can I help you?"

 

Being polite as I could, I responded, "Yes, actually.  I have a meeting with the headmaster."

 

"Ah," she smiled even more, if that was possible, and tapped her bright red nails on the desk, "You're the new girl.  Allison Fredrick?"

 

I nodded.  My dad had a love affair with my name.  He would constantly remind me that my initials, since I did not have a middle name, meant Air Force. "Yes, ma'am."

 

She looked at the computer on her desk and raised a brow at me, "Any nicknames?"

 

"I go by Ali," I responded.

 

The long red nails flew over the keyboard as she typed something.  When she was done she smiled at me once again.  "Just have a seat in the corner.  Headmaster Roland will be with you in a second."

 

I nodded my acceptance and retreated to the oversized couch in the corner that was the same shade of blue as every thing else in the school.  I couldn't help but wonder if the school colors had been based off of this ancient couch.  I did not have much time to wonder, however, as the headmaster appeared mere seconds after I had settled myself on the expansive piece of furniture.  "Ms. Fredrick?"

 

I nodded, I was getting good at that, and walked carefully towards the large man.  He was a good six inches taller than my small five foot three inches and I had to crane my neck to look at his face.  His eyes were dark and his hair was almost black, but had streaks of gray in it.  He motioned for me to follow him into his office.  In it already was a blonde boy, around my age, maybe older.  He stood at attention the minute we walked in.  The boy unnerved me as he let his eyes wander over my figure, taking in every last detail, I was sure.  The Headmaster, however, did not seem to notice.  Maybe it was simply my imagination.  I took a seat in the proffered chair next to the blonde and waited for someone else to speak.

 

"Ms. Fredrick, this is Mr. DuGrey, my nephew, he'll show you around after I speak to you for a second," the large man spoke as I glanced warily at the young man beside me.  An air of cockiness seemed to surround him and for some reason I was completely dreading spending any time in his presence.  I did, however, give him a cordial nod of the head, but I kept my eye trained on Headmaster Roland.

 

The DuGrey boy simply grinned at me and turned to his uncle, "Don't worry, I'll be a good guide and show her everything."

 

The words sounded innocent enough, but with the suave tone and slight leer coming from the boy, that wasn't the case at all.  Again, however, the Headmaster didn't seem to notice.

 

"Good, now Allison, I want you to understand that Westford is for the best.  We expect good work and devotion to academics.  Classes are hard and demand much of a student's time.  Is that understood?" he questioned.

 

"Yes," I nodded.  This was a prep school after all.

 

"Good, Mr. DuGrey has your schedule and will show you around," he smiled at me, "Good luck."

 

"Thank you," I spoke softly as I clasped his out reached hand.

 

Headmaster Roland nodded his acknowledgement and then let my hand go and I diligently followed his nephew out of the room.  As soon as we were out of the room, the boy threw an arrogant glance my way, "So where to first, Mary? Your locker, your classrooms?"

 

I frowned at him a moment and wondered if he hadn't heard his uncle in the Headmaster's room, "My name is not Mary."

 

"Whatever you say, Mary," he spoke leering at me as well, "Locker first."

 

Deciding he simply wanted to be a Jerk and make my life a living Hell, I threw him a nasty glance.  "I'm not going anywhere until you call me by my real name."

 

I was leaning against the locker bank on the opposite side of the administration offices and I started to move towards the offices again.  The boy, however, cut me off by resting each one of his hands on both sides of my head and leaning close in to me.  I could feel his breath flutter across my face, but ignored it.  He let his lips graze the side of my face until they came to rest at my ear, "I'm afraid that's not possible, Mary.  And I don't think you want to leave.  You need me too much."

 

The double meaning of his words was not lost on me, but I chose to ignore the more lewd implication, "I'm sure I can find my way around here on my own."

 

For a moment, he seemed surprised at my immunity to his comments, but he recovered quickly and raised his left hand to stroke my cheek, "That's what they all say, Mary, but I can see right through you."

