Miranda Dunbar was definitely not going to push her baby out of anywhere in her body. "The whole ‘push' thing is not for me, doc, cut him out," she told the doctor. He nodded, and the last thing Miranda remembered was being put to sleep, holding her husband's hand.

When she awoke, the doctor was holding, a small, crying infant with jet black hair. "His name?" The doctor asked. "William Lucas Dunbar," she said, smiling. The doctor nodded. "William Dunbar. Born 3:28 PM, April 21st, 1991. Six pounds, three ounces." He wrote that all down and handed the child to his mother. "He looks like you," his father James said. Miranda smiled. "I suppose he does."

A few days later, baby William got to go home. That home was a rather large one in Paris. James Dunbar was the head of a large technological company, making computers and cellular phones and such. Miranda worked as a real estate agent. Combined, they were fairly well off. As such, they were also usually very busy. William was left in the care of the "babysitter" who was basically a nanny. Her name was Alejandra, but most just called her Ally. William called her Nana for some reason.

Whatever you want to call her, William and Nana were the best of friends. They played together, they ate together, and when William took his nap, so too did Nana. Young William was a strong child, both in muscle and in willpower. If William wanted to do something, William would keep trying until he got to do it. Unless Nana said no; William couldn't argue with Nana.

By the time young William Lucas was one, he already had a vocabulary of a dozen words, and he knew which shape peg went in which hole. It would seem that William was a very smart young boy. Nana always made sure they watched the educational shows. Mr. Rodgers' was a favorite of William's, and Sesame Street. His parents couldn't be happier of the way their son was growing up.

One night, after William was asleep, Miranda, James and Nana Ally were talking. "I'll tell you what, if he's this smart now, wait until school. I don't think he should do anywhere near public schools," his father said. Ally nodded. "Such a smart boy. We wouldn't want him to be ignored in the public school system." "I know of some good schools in the area. There's one that even has preschool. We can have him privatized all the way up through high school," Miranda said. "Then it is settled. William will go only to private schools?" Ally said. They all nodded. A prodigy like theirs would certainly not last in government funded schools.

A few years passed, and it most were sure that William was a prodigy. He was four, and he could already count to one hundred (and unfortunately, he did so a lot), he could add and subtract; he could name you several European capitals and a few of the States of the United States. (Ohio was his favorite to say) They considered sending him to school a year early, but with Nana's advice they decided against it. "Prodigy or not, William is a child. And he deserves all the chances he can get to be a child." His parents were swayed by her logic, and decided William could wait until he was five.

After a while, William wanted more people to play with than just Nana. And, like most times, he got what he wanted. New neighbors moved in to the house next door, they had a son named Phillip, who was about William's age. Phillip's and William's parents came to meet each other, while their children had a little play date.

"So... what do you like to do?" William asked. "You play soccer?" Phillip asked. William shrugged. "Sometimes." "Do you want to?" Another shrug. "Sure." Though their friendship started off rather blandly, they would soon become the best of friends. William grew to love Soccer, and the American music that Phillip liked to listen to. Their friendship gave Nana time to get the naps she needed- she wasn't getting any younger.

After one of their games on one-on-one soccer, William noticed the street lights were on. "I have to go home," William said sadly. Phillip nodded, and the friends walked the few meters to William's house. They walked inside; Nana was watching the six o'clock news. "Bye, Phil," William said, waving. Phillip waved too, and then he leaned in and gave William a kiss on the cheek. William pulled away. "Wha... what'd you do that for?" Phillip shrugged. "I saw it on The Godfather. Italians always kiss each other to say things." He chuckled, and William shrugged. "OK, bye," he said quietly. As Phillip left, William felt dizzy. There was a tingly feeling in his chest, like when he was nervous, and he was light-headed. Nana walked over to him and patted him on the back and spoke in a low, serious voice. "William, I want to tell you something. If anyone, ever, makes fun of you because you're... really good friends with another boy, just ignore them. Say nothing and continue on your way. They are just jealous of your friendship. Remember that, always, OK?" William nodded. "Now how about dinner. Chicken nuggets are always good," she said, changing the mood. "Yeah they are!"

