Default Stars - Ongoing

"You won't change me." Nate said, his gaze locked on hers, the mumbles of the passing people in the park disappearing along with their surroundings as their focus was only on each other.

"No, I won't." Sara paused, sliding an inch closer to him, "You won't ruin me." His eyes turned hard, he couldn't promise her anything. His head turned to the side, his lips brushing her ear.

"No. But I like a challenge." He whispered. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows furrowing. He couldn't ruin her when she was already ruined.

Sara Mikaela Dean was a smart girl, in her first year of sixth form, and known for being quiet. She excelled in certain subjects but not all of them, and was a little of a geek when it came to reading.
Then there was Nathan 'Nate' Murphy, the popular nice guy, well known for bringing a smile to the table, but no one is ever all perfect. Even he had many faults.
credits to @NightshadeCreepypasa for the cover


6. Chapter 5: He said 'No.'



Chapter 5: He said 'No.'


58 Days Before: 

She got up, staring at them all. Why hadn't they said it before? They knew him. Well they had seen him around and they thought that they could just not tell her. Or at least tell her when she interrogated them for an answer? Outrage died - like a fire that had water poured over it - in her eyes. Well, at least she had the information now. Because now she could go out there and confront him, as she was a very confrontational kind of person. If she saw something she wanted, she knew her mouth could talk her into a way of getting it. She supposed it was a side effect of having the family that she did. The pressure to do well did not succeed her need for independence.

 Gathering her things, she nodded to her friends. Tom and Alex arrived just as she started leaving. Michelle slid her chair back with a cringe-worthy creak, achieving dirty looks from George and Marty who were flirting with each other at the other end of the table. George flicked her coloured hair in Mich's direction, a sure fire reaction to show that she was annoyed at the loud interruption in her and Marty's ongoing game.

Sara just wanted to know his name.

That was the most important thought in her mind. Ignoring the fact that her stomach threatened to rumble, and the orders that Michelle had been going to make for food, she nearly threw herself down the stairs, the speed she was taking them. Two, three, four at a time. She ran, hurrying to get to Arran's and co, unsure of whether he'd still be there. She ran as if someone was chasing her, darting past civilians on the street and barely avoiding oncoming traffic. She slipped on some grass and dropped her purse, stopping only momentarily to retain her expensive purse and to catch her breath.

Despite the looks of the surrounding people, and murmurs that followed whether she was okay, as she walked into Arran's and co, through the front garage entrance. She clasped her bag to her chest, nose crinkled in disdain for her surroundings. Men and teenage boys walked around, some shirtless, some in dark navy blue overalls and some with their overalls around their waists, dirty white vest tops hiding the muscles beneath. An older man, in his fifties watched from the window, running a hand through his clean cut grey-black hair. His tan skin matched many of those who worked for him, the different shades and tones that lived on this quarter of Richmond Green, this quarter that she hadn't ventured to before. Metal structures held up cars as men worked with their toolkits beneath them, mostly very old cars, that ran on petrol. Some of them were electrical but most if not more than most, were the ones that were collectables. Collectables for the vast collections that the upper quarter had in stock.

Sara scratched her cheek, turning around, her dress catching a sudden gust of wind, and she walked forwards towards the office at the back. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, she froze her heartbeat racing. She felt like someone was watching her but when she turned, there was no one. No one with as icy gaze that she had felt earlier in the day when with Michelle. What was this madness?

Was she just going crazy?

Looking back to the way she had originally intended on walking, her small heeled shoes made click-clack noises on the ground. She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to come across as intimidating when in fact she felt herself like the one intimidated by all these brusque built men who worked far more in this one hour than she ever had a day in her life. She walked with purpose. To an open door, to a room in which an old man stood by the window. He wore a white long sleeved t-shirt, showing his physique, which was surprisingly lithe for a fifty year old man that owned an auto shop which could not have been earning that much. The man didn't turn when she entered, so she loitered by the door-way, her eyes flying over every photograph in the room. There was one of the man and an older woman. They were both smiling, holding hands. Her eyes flicked to a different photograph. One of the old man and a different woman, this woman was dark skinned and held a young boy in her arms, who seemed to be her son. They were also smiling, but the woman's smile did not seem to reach her eyes. Sara wondered if she was reading too deeply into it but the woman seemed as if she was haunted by something or someone in her past.

Sara shrugged it off, her eyes reading the name card on the oak desk that was just to the right of the man at the window and just in front of the notice board with the images of the people smiling pinned upon them. 'Aaron Davis, CEO of Aaron and co.'

"Take a seat, and we can discuss any concerns you have, miss." Aaron Davis turned around to look at her, gesturing at two seats in front of his desk. He shook his hair out of his eyes and easily scraped it back behind a large ear, inclining his head in a more overt acknowledgement, following the gesture, intending for her to take the notion of sitting in the chair and staying there for the discussion that would inevitably follow. Sara nodded slowly, itching to bite her nails but agreeing with her conscious not to do that. She walked stiffly towards a brown plastic chair that was regarded well for guests. But, she perched on the edge of the seat, not wishing to crease her dress anymore than she already had.

"I don't exactly have any concerns... Aaron Da-... sir." She paused and hesitated, unsure of how to explain to an adult male whom she did not know, that she wished to know who someone she saw stalking her at a graveyard's name was, but she didn't want him to get fired or anything big. She wasn't sure how it worked on this different quarter. They were right at the borderline, and society in Richmond Green was a very different society to anywhere else in the world.

