Remember this Face, Baby.

Tuesday morning; 7:16 A.M.

For what felt like the hundredth time, I sighed and grimaced at the person standing trapped in the mirror in front of me. The person looked exactly like me, moved like me, but the girl living in the mirror didn't think like me. Just looking at the replica of me, I couldn't help, but think how horrible I looked. Dark bags circled my brown eyes and my skin colour seemed a shade lighter. My body movements were sluggish and lazy - something my mom would be commenting on the moment I stepped downstairs.

Last night, I hadn't gotten even a second of sleep. I was only moving because I had, too and not because I wanted, too. A casual conversation had taken place downstairs in the kitchen, only ten minutes ago when someone arrived early in the morning today. Thankfully, they had left me to myself and I had fallen asleep until my alarm clock went off at seven.

Looking over my shoulder at the mirror one last time, I grimaced at my reflection and moved back into step, shutting off the bathroom light in the process. I stopped at my bedroom door and opened it just, slightly, peeking my head inside. My daughter was still sleeping and breathing, heavily in her crib. I smiled and pulled my head out, closing the door, gently and walked downstairs.

As I entered the kitchen, I stared at the back of a familiar blonde I knew as my only and true friend, Kayla. My mom was standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and keeping her casual conversation with Kayla. My best friend sat at the kitchen table, legs crossed in a graceful manner, holding a cup of hot coffee in her hands over her lap. She threw her head back and laughed, with her sing-song voice and smiled, as my mother commented on something.

"Money's everything nowadays," my mom stated, shaking her head and continuing to scrub at the stuck-on food inhabited on the plate.

"Well, it's not everything. I can assure you that," Kayla declared, tilting her head to the side. My mom looked over her shoulder and smiled, understandingly, before looking over to her left and smiling at me.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said, softly, then squinted and arched an eyebrow, "You look like shit. Are you okay?" she added, bluntly and took a few steps towards me, hands covered with foam and shining with water.

"Thanks for just putting it out there, but I'm fine. Just didn't get as much sleep as I wanted," I answered, wishing she'd just drop the subject and not give me the look she gave me when she wanted me to stay home.

"Karissa, if you don't feel well . . . " my mother's voice came to halt, as I stared at her and shook my head.

"Seriously, I'm fine. I missed a few hours of sleep, it's nothing bad. Please, mom, don't call the doctor or anything. There's no reason to get paranoid over a few hours missed of sleeping, okay?" I demanded, firmly, glaring at Kayla who looked as if she would cave in and stand beside my mother.

My mother sighed, loudly and nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. She didn't say anything and turned back to washing the dishes. Kayla glanced down at her coffee and avoided all eye-contact with me, watching me from the corner of her eye as I walked towards the fridge and stood on my toes, grabbing a cereal box.

A dead silence fell over the kitchen. No one said a word, and the only thing we could hear was the water running and the distant clatter of dishes. Kayla would glance everywhere, but the area I was in, fearing that I'd explode and do something out of the ordinary. My mom hadn't even dared to turn around and start a conversation with me or neither, Kayla. She'd continue to wash a plate, though it looked completely spotless of any scum, then she'd grab another plate and continue the same routine.

After I finishing my breakfast, I stood up from the table and walked towards my mom, I placed my empty cereal bowl on the counter. My mom jumped at my sudden presence and reached for the bowl, ignoring my presence. I didn't say anything, though it was at the tip of my tongue and walked into the living room. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, turning to see Kayla walking out of the kitchen, calling a soft, "good-bye," over her shoulder and walking outside. Mimicking what Kayla had done, I looked into the kitchen and once I didn't receive a respond, I walked outside, pulling the sweater closer around my body.

Kayla looked upset, something I noticed once I sat in the passenger side and closed the door. Instead of worrying about the subject that would break out in a few minutes, I stared out the window and my mind wandered. This morning was cold, another note I caught the minute I stepped outside and saw my breathe turn into a white cloud of smoke. Winter was slowly approaching, though no one really noticed it coming. The continuous gloomy atmosphere and grey clouds that moved across the skies, along with the temperature's sudden mood swings. In a few weeks, specs of white dots would fall from the sky and land on the grounds, covering the beautiful green lawns with what we refer to as snow.

