By: J.N Danann
Chapter one: Keira
Whoever decided high school had to start at 7:30 in the morning needs to be drawn and quartered. The antiquated torture method seemed fitting. Rolling out of bed at the butt crack of dawn to be to school on time is inhumane punishment. Though, I’m sure it would probably help if I didn’t habitually stay up till 2 a.m. every night with my nose buried in some sort of fantasy romance book.
What can I say? My love life was seriously lacking. Living vicariously through my books was the best I was going to get. It wasn’t like there were any good dating options at my high school. The guys there were overconfident, self-absorbed jocks, or worse—rednecks. None of those options would be appealing, even if I had time to date.
When my dad passed away suddenly 4 years ago, it left my mom to raise my 12-year-old brother and me all by herself. Between school, work, swim team, and being the second parent to my brother, going to parties and dating hasn’t been a top priority. Being there to help hold my family together has been far more important than those loser guys.
Living in the Midwest all 17 years of my life has been terribly dull. Since I’ve rarely traveled outside of Indiana, I couldn’t wait to see what else was out there. I’ve heard tales of adventure and wonder from the friends I’ve made at “Nerd Conventions”. Most of those friends were authors or Dungeons and Dragons players, so they knew how to craft a wondrous story. Luckily, I only had to put up with it for one more year and then I would be free to go where I wanted, and possibly find who I was meant to be.
Pulling my great grandmother’s silver Oldsmobile into the senior parking lot, I found a decent spot in the back corner that would allow for a quick getaway at the end of the school day. Grabbing the hair tie from my wrist, I tossed my wavy, strawberry blonde hair in a messy bun and checked my reflection in the rear-view mirror. Forest green-hazel eyes stared back at me, luckily without dark circles under them. Mornings are hard enough as it is without having to worry about doing my makeup. It’s not like I cared enough to impress anyone. I grabbed my leather messenger bag out of the passenger seat and my giant tumbler full of cold brew coffee from the cup holder. First day back at Monroe High School required all the caffeine I could handle. Trudging myself up the front steps, I heard a familiar voice squeal and shout my name.
“KEIRA!” Rea, my best friend since 4th grade, came barreling toward me at top speed. Bracing myself for impact, the tiny person with curly, golden blonde hair tackled me from the side, nearly sending us both into the commons wall.
“Jeebus lady! You are way too perky for this early in the morning,” I grumbled at her while peeling her arms from around my waist. She looked up at me with those mahogany eyes and batted her eyelashes.
“That’s because you’re not a morning person, plus you still love me, so I’m safe from pre-coffee murder sprees. Gulp down more of that coffee, so you stop bitching at me. You’re going to need it with Mr. Ledbetter for homeroom,” Rae reminds me of the impending doom as we walk to her locker in the C hallway.
I had Mr. Ledbetter for algebra as a freshman. Let’s just say he was not a fan of my constant in-class naps. His monotone voice always put me right to sleep. Totally unavoidable. He is just holding a grudge because I never missed an assignment and did well on his exams without paying a lick of attention to him. His poor ego couldn’t handle it. He never could make a detention stick, either. All he could do was try to make my mornings a living hell because he could.
“Ugh…” I grumped, sliding down the wall next to her locker, “Mr. Ledbetter and Calculus before 8 a.m. is a recipe for disaster. Bottoms up bitