Courtney was walking towards school, with her messenger bag backpack slung over her shoulder. She pulls some index cards from her back pocket. Ugh, I am so not ready for the Spanish finals, she complains in her head.

"Ow!" Courtney shouts, holding her stubbed toe. She turns her head to see what she stubbed it on -- a cracked sidewalk. It's not really good to be studying while walking to school, she thinks, If I get there early, then I can actually study in the classroom. Courtney turns to face the alley between the grocery store and pet store. That's a shortcut…But it's kinda dark…

Courtney glances down at her index card, then her stubbed toe, then back at the alley. It's worth it, she decides, and slides her notes in her back pocket. Courtney takes a tentative step in the alleyway and readjusts her messenger bag. Halfway down the alley, she hears a sound behind her.

Being her usual, paranoid self, Courtney spins around. She sighs in relief. "Oh. Hey, Mr. Walters. I'm just taking a shortcut to school so I can study in the classroom for my Spanish finals," Courtney explains to the elderly pet store owner. He nods his head.

"You were always such a good student," he comments before continuing into the pet store. Courtney turns around to see a man standing at the end of the alley. Courtney didn't recognize him. So, she starts to turn around. But there were two more guys standing where Mr. Walters was standing just a minute ago. They were wearing baggy pants with chains, like they were trying to look like gangsters. Courtney would've rolled her eyes at their style if she wasn't freaking out. She turns around again, and another man had joined the single one.

They started closing in. Courtney clung to her backpack in fear, and a man stepped towards her. He draws out a knife. "One word, and you'll get it," he murmurs menacingly. Her eyes widen. She opens her mouth to scream, but a hand clamps over her mouth.

The guy with the knife lunges at Courtney and she holds her hands up to defend herself. The knife makes contact with her right hand, and she attacker draws back. Courtney holds her shaky hand up to her face and she sees the deep, red gash. But then somebody cracks her over the head with a beer bottle, and everything goes black.

Duncan was watching the news and sitting on his couch in his room. Of course he had ditched school; he had a major hangover from Sunday night. And besides, Duncan thinks, Who goes to school on Monday? He had hid in the bushes by his bus stop, and watched his school bus drive by. Then he waited for his parents' cars to drive by on their way to work, aka, the police station. Finally, his older brother drove by on his way to the high school. And then Duncan had went home and let himself in using the house key under the mat. So predictable.

But, now, he was watching the news because his usual TV shows all included brightly-lit explosions, which hurt his head. The announcer finished saying something and a brownish-orange flash lit up the screen. Duncan winced and shielded his eyes. Once the flashing stopped, Duncan opened his eyes again.

It was an Amber Alert. This is what's wrong with America, Duncan thinks, Kids can't defend themselves anymore. But then Courtney's picture appears on the screen and Duncan just about chokes on the water he was drinking. He does a spit-take and spits it out all over the carpet. "Courtney!" he shouts. She was his old girlfriend from TDI. Of course he still had feelings for her, and he was pretty sure she felt the same way, but since they lived far away from each other, they broke up.

Flashback

"Duncan, can I, uh, ask you something?" Courtney asked over the phone.

"Anything, Princess."

"Uh, okay, well, um, do you think this is working?" she asks.

"What?"

"You know, our, um, relationship."

"Well, yeah I guess. It would be better if I got to see you more, but I'm kinda broke right know, and your dad hates me, so he would never buy you a plane ticket to see me," Duncan replies.

"Exactly. Maybe we should, um, put our relationship on… pause, at least just for now," Courtney proposes.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I guess."

"Alright. Uh, good. Well, um, I gotta go do some, uh, extra credit."

"Okay. Um, talk to you later, I guess?"

"Sure. Sure! I'll, uh, talk to you later. Bye, Duncan." "Bye, uh, Courtney."

End of flashback.

But of course they never called each other again. It had been a whole year since then.

Duncan turns up the volume on the TV, transfixed at her picture. She looked the same as always. But still hot, he adds. Her silky brown hair was shoulder-length, faming her oval-shaped face. Freckles dotted her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Soft pink lips were separated in a huge smile, revealing perfect, white teeth which were deemed more prominent by her tan skin. Thick eyelashes framed molten onyx eyes. But then the picture went away way too quickly. Duncan sighs in disappointment.

He turns up the volume of the TV really high and sits on the edge of his seat as he listens to the news broadcasters' voice. "This is now a nation-wide manhunt. Or, woman-hunt, I guess. But either way, the police suspect that Miss Summers was kidnapped by world-renowned kidnappers. They have been accused of murder, rape, theft, robbery, not to mention kidnapping." Duncan felt light-headed. This couldn't be happening to her.

But the broadcaster's voice continued, "Courtney has been missing for two days, but even though that may not seem like a long time, please take this seriously since they found some blood at the scene of the crime." Duncan's face paled. "She is 17 years old, weighs 115 pounds, and is 5 feet 2 inches tall. Call this number if you suspect anything: 1-800-CRIME-STOPPERS."

Duncan hops up and grabs the telephone. He wasn't going to call the Crime Stoppers number, since he didn't know anything. But he did call the airport. "One ticket to California, please," Duncan asks.

A half-hour later, Duncan is riding his motorcycle to the airport. He places his baggage on the little rotating thing, and he walks up to the lady at the counter. "Is it possible for the airlines to carry my motorcycle with me to California?" Duncan asks her. She punches some things into the computer and she faces him.

"It'll cost extra," she warns. Duncan pulls a wad of bills from his back pocket.

"How much?"