Winter was a season filled with joy, even if we tried to deny it. Snow was tempting, especially the snow laying smoothly on the lawns that only said one thing; destroy. Children would run outside, in their big snowsuits and snow boots, with warm gloves covering their hands and thick hats covering their heads. Little girls would make snow angels and admire them for mere seconds, before troublesome boys came trotting over their masterpieces, laughing that they had wrecked something so precious to the cooty-infected girls. The girls would scream and shriek at them, but that only made the boys laugh more and then, an out-break of a snowball fight would occur. When they got tired of snow battling the sexes, they'd make snowmen together.

Christmas was another beautiful activity that happened during winter. The day our Lord, Jesus Christ was born and our Saviour, the forgiver of our sins came into this world to relieve us of our sins. We'd celebrate it with our families, having a big supper of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pies and many other specialties. Families would gather in the den and talk about how well our sons and daughters were doing in school and in life. Then at twelve, Santa Claus would come down the chimney, with his big bag full of toys and treats. He'd place them around the decorated Christmas tree and in the morning, there on the table would be the bitten cookie and half-filled milk, Santa Claus had drank. Kids would wake up all over the world and run downstairs to open their presents.

Alexis would be going threw that very soon, I hoped.

I glanced over at Kayla, shaking the image of Christmas trees and snowflakes out of my mind. Kayla was chewing on her lip, staring at the road ahead of her. She wanted to say something, I knew she did, but she didn't know how to. I didn't want to say anything, incase she took it the wrong way because knowing me, I'd word it wrong and bam! there goes my best friend.

For the first time in years, I finally felt tension.

"Karissa," Kayla started, but stopped, instantly to glance over at me and once she saw I was calm and not glaring at her, she continued, "you were a bit harsh with your mom."

"How was I being harsh? I don't understand. You don't think it's tiring knowing she's always at my neck?" I asked, exasperatedly, shaking my head.

"But Karissa, she's your mom. She's supposed to worry about you, especially if this kind of stuff is going on. Give your mom some slack," Kayla stated, looking over at me.

"You don't understand how annoying it is not to be able to do something and have your mom getting all paranoid about it. Even if I get a papercut, my mom's already going to the phone to call some doctor to get me looked over. She's just too much," I claimed, truthfully. I ran my fingers threw my hair and sighed, heavily.

"At least you have someone to worry about that small papercut that doesn't mean a lot. I wish I had your mom to worry about me. My mom doesn't worry enough about me. Karissa, don't take it for granted. Appreciate her and I think you should call her and apologize," how would I have known Kayla would have brought her mother into this and laid down the pity card? I knew I didn't take my mom for granted, I thanked her everyday for being there for me, but enough was enough. The limit of being over-protected was getting out of hand.

"I'm not calling anyone. And how can you say I take her for granted? You don't even live with me to know how much I thank her everyday for being there for me and putting up with my crap. I'm sorry your mom's a total bitch, but please, don't make me feel guilty okay? I love my mom and she knows it. But she also has to let me breathe," I answered, and from the look Kayla gave me, I knew I had fucked up.

"Thanks, Captain Fucking-Obvious, for pointing out that my mom's a bitch. And seriously, who the fuck is trying to make anyone feel guilty? I'm trying to make you see you have a great mom who is just looking out for you and obviously, you don't see that!" her eyes blazed, as she barked at me and shook head head, angrily.

My mouth dropped at her sudden outburst. How could she even say something like that? Instead of remarking on what she said, I kept quiet. I closed my mouth and turned to stare out the window. I pondered about what she had said, though and wondered; did I really take my mom for granted? I wanted to say, "No, I didn't take her for granted," but I deep down I felt like I always did. But I was a teenager and that's what we did, didn't we? We took everything for granted because we felt as though everything we said was right and everything parents said was wrong. We always thought if we said had the last word in any argument, we were tougher than our parents were, but did we ever stop to think how they felt about us? Did we ever think that our parents go through so much to raise us and in the end, they don't even get a single thank you?

