Update: This story has been discontinued. - I am terribly sorry. Your mother lied to you. She told you that you were unique, and that as a teenager you have a whole bunch of options you can choose from to determine who you want to be. She must have been high. Look, I'm going to tell you this honestly. Somewhere out there in this floating sphere of green and blue, there's a person who acts just like you. It's the combinations of different personalities - which eventually lead up to an actual human being - that makes us all unique. But it can't hurt to find out where your personality stems from, right? Wanna know who you are? I'll help you out. There are 36 students in my classroom. Which one are you?

Genevieve can't tell if her soulmate is a transcendentalist author who died one hundred and fifty years ago, or the person who is leaving his books for her to find.

*In major construction. Do not read unless you do not want to read the ending for a very long time until I get things figured out. Thanks!* I was just a hacker. Your average, seventeen-year-old, very sarcastic hacker. Well, average if you thought average meant living with your fried chicken obsessed uncle after your ex-secret agent parents mysteriously disappeared off the face of the Earth. Until that day. A simple business card from an odd boy claiming he needed a hacker for something of the utmost importance. Now? I’m working with the son of the director of the FBI to figure out who wants his father—and possibly us—dead. Not to mention not getting caught and totally not falling for him all while still trying to figure out where my parents are. As I said, nothing good could come of this.

for #TAYGETSTHEGAY Ray gets the nay-from everyone. Standing at 6'1-and looking 6'0 due to his inexplicably horrible posture-lanky, awkward, shy, and gay Ray Wood ponders why every male has no interest in him. If he works up the courage to ask one out their only response is a swift overlook of his body, a dissatisfied lip curl and the tilting back of their head, and an "I've already got a boyfriend, sorry." His best friend Taylor is prepared to help him out. "The problem, Ray, is that you do not get the gay," she explained, pacing around the room as a military commander would while Ray sat on his bed, both his eyebrows raised up slightly and his hazel eyes holding both amusement and interest. "That's quite concerning seeing as you are gay-but we'll get to that later. The basic thing you need to understand is that your friend Tay gets the gay, which in turn will help you, Ray, get the lay, instead of the nay. Understand?" "Did you prepare those rhymes before you came here?" " . . . Maybe."