June Larimer eyed the unopened locker on the opposite side of the hall with irritation. It was emotion she had no right to be feeling.

"Quit sulking," Her best friend, Roz Franklin, said from the locker next to her own. Roz was nearly six feet, and well muscled with dirty blonde hair always pulled back. She was the star of the basketball team, which, despite her skills, was consisting losing games this season. "You know he has issues."

"I know," June replied, and shoved her calculus textbook, which contained last night's homework into her locker. She was of average height and build, with short auburn hair and brown, almost back eyes. Her skin had the slightest of a brown tint to it, that she got from her mother's Italian heritage. "But that doesn't mean I don't miss staring at him all day."

"Jesus, you're like a fucking stalker." Roz teased. "Cameron should be scared."

June snorted at herself. "Probably."

Roz turned serious. "Maybe he's just late," She offered.

It was unlikely, but June allowed herself to hope.

The day passed as many had. Cameron Frye was absent, as he had been many times in the few years June had known him. Ferris Bueller was gone, too, another common event. Sloane Peterson had left early, leaving under the pretense of some dead relative. That's what June had heard, anyway. God knew what was true and what was bullshit in high school.

She found it suspicious, though. These three missing people knew eachother well and were close friends-and they just happen to all be absent on the same day. June considered herself a logical person, always a problem solver, someone who needed things to be neat and orderly and have a definite answer. To her, this seemed too unlikely to be true.

But then again, no part of this was her business. She only sort of knew this trio-she had known Cameron through Middle School making them sort of friends, gone to a few parties that Ferris had hosted, worked on a science project with Sloane. And if there was one thing June worried about on a regular basis, it was that she would do something she'd regret, and someone would be pissed at her. No, she would find out if she was meant to. If she wasn't, then she could ruminate on it for a while. Something to do in her free time.

When the day ended, Roz said good bye and headed to basketball practice. June began her short walk home, looking forward to her sure to be quiet evening of homework and reading. It was not undesirable, to June at least.

As she raced herself down the school's front steps, she was confronted by a boy with a mane of red curls around his face. His complexion was ruddy and acne scarred, and he shifted his feet oddly. His eyes were glazed over.

"Wanna buy some weed?" He asked June.

"No," She said. "But, a tip: there are three teachers looking out the windows from their classrooms right now, seeing a very distinguishable boy with a bag of green stuff. I suggest you make a break for it."

He didn't pause to say thank you before bolting from the premises.

June continued her walk, undisturbed. It was something she was good at, noticing the small things. She could observe and process things quickly, make decisions that had saved her ass in more than one situation. She could read people pretty well, too, but she didn't trust herself when she did, and tortured herself trying to analyze people's reactions. It was her main source of stress.

The phone was ringing when she unlocked her front door. She dropped her backpack quickly and hurried to catch it. She snatched the receiver from the wall, absentmindedly curling the cord around her pointer finger.


"Hi, is this June?"

The voice was soft and tentative. June's tongue became a useless lump in her throat, and made a gulping noise.

"Hello?" He said again.

"This is her," June blurted. "Who is this?" It seemed necessary to say this, even though she already knew who it was.

"Cameron. Cameron Frye."

"Oh, uh...hi. Are you okay? I mean, you weren't in school today..." She was proud of herself for remembering the English language.

"Yeah. Actually, I'm really good." He paused. June noticed something in his voice, a content sound, one of relaxation. He sounded healthy. "In fact, that's why I called. You wanna come over?"

June spared a glance at her watch. Her parents wouldn't be home for another couple hours, and the backpack full of homework could wait. For this, anything could be put on hold.

"Yeah," She told him. "I'll be right over."

c c c

June pretended like she didn't know Cameron's address by heart, and asked him for directions. She had a very good memory. She had been to his house once before, at a party Ferris had thrown. As she had heard it, Cameron was not happy that it had been held at his house. And yet somehow, Ferris had convinced him. It was a nice house, but not a cozy one. And the car in the middle of the front room was a tad odd.

She grabbed the keys to her family's third car. She was an only child, but her father had a truck for home improvement projects when needed. He didn't drive to work though, and June doubted it would be missed.

She climbed into the cab of the twenty-something year old truck. Her father had gotten it used before she was born, and was so infatuated with it he had paid for the upkeep of the ancient vehicle over the years.

"They don't make trucks like this any more," He had told her more than once.

Her father had taught her drive in this truck, and she welcomed the familiar revving to life of the big engine. Someone had once told her that they used the same engines in these trucks as they did in lobster boats in the Bering Sea. That seemed a bit far fetched, but she couldn't remember the source's reliability. It was a cool idea, though.