I didn't say any of what I was thinking to Kayla, though. I climbed out of the car and walked away from her car, as soon as she parked the car and turned the engine off. I heard her called after me, and she wasn't calling me stop and apologize. She wanted to continue this sudden argument and wanted to get her point out, prove that I was wrong. But I wouldn't give her the pleasure to win, at least not yet or at least not after I got all this cleared up on my own.

I ignored everything they said to me, blocked it out of my mind and shut my hearing off. I pushed threw the crowd and received some pushes back in return, almost making me tumble to the floor. I walked forward, though and went straight to my locker, getting all the things I needed for my first period. I put my book bag inside and closed the locker, moving towards the bathroom.

There were several girls inside the bathroom, either applying more makeup on their caked faces or just hanging around, talking amongst themselves. There was always the tension between the cliches, though, something I noticed each time. At this school, no girl was a friend and no girl was an enemy. They were acquaintances or nothing and if they were nothing, they didn't have anything to do with each other. Of course, there were the groups with girls that had mostly everything in common and they seemed to get along just fine. Then, there were the people who everyone liked; the floaters. Kayla was a good example of being a floater. Every group of girls liked her, no matter if Kayla disagreed with everything they did or said, people didn't seem to care about that and liked her anyway. But then, there were the people no one, but a selected few liked. They were what were called loners. They weren't friendless, but they liked to keep to themselves and because of that, many seemed to drift away from them.

Lastly, there were the people no one, not even the loners, seemed to liked. They were referred to as the outcasts. No one in the school population seemed to like them, no matter their good personality or even bad personality. Some people liked to be with the bad asses or the rebels, but if they were outcasts, even they needed to step out and go find themselves a new school, if not town. Being an outcast was a harsh place to be in, especially in highschool. In highschool, you needed to have friends to turn, too when you were down and those people you could go and talk behind other people's backs without worrying that they'd open their big mouths. If you were an outcast, you didn't even seem to have that.

I wanted to go inside the bathroom, hide in one of the stales and wait until the bell for homeroom rang. Instead of going in like every morning, I backed away from the bathroom and turned down the opposite way. I wasn't going to attend homeroom or first, no not today. I hadn't deliberately skipped class, like I was planning, too today because I always had permission, but now, I just needed to do this for some odd reason. I just needed to walk the empty halls of this school, maybe go outside to the smoking pit located at the back of the school and buy a gram of weed. Smoke it, get high and just grin like an idiot. I'd do it and no one would stop me.

I moved through the dense crowd, walking in and out of the groups standing in the middle of the hallway. Many eyes followed me, as I walked through and I caught his eyes; Di's. He watched me, ignoring the blonde bimbo, trying desperately to get his attention away from me. I knew she was wondering, why wasn't he looking down at her breast exposed just for him or running his hands over her fit body, but instead looking at a plain girl like me, who had nothing? I asked myself that, too, but I knew the answer to it. I wasn't going to think about it right now, because DJ wasn't important at this moment. The illegal plant dried and cut into tiny pieces packed in small baggies were more important to me.

I walked out the backdoors of the school, feeling his eyes still on me. I shook my head and it was all over, once I stepped outside. The sun was out, shining brightly and I smiled at the warmth it gave off. I stepped down the back stairs and walked onto the dirt path, leading into a small forest inhabiting behind the school. Every step I took, I could smell the strong sent of nicotine and the scent of marijuana. I could hardly smell the trees around me or the small flowers still blossoming along the path. But I was guessing, this small forest was already use to the smell and I would have to get use to it, too.

Upon seeing a large group of teenagers standing around the trees or sitting on the dirt-covered ground and the strong smell of smoke, I knew I had finally arrived at the smoking pit. Just like the name of place in the middle of wood, there was a large hole I imagined was the 'pit' were cigarette buds and such laid buried in the dirt. There wasn't just a few half-smoked cancer sticks, no, there were millions of them on the sides and floor of the large pit. Freshly-spat spit laid on the ground around the teenagers and a loud chorus of coughs rang throughout the forest.

"Hey, what can I get'cha?" it was a gruff voice that spoke to me first. I looked up at a teenage boy, no younger than sixteen, with messy black hair and dazzling green eyes. He had a dark smile on his face, as he kept his hands hidden in large pockets of his dirty coat. A smoke laid, lazily at the side of his mouth, inbetween his pouty lips and I watched smoke erupt from his oddly shaped nose.

