Something sharp was pressing into the soft skin on my stomach. The stinging pain triggered a memory within me. I remembered that feeling. It was hard not to recognize. It was definitely a knife. No, it had to be more than one knife. Someone was pressing multiple knives into my stomach; not deep enough to cause damage, but deep enough for it to start to tingle. Panic welled up in me. My eyes shot open and I wasn't surprised when I came face-to-face with Shawn and Mikey. Immediately I reached for Chris, but found he wasn't lying next to me anymore. 

"Hello, Holly," Shawn started, a grin I remembered far too well on his chiseled face. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" 

My mind was racing. Mikey and Shawn should've still been in jail. I knew for a fact they were in the prison for an extended length of time for attempted murder. How had they managed to escape? And where was Chris? How could he not have noticed them coming in? Well, that was a little bit hypocritical. I hadn't noticed either. 

"Cat got your tongue?" Mikey guessed, his eyes narrowing into evil slits. 

When I tried to respond, I found my voice wasn't working. In fact, nothing was working- my body was suddenly immobile. The knife tips continued to push into my tender skin and then pull back in a constant motion. Mikey mumbled something to Shawn and they both retracted their weapons. Relief washed through me. At least for a brief second. 

"I might as well continue what I started before," Mikey mused, examining the honed tip of his blade. "I hope it hurts." 

He raised the knife over his head, intending for a deep plunge. I struggled to gain control of my body but found my attempts completely useless. Scream after scream rose in my throat, but nothing was released. My vocal cords refused to work. Just like the time before, time was thrown into slow motion as the blade was thrust down, ready to bite my skin. Just before it reached my skin, time resumed to normal pace. My eyes snapped shut. The blade touched down, pricking the skin. This time I managed to scream. 

Sitting up, the pain worsened and I screamed again, struggling to throw the comforters off of me. As my hands gripped the edge of them, the pain suddenly disappeared. I threw them off me, my eyes opening and searching for the wound on my stomach. Instead of blood and gore, I found my hand covering the logo of the shirt Chris had put on my last night. 

"Holly?" 

The familiar voice registered in my head and I turned my head slowly to look at Chris. Confusion swept through me. "Chris...?" 

His worried eyes searched my face and then swept over my body. "What's wrong? Why are you screaming?" 

"Wasn't Shawn...? A knife...? Mikey?" I mumbled, unable to form a full question. My eyes scoured the room, looking for any signs of the two predators. Everything was the way it had been when I went to bed. I returned my gaze to Chris, my heart gradually going back to its normal pace. 

Chris's arms shot around me and he roughly pulled me to his hard chest. "Holly... It's okay, no one is here." 

"But what about the prickling on my skin?" 

"That was Milkshake kneading your chest before you flung him halfway across the room. Shawn and Mikey are in jail, remember?" 

Embarrassment washed over me when I realized I'd been dreaming. My arms snaked their way around Chris's waist. "I'm sorry. It was just a dream. I guess I was kind of half-asleep and half-awake." 

"Don't apologize," he scolded quietly. "I should be the one saying sorry. I didn't realize you had nightmares about them." 

"I don't usually," I murmured, pressing my face into his smooth shoulder. "It hasn't happened in at least a month." 

He kissed the top of my head. "You should have told me." 

I shook my head. "I didn't want you to feel bad." 

"Well I feel worse now," he returned in a gruff tone. "You'd think that... scar on your stomach was enough of a memory of that accident? Now you have to have nightmares? I want to go to the prison and punch them in the face now." 

"You can call it ugly," I told him, guessing the reason for why he'd hesitated before saying scar. "It is ugly." 

"No, it's not," he said sharply. 

"Yes it is." 

He gently pried my arms from around him and pulled away so that I could see into his penetrating gaze. "I hardly notice it's there." 

My lips turned down into a frown. He hardly noticed it was there? Yeah, right. And I hardly noticed the way the little dimple on his left cheek would appear when he smirked. Irritated, I reached the bottom of the t-shirt I was wearing and yanked it far enough up so that the smooth, pale scar on the soft skin of my stomach could be seen. "You hardly notice that?" I demanded, pressing my finger to ugly blemish on my skin.  

