Take My Heart (A PLL Nolison Fanfiction)

One: Welcome Home...Sort of

"Oh my god, we're here. I can't believe we're finally here."

My brother, Jason, stuck his head out of the window of our family's black Nissan Rogue and let the wind blow his golden hair back. His eyes had just about popped out of his sockets when we pulled up to Rosewood High, our old school. We had moved to Paris, France, about two and a half years ago when our father's job got relocated. But, when the chemical company was closed and sold, we decided to move back to Rosewood, Pennsylvania. Nobody ever comes back to Rosewood, but we had. It was always filled with creeps, stalkers, and pedophiles: the kinds of people who always went after me. But we were back, and I was determined to make drastic changes in my life. I was beautiful and I knew it, I just didn't try to flaunt it as much as some girls.

Jason and I were still horribly jet-lagged from the twelve-hour plane ride to the United States the night before, but it was the first day of tenth grade for me, and twelfth grade for him...we just couldn't miss it.

As soon as I put the car into PARK, Jason was already jumping out and slamming the passenger seat door, almost forgetting his backpack in his hurry.

I began to yell to him, "be careful today, don't forget to-," but Jason had already caught up with three of his friends, Mike, Toby, and Caleb. "Whatever", I mumbled as I walked around to the trunk and pulled out the Vera Bradley bag my mother had gotten me as a welcome home gift.

I had cut off communication with anyone I knew from the States as soon as we got to Europe, I hardly remembered anyone. I began walking up the steps to the glass front doors of the school when I heard a vaguely familiar voice behind me.

"Ali?" the voice said.

I swung around to see Aria Montgomery, one of my four best friends from before I left.

"Ohmigod, it's you!" She extended her arms and suddenly I felt like my guts were about to gush out of my nose and ears. "How in the world have you been?" she asked. "How many cute French boys did you hook up with? Tell me everything!" she squealed. Aria was the 'perky' one of our little group we had once upon a time.

I told her about the Eiffel Tower and the houses and the heated floors that we had in France, but she only wanted to hear about the boys. I explained to her that French dudes weren't really my thing.

"So where do you and the girls usually meet up?" I asked her, but apparently I had missed something.

"Alison..." she started, "after you left, we all split up. You were the glue that held us all together. Without you, we had no leader."

I guess I had never really thought about it that way, but she was right. I had chosen them and they had chosen me.

"That's going to change, I'm sure of it," I pulled the page out of my bedazzled denim jeans pocket that had my locker combination on it, and twisted the lock. Just then a girl walked by.

"Welcome back, Alison," she said with a slight grin.

I thanked her and turned to Aria. "Do I know her?"

"Mona Vanderwaal ring a bell?" Aria mimicked ringing a church bell.

I almost choked. "That's Mona? As in Loser Mona?" Loser Mona was the girl you could laugh at and she'd laugh with you, not realizing it was her you were laughing it. She was a clown to everyone, especially my old girl group.

Aria nodded, "that's her."

"And the girl behind her? Don't tell me...Hanna?"

Before I had moved, Hanna Marin was the fat girl in the group. Her parents had divorced and from then on, she ate her feelings. Now? She was the school's skinniest and most beautiful girl...Rosewood's it-girl, and ex-Loser Mona. Of course, I didn't know then how she had gotten to be so skinny. But she's over that habit now.

"Ali, things have changed. I'm so happy you're back, but it's not the same anymore," Aria whispered. "I'll see you around." And she left me alone at my locker.

*TWO CLASS PERIODS LATER*

All day the classes had just been giving handouts about what we needed for that class and the classroom expectations, blah blah blah... I was walking back to my locker to put my chemistry stuff away when I heard someone playing the guitar in the band room. I couldn't help but listen, they were playing one of my favorite old songs, Smoke on the Water.

I peeked in the window of the wooden door to see who was playing and I saw a guy propped up on a stool playing a tan and red printed acoustic guitar. Boy, was he gorgeous. He had beautiful medium blue eyes that shined when he reset his fingers on the strings of the guitar and deep brown hair that was perfectly combed up in the front.

I was getting ready to walk away when he looked up at me and gave me this horrible glare. "What are you lookin' at?" he yelled.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You're very good at guitar."

"Yeah, and I'd like to keep it to myself. Now get lost!" He stomped up, packed up his guitar and stormed past me, still eying me with that glare.

Geez, you'd think someone with that kind of talent would accept a compliment.

I thought he might've been the rudest person I'd ever met. I thought...