"What do you got on you?" I asked, casually and looked over his shoulder, staring at all the teenagers occupied in each other and smoking.

"How 'bout this, sweetheart? I give you five grams for five dollars," he suggested, tilting his head and finally, I could see his hands as he pulled them out. I knew what stay hidden in his clenched hand, as the other dangled at the side covered in tattoos.

"Sounds like a deal," I stated, digging into my jean's pocket and pulling out a five dollar bill.

"Here," he held out a small bag filled with cut up weed and a rolled blunt. I grabbed it and handed him the bill, turning on my heel and walking out of the smoking pit.

I didn't understand why I felt so badass, seeing as this was the first time I had actually bought weed myself and that at any minute, I could get caught. I had no idea where I would light up the joint, but I knew for a fact, it wouldn't be around this area. Teachers would be patrolling the smoking pit at any moment and I wasn't going to be one of the kids that they brought in for a detention.

Instead, I moved into the forest again and trailed onto a different dirt path that lead to a small creek. I held the small package in my hand and stared down at the light coloured soil, leading me into a better place, at the moment. My foot crunched on top of dried up leaves that had fallen from the almost bare trees hovering over the path and hiding the sky from view. I glanced up and wished the sun would peek through the branches and light the path just a bit, so it wouldn't give off such a creepy and lonely vibe.

I could hear water running as I approached a thick mass of bush. Ducking under the sharp-looking branches, I walked through, keeping my arms out infront of me to grab anything that might come flying at my face. I pulled branches out of my path and sometimes stepped on things I would rather not know about. I could smell the water mixing with dirt and the feel the mustiness on my face. I ducked under another thick branch and sighed, with relief when I saw the familiar grey rock that over-looked the creek.

Placing my hands on the cold rock, I climbed up and smiled as I looked over the open space. Fallen trees disappeared into the dark creek and lily-pads swallowed most of it. Loud croaks from the large bull frogs sounded around the creek and splashes from the fish swimming underneath, made droplets of water fly everywhere. Dragonflies flew overhead and just above the water, before one was a goner and a fish threw himself into the air and caught the fly in his mouth, bringing him down to the depths of the abyss. There was activity around the creek, as well, as rabbits ran here and there, then hid in their dark holes. Birds squawked and chirped high in the trees hugging the small area and I could hear the cricket's early morning song.

I reached into my jeans and pulled out the small package, setting it down on the rock. I stared at it for a moment and the guilt was finally starting to embed in my conscious. I didn't know if I wanted to do this anymore. I mean, of course Kayla and I had smoked weed once or twice, maybe even three times during the year, but Kayla had wanted to stop before she got addicted and I said I would stop any day and never touch the green again. But here I was, perched on a rock, gazing at the baggie filled with marijuana and a joint rolled inside.

Just do it. No one, not even Kayla will know.

It wasn't my voice, that was for sure. The voice was seductive and convincing, it's own little devil. I could feel myself feeling more and more convinced as the seconds rolled by and the guilt was fading. It disappeared within minutes and I reached down, opening the bag and pulling out the joint. I could smell it, even though I hadn't even lit it yet. The smell was awful, but so entrancing and addicting. Once I actually lit it, I'm sure my worries for now, would fade and it'd only be me.

Oblivious to the fact that I wasn't carrying a lighter or even matches, I shoved my hands into my jeans and felt around. Pulling my hand out with nothing, I patted myself and felt nothing. Now how in the world would I even light this in the first place? With much frustration, I rubbed my face and groaned, loudly. I pondered the many ways I could create a fire and every thought went to just doing it the old cavemen way.

By hand; two sticks; rubbing action.

I would be here for hours just doing that.

The seductive, sultry voice made me move though and retrieve two sticks. I flopped down on the rock and crossed my legs, holding the two sticks in my hands, with an eyebrow arched and my bottom lip in my mouth. I felt like such a child, pondering on how to actually do it. I wondered if I rubbed the stick this way, would it lit? If I rubbed it on the ground, would it lit faster? I wanted to wept with exasperation, before I grew tired and tossed the sticks somewhere. I wouldn't be doing any bad ass things today.

