I'm not a nosey person, but I couldn't help but spy on the gorgeous blond boy moving into the house across the street from me. Peeking through the curtains of my bedroom window I watched him grab a pair of boxing gloves from the trunk of a white Mercedes and carry them to the open garage. He looked to be around my age, sixteen, and wore yellow athletic shorts with a blue tank top that showed off his muscles. Without warning he looked up at my window. I dropped the curtain as if it were a hot coal and took a step back. BBAAAIIIIRRRIINNNGGG!! I jumped, my heart nearly stopping as my alarm clock blared. It was nine o'clock.

"What?" I groaned turning it off. "This was supposed to be set for eight!"

I dropped the clock haphazardly back down on the side table. It slipped and landed on my foot. I howled in pain and cursed the clock.

"Lilah?" said my dad outside my door. "Are you okay?"

I limped to the door and yanked it open. There was amusement in his eyes as he stood there looking at me with his not-yet-combed brown hair sticking up in all directions.

"No," I grumbled, rushing past him toward the bathroom. "I'm late for my run."

"But it's Saturday," he said. "I thought you didn't run on weekends."

"I don't, but I skipped yesterday because I went shopping with Mom and Veronica."

"Shopping? For clothes?"

I looked back at him with a half smile. "Yeah. For school."

"You used to hate shopping."

"That was before I lost the weight equivalent to that of a first grader. Of course I hated shopping. It's depressing when nothing looks good on you."

"Oh, come on. You didn't look that bad."

"Yeah," I said wrinkling my nose and nodding. "I kinda did."

"Well, you've come a long way, Kiddo," he said. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad."

He continued down the hall as I closed the bathroom door.

It wasn't just my weight that stopped me from going shopping, it was my sister Veronica's popular friends. Veronica is beautiful, blond, and used to be a cheerleader. At first I liked going to the mall with her. It made us close. But hanging out with her meant being around her phony cheerleader friends. They were nowhere near as pretty as Veronica was, but they acted as if they were. Hanging with her boosted their popularity and they used it to their advantage. They looked down their noses at me and whispered to each other about me when Veronica wasn't looking.

Eventually I called it quits on the shopping, but before I did, a handsome and very popular boy in my grade had seen me at the mall with Veronica and developed a crush on her. His name was Trey Jacobs and he was confident to the point of being cocky. He started sitting with me and my best friend, Daisy at lunch to talk about Veronica. Although he didn't say it outright, I knew he liked her by all the questions he asked me about her. At first I liked the attention I got from him. Being seen with him made the other kids pay more attention to us. Daisy was ecstatic about the idea of becoming popular, but it reminded me of Veronica's fake friends and made me uneasy. I didn't have to worry for too long because the inevitable happened. Veronica found a boyfriend.

"Please don't tell Trey!" said Daisy. "If he finds out Veronica has a boyfriend he'll stop hanging with us. He won't need you anymore."

"I have to," I said. "He'll be mad if I don't."

"He might be mad at you anyway! If he finds out, just say you didn't know."

"I can't do that, Daisy! That's lying! And you know I'm a bad liar."

"Can't you just TRY to lie?"

"No!"

She rolled her eyes blowing air out of her nose like an angry gorilla.

"I can't talk to you right now," she said, getting up. "I'll see you later."

"Daisy, don't be like this. Where are you going?"

She didn't answer and walked away.

"What's up with her?" said Trey as he sat down beside me.

"Oh, hey Trey," I said. "She's just…never mind." I took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you."

"Okay, well, spit it out," he said unwrapping his sandwich.

"It's Veronica. She…she has a boyfriend now."

He stopped what he was doing. "A boyfriend?" His face began to redden. "Why? Didn't you tell her anything about me?"

"Well, no. I didn't…"

"Hello! Why didn't you? You were supposed to tell her who I am and all the good stuff about me! Why do you think I've been hanging out with you? Did you think we were friends?"

His outburst startled me. I recoiled.

"Did you tell her I'm mature for my age and…and hot?" he said.

"Excuse me? What?"

He growled in frustration. "Are you dumb? You were supposed to help me out!" He pulled at his blond hair and groaned. "Now she has a boyfriend and it's too late!"

My forehead burned in anger. "She's in high school," I said. "She doesn't go for KIDS like you."

He glared at me with icy blue eyes. "I'm older than all the kids in our grade. I was held back a year for…for family reasons. Anyway, who are you to talk to me like that? At least I HAVE girls that like me. I don't know ANY guy that would go for you."

His words stung, but my feathers were ruffled. "Those girls aren't even in Veronica's league and you know it," I said. "You'll never get a girl like her. The fact is, you're not any more mature than the rest of us AND you're not as good looking as you think you are.

He blinked and took a step back. "Your words don't hurt me, Jabba."

I could feel the tears forming in my eyes but I fought them back. "I did you a favor by telling you she had a boyfriend. And for putting up with your stupid questions about her. You could've at least thanked me."

He scoffed. "Thanks for nothing, Loser. I didn't need your help anyway. I don't need anybody's help." He turned and stormed off.

I thought I had seen a flicker of sadness in his expression. I closed my eyes and shook my head. No. I'm not going to feel sorry for him. He's a user, just like Veronica's friends and all the other popular kids. I hated them for putting me down and making me feel bad about myself.