He made a face, closing his hand over mine and trying to pull the clothing back over it. "Holly, stop." 

"Will you hardly notice it during the summer if we go to the beach and I wear a bikini?"  

His eyes lit up, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Well if you wear a bikini I'll probably be too preoccupied to notice it." 

"I know it's there, Chris," I stated flatly, tensing the muscles in my arm so he couldn't pull it back down. "I prefer if you don't ignore it." 

An exasperated expression flashed on his face. "I'm not ignoring it." 

"Yes you are!" 

"No, I'm not." 

My cheeks puffed out in irritation. "Oh yeah? Then why haven't you looked at it once?" 

His gaze turned from the corner of the room to my eyes. They smoldered, a stormy look crossing them. "I don't like looking at it-" 

"Ha-" 

"And it's not because it's ugly," he finished firmly. The hand that wasn't holding mine traveled to my stomach, where he traced the scar with the rough side of his thumb. It tickled, and I squirmed under his touch. The corners of his lips lifted up in amusement. "I bet you know the reason why I don't want to look at it." 

I blinked at him. "Because it's ugly-" 

He lightly slapped my stomach. "No. The only reason I don't like to look at it is because it reminds me of the time you got hurt because of me and I was helpless to stop it. I don't like that feeling, Holly." 

"Oh," I said lamely, lowering my gaze. That wasn't what I expected. Now I felt like an ass. "You shouldn't worry about that. That was my fault anyway-" 

He tsked, shifting his body so that he was kneeling over me. The mattress of that sight sunk down, causing my body to tilt to the right at an angle. Chris's umber hair hung in his face, hiding his expression from me. I waited a moment, anticipating the moment he reprimanded me for saying that incident was my fault. "Chris?" I said after a moment, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Is something wrong?" 

"That wasn't your fault," he told me in a resolute tone. 

I smiled at his reaction. It was just like him. "But it really was my fault- what are you doing?" 

He started moving his head closer to my body, but he was lowering it to my stomach, not my head, as he usually would do for a kiss. The muscles in my stomach tightened in anticipation, ready for a head-butt, or the like. Instead, he did something totally unexpected. He blew a raspberry on my stomach. My eyes flew open in shock. 

"Chris!" I cried, attempting to shove his head away. 

My actions had no effect. He pressed his lips to my skin and did it again, making me writhe under the touch. The more I struggled to get away from him, the more he continued doing it. Eventually I started laughing. "Seriously, stop!" I demanded, trying to catch my breath. "Chris! Chris! Mr. Heywood!" 

"Mr. Heywood?" he repeated, pulling his head away for a split-second. "I think that deserves another one..." 

"Please!" I begged, tears starting to form at my eyes from laughing too hard. "Stop it!" 

Now he started laughing, finally pulling away. I glowered at him as heat rose to my cheeks as his smug stare. A groan of disgust left my lip as he swiped his hand over my stomach, smearing in the slobber his raspberries had left there. After a moment I shoved his hand away, yanking my shirt over the bare patch of skin. He continued to look complacent. 

"You're disgusting," I finally declared. 

A short bark of laughter left his lips. "Am I?" 

"Who does that to people anymore?" I complained, making a face. "My mom used to do that to me when I was like one!" 

He shrugged. "Your reaction was worth it." 

"I need to take another shower now to get your germs off me." 

Before I could blink, he face was in front of mine. An eyebrow was cocked questioningly. "I was under the impression you liked my germs." 

I pressed myself further into his pillow. "Well..." 

Efficiently cutting off my retort, he pressed his lips to mine, giving me a sweet kiss. My body melted and I pulled his head closer to mine, earning a smirk from him. The minty taste of his toothpaste was still lingering from his earlier brush. It made me smile that we had used the same flavor this morning. 

"I'm hungry," he informed me, pulling away. 

I shook my head, trying to pull him back. "Wait, just a little more-" 

He gently pushed me back. "No. If you really have to take a shower, go take one. Otherwise you can help me in the kitchen." 

"I can help," I told him moodily, pushing myself into a sitting position. 

"Oh, come on, Holly. Maybe I should stop kissing you so often. You're getting spoiled." 