"Then why are you here?" Aaron posed in an question, his eyebrow raised. It made her think why she was there in the first place. Well, she could just forget about it and move on with her life, but this was risky business and she felt like she owed it to herself to find him. It seemed important to her, like a mystery to solve. Important only to find him and find out why he was there in the first place.

"I need to find someone." She rushed the words out as if she could not get them out fast enough. "I don't know his name.. but my friends pointed me this way, said he worked here, do you know him?" She asked, second guessing her question when she saw his eyes light up with laughter that tumbled from his lips. She frowned, standing up abruptly and then sitting down again. She remembered she was in a different quarter, she couldn't scream or flash her bank card at anyone for recognition like Michelle did, and she couldn't square up to attack like George because she didn't have that core belief that she was invincible. She wasn't a do or die. She was a risk taker.

"Fantastic description, missy, and yes I would suggest you sit down, things work a lot differently from where you came from. Don't think I don't recognise you're looks. We don't get many Chinese features around here. I'd say I knew your mother, ask her what she misses about Richmond Technical will you? That will be one interesting conversat-" He was interrupted by Sara. She disbelieved that men should do all of the interrupting within conversation. She believed in feministic equality that could only be achieved by sharing in the same activities, for example: interrupting conversation.

"You knew my mother? Actually, forget it, I don't want to know. I came here for one thing and one thing only." She laid emphasis on the word only, the last word that she spoke. This was to show that she meant business, something that which she had learnt from George.

Aaron's face seemed to freeze, for a moment in annoyance and then smoothing out to surprise.

"Perhaps I did  know your mother. As it seems you are much like her, mouthy and overconfident, often to the point that you forget where you are." Aaron crossed his arms, smile vanishing from his face. He did not like being cut off by whom he saw as the daughter of his enemy. Sara's mother, however was more than just his enemy, she was his brothers rival, his rival but he hadn't owned up to the mantle of his forefathers yet, though as the ringing of political turmoil rang in the air, it was clear that some sides had to be fought. Sara nearly didn't reply, uncomfortable under his gaze. She didn't want to be like her mother. She didn't know her mother well enough. To her, her father was the role-model parent. Her father is the role-model parent. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, sliding the chair backwards.

"I'm looking for a person, tall, dark skinned, fairly muscular? My friends say he works here. If you see him, send him my way." She nearly jumps out of her seat, to her feet, tapping her pale pink clasp shoulder bag like the nervousness was overrunning the blood in her veins. She glanced at the CEO of Aaron and Co, who just looked at her. She moved towards the door but then turned back. 

"How will I get in contact with you?" Aaron asked, almost seeming polite but there was underlying hatred towards the woman he thought could be her mother though they had not exactly exchanged anything other than a small shared amount of time. Sara was about to retort that he should just contact her mother since he said he knew or knows her. But then she retraced her steps from the day. The feeling she had had earlier was too suspicious to give up with the ordeal with the strange figure that followed her and Michelle earlier in the day. She didn't want her mother to know about this. So, she turned around, walking towards Mr. Davis, she picked up a black permanent marker up from the table, sliding half over the table, to write her mobile phone number on his arm. Her pin tight grip had his arm steady and unmoveable until she had finished writing it. Sticking the cap back on, she tossed the pen at him, which he missed catching, as she slid from the desk and scampered out the door.

Aaron only looked after her, thinking: that's how.

Sara walked on her way through the auto shop, pulling her sunglasses from her bag, to put them on her face. She was midway to taking them out of her glasses case when someone came out of nowhere and elbowed her out of their way. She slung her bag into their back, spinning a one-eighty turn to give the person a piece of her mind. When her mouth dried up. The figure turned to look at her in outrage. His eyes darkened briefly in pain.

"What was that for?" Barked the tall, dark, mysterious stranger she had been searching for. She almost froze up but the anger broke the ice of awkwardness.

"What was what for? You shoulder barged me! You stalker." She spat the words out them, dripping with only one emotion, frustration and annoyance at her sunglasses which had been dropped to the ground in their scuffle.

"I only shoulder barge real people. And why would I stalk you? You're not much to stalk." He looked her up and down and huffed, walking in the opposite direction to the one that she had been intending on going in. Since the exit was in the complete opposite direction.  Sara rolled her eyes, sighing through her nose and holding her forehead for a few seconds. Then she realised he was leaving her there and ran after him.

"Why were you at my fathers funeral then? Stalking like a creep?" Sara shouted after him. She didn't think anyone would be at the graveyard for personal reasons when they had booked it out, and they had had security that night. She didn't even know how he had gotten past them.

"Why are you asking me this? I have a right to go there whenever I want. You don't have a right to book the whole graveyard." He just stopped and turned to look at her, his face was reddening in anger and he had an obviously popping vessel on his forehead. Sara sighed, she supposed he was right, but her father had died.

"Sorry, can you drive me home? My friends are probably gone by now." Sara twiddled her fingers, feeling largely out of place and feeling marginally bad for him. "My name's Sara by the way."

"Well... Sara. My name is Nate, and no." Nate laughed, leaving her there for a final time, to go and work.


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