"Need a light?" the voice made me jump higher than I'd like to admit and it sent tingles down my back. Looking in the direction the voice came from, I stared dumbstruck at the beautiful stranger standing by the edge of the rock, holding a few small pebbles in his hand and tossing them with his free one.

Deryk.

When I didn't say anything, he glanced at me with mischief eyes and smirked. He threw the rest of the rocks into the creek and strutted closer to me. I didn't know what to do, besides stare at his beauty. The playful smirk never left his lips, as he bent down to my level and pulled out a baby blue lighter, already erupting with fire. He narrowed his eyes, curiously as I stared at him with my lips parted and my hands fisted at my chest.

"Do you need a lighter?" his voice was husky and low, very seductive. My head was spinning with questions and my stomach was filled with flying butterflies. I knew I was staring and my mother had always said, staring is rude, but how could I not stare at this gorgeous being I've already run in with twice. His sky blue eyes searched my face for any emotion or even a hint of anything, besides a blank expression.

"Want me to leave?" he asked, leaning to his stature and arching an eyebrow.

Finally coming out of my daze, I shook my head, quickly and looked away from him. I wouldn't get anywhere sitting here looking like a fool, so I pushed myself up and dared look at him. His expression hadn't changed, but his smirk had faded into a breath-taking smile. My breathe caught and my chest tightened, making my hands clench into tighter fists.

"N - no. Uhm, sorry. I didn't expect to find anyone else here," I stammered, feeling sudden nerves flare up inside of me.

"I come here when I don't want to go to class. I'd go to the smoking pit, but the people there aren't my crowd. This is better than hanging around the halls," he stated, switching his gaze onto something behind me, before they moved back onto me. "But again, do you need a light?" he added, gently.

"A light for, uhm, a light for what?" I asked, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling quite ashamed that he found me holding a bag filled with weed.

"Look, I already know you have a joint. There's no point in hiding it. You don't really seem like the type of girl who'd do that kind of stuff, but well, whatever floats your boat. I could light it for you," he answered, arching a slender eyebrow.

"Not the type? I do this all the time for your information. I just, I just haven't lately," I replied, heatedly, feeling slightly offended that he considered me not the type. Well, what type he was referring too, I didn't know.

He chuckled, putting his hands up, defensively and smiling from ear to ear. "Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Do you accept my apology?" he asked, lowering his arms and taking a step towards me. His voice had gotten huskier for some reason and I couldn't stop the blush that creeped onto my cheeks. He tossed the hair falling into his eyes, to the side and softened his expression, as he gazed at me.

"Just light the joint for me, please?" I demanded, glancing away from him as my cheeks flushed a darker red. I lifted the perfectly-rolled blunt and held it up for him to take away from me.

"Pushie, pushie aren't we?" he teased, mockingly, shaking his head as he took the illegal substance from my fingers and placed it, professionally between his rosy pink lips.

It seemed no matter what he did, he always pulled off the perfect model pose, models would kill for, even if he was doing something illegal. Just the way the sun glinted off his raven-black hair and glowed around him to the way the ray's aligned his slender and lean body, made him look completely mouth-watering. How he stood before me, with one leg slightly bent and the other supporting his weight, while he lit the thin blunt under his cupped hands, gave me a sudden urge to pull out a camera and take thousands of pictures of him. I knew all pictures would come out like him; completely and utterly perfect. They'd be beautiful in their own unique way and they'd always find a way to amaze me.

The strong scent of burning weed, brought me out of my ponderings. I felt my eyes go cross-eyed, as I stared at the stick just inches away from my face. Letting my eyes move away from the joint, I nearly gasped as I saw his face so close than it had been minutes ago. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips, as he watched my slow reaction. Looking away quickly, I reached for the blunt and put it, hesitantly close to my lips. He wasn't watching me, but there was a feeling he knew I might not do it. Just as he started to turn to look at me, I placed the blunt inbetween my lips and inhaled.

The burning, aching sensation that went down my throat brought the guilt back. I wanted to pull away from it and give it to Deryk, but I couldn't bring myself to for some reason. I wanted to show off and show him, I was a badass, even though I wasn't. He, clearly had seen I wasn't the one to do illegal things, especially the one I was doing now. But I couldn't go back in time and return the weed, no matter what I said or did. I was stuck here, so why not make the best of it?

