So, this is my fanfiction about Suze and Jesse. I've replaced this first chapter. All of the content is the same, I just added the notes at the top.

Please be kind on your reviews. I've never written a fanfiction before, and I've been trying my hardest to keep everything within the character's personalities. I will gladly accept constructive criticism.

I do not own the characters! They belong to Meg Cabot. There will be characters introduced later on that are entirely my own, but I'll let you which ones are mine. Enjoy!

Oh, by the way, Jesse is twenty-two, and Suze is eighteen. I'll give their ages at the beginning of each chapter.

Eighteen. It's a great number. I am now legally an adult. How awesome is that? I can pretty much do whatever I want, including get a little hot and heavy with my boyfriend, if you know what I mean. Since it's not illegal anymore.

Except, of course, that my boyfriend has some very old-fashioned morals. You know the kind. He's the we-have-to-keep-ourselves-pure-for-marriage-because-that's-how-it's-supposed-to-be type.

I guess that's what I get for falling in love with a guy who was born in 1830. Yep. You read that right. My boyfriend is 172 years old - but he only looks 22, thank goodness. And no, he's not a vampire. Believe me when I say that vamps are so not real. No, Jesse used to be a ghost - until I accidentally brought his body back from 1850, which is when he died - to now.

It's complicated.

Anyway, now Jesse's alive, and we've been dating for about a year now. Father Dom was able to get him a birth certificate and everything - apparently, the Catholic church is pretty talented at that stuff. Jesse's even got his own car and apartment. Nothing fancy, of course. He drives a little Suzuki and his place has just one bedroom, which Jesse uses only for sleeping, no matter how many times I try to show him the other use for a soft bed like his. He won't let me sleep over, ever, even if I promise to behave. He just laughs when I say that.


"Susie!" my mother yelled up the stairs, just after the doorbell rang. I snatched my purse and hurried downstairs, a smile already on my face.

I got there just as my mother closed the door behind Jesse. He nodded his head in her direction, ever the gentleman. "Thank you, Mrs. Ackerman."

Hector "Jesse" de Silva. He is the personification of perfect, let me tell you. Which is pretty impressive if you think about it. I mean, the guy was alive way before plastic surgery had been invented.

"You're drooling," Jake noted, walking through the room.

I scowled, even though he hadn't said it with any malice or anything. "I am not," I snapped.

Jesse, hearing my voice, looked up. That special smile pulled at his lips, the smile he uses on just me. "Susannah. You look beautiful."


"Happy birthday."

My smirk widened. You see, I had a plan. I was going to get him into bed, if it was the last thing I did. He saw my leer, and - since he knows me so well - shook his head once, sighing. I gave him my best innocent look.

He didn't buy it.

Hey! That was good! I should so totally get an Oscar for that.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Be home by eleven!" Andy, my stepfather, called. A moment later, he appeared in the living room.

I rolled my eyes. "Midnight," I argued, even though I planned to try to stay the night at Jesse's. I was sure I could talk Mom into it.


Anyway, it's not like Andy was serious. He was having a hard time keeping a smile off his face, like he knew something that I didn't. He loved Jesse. My whole family did. Well, maybe not Brad. But Brad's an idiot. "Fine. Jesse, you better have her home by midnight. Or you're both in trouble."

I didn't believe it for a second. It was summer vacation! I didn't have to work tomorrow. Why was he even pretending? And they both knew Jesse was too honorable to try anything, though I was trying to change that.

Rolling my eyes again, I opened the door. "Okay, okay, Andy." I dragged my boyfriend outside, where I laced my fingers through his. Jesse isn't a huge fan of PDA, but he doesn't mind hand-holding. Especially when it's eight at night, and the sun is just starting to go down.

"So, where are we going?"

He grinned, opening the passenger door for me. I allowed him to, since it means so much to him. "It's a surprise."

"Jesse," I whined.

He ignored me, getting into his own seat. I slumped in my seat. "Fine. Be that way."

