• I could feel the shock waves as my racket hit the speeding ball. I grunted and watched the little green blur sail up and then down, right on my side of the court.

    "Damn." I said under my breath.

    I sighed and jogged over to the bench. Plopping down, I took a giant swig of water from the pink waterbottle that was sitting next to me.

    My name is Trixie May King. I am eight-teen years old and I live alone. My parents kicked me out not too long ago right after I peirced my nose and belly button. I don't blame them.

    I already peirced my eyebrow and tounge by myself. But what really drove them mad was probably my very long, dark hair getting cut and streaked with red. Now I look like some sort of Juvi escape. I like that. It means that I seem intimidating and most guys will stay away from me. Apparently not this guy.

    He's right there, behind the fence, staring at me. Again. He's a tall, dark, mysterious, model type guy that's absolutley gorgeous. He's been watching me for a week now. I'm starting to think he's some creep who's trying to attack me. But then I see him smirking and what looks like chuckling when I chuck a tennis ball his way. I haven't spoke to him and I don't really plan on it. He's still creepy.

    I shook my head and stuffed my racket in its case. I strapped it around my chest and stood, drinking heavily from my waterbottle. I cast another look at the weird guy and stuck my tounge out at him. He laughed and slipped his sunglasses on. I narrowed my eyes at him before tossing my hair and opening the gate.

    I walked down the line of cars, jingling my keys. I stopped and whistled at my sleek car. It was a Ford Mustang Cobra and I absolutley loved it. I couldn't help whistling at it because it was so cool. I unlocked it and jumped when I looked up.

    He was there.

    I looked back at where he was standing and then back at him.

    "How'd you... I trailed off, giving him an odd look.

    He chuckled and said simply, "It's a short way round."

    I gave him a half smile and then gave him a then-why-are-you-right-next-to-my-car-look.

    He chuckled again and said, "I wanted to get to know you. I'm Mark Rodrigez. What's your name?"

    I eyed him again and said slowly, "I'm Trixie King. So why do you watch me play tennis?"

    His smile widened. "I like to watch you. When I came here on Monday I heard there was a weird looking gril playing tennis. I got interested."

    I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow. "So, I'm a weird looking girl who caught your eye playing tennis? That's nice to know." I said, starting to get into my car.

    He shook his head. "No, no, no. I meant that you are good looking and the manager thought you were an odd looking tennis player."

    I froze and looked up at him, skeptically. "You think I'm good looking? Right, and now I suppose you discovered the first flying pig. No one likes me. I made myself this way so people would stay away from me. So far it's worked. My parents have finally kicked me out."

    He cast me a look of surprise. "Your parents kicked you out? You made yourself like that on purpose?" He shook his head. "There's more than one way to make yourself more... unopen." he said.

    I sucked on my bottom lip, looking away. He really was good looking. And he like me! And he's not an emo, bisexual creep! Yay! I smiled and asked, "You wanna come over? Maybe you can tell me some of those ways."

    He laughed and nodded. "Alright. I suppose I can."

    I smiled and got into the driver's seat. "Cool." I said.