A few more drags from my part, I handed Deryk the half-smoked blunt. My heart leapt as his skin grazed my fingertips and I looked up, only to see the small contact hadn't even affected him to the slightest. He still held the cool demeanor and when he sensed me watching him, he turned in my direction and smiled. I tried hiding the blush that crept onto my cheeks, by looking down at the ground, but I knew he had caught it. He placed the half-smoked joint inbetween his full lips and took a long drag.

It was half-way through second period, when Deryk and I decided to head back to school. The hallways were empty, apart from the people wondering, aimlessly and those sitting along the lockers, most-likely skipping class. I watched as a group of girls stared, longingly after Deryk as we passed them, before they grimaced at the person walking alongside him and returned to chatting about whatever they had been talking about. Deryk didn't seemed fazed though, because he had watched them stare at him and done nothing, but stare at them like they were garbage.

That made me want to laugh out loud.

Seeing the large grin across my lips, Deryk arched an eyebrow and gave me a crooked smile. Thankfully, I didn't flush, because at that moment, I didn't know what blushing was. He sent me a questioning look and I shrugged, looking over my shoulder, staring at the group of girls giggling and gossiping. He glanced over one broad shoulder and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Those girls want you to talk to them," I stated, as though it was most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, that. I don't want to talk to them, though. They aren't my type of girl," he claimed and I followed him, once he turned a corner and leaned against one of the many lockers lined on the wall.

"Psh, none of those blonde bimbos are your type? That's a surprise," I said, and chuckled, suddenly.

The high had kicked in minutes ago and I was just going higher and higher than where I was, now. Everything around me seemed to make me laugh, no matter if it was just a smudge on the wall or floor to my feet looking funny when I walked. I laughed, every so often and Deryk would join in for a few minutes, until it died down and a comfortable silence would fall between us.

Sometimes, I'd catch him watching me from the corner of my eye and when I looked to see if he actually was, he'd be staring ahead of him. Either he had been looking at me, which seemed pretty impossible or the weed was playing trick with my eyes. The latter one seemed more possible. But I would stare at him for what seemed like hours, but only a few minutes had passed by and he would catch me staring at him. He'd send me his breath-taking smile and run his fingers threw his silky hair, before turning to stare ahead of him.

He was so beautiful.

"None of those blonde bimbos are my type. Blondes aren't my type," he mumbled, bringing me from my pondering. I puckered my lips, when I felt them trying to move into a smile and nodded. "You look like a fish," he added, with a soft chuckle.

"I'm a human fish," I giggled and slapped a hand on his shoulder. With much might, I pulled my face into a serious expression and sighed, loudly, "Well then, who is your type of girl?"

"You're not in the right state of mind to be asking me these questions," he stated. I rolled my eyes and shook my index finger infront of his face, making him smile.

"And neither are you, so tell me. Who is your type of chick?" I demanded, jamming my finger into his chest, which didn't seem to annoy him as much as I thought it would.

Clutching my wrist, he pulled my hand away from his chest and released my hand at my side, tenderly. He searched my face with his dazzling eyes, before smiling and giving a gentle shrug. I arched an eyebrow, as I watched him curiously and wondered, what he was thinking that very moment. He chuckled, running a large hand threw his shimmering hair and sighed, loudly.

"I don't know. I haven't found her yet, but," he paused and ran his tongue along his bottom lip, then pressed them together, "I think I'll find her soon," he replied, huskily and smiled.

"And why do you think that?" I asked, stubbornly, hoping I could get the answer I wanted.

He chuckled, displaying his pearly whites. "Let's get outta here. I'm not in the mood to go to class," he mumbled, starting to walk towards the entrance doors only feet away.

"I - uhm, I can't just leave school. I've been gone for a while and I need to catch up. Plus, my mom would kill me if I skipped the whole day," I told him hoping he'd understand.

Deryk nodded and continued walking towards the entrance, not even leaving me a good-bye or even a glance back. Feeling completely insulted, I turned on my heel and walked towards my locker, only a few hallways away. The only thing besides Deryk leaving without even trying to get me to leave with him, worrying me right now, was getting my locker combination right and finding my way to class.