We rode in silence. I kept sneaking glances at him. I was still amazed that I had ended up with this perfect man. What did he see in me? I mean, I knew I was pretty - hey, construction workers had shouted things at me plenty of times. But people tended to think that I was a little intense. Okay, maybe more than just a little. Apparently, I scare a lot of guys senseless. But Jesse, he loved me. I knew he loved me.


I broke out of my little trance and looked at Jesse, my hot boyfriend. He was smiling. "We're here, querida."

Am I pathetic, or what? That word never fails to make my heart melt. "Your place?" I asked, seeing that we were parked in front of his apartment building.

He nodded. Holding hands again, we made our way into his neat apartment. I didn't understand it. Jesse kept his CDs and DVDs and books orderly on their shelves. But when he was sharing a room with me, did he ever bother to pick up after himself? No. Of course not.


"This way." He led me into his kitchen, where he had set his small table. There was a red tablecloth over it, with two lit candles in the center. Two plates were set out, and something smelled really good.

"Jesse, this looks great. What did you cook?"

"Pisto Manchego. It's a Spanish dish."

Let me just say now that Jesse? Yeah, he makes really good Spanish food. Two of his younger sisters, Anarosa and Sierra, loved to practice their cooking skills. And they would force Jesse to help them, whenever their mother was unavailable. Jesse, being the loving brother he was, had allowed them to do this. How could he say no? Anarosa had only been six, and Sierra seven. And am I happy that he did! I love his food. My mom and I, yeah, we're not so good in the kitchen.

I sat down, watching Jesse as he dished the food onto our plates. "Wow, Jesse. You know, you really didn't have to go through all of this trouble." Although I wasn't going to deny that I was enjoying the attention.

"Susannah. I love you and it's your birthday. I wanted to do this, for you."

I looked down, blinking rapidly. I was not going to cry over that little comment. Sure, it was totally romantic, but come on! I am Susannah Simon! I don't cry.

"I love you, too, Jesse."

We fell silent then, eating our food. Andy was a great cook, but when it came to Spanish meals, Jesse took the prize. He was amazing.

I noticed, close to the end of the meal, that Jesse kept fidgeting. What was he worried about? That I wouldn't like the food? As if.

Was he thinking of taking our relationship to the next level? Was he - finally - going to put aside his nineteenth century morals and have his wicked way with me?

"Jesse," I began slowly, struggling to keep my voice neutral. Jeez, I didn't want to sound desperate or anything. "What's wrong?"

"What?" he asked distractedly. "Oh. Nothing is wrong, Susannah."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Then I set my fork down and folded my arms over my chest. "Bull. Tell me what's wrong, Jesse de Silva."

Sighing, he set his own fork down. "I. . .I just. . ."

Okay, he was so not trying to get into my pants. I started to get a little worried. This was so unlike my Jesse. My Jesse is a very confident man. He just doesn't get nervous easily. I slid off my chair and approached him. He immediately opened his arm, allowing me to settle comfortably in his lap. I rested my head against his chest.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Susannah. I assure you."

"Then what's going on?" For one horrible moment, I thought he was going to break up with me. What if he'd realized that I was too intense? What if he was tired of always having to help me with my lovely ghost guests? What if he had found someone better, someone more beautiful, whose hair didn't get totally ruined in the rain? What if he -

"I love you. Querida, you are my world. I have a chance to live again, because of you." He softly gripped my face, staring into my eyes. I almost got lost in his liquid brown orbs. "I owe everything that I have to you, Susannah. Every day, I am grateful for the live you have given me. Every day, I am grateful for the chance that I have to love you."

Can I just say that I was getting extremely uncomfortable under his intense stare? I couldn't look away, even though that was all that I wanted to do. It was unnerving. "Um. . ."

What he did next surprised me. He closed the gap between our faces and kissed me. Hard. Now, I was enjoying this immensely. I love Jesse's kisses. But usually I was the one who initiated the passionate making out - unless he just wanted to get me to shut up.