Trying to change them would be like trying to change a lion into an herbivore. It just wasn't going to happen. The only person I could change was myself and by doing so, their perception of me. I wasn't going to join them. I was going to be better than them. It was going to take commitment and I was ready.

I began to work out after school, running, eating healthy, and using Veronica's workout equipment.

Before I lost any weight, Trey had taken to calling me fat names when no one was close enough to hear. I didn't tell Daisy what happened between me and Trey because I didn't want anyone to know. It was too painful. She managed to remain on Trey's good side, but she was by no means popular.

In freshman year I had lost some weight, but the harassment from Trey got worse. He bumped me in the hall, tripped me, threw things at me, and did various other things to annoy me, all without anyone noticing anything unusual. In that manner he was talented, I'll give him that. Daisy never saw any of it and I didn't tell her. At the end of freshman year, the harassment subsided and stopped. By that time, Veronica was a senior and became prom queen.

By the end of sophomore year, I had a slim athletic body and started shopping with Veronica again whenever she was home from fashion school. My baggy clothes were replaced by clothes that accentuated my new body. I wasn't popular, but that was never my goal. I just wanted to be left in peace.

I washed up and tied my hair in a ponytail. It was a warm summer morning and my skin was already starting to get sticky. I threw on a pair of pink running shorts, a sport bra, and a white tank top before heading downstairs.

Dad was at the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating pancakes. Mom was frying eggs at the stove, her blond hair pulled back in a clip. I poured myself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the counter.

"Are you sure you want to run today?" Dad said to me. "It's going to be 103 degrees out."

"I know. I'll be back before it gets too hot."

"You should rest today," he said. "You deserve it."

"Nah, I don't need a rest."

Mom turned around and lifted an eyebrow. "Is there a boy you want to impress when you get back to school?"

"What? No! Where did that come from?" I rolled my eyes. "I don't think the boys at school are into me. They probably still think of me as a tomboy with baggy clothes IF they remember me at all."

"Well, there's no rush to find a boyfriend," said Dad. "You don't have to be like your sister..."

"I'm not trying to be like her." People always assumed that, but it wasn't true. "I just wanted to lose weight and feel better about myself, that's all." I looked at my watch. "It's getting late. I have to go." I turned to leave.

"Oh, don't forget to water the front yard before you go," said Mom. "It'll be real quick. Just three minutes."

"Okay," I said suppressing a groan.

I went outside to stretch, then unraveled the hose from the rack. The men from the moving company were lifting a couch off the truck. They kept glancing over at me. Perverts. I looked over at the house hoping to see the blond boy. When I didn't see him, I took my time watering the lawn. He had to come out sometime. The lawn was getting soaked and muddy.

After what seemed like a long time I realized I was being ridiculous waiting to see this boy I didn't know. I needed to get running. Just as I started toward the faucet, the boy emerged from the house. I stopped and stared at him, my heart beginning to thump. He opened the trunk of the car and lifted a pair of dumbbells out of the trunk. I could see his muscles flex as he carried them to the garage. He turned his head to look at me, but didn't smile. I quickly looked away.

"Andreas!" I heard a man call from the house.

"Yeah?" he said. "I'm in the garage, Dad!"

A bead of sweat trickled down my back. It was getting late and the temperature was rising fast. What am I doing standing here wasting time? Soon, the California sun would be bearing down on me. I dropped the hose and hurried to turn the water off. No time to roll it up.

The boy and his dad began to argue in front of their garage. I paused at the faucet, listening. Huh? The man was speaking a foreign language. Not Spanish or Italian. They were blond, so maybe German? Scandinavian? Is Scandinavian a language? The boy was arguing back in English without an accent.

I stared at them. I really shouldn't be eavesdropping. What if they see me? I tore my eyes away and quickly turned the water off. Lilah, you need to mind your own business and just run! Get going! I ran across the lawn and didn't see the hose until it was too late. It looped over the top of my foot and held it down as my body continued to move forward. I was falling as if in slow motion but couldn't stop myself. My hands went out to brace my fall, but they slipped on the wet grass. I did a perfect face plant on the soggy lawn and mud. Ouf! I came up spitting grass and dirt.

"Ugh! Dammit!" I looked at the hose and kicked at it. It felt good to get my aggression out, but I stopped when I noticed that the boy and his dad had ceased arguing. I could feel them looking at me, but I didn't dare look back. Oh my god! I fell on my face in front of the hot boy! This was definitely not a good first impression.

I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, and as gracefully as I could rinsed myself off with the hose. My shoes were now soaking wet and I didn't have another pair. Fantastic. I rolled up the hose vowing never to forget to roll it up again.

I walked to the sidewalk. The boy and his dad were arguing in lower tones, but stopped again as I came closer. I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me.

"Good morning," said the man. He barely had an accent.

I looked up in surprise. "Good morning."

The man was smiling, but the boy glared at me. Heat rose to my cheeks. I looked away and started to run. My shoes made loud, squishy sounds with each step I took. I grimaced with embarrassment. The image of the boy's face was emblazoned in my brain. Even angry, he was beautiful. Andreas was his name.