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I woke up this morning feeling worse.

My head's pounding so hard I wondered if my brain's having a heavy metal concert, my nose runny like it suddenly discovered that it could be the second Niagara Falls, my vision woozy like it's a joke.

I groaned, and rolled off the bed to get ready and start my day. I know that I'm not exactly on the healthy side, but uhm . . . I guess it slipped my mind? The house was eerily silent-it always is, both mom and dad would be gone before sun up, and my younger sister would be out for a jog. Yep, that's right; my sister likes to stay fit, while I like to stay, well, asleep.

When I went downstairs I clutched the side of my head as the pounding grew. I decided to snatch a couple of granola bar before walking towards school. The school was just a fifteen-minute walk; no big deal, really. Except if the weather's chilly and you're kind of sick- it would be a big deal. Really. I dug my cold hands into my hoodie when the wind blew. My teeth chattered; just a bit more and you'll mistake it as a tambourine.

A motorcycle suddenly zoomed past me-maybe it's not so suddenly; maybe I'm just so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice its engine from afar. I rolled my eyes when I saw the black motor speed away. So cliché. Why don't they get a neon pink motorcycle or something? The thought had me chuckling, until I burst out laughing and coughing at the same time. Ew.

As soon as I calmed down, I continued my slow trek towards school.

"Psst. Hey." I looked around to find the source of the voice, and I noticed someone-a guy, definitely a guy-leaning against a black motorcycle. My eyes widened. What if he's a creep? I couldn't see his face due to the helmet obscuring his face. I turned away and fast-walked.

Oh god. What if he's going to drag me towards his motorcycle and tie me by my feet and drive around just for fun? I can already imagine the mucus and blood trail I'm going to leave behind. At least they'll find my body (or what remains) and give me a proper burial. Not the best mental images, ever.

I can hear the guy curse, and revved his engine. I breathe in a sigh of relief, thankful that he'll finally leave me alone. Or not.

He was driving his motor slowly, matching my pace. I instantly paled. What have I done now? I never really watched any horror or gory movies, so I don't know how to respond to this kind of situation.

So I did what any idiots would do: I whacked him with my hands. Although I know I resembled a fish out of water, at least that would show him. "LEAVE ME ALONE YOU CREEP!"

"The fu-" he raised both his arms from my blow. "Ma-ow! Maryssa-ow stop hitting me goddammit!" He removed his helmet, grabbed both my wrist and of course, stilled me with his intense stare. "It's me."

Lucca "The Intense-Eyed Guy" Easton.

"Oh. Hi there." I greeted as if I wasn't whacking him like a madwoman (or a fish) a few seconds ago. I can feel the tip of my ears reddening- I can feel my face flush in embarrassment.

When he didn't say anything (and when we remained in the same position), I looked up to see him smiling at me. "Hi there."

"You had me scared there!" I exclaimed and for some reason, we were still in that same position and I must say, I am getting quite comfortable.

He let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, I saw that." He answered, unconsciously drawing lazy circles on my wrists. "You hit like a baby, even my grandma's got a one hell of a punch than you."

Even though I am very comfortable, I took a step away from him, blushing and groaned. "What do you want?"

"Need a ride?"

Riding a motorcycle is a very very bad bad idea.

I staggered forwards as soon as I got off that death trap, clutching my head as I did so. Dramatic? Yes, it is. "Not the best decision ever." I muttered, when I felt nausea creep into me.

"Are you okay? You look at little green."

I turned to Lucca, who was looking at me, eyes filled with concern. Everything was swirling and together with the steady pounding in my head, it makes me hard to concentrate. "Just peachy, Easton."

"No, really. What's wrong?" he insisted. He set the helmet aside and went near me. "Are you not feeling well?"

Before I can answer him, I can feel my legs buckling beneath me and immediately fell in his arms.

The situation would be so romantic, if my nose weren't feeling Niagara Falls, no heavy-metal concert inside my head, no tambourine-like chattering.

Dang.​