Chapter 1.


It was a hot and stuffy summer's day in Los Angeles. I was sat outside at the Rogue Cafe on a white cushioned chair watching the world go by. I enjoyed people watching. Behind my big purple sunglasses, nobody knew who I was. It was like I was sat behind a wall in which I could see through to see others but they couldn't turn to see me. People were interesting. Very interesting. I liked making a habit of figuring out people's body language, and wondering what they were doing and what their life background was. Sad, I know, but this was how I spent my days in Los Angeles. I had no friends, no family to see, so what else could I do?

I finished my coffee latte, and wiped the milky moustache I had now formed off of my upper lip. I walked inside to the main part of the cafe to the bar and paid my bill to the waitress. "Aren't you boiling in that long-sleeved top?" the waitress asked smiling a sweet smile. Honestly, it was...but I didn't like wearing short sleeved tops. I wasn't comfortable with it. Figuring it was easier to not answer, I just smiled a feeble smile back at her as if I was amused by her question and handed over my money.

I turned to leave abruptly. I didn't like staying out in public too long. I was very socially awkward and always got slightly claustrophobic by people in the end. Los Angeles was a busy place, and sometimes I wondered why I was ever moved here by the others, but it was best not to query. On turning, before I knew it I had crashed in to someone else. As I bumped in them, their coffee hit me square in the chest and spilled completely over my top. I yelped; shocked at the sudden events. "Oh gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you! Are you okay?" the person I bumped in to exclaimed in concern. I looked up at the person who spilt their coffee on me. It was a guy. He had short, curly and ruffled brown hair, in which he ran his hand through nervously. Despite his concern he was smiling sheepishly, and it was almost...beautiful. I shook my head. I shouldn't be thinking thoughts like this!

Soon realising my shaking of the head could have been misinterpreted by the guy, I hurried off not bothering to answer him. I was so awkward. And I also probably looked a right state with coffee spilt all over me. As I hurried away I began to hyperventilate. I didn't like getting too close to people. I always panicked. I never knew what to do with myself. My head swooned and before I knew it I was grabbing the wall to steady myself as I attempted to retrieve steady breathing.

"Are you alright? In fact, don't answer that; you've gone pale!" someone said behind me. It was that guy again. He touched my shoulder in sympathy and I quickly shot back. I hated people touching me. The guy blushed and placed his hands behind his back. I felt guilty. He looked so innocent and concerned for my wellbeing I felt awful for reacting so meanly. He didn't mean any harm.

"You really don't look well. Plus you also look silly with coffee all down you if I do say so myself. I know this sounds peculiar, but my house is only down the street and you look like you need to rest because you're white as paper. And you need a change of clothes. I owe you for ruining your top after all!" he said hurriedly. Wow, he spoke fast. Normally I would have run at the question, and wouldn't stop running until I was in an entire different country. But this man looked harmless, and only meant well. He looked liked I could trust him. Plus quite frankly, I was too weak from hyperventilating to run. "Um...Okay..." I responded shyly. What was I doing?

"Okay, well my car is over there" the guy pointed to a car sat alone in the car park. "Are you alright to walk over there?" I nodded. It wasn't far. "I'm Toby by the way. Toby Turner"

"Katie" I replied. This was the most conversation I'd had in weeks. "Katie Myra".

"Hello Katie" Toby smiled. And off he trotted, with me in toe. I felt like a weak little lamb following its mother. But what could I do? I couldn't back out now.