*ALL RIGHTS RESERVED* Clarisse Hornitt is a nerd. Or a geek. But, not your typical nerd/geek, as she won't put up with bullshit and will promptly tell you how it is regardless to how it makes you feel. She manages to get into a physical altercation with a certain football player at her high school...and well...drops herself into a whole mess of trouble she'd never expected. *ALL RIGHTS RESERVED*

❝We were both just two messed up kids with pasts and the power to move forward.❞ Eric Wilson. He was gorgeous. He was the quarterback. He was smart. He was perfect. He was an addict. He didn’t want to be that person anymore, though, so when he moved across the country for college, he stopped...well, tried to. All Eric wanted to do was go to school and recover from heartbreaks that happened in high school. And then, like in most stories, he met a girl…

"Love is..." I explored my brain to find the most suitable word in my dictionary that could fit in the definition I was trying to say; the definition that could make the jerk, sitting opposite me with a smirk on his face, believe in 'love'. "Bullshit?" He offered with a huge arrogant smirk on his face and no matter how much I agreed with him on this particular matter, I couldn't agree. So, instead of nodding my head in agreement, I scowled at him. His smirk grew bigger and he leaned away from me, gazing at me with his piercing grey eyes. "Finding it hard to make me believe in love when you yourself don't believe in that shit, huh?" With his piercing grey gaze fixed on my every move, I realized that 'being the devil's cupid' was going to be a lot tougher than I had initially thought. (By the author of 'And We Meet Again')

"I'm not okay!" I yelled at him. "Okay?! I'm not okay." My chest rose up and down as I breathed heavily. It had been years since I had a break down, and I wasn't going to have one right now. "It's okay not to be okay," he whispered, walking closer to me. He caressed my cheek, trying to sooth me. I stared at him, pain filled my eyes. I was trying hard not to cry. I couldn't cry. That's not what I did. "It's okay to cry," he comforted. His eyes stared so hard into mine I felt like he was seeing into my soul. "Crying shows weakness, and I'm not weak," I told him, swallowing hard. "Sometimes crying is the strongest thing you can do. It just shows everyone else that you're just as human as they are." And right then and there I started sobbing. I had lost all control of my emotions, I cried like I hadn't since I was little. All those times I didn't cry when I wanted to poured out now. The walls I spent so long building to make them unbreakable, broke. Alana finds a thick orange envelope in her mailbox one day. No return address, no stamp or postage mark and it's not even addressed to her. Someone had just dropped the letter off in her mailbox. The only thing written on this envelope is "You might need this... or not." Alana takes it inside and begins to read the life story of a complete stranger. The life story of someone trying to find their place in this big scary world. © Somethingtrue 2013. All rights reserved.