"Olivia! Come downstairs!"

I opened my eyes against the sun shining through my window and rolled over in bed. My alarm clock read 10:37, and I groaned audibly.

"Mom, it's my last day of summer vacation, and you woke me up before noon?" I shouted back. I heard my mom chuckling from downstairs and I pulled my blankets higher over my head.

"It's not that big of a deal, sweetheart." She called back. "I just wanted you to come eat breakfast with the rest of the family. You've hardly left your room since we returned from the accident."

Well, maybe it took a toll on me. I thought sarcastically; she acted as though getting into a car wreck wasn't a traumatizing experience. I guess for me, it wasn't awful, because I blacked out pretty quickly and recovered even quicker, but at the same time, I couldn't be expected to be up and at it again within a few days.

I rolled out of bed and stomped down the stairs, not really paying attention to the fact that I was probably shaking the entire house. My eyes widened when I reached the landing and I immediately ran back upstairs, sprinting until I was safely back in my room with the door locked. I grabbed my phone and typed out a quick message to my mom.

I rolled over in my bed and let my heart rate calm down before I heard my phone ding with a response and my mom's voice could be heard downstairs: "Olivia just got a bad headache and won't be coming down for breakfast." Her words were met with sympathetic sighs and whispers from a crowd that seemed to contain many more people than just my parents and sister.

Of course the Carter's were over for breakfast. What else in my life could go so horribly wrong? It was getting to the point where I could barely exit my own room without being worried of being seen and confronted.

I waited on my bed, eyes closed, trying to fall back asleep. My window was open and the curtains were as well, and a breeze floated through the room. I found myself drifting off, dozing in and out of sleep as the voices downstairs chatted and laughed together. I dreamed of a summer long before this one, and of a time long before I had any worries in the world.

"Alright. Open your eyes."

His hands whisked away from my eyes and I looked around me. I gasped in delight as I witnessed the scene before me: a beautiful picnic, complete with flowers and finger sandwiches, was laid out in front of me, spreading for the vast majority of the meadow. I was in shock and looked up at him, my eyes taking in everything he was; a man who was so much more to me than just a summer fling, a man who had somehow stolen my heart within weeks.

"Do you like it?" he asked, a huge smile spreading across his face.

"I love it." I replied, putting my arms around his neck and kissing him softly. I giggled as I pulled away and he took my hand to lead me to our candlelit dinner.

"Goodbye, Mrs. White. Thank you for having us."

"Oh, it was no problem whatsoever!" I was woken by my mother speaking with Mrs. Carter just below my room. "We are always happy to host our neighbors! Feel free to drop by whenever you want to!"

They exchanged more meaningless pleasantries before I heard the door shut and my mother return to the kitchen to tidy up. I rolled over in bed and looked out my window, my eyes widening in shock as I saw what was going on just next door.

Across from my window stood the window of Lincoln Carter's home, identical to mine and directly across from it, with a view into my bedroom. The family that had lived there before, the Jameson's, had used the room as a guest bedroom, and so I would only close the curtains when they had company; otherwise the room was virtually empty and I could do what I pleased and leave the window open for as long as I wanted. The Jameson's had moved out over a year ago, even though no one had bought the home yet, and the only times I would close the curtains were the rare occasions when the realtor would show potential buyers around the house.

Yet today, as I stared out the window, I was reminded of a tidbit of conversation from yesterday that had temporarily slipped my mind:

"So which one of your daughters has the bedroom with the window facing our home? Lincoln is going to be in that bedroom in our house, and I just wanted you to be aware that there would be a young man in that room."

"My younger daughter, Olivia, has that bedroom. Thank you for thinking of that, I do appreciate it very much."

Standing in his bedroom, his back to me, window wide open, was none other than Lincoln Carter himself. I kept myself from gasping audibly and quickly flipped back over in bed, thanking my lucky stars that he hadn't seen my face. Surely he wouldn't be able to recognize me from simply my back.

A knock sounded at my bedroom door and I rolled my eyes, knowing my mother would be entering to have a talk with me. She couldn't stand when I stayed in my room when we had company, and especially not twice in a row.

"Come in." I called.

My mother entered my room and closed the door behind her, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Olivia?"

"Yes, Mother?"

My mom paused slightly before tapping my shoulder.

"Do you want to turn over and talk to me or are you going to stay with your back turned?"

I clenched my fists and turned over slowly, checking the window as I went. Lincoln Carter was gone, his bedroom empty, the window still open, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"What is going on with you?" my mother asked as I looked at her. "I understand that you were in a car accident honey, and I feel terrible about it, but ever since we've arrived home you've hardly been acting like yourself. You don't eat, you don't talk to anyone...you're one of the most social people I know and yet you refuse to even acknowledge our new neighbors. One of them is even an attractive celebrity! Are you doing alright?"

I contemplated telling her for a second. Only a second though. I forced myself to remember why I was unable to tell anyone about what had happened three years ago, and I mustered up a small smile as I looked back at my mom.

"I'm fine, Mom. Really, I am. I just have some things that I have to get through before I can be able to meet new people and everything. Plus, it's a little scary meeting someone who's famous! I've never even spoken to a famous person before, so I'm just nervous." I could feel bile rising in my throat as I spit out those lies, but I kept myself together.

"Well, alright then." I wasn't sure if she believed me, but I kept my cool. "I'm leaving for the grocery store, do you want anything?"

"No thanks." I smiled.

"Okay. I do hope you feel better sweetheart."

"Thanks Mom."

She nodded before getting up to leave the room. As she neared the door, she turned around.

"Oh, before I forget, could you run out and get the mail? I don't want to have to go back out and come back in before I leave for the store."

"Yeah, sure." I replied, watching as she left. The mailbox couldn't be that bad; it looked like Lincoln Carter wasn't even home at the moment.

If that was the case, I should probably act fast.

I ran out of my room--forgetting that I was supposed to be feigning a massive headache--down the stairs, and out the front door. I cursed myself for not grabbing shoes as the hot pavement burned my feet, but I braced it as I ran down the driveway and to the slightly cooler sidewalk.

There was only one envelope in the mailbox, and it was addressed to me, so I decided to open it. As I tore the letter open, I heard footsteps nearing me, jogging along peacefully. I looked up to see who it was, and my eyes widened in alarm. I slowly began to make my way back towards my house, desperate to not look suspicious, but as the man neared me and saw my face, I broke into a sprint, closing the distance between the mailbox and my house in record speed, ignoring Lincoln Carter's voice from behind me.

A/N: Happy Friday update! Do you think they'll meet and recognize each other? Let me know in comments!

Don't forget to check out Wednesday's update of Dear Sydney!

-Katherine