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Spoiled? We're a couple! We're supposed to-" 

He chuckled, pressing a slim finger to my lips. "Shh, I'm kidding Holly. Geez. No need to get so defensive about it." 

"I hate you," I muttered, pulling his finger away from my mouth. 

"I hate you too," he replied, quickly kissing the tip of my nose. 

After a moment more of lying on the soft bed I finally forced myself off it, rolling to my feet. The carpeted floor under my bare feet was freezing. Shivering, I crossed my arms and began to follow Chris into the kitchen. Milkshake appeared out of nowhere at my feet, so I scooped down and picked him up. "Hi Milkshake! You scared me this morning!" 

The little kitten mewed, pushing his head against my chin. I giggled, scratching him behind his ears. "You're so cute! So adorable! Aren't you? Aww!" 

"I'm worried about how much you fawn over that thing," Chris commented warily. "You don't even give me that many compliments." 

"You don't like being called adorable," I returned, frowning. "And don't call him a thing." 

A dark look covered his face. "I'll call it whatever I want. It doesn't wake you up in the middle of the night just so it can meow at you then walk away. It doesn't trip you every morning in its attempted to be squashed by me. Worst birthday present ever, Holly." 

I made a face at him. "You love him and you know it." 

"If by love you mean abhor..." 

"Chris." 

He sighed. "Sorry. I'll pretend to like him for you." 

Ignoring his last remark, I brought Milkshake back to my face. "Don't worry, he secretly loves you. He just doesn't want to admit it because he's too proud of the fact he claims he doesn't like cats. But that's okay. For now I'll love you enough for both of us." 

Chris muttered something I didn't catch. Milkshake started squirming in my arms so I placed him back on the ground and he tottered off back toward the bed. I figured it was too cold for his liking. The air even made me want to crawl back into it and sleep again. "It needs to be summer," I stated. 

Chris glanced over his shoulder at me. "I think we have like three months." 

"Three months until graduation too," I mumbled quietly. The thought was a daunting one, but a happy one at the same time. It meant that Chris and I could finally have a public relationship, but it also meant I had to think about college... My eyes widened. College! College usually meant going away. Chris's form entered my field of vision and I studied his broad shoulders. What would that mean for us? I made a mental note to bring that up when breakfast- or lunch, I didn't know the time- was finished. 

The clock on the kitchen wall told me it was noon. So we would be making lunch. Chris decided on something simple- macaroni and cheese. From the box. Which meant I wasn't going to get a taste of his topnotch cooking. He must have noticed my disappointed face because he ruffled my hair and asked me if I wanted something else. Not wanting to make him put more any more effort needed into making lunch, I declined, and then went to sit at the kitchen table while he went around preparing it. 

By the time he set a bowl of steaming white cheddar macaroni in front of me, my stomach was growling. He heard it and smirked. "Time to feed the beast." 

"Very funny," I said sarcastically, snatching the fork he was holding out to me. "I skipped breakfast this morning." 

"Do you do that on a regular basis?" he asked, a tone of worry to his voice. 

"No. You know that." 

He nodded, slipping into the seat across from me. "Yeah, but you could have recently started it." 

Shrugging, I jabbed my fork into the mediocre cuisine he had cooked. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." 

"You should be a biology teacher," he commented with a grin. "You really seem to know your stuff." 

"Or a health teacher," I pointed out, unable to keep myself from smiling as well. "That would be the only thing I teach the class. Eat breakfast." 

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. "I couldn't imagine you as a teacher." 

"Really?" 

"Yep. I imagine you as a veterinarian though." 

A grimace crossed my face. "Except the part where an animal dies and I come home crying." 

He nodded understandingly. "Well that's out of the picture." 

"What's Jeremy going to school for?" I suddenly asked. I'd never thought about that before. I knew Jeremy went to college, but not what for. 

A smirk slipped onto Chris's face. "Believe it or not, but he wants to be a lawyer." 

My eyes grew round. "What? Seriously?" 

"Yeah," he responded, shaking his head. "I can't picture him as a lawyer, but that's what he's going for. He goes to the local college. Apparently there are a lot of good classes for him to take." 

I thought about it for a moment. "I wouldn't mind being a lawyer." 

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "A lawyer?" 