 

Disgusted at his continuance of his game, I shoved him forcefully away, "Will you please just show me my locker?  I can find my classes without your help."

 

Once again, he skillfully covered his shock at my actions and shrugged, "You just don't know what you're missing."

 

"I'm not missing anything," I snapped and motioned for him to lead the way, "Locker. Now. DuGrey."

 

Throwing me an inviting look he spoke suavely, "Your wish is my command, Mary."

 

I groaned to myself.  How was I ever going to survive a day of this let alone a year?  And maybe more if he was indeed only a sophomore, I shuddered.  I continued to try to think of worse possible scenarios as he led the way to my locker bank.  For some reason, though, I really couldn't think of anything worse.  The Devil himself had just walked into my life.

 

Surprisingly, however, I was still in one piece as I exited the immense building seven hours later.  My dad had told me he was going to come pick me up, but I doubted he'd have remembered.  And I was right.  He was nowhere to be seen.  Annoyed, but not exactly surprised, I started to make my way out to the main street in front of Westford.  I was about half way to the sign that was made of the same bland colors as the rest of the school was decked out in when a silver Camero pulled up beside me.  I took one look at the driver and kept on walking.  I did not wish to encounter my guide more than necessary in a single day.  He had proved just as awful as I had feared as he showed me to my locker, leaving by blowing me a kiss and whispering something about seeing me later in my ear.  Now here the annoying guy was again.  I made a sound of utter disgust and continued on my way until I abruptly had to halt.  He had pulled his expensive piece of junk right onto the sidewalk and directly into my path.  I didn't want to be hit, so I was forced to stop and glare at him, "You."

 

He had already had his window rolled down.  The Roswell heat wasn't exactly non-existent.  He had his navy blazer thrown on the passenger seat and had rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal lightly tanned skin.  He obviously noticed me giving him the once over because the next moment I regretted ever looking at him, "Like what you see, Mary?"

 

"Would you go away?" I sighed and started to walk around his car.  He gunned the engine and obviously expected me to stop.  I did no such thing.  There was no way in this desolate world that he would actually try to run me over, no matter what he might threaten.

 

He gave me a slight smile, but I frowned at him as I continued to round his car, not giving him the time of day.  He didn't seem at all fazed and I managed to tune him out as I continued my walk in the hot desert air.  My luck, however, did not last for long.  One moment I was celebrating getting him out of my hair and the next moment I was being drawn into his embrace, "At least let me give you a ride, Mary.  It's hot out."

 

"I don't have to walk far," I pointed out and tried to pull out of his warm embrace.

 

"Come on," he insisted and I proceeded to glare at him.

 

Finally, I wretched out of his hold and took numerous steps back, "Can't you take no for an answer?"

 

He licked his lips suggestively and leered at me, "Not when I want something so badly… I even dream about you, ya know Mary?"

 

"You can't have dreamed about me.  You've known me all of eight hours," I stated blandly.

 

"I've seen you in my dreams every night," he countered.

 

I frowned at him, "You're delusional."

 

"Only when I'm around you," he smirked at me and his bright blue eyes sparkled.

 

I pretended to study him for a moment, "I was thinking more along the lines of all the time.  Now, would get back into your car and leave me alone already?"

 

"Ouch… that hurts Mary, that really hurts," he held his hand to his breast in pain.

 

I gave him my best 'how pathetic can you be' look and told him, "Get over yourself, bye …"

 

It was then I realized I didn't know his first name.  My mouth just hung open while he smirked at me.  He turned gracefully to return to his car.  Just before he got into the sparkling car, he turned let his eyes run over my form yet again, "Tristan."

 

I realized my mouth was still open and abruptly shut it.  He threw me one last overly heated gaze before dropping into the drivers seat and pulling quickly away.  I was left in the dust as the sliver streak flew away down the road.