Six Seconds

Prologue

Prologue

Secrets. They ruin the best of us.

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This isn’t a love story.

That’s what I have to tell most people when I begin to tell my story. They assume this will be a glorious love story of how polar opposites somehow came together and found love. However, that is not the case at all. Maybe, it started off as love. But, eventually it ended with nothing but complete tragedy. So, therefore this is not and never will be a love story. This is my story. Which just so happened to involve Chase Bishop

He was one of those guys you looked at and then turned away quickly to make sure you weren’t caught staring at Mr. Perfect. His moss green eyes that caught the light just right, his dirty blond hair that flopped perfectly across his flawless face, and his slightly muscled body obviously advanced for his young age. He was what we called perfect. Except, for the minor fact he defiantly wasn’t perfect. Under all of that outside charm he was crumbling. But, of course back in Junior High all us girls cared about was how amazing it would be to touch his 'six pack' he claimed to have

We were so stupid back then. We only cared about the material stuff. How expensive someone’s shoes were. How large someone’s house was. How much someone spent on a shopping spree. We missed the point in our young lives. We just didn't get it. Sure we weren't complete failures, we were all smart. My school was filled with some of the brightest children in New York. Or at least that was the claim. Our parents paid for our expensive tastes, and we paid them back by going to school. That was how life was in The Hamptons.

I came to live in The Hamptons from my Upper East Side life in New York City when I was twelve years old. My father had just earned a job as a brain surgeon in a hospital right outside of The Hamptons. So, we left our very somewhat average life style to move out to the cottages.

I can't tell you I was extremely angry about this decision, because honestly I wasn’t. I never was the very 'make friends with everyone' type. So, moving to the rather quiet and less populated location was kind of a blessing to me. Sure, I would have to get used to the continuous Lamborghini's and Ferrari's strolling up and down my boulevard rather than the bright yellow cabs I was so used too. It would take some getting used to no doubt. But, somehow I managed.

I attended the Ross School with a whooping population of 1,643 students through Grades One through Twelve. With only sixty-five students in my sixth grade class you knew everyone and everyone knew you. There were no such things as 'family secrets', everyone knew about your past. They had known you since you were a child, and they would only find out more about you as the years passed.

My first day of school was filled with people trying to get to know me no doubt learning that I lived in the ritziest part of this small town. I tried to avoid the gold diggers out of the groups of people, and I eventually settled on trying to make friends with a petite crimson haired girl named Vienna. She was outgoing once you got to know her however, she didn't talk much. I just enjoyed having her as company, having someone to listen to me talk. Except, when she did speak she had the wisest words. She was one of those people that kept you inspired to keep moving, to never give up on your dreams, and all that crap we believed when we were young

The definition of my dreams back then was going to NYU and studying Visual Arts. I was an aspiring photographer. I carried my Canon DSLR around wherever I went, snapping a photo of everything and everyone that appeared to be the least bit interesting. The beautiful landscape of The Hamptons was ideal for my photos. I had used to think it was like a match made in heaven. I thought I could have a chance in this big bad world, brightening up everyone’s days by capturing the little things in life with my camera lens. How young and naive I was. Things never work out the way you want. Never.

Our neighborhood had consisted of 10 homes, which also consisted of a total of twenty-nine people.  So, you can almost guess how surprised I was when I wake up at six in the morning to get ready for school, open my blinds, and see that dirty blond haired boy jogging up the street and run up the driveway directly next to my house. Of course, even when we move to the quietest part of The Hamptons there is always a problem. And, he definitely did turn out to be my problem.

I somehow made it through the first year in The Hamptons with my trusty sidekick Vienna by my side the whole time. Though, I was more of her sidekick. She broke out of her shell in the middle of 6th grade and became a social butterfly. Not that I was complaining, she introduced me to popular crowd and showed me the ropes of the school. Sixth grade was not very eventful. The occasional three week relationship, cat fights over stupid girl drama, and stupid big headed guys getting in fights over god knows what. I guess you could call it average sixth grade.

I wasn't extremely popular. However, I wasn’t a reject either. I had the occasional talk with the peppy cheerleaders and the every so often wolf whistle from a football jock. But, I didn't sit at the popular table at lunch or attend the sports bonfires every other Saturday in spring and summer. I was just an everyday average, twelve year old girl in sixth grade.

The next two years, which were called my ‘middle school’ years, flew by. Nothing interesting happened to me whatsoever. I had no boyfriends. I had still never been kissed. And obviously my virginity was still in tact, where as most of the girls in my grade lost it the summer before ninth grade. Including Vienna.

His name was Jackson Willis. He had been the star player on our school’s lacrosse league, and Vienna had met him at a summer bonfire. He had spiked her drink and stole everything that ever mattered to the sweet innocent girl.

She didn't go into details about it when I saw her the next morning at my front door in her wet and wrinkled party dress. Her mascara smeared down the front of her slightly tanned face, red from what I guessed was hours of crying. She had told me the minor details. She had woken up in his home in what she had guessed was his basement. He was nowhere to be found, his house empty. She gathered up her belongings and left right away. Leaving her innocence behind.

We sat up in my room for hours crying and vowing to each other we would never interact with guys for the rest of our lives. Sure, we were stupid hormonal teenagers raving on and on about our misfortunes. Yet, sure enough the next school year when we were officially high school students, we were back to our old ways, flirting away with all and every guy in that stupid school. And that's all we cared about, what guy we could flaunt around on our arm. We never dated. Just flirted with them, led them on, but never went too far.  But, did that make us any better than the girls that constantly had kissed boys in our school bathrooms, or made-out in empty classrooms, and eventually went all the way in the gym room showers? Not one bit.

As I look back on those precious years before my world crumbled I wish I would of actually done something with my life. I wish I could have been a different person. I wish I would of been inspiring. I wish I would of made friends with people who actually cared. I wish I would of fixed the broken. I wish I would of done some good to the world.

I wish

I wish

I wish

But your wishes never come true. No matter have many times you wish on a stray star in the sky. Or when the clock turns to 11:11 and you close your eyes and wish for a better life. Not even when, you blow out the candles on the infamous birthday cake, does your wish come true. I relied on wishes back then. I never went out a tried to accomplish anything I wished for. And that's what I regret the most. Not trying. Not fighting. Because honestly, your never going to win anything if you don't try.

If only someone would of told me sooner.