From then on, whenever William saw Phillip, he got that tingly feeling. He didn't know what it was, and he ignored it most of the time. Apparently Phillip had forgotten all about it, and the Godfather, and the kiss thing never happened again. But William never forgot it, it was important for some reason.

Soon, the summer began to come to a close. The two boys would begin school soon. William assumed they would be going to the same place, but Phillip had some bad news. He came over one day, very upset. "William... my daddy says we have to move. He's being stationed somewhere else. We won't be able to play together anymore." William had another strange feeling- his stomach sank, it felt as if he was dead inside. "No..." he said, really quietly. "You can't leave... you're my best friend!" Phillip just started to cry, and William did, too. They hugged each other and cried until Phillip's mother cried out "Phil! We've got to go!" Phillip wiped his face and kissed William's cheek again. "Bye." William sat down at that very spot and did not move until he fell asleep. William didn't know it, but he had just had his heart broken.

William never really would forget Phillip, but now he had something bigger to focus on- school. He would be entering Kindergarten, and he was pretty scared. This meant no more playing soccer all day, or watching TV with Nana or anything fun. It meant work and being smart. To be honest, William didn't like all the attention he got over being so smart. It's not like it was anything special that he knew more than other people did. It would all even out eventually.

After starting school, William realized that it was boring. He knew all the stuff they were teaching. The teachers ate it all up, and his classmates were amazed, but William was just bored. He could already say the alphabet and count to twenty. They considered bumping him up a grade, but his parents said something about "though William is smart enough to be a first grader, we don't know if more than just his brain is ready." They were again, acting on the advice of Nana Ally, who was quite the child raiser.

Not to say that William's own parents didn't raise him. William loved his parents, and they loved him. They were just gone a lot. Often times James would make it a point to play soccer with his son, or at least watch the games on TV with him. And though his mother couldn't cook like Nana could, she did make great macaroni and cheese.

The years passed. William eventually came to accept that school was boring, and realized that most other kids thought so, too. By the time he had reached the fifth grade, he had a whole clique of friends who didn't particularly enjoy school. Some of them, like William, just weren't challenged enough, even in a private school, where the exact opposite is supposed to be true. Others just didn't like school, and preferred to listen to Walkmans in class.

William was listening to a favorite song of his when the teacher yelled audibly enough to be heard over the headphones hidden in William's shaggy, raven black hair "Mr. Dunbar!" "Yes?" William asked, taking off the headphones. "First, keep them off, or I take them. Secondly, care to tell me when the French Revolution took place? You haven't been listening so you probably don't know-" "It was 1789-1799," he said flatly. His teacher was quiet. William smirked and put his headphones on again, and his teacher said nothing.

That is until about an hour later when she tapped him on the shoulder. William glared, but she looked serious and concerned. "William... your mother is here. Apparently there has been a family emergency." William stood up and walked out, meeting his mother in the office. "What's going on?" He asked. His mother walked over to him and held him close. "William... Nana is gone. She was napping at her house and... she didn't wake up. She's passed away, William. There was no pain, she simply slipped away. She's in a better place, remember that."

William didn't say anything. He simply held his mother tight and cried. He went home that day, and didn't go back to school the rest of the week. He spent most of the time on his bed, crying. She was gone. Nana, the woman who had always been there, the woman who was always so nice, who could do anything, who made sure William was never unhappy, was gone. He was happy that Nana was happy, in a place where she didn't have arthritis or have to nap all the time, but William wanted Nana here, with him. But it didn't work like that. The day she was buried, William didn't cry. His tears were all gone by then. All he did was stare at her grave marker-

"Alejandra Sonia Luís-Maya

May 19th, 1924- October 3rd, 2001

Beloved Mother, Sister, Grandmother and Nana"

William was forever changed by her loss. He seemed to have lost the will to be as smart as he really was. His grades slipped, he gave up paying attention, it seemed like he forgot everything he had known. It even seemed to age him- William was a ten year-old with the temperament of an angsty teenager. His teacher took notice, recommending therapy for the young child. Desperate to have their happy, smart son back, they tried it. However, all it did was waste money and make him worse.

