{Livvie}

I was working the concession stand at my local theater. You could enter your name and a picture of you to win the beauty pageant that was being hosted at the theater. I hadn't entered. Who would be silly enough to vote me?

"The winner of this years annual beauty pageant," the announcer cleared his throat. "Olivia Wellson!"

My ears perked at the sound of my name. _That's me. _I switched the open sign to temporarily closed. I ran out from behind the stand and into the crowd. I found the stairs and ran up.

Panting I said, "that's me. I'm Olivia."

The announcer looked down at the picture, than at me. He nodded, as if approving I didn't steal an identity. He handed over the microphone.

I cleared my throat. " id like to thank all of you who voted for me." cheers erupted throughout the audience. " but, it's kind of weird. I didn't enter this pageant." scilence spread amongst the crowd.

I felt the microphone being taken from my hand. " Olivia Wellson everyone!" Once again, the crowd erupted with cheers.

The lobby was full of people talking about the pageant. I was thinking about the pageant myself. Except, I was thinking about how I was entered. It didn't really matter to me. It just kind of felt like one of those unsolved mysterys. 

"Congrats Olivia." 

The voice sent chills down my spine. 

"Didn't know beauty pageants were your thing." he walked towards the front of me. I couldn't make out his facial expressions. 

"I didn't either," I responded with a slight laugh. 

I could see the slight smirk on his face. Then if hit me. _Noah. _
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I was speechless. "Noah, you..." 

"Yes," he interrupted. "I signed you up for the pageant." 

"But why?" 

"Because, your too pretty."

I blushed. 

" what's up with this mushy talk? What happened to being enemies?" I whined. 

He took a step closer to me. My heart was racing. He smirked. 

"Oh were still enemies alright," he said. 

My face must have done something. 

" I love playing with your emotions," he laughed. 

My face turned red hot again. _DARN IT! He really does know how to play with my emotions. _
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Noah smirked, as if to say, ** I told you. **
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"What do you want?" I demanded. 

"You," he said. Super nanchilant. 

Just like that my heart was racing again. 

"I really know how to make you blush," he smirked. 

"No you don't!" I exclaimed. 

He was standing directly in front of me. 

"Well then maybe this will."  he leaned in and kissed me. Not just a peck. Full on kissed me! Let me release that one more time. Noah Walker, my all time biggest enemy, is kissing me! 

He's very passionate with this kiss. I'm still to shocked to move. Once I regain controll of my body, I start kissing him back. I wrap my rams around his neck and kiss him back. _Am I sane?! Am I ok?! Why am I kissing Noah Walker?! And why does it feel so good?! _
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He pulls away. "Like I said, I really know how to make you blush." 

(If you'd like me to make another/part two say yesin the feedback!)

What if I just kept walking? That's what I asked myself today. Maybe it would be for the better. Everytime I walked into that house my stepmom reminds me of every bad thing I've done. And even though it was her pure lazyness that caused the accident, she still blames me. Thats the main reason I don't want to go back. That house is a reminder of his missing presence.

I was sixteen, just learning to drive. My dad had remarried after his divorce with my mom, who I haven't seen since. He remarried 2 months after claiming he was happier. He was. He children on the other hand, were the complete opposite. He remarried a woman named Margo, who thought she was the boss of the house. A month later it was my sixteenth birthday. Margo pushed me to get my drivers license that day. I hadn’t thought anything of it, I thought she was just eager to get to watch me drive for the first time. I was wrong. A week after I had gotten my license Margo put my little brothers carseat in my car and demanded I take him to school every day. I listened. But one day, I had overslept and I was very tired. I tried to tell Margo to take him to school herself, so I could walk. My house was was within walking distance of the high school, so the only reason I drove my car was to drop my brother off at school. Margo was yelling at me, expecting me to listen to her and take my brother to school. I did. I was practically falling asleep at the wheel. My eyes had drifted closed as I heard the loud ringing of a truck horn. The next few hours were a blur. I remember waking up in the hospital bed, my stepmother right beside me. I thought she was there to comfort me, as I had been in a car crash just a few hours earlier. Instead, she was screaming at me. The pain in my head was growing as she continued yelling at me. Now, I don’t remember exactly what she said, but it was all about how it was my fault my brother was dead. I was shocked. The tears flowed out of my eyes like waterfalls. My brother was dead. The realization hit hard. I only ended up with a concussion and a few broken bones. As for my brother, he ended up without a life. Now, it wasn’t really my fault. But in my heart I still belive that it wasn’t Margo’s fault, it was mine.

I hated when my mind trailed back to this memory. It was a memory that was hard to forget when my stepmom was always bringing it up. My dad hasn’t looked at me the same since that day. That was part of the reason I wanted to leave. With one parent out of my life and another who hates me for killing their child, what do I have left for me? I have been changed since that day too. I stopped using my car. I just walk to and from school. As I was walking today, I stopped right by my turn to get home. What if I never went back? Well, I guess we’re going to find out. I hung my head again and walked past my street. I didn’t know where I was headed, but it wasn’t home. I plan on sleeping out at the park. I still had a few hours of daylight remaining. Instead of heading towards the park, I walked towards the graveyard. I had that place memorized by now. I walked straight towards my brothers gravestone. When I arrived, I noticed the flowers I placed last visit were wilted. The picture of us on Christmas when I was thirteen was still tightly taped on the stone. I sat down and got a better look at the picture. My brothers wide smile was pointed directly at the camera. I was so happy in that photo. If only I could recreate that photo now. Now, I don’t exactly know how this awful thought creeped into my head but, I wish it were Margo in that car with me, not my brother. I wish it were her dead. I just sat, my back against the headstone. The tears rolled down my face as I sobbed into my hands. My thoughts replayed in my head I felt awful but, part of me felt better. I wish it were Margo dead, not my brother.