"I took a law class last year and I liked that," I told him musingly. "I also took an ecology class I liked." 

"Holly... Have you ever seriously thought about your future?" 

I gave him an uncomfortable look. "A little bit. I've applied to a few colleges, but I don't know what I want to go for." 

He twirled his fork in his hand, dropping his gaze. "Do you know what college you want to go to?" 

"One close by," I said quickly. 

He looked up at me. "I don't want you to make your choice because of me, Holly. I want you to go to the college you want to go to." 

"The college I want to go to is a college that I can be near you at," I responded stubbornly. "You said Jeremy goes to the local one. Umass right? That is a really good college. I wouldn't mind going there." 

"You don't even know what you want to be," Chris stated. "With your grades, you can get in almost anywhere." 

I smiled. "Except Harvard." 

"You need straight A's just to visit that campus," he said with a laugh. "But Holly, don't add me into the equation until you have the base of it. I suggest making some appointments with your guidance counselor so that you can have an idea of the careers that will best suit you in the future." 

Sighing, I laid down my fork. "You sound like my mom." 

"We both want what's best for you." 

"Whatever I choose, it's going to be something that'll keep me near you," I told him confidently. 

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Holly." 

I hesitated before asking my next question. "You won't break up with me to make me choose the best option for me, will you?" 

"Is that what it would take?" 

"No!" 

"There you go," he continued, taking a forkful of macaroni in his mouth. "I know you, Holly. If I broke up with you for something like that you'd probably be upset for the first few days, but then you'd be pissed and come banging on my door. I wouldn't do that anyway. But I do want you to choose what you want to do." 

I stared at my food. "I will. I'm just not positive yet." 

"Like I said, talk to your guidance counselor." 

"Maybe I'll be a teacher just to spite you. Oh! We could work together too!" 

Chris chuckled. "Working with you? I don't think I could handle that." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Seeing you all the time? At work, at home? We would probably car pool too. Don't you think we'd get tired of each other?" 

At work, at home... My heart fluttered at the implications. There was no doubt he wanted to live together later on in life. It sent warmth through my body knowing that. I really loved him. "Do you think we'll live here?" 

He shrugged. "Maybe. But if we want a family we should probably live in a bigger place. I can afford it, so money wouldn't be a problem." 

"I thought teacher's pay was crap." 

"It is." 

"Then how come you always seem to have a lot of money?" 

"My parents had a lot of money," he commented casually. "After they died it was all left to me, so..." 

This new information surprised me. He'd never mentioned his parents having money before. Although, an opportunity to say so had never exactly arisen. "Wait, wait. Then how come when we first met you told me you needed the money?" 

He cocked an eyebrow. "I thought I told you I only said that to keep you quiet?" 

If he did, I didn't remember. "I should have known!" 

"But you didn't," he responded slyly. "You were so gullible. Well, you still are." 

I scowled at him. "You're annoying." 

"I think you mean handsome." 

"Just eat." 

"I could say the same." 

Angrily, I shoved mouthful after mouthful of cheesy macaroni into my mouth. Chris watched with entertained eyes as I did so. After three spoonfuls I choked, thumping my fist on the table. That made him snort. Once again I found myself glowering at him. This time a blush rose to my cheeks. "Stop staring at me." 

"Sure," he responded, smiling, turning his attention to his own dish. "What do you want to do after this?" 

"Watch a movie and cuddle?" 

"You sure are lazy today." 

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "Oh well. Today is a lazy day. What else to do when you skip school?" 

Now it was his turn to shrug. "I don't know, but we always watch a movie." 

"Well what do you want to do?" 

"What you want to do." 

"But..." 

He grinned. "How about we go for a drive? We can drive around the reservoir and get fast food." 

"You do realize it's easier for men older than twenty to gain weight, right?" 

He responded to my statement with a confident look. "I have a high metabolism. If worst comes to worst I'll start going to the gym. Or we can go jogging together." 

I grimaced, shaking my head. "I don't want you to see me sweaty." 

He snorted, covering his mouth quickly. Our gazes locked and he stared at me for a moment before looking away, stifling another laugh. Frowning, I tried to figure out what was so funny about my statement. Nothing came to mind. Just when I was about to ask, he spoke