The years passed, and William gradually evolved into a new person. When he was done moping and grieving, he became the strong person he once was, but he was darker, in a way. He had a more pessimistic, pragmatic look on life. He still loved music, it made him feel happy. Somehow, rock made him the happiest; he didn't quite know how that worked. After a while, he ceased to mope and grieve at all, he was just a less smiley person.

In eighth grade, William was sitting on a bench, listening to music and staring blankly at the outline of the Eiffel Tower when someone sat next to him. "Someone told me you're the smart one around here," the boy said. "Supposed to be," said William with a shrug. "What's it to you?" He turned to face the boy sitting next to him. He was tall; he had blonde, shaggy hair like the people in the American movies about surfing, and strikingly blue eyes. He was slightly tanned, and he was thin, but muscularly slow. William felt a strange feeling in the put of his stomach and was reminded of his old friend Phil for some reason. "Well, I'm new here, and I was wondering if you could help me catch up. You Frenchmen are a bit ahead of American schools. One of the teachers recommended me to you, saying you were really smart but didn't show it, or something. But can you help me?"

Before he knew what he was doing, his face broke into a grin and he said "Sure, no problem, uh...?" "Taylor. Taylor Zimmerman," the American said. "William Dunbar," said William, and the two went up to Taylor's dorm to discuss what they had been learning recently. During the little study sessions they had, William couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be staring at him, and thinking thoughts about how soft his hair looked, or how his eyes seemed to sparkle when he smiled.

William also got the suspicion that Taylor knew that William couldn't take his eyes off him. His suspicions were confirmed on the last of their study sessions. "William, for the past five days, you simply have not stopped staring at me. Is there something you want to tell me?" William paused for a moment, but before he could think any more, he simply started talking. "Taylor, every time I look at you I get dizzy and there are butterflies in my stomach. I want to stroke your hair or just stare at your smile, or just hold you and be with you forever and ever. I don't know why, I didn't even know I liked boys like this, but I love you Taylor Zimmerman. Love at first sight."

Taylor was quiet for a moment, and William was scared to death that he had just lost a new friend. But Taylor then said quietly "Really? I think the same about you." They both blushed. Again, acting completely impulsively, William turned Taylor's head so they were face to face, leaned in and kissed the American on the lips. The two remained there for what seemed like forever, all of William's sadness and stress and teenage angst melting away like butter in the core of the sun, replaced by burning, happy passion. The two pulled apart. "Taylor, I don't know why, but I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. I don't get it. I've had crushes on girls before; I've dated and even kissed them... I've even loved a few, but nothing ever like this."

"That's because love is all about the person on the inside, not the outside. It's possible for anyone to love anyone else. What's between my legs shouldn't really matter at all in the whole equation of love," Taylor said, blushing and smiling. "Such a philosopher," William said, and leaned in for another kiss.

Over the next few months, the love between the two blossomed. It eventually got out that William and "that new kid" were "gay for each other". William remembered the words of his Nana, finally understanding what she had meant, and ignored them. They were jealous, those rumor-spreaders. Near the end of the school year, Taylor and William were in the prime of their relationship. They were brave enough to hold hands in public.

After one particularly passionate night, William decided that his love simply could not be contained. He wrote a letter, a love letter declaring all of his love for Taylor, in a sort of poem, and had it copied. The following morning, he plastered them all over the grounds. The teachers were not pleased. "Mr. Dunbar, this is a prestigious institution. We will not be affiliated with the kind of... lifestyle you appear to lead. After the end of this year, you will not be returning to this school. Good day," the Headmaster told him.

So William was expelled from his school. Luckily, his mother knew of another, nearby private school where he could attend. It was decided that William would A) not be allowed to see Taylor again, and B) attend Kadic Academy for ninth grade.

You know the rest of the story.