I was surprised, but I sure wasn't complaining. I pressed myself closer to him, slipping my tongue into his mouth. His anything-below-the-neck-is-off-limits-until- after-the-wedding rule forgotten, his hands found their way under my sweater set.

He shifted a little bit, then reached into his pocket for something. His lips moved against mine, not just kissing me, but speaking. I struggled to focus on what he was saying.

"Susannah Joy Simon, I never want to spend a single day without you, as long as I live." I held my breath, afraid to look and see what he was holding. He wasn't. . .He couldn't be. . ."Will you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

I looked up sharply, letting my breath out in a whoosh. He was holding a small velvet box open, staring at me. Waiting for an answer. It was so simple, the ring. Just a single, .50 carat diamond set into a 14k yellow gold band.

I loved it.

Honestly, I won't even try to deny that I cried. I bawled. This was worse than the whole episode with David and his mom. With shaking hands and blurry eyes, I took the box from him. I stared at the ring.

"Susannah? I know that it's not much. I will get you a different one, if you want something more fancy -"

He didn't get to finish that sentence because I had taken the ring out and slammed it onto my finger. Then I kissed him. "It's perfect," I whispered against his lips. I pulled back, smiling at him. "Of course I'll marry you, Jesse."

He smiled. "You will?"

I was so happy, I couldn't stop smiling. I had never imagined myself engaged at eighteen, still in high school, but it seemed so right. Being engaged to Jesse, I mean. It was perfect. "Duh," I told him.

"And you like the ring?"

"Jesse, I love it. Thank you." And I kissed him again.

And that, folks, is how I ended up staying the night with my boyfriend - excuse me, fiance. Oh, calm down. We didn't do IT. The guy is never going to get rid of his nineteenth century ways. Seriously. No matter how much I told him that it's okay now, since we're engaged, he just ignored me.

So instead, to celebrate our new engagement, we put in a movie. You guessed it. The Godfather. But hey, I loved the guy. I'd let him watch his silly movie if that made him happy. And he'd just made me the happiest woman alive, so it was only fair, really.

Of course, we didn't get very far into the movie because my mom called. That's right. My mother called. And not my cell phone to talk to me - which I just got last month. Oh no, she called Jesse's phone, to talk to him.

Jesse, who had answered the ringing device before I could get to it - he didn't like the way I teased most of his new college buddies - said, "Hello?"

It was my mom, I found out later. He gave me a loving smile in response to whatever she'd said. "She said yes, Mrs. Ackerman. She's wearing it now."

Really? What did she think I would say? It was Jesse!

Whatever my mom said next, it must have startled him. A slight blush rose to his cheeks. "Well, we hadn't actually discussed that yet. We were watching a movie. It is getting late." He smiled tightly then, narrowing his eyes at me.

I was in trouble. I knew that look. But why would I be in trouble? I hadn't done anything, that I knew of! What could they possibly be talking about, for him to give me that look?

"You have nothing to fear on that front, Mrs. Ackerman. I will make sure that nothing happens. Good night, ma'am."

And with that, he hung up. He pointed a finger at me. "You," he said sternly.

"I didn't do it!" I immediately answered, and then I wanted to slap my forehead. Way to go, Suze, that little voice in my head said again. Way to sound totally guilty.

Jesse lifted an eyebrow - you know, the one with the scar in it - at me. "I want you to behave tonight. Your mother thinks that it would be best if you stayed over tonight, since it's gotten dark out and she thinks that I might be too tired to drive you home."

I couldn't help but smirk. I was allowed to stay the night! And the best part was that my mother had suggested it. I didn't even have to ask.


"What?" I was instantly defensive because of his warning tone. "I promise I'll behave."

He shook his head. It was clear that he didn't believe me. "I will sleep on the couch tonight. You can have my bed. So you can't tempt me."

I scoffed. Like I would do that.