She put the truck into gear, and backed out of her suburban driveway. It wasn't quite a suburb; the houses were of all different shapes and sizes, and were set back from the street, but it was still considered a suburb. She relished the sound of the powerful engine and the heavy tires on the gravel beneath her. The body of the truck was green and scratched, and the bed of the pick up branded by loads of rock shaving away the paint. They'd painted it, the summer she was twelve, she and her father. But time had worn it away.

She paused, let a few cars pass, making sure she had a wide turning radius for her big ass ride. She sat above the other cars as she stopped at a traffic light after clearing her neighborhood, and felt powerful.

June continued on her way, occasionally wiping dust from the dash away. She cracked a window for some air. She wondered if the dirt was rock dust, or simply collected from disuse. She didn't know; on weekends she was usually off at various academic events, or doing something with Roz, who was more into social events and people.

The driver's side seat was a wreck, supported mostly by a pile of old newspapers with the original upholstery pulled over it. She didn't mind the slight discomfort, at least for this short drive. Sunshine leaked in the front windows and warmed the car, and June was thankful for the half open window. A feeling of peace feel over her. She was driving her favorite car, on a pretty day, over to a boy's house. She was young. She was happy. She was the quiet, mellow person, and always tried to save moments like this, to realize and remember them when they appeared. She didn't know what she'd remember in twenty years, or fifty. But she could at least try to hold on to the good things.

She pulled into the long, neat driveway, labeled by a mailbox with writing, in elegant script, Frye. She had entered a different part of town, an upper class neighborhood where the houses had great, green forests stretching between mansions. Under the dark canopy of leaves, the forest was dappled with sunlight and small creatures darting about eccentrically.

June parked in front the closed two car garage, which was separated from the brown house. She cut the ignition, and gathered herself before taking the steep step from the cab to the ground. She speed walked around the back end of the truck to the front door, and rung the bell.

She waited.

He answered the door with an easy smile she had never seen on his hadnsome face before.

"I'm glad you came," He said.

June raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah," He replied, like that should be obvious.

He shifted his weight, and invited her in, which is when June caught a glance of what was behind him. It seemed the back wall of his house was all windows, letting in afternoon light. The car in the center of the front room was gone, and took her a moment to distinguish the anomaly in the back windows.

The gaping hole.

And the tire marks that lead up to it.

"Holy shit," She exclaimed. Cameron followed her eyes.

"Oh, yeah." He said.

She coould have asked a lot of questions at that moment. Like, how did this happen?, or Where were you today?. Perhaps, Are you mentally insane?

All were perfectly reasonable inquiries, in light of the situation.

Instead, she asked the most important of them all.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Cameron smiled at her wisely. "Nothing."

Without further adieu, he grabbed her hand and lead her to the hole in the window wall, and they looked down at the car, a wreck among the undergrowth.

"Well, not quite nothing," Cameron said, "Strictly speaking, that is. I'm gonna stand up to my dad."

June looked at him, and saw the worry lines released, his relaxed posture. Whatever he had done today, it had obviously given him peace.

"Really?" She asked. "Is that...dangerous?"

She didn't want Cameron to get hurt in any way, no matter how impressed she was at the amount of backbone he was showing in this action.

"Probably," He replied. "But...after today...I think I'll make it. Ferris and Sloane and I, we did some crazy shit today, but everything was perfect. Except for one thing."

"What's that?" She asked, oblivious to the look in his eyes, or his step toward her.

"You weren't there." He said simply. "Ferris said he tried to call you, but you were already at school, I guess."

Yes, she'd arrived early to get something from the library.

"Damn," She said. "Sounds like I missed out."

Before she could lament, he pulled her forward to his lips.

June never thought she'd kiss Cameron this way. Sure she'd dreamed of it, but never thought he'd be so bold, so devil-may-care. She'd always thought she'd be the one kissing him. But his day off had changed that, and she knew it as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Wow," Cameron muttered, pulling away after a lengthy period of time.

"That about sums it up," June murmured, a stunned expression playing across her features.

"Stay with me," He said, at least until my dad gets home.

"Of course," She told him.

June had no idea what Cameron had done today to change him so thoroughly, so much for the better. He was still the Cameron she had fallen in love with, but less broken, in a much better mental state.

A car pulled down the driveway. It was a black sedan, well cared for and shiny. The wheels tossed the gravel aside carelessly, stopping suddenly when it saw the old truck parked in front of it's garage. June could already imagine the look of outrage on Cameron's father's face as he saw the "disgusting" truck taking up space in his polished driveway.

Fuck you, She thought, for ever hurting Cameron.

The door was opened, the suited man's eye widened at the sight of his modified living room.

But Cameron was not afraid. He was not alone.

Author's Note: There goes the first chapter, I shall update soon. Please review!