Chapter 1.

The boy looked both ways before darting across the street, rain crashing down onto his jacket. He was already soaked in the cold rain water. He wanted to be home by now, cozy in his warm house, but he had a dentition he had to serve. Who knew teachers would freak out so bad over having a hat on? He sighed, water slashing at his feet. The boy hated this town, the fact that it was so divided, one side was the rich kids with their pretty toys, wonderful lives and money, then, there was his side. The bad side, run down dirty houses, people striving to live, hard times and nothingness. He used to be part of the good side, until his father died in the car accident, then all was lost.
"Christian!"
He herd being called from the other side of the street, he looked up to see Claire, a girl from the good side who went to his school. She usually greeted him in the mornings with a smile and bid him farewell with a hug or a wave. He'd had a crush on her since the beginning of his high school years.
"What?" He asked her, watching as she rushed across the street.
She was also soaked, her stringy blonde hair was lifeless unlike usual, how it was usually locked into tight curls.
She smiled, stopping in front of him, "Why are you out here?"
Christian looked down ashamed, "Detention."
"Oh," She sighed, "No more of those! You've had three in the past month!"
"I know, I know!" He grumbled, pushing past the girl.
She spun on her heels, "Wait!" She called, following him closely.
They walked quietly, his heart racing. They were near his house now. But if he just let her go she might get hurt. He was confused on what to do.
"Let's turn around" He breathed, "Like, now."
"Why?" she asked, looking at him.
He sighed, "It's not safe for you here."
"Why not? I'm a human too!"
"Claire!" He stopped, facing her, "This isn't the goody goody side of town!"
She looked at him, "Christian..."
"Go home!" he yelled, turning away from her.
She was quiet for a second, then grabbed hid hood, yanking it down and grabbing his light brown hair, throwing him to the ground.
"I'm not leaving you!" She yelled, picking him up by his collar.
He was quiet for a second, but stumbled a bit until he was standing straight, "Okay, fine."
He grabbed her hand tightly, pulling her toward the tiny green house, the paint chipping. It wasn't the worse, but compared to hers it was something to be ashamed of. He pulled her inside the house, it was clean and smelled good, nothing was disorderly or dirty. She looked around at the walls, covered in art. He yanked her to his room and shut the door.
"Happy?" He asked, looking at her.
She nodded, "Quite."
He sighed, pulling off the wet coat, he knew his shirt was still soaked, but he couldn't gather the courage to pull it off. He was hiding something from her, he wasn't quite ready to show her. She watched him, knowing already that he was hiding something, she saw it on his face.
"What?" She asked, stepping closer.
He jumped back, "What?" He smiled nervously.
"Change your shirt, you're soaked."
He stood looking at her, "No."
"Change your shirt, you're going to get sick."
"No I'm not."
"Liar," She said, grabbing a shirt from the bed and tossing it to him. He caught it effortlessly, "Change."
He glared up at her, yanking the dark blue shirt off to reveal the scar across his chest, it was dark, from a very deep wound. Claire starred, walking closer and gently touching the tan scar, her hand was cold against his warm chest.
She looked up, "What happened?"
Christian looked away, closing his amber colored eyes, "Car accident."
She glances down to see the scars that painted his wrists, some fresher, some old and almost faded, "Christian."
"Now you know."
She gently grabbed his arm, tracing her finger over the tiny cuts, the large cuts, the old and new. He didn't cringe or pull away. He kept his eyes on her as she studied his arm.
"Why'd you do this to yourself?"
He scoffed, "Do you not see how my life is?" He pulled away from her.
"Then make it better."
He looked at her, an unimpressed look on his face, "Claire, I'm 17, I can't do anything."
Claire looked down, "I know there has to be something you can do."
"Not that I care about."
Christian pulled the shirt on, it fit him snugly, warming his cold skin.
"Don't cut anymore."
He looked up at the girl, her blonde hair curling into the spirals he loved so much, she was looking down at her own wrist. He stepped closer to her, looking at her untouched wrist, he gently grabbed it, yanking her tiny frame closer, hugging her tightly.
"I can't."
Claire pushed away, "What the hell do you mean you can't?" She snapped
Christian sighed, running a hand through his still damp hair, "I can't stop, it's how I know I'm alive. That I can still feel pain."
She raised a hand, slapping his face as hard as she could with a cloud clap. She scowled, "You idiot! You felt that pain? Right? You don't need those cuts to prove you still feel, that you're not numb! How stupid are you Christian? You're really stupid!"
The girl stepped away, yanking the door open, looking back to say she was leaving. She hurried out, anger pulsing through her veins.
"Claire," Christian called, "Wait!"
He darted to her, grabbing her sleeve and spinning her to him, "What do you want?" She snapped.
"Don't go."
She scoffed, "Why not? You don't care what I have to say!"
"I do!" He insisted, " I care. "
"If you care, you'd stop."
"I want to stop, but what if I do it again, I've tried to stop Claire, I've tried!"
"Right," She rolled her eyes, pulling away from his grasp, "I so believe you!"
"Claire stop," He whispered as she turned and walked away, "Stop!"
She glared back, her eyes cold, the loving warmpth gone from them. She was over with trying, she felt as if there was nothing she could do or say to get him to stop his behavior, not for the better of herself, but for him. She didn't want to see him hurt himself over and over like he was. She couldn't stand it, the memory of the scars ingraved into her mind.
"I'll stop. For you."
She stopped, eyes still cold, "Why should I believe you?"
He bit his bottom lip, forcing the words through his lips, "Because I love you."
She starred at him, at a loss for words. She tried to talk, but the shock of the three words was too much, the only thing she could mutter was ,"You love me?"
He nodded, eyes locked on hers, "I do."
She slowly walked next to him, heart racing, "Prove it."
"I'll stop."
"Show me another way," She looked up at him, "Seal it."
He smiled, gently grabbing her hand, pressing his lips to hers softly. The door opened quietly, in walked a woman with long black hair and green eyes,
"What the hell?" She blurted
The two jumped away from the kiss, both bright red, Claire starring down at her shoes, Christian looking the opposite direction. The woman laughed, patting her son's shoulder as she laid her purse down.
"Young love," She grinned.