A deep sensation of Déjà Vu flooded my veins, and my eyes snapped shut trying to place it. All my thoughts switched to this feeling swashing through my system, and I desperately tried to figure out where I had felt this before. This confused me even more, as I had never felt for a boy the way I feel about Jake.

Searching through my memories, only one thought appeared over and over. Jake and I under the tree, watching the moon together.

I rolled over and silenced a scream into my pillow, before I burst into another explosion of sobs. What is happening to me? I wasn't even sure what I was feeling, but I knew it must be somewhere along the lines of deep-rooted confusion, heartbreak, and being profoundly overwhelmed.

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep. Urghh. The alarm clock.

Releasing one more silent scream, I flung myself out of bed and ran to the mirror in the bathroom.

My face looked like an absolute mess. It was all red and blotchy, my eyes swollen and a deep purple bruise painted under my eyes. I looked like I had really gone through some shit, and I supposed I had.

There was no way I could go to school like this. Lucky for me, I had a few tricks up my sleeve for days like these. Not that I had ever experienced a day quite like this one.

After splashing cold water onto my flushed face, I shuffled back into my bedroom and flicked on the ceiling fan. The cold air swirled around me, raising goosebumps on my arms, but I didn't mind. Slowly, the heat of my face began to ease, the chill helping ground me as I tried to shake off the storm of emotions brewing inside.

Five minutes later, I finally deemed my reflection acceptable. My face was less red, less swollen, and my hair wasn't as much of a mess as before. I quickly changed into something that could pass for presentable and made my way downstairs for breakfast, feeling like I was going through the motions rather than living them.

"Morning Mum," I chirped when I saw her sitting at the dining room table.

"Hey sweetheart," she replied, sounding confused. "How was your sleep?"

"Good," I lied.

"You're still not going to school today, if that's why your already dressed—"

"No, of course not. I'm covered in bruises– that would just be embarrassing. People would take that the wrong way."

"Okay... well, what are you planning to do today?"

"Nothing, really." At least it was the truth. Jacob wasn't planning to see me again until Saturday, and honestly I didn't want to see him until then. I had too much to think about, so I supposed I would use my day organising my thoughts and questions, and trying to make sense of all the craziness.

"That's all good..." she trailed off looking slightly disappointed, but then picked back up again when she saw I was watching. "I guess that would be good for you, give you more time to heal."

"That's what I was thinking." Another lie. I wouldn't be laying back feeling sorry for myself, but I would be laying back thinking about all the possibilities.

If I really was a half-Angel, what did that mean? What special abilities did I have? And if I could do all the cool things Jacob said I could, then why hadn't I experienced it yet?

All the questions I had to ask him tomorrow. But there were too many; they wouldn't all get answered in the short few hours we would have together.

Once I started thinking about Jacob and tomorrow, I was able to distract myself from all the burning questions that threatened to rip me apart. I wondered where he might be taking me, what we would do, and why he wanted to take me out. Was there a chance he liked me as much as I liked him? Or did he simply want to be friends? I was going to have to find out.

Bringing back the frustration, the image of Jake and I under the moonlight broke through my thoughts again. It was as if the fantasy itself was forcing me to remember it, wanting me to remember something. It was impossible to tell what it wanted, but this image had shown itself to me so many times in the past twenty-four hours, so it couldn't just be nothing. Right?

"What are you thinking, honey?" My mothers worried voice broke my thoughts, and I looked up to see her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

"Nothing." Why did I have to lie so many times today? I didn't like lying, but deep down I knew it was for the best. If I didn't keep these secrets and thoughts to myself, I would have to talk to her about what Jake told me yesterday. And I couldn't do that.

I didn't want to accuse her of anything despite my frustration with her keeping secrets from me. Secrets that could involve the murder of my father. Secrets that could change my life. Secrets that she had kept silent for sixteen years.

So, it would mean nothing for me to keep my secret. They can cancel each other out. But was it really a secret if she knew about it? It was as simple as her not knowing I knew too.

"Are you sure?" she said breaking my thought process again. "You seem to be having some serious thoughts right now."

"Really?" I felt my face go red, so I looked around, staring at anything but her. Tracing my eyes over a crack in the wall, I tried to sound as genuine as possible. "I'm just tired."

"Of course. You have had a very chaotic week."

I nodded, not daring to say another word. The truth about spending the day with Jake was a secret I couldn't share—Mum would be furious, and I'd likely be grounded for eternity. But, if I were honest with myself, I was exhausted. Mum was right. The past few days had been long, draining, and my brain refused to give me any peace.

I let out a soft sigh as I made my way to the cupboard, pulling out a loaf of bread. This was shaping up to be another one of those days—the kind that dragged on, testing my patience at every turn.

I was sitting on my bed, staring at the door. The covers felt smooth underneath my legs, like a fluffy cloud on a sunny day. My eyelids where beginning to droop, despite having a nothing day. A day where all I did was stare at the door, or the wall, or the ceiling. I wasn't uncomfortable; I felt perfectly at ease. It had taken all day, but I was finally able to organise all of the emotions at war in my head.

Forcing myself to accept the impossible reality, I was certain of a few things.

For one, I was a half-Angel. I wasn't sure exactly how yet, as I couldn't find any visual proof; the feeling of certainty deep in my bones was all the proof I needed. Second, Jake was a half-Vampire. And I had visual proof; I had been attacked by his dad – a real Vampire. The simplest thing I was certain of was that I was in love with him, as crazy as that sounded for someone I'd just met.

It was simple because I knew it, the inevitability of it swelling in my heart. But it was also extremely un-simple, because we were both very different, yet much the same. We were both half-breeds, but on opposite sides of a millennial long war. We both lived for centuries, but shouldn't be spending it together.

I wanted to be with him with all of my heart, but it was as if fate was working against us, forcing us apart.

Although I was yet to come across a real barrier, I knew it was going to come. I needed to talk to Jacob. My mind was made up – tomorrow I would confess my feelings.

Our friendship was fresh and simple, but it was strong. I was positive that if he only wanted to be friends, it wouldn't affect our relationship. Because both of us felt those bonds that made that relationship feel deeper, as if we had known each other for many years, rather than mere weeks.

Flopping backwards, I fell deep into the mattress, sinking into the cloud that was my bed. The fan was still on from my rush this morning, and I watched the way it blurred with its speed. Perhaps this is what Jacob looked like when he ran, being a speedy half-vampire. Or maybe, considering I was a half-breed too, I would be able to see him with perfect clarity.

Humph. I definitely believed Jake's theory, about my being a half-angel, but I think he had gotten the cool abilities wrong. My proof of him being truthful was the fact that my mother was so against him spending time with me; she must have known about the war, and must have been able to tell what he was.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock on the wall ticked away with maddening slowness, each second stretching longer than the last. It seemed to mock me, knowing how desperately I needed answers. Tick... Tock... I could swear time was dragging, playing tricks on me. Tick... The edges of my vision blurred, a product of my exhaustion. Tock... I fought to keep my eyes open, using my fingers to tug my eyelids apart. Falling asleep wasn't an option—not yet. Tick... My mind swirled with thoughts about Jake, wondering how to talk to him tomorrow, how to tell him... that I liked him.

Tock... Before I could push the thought away, I was already slipping into sleep. If I had been smarter, I would have let myself drift off sooner. Maybe then, I wouldn't have had to endure this waiting game for so long.

Lately, sleep seemed to be my only escape, but even in sleep, my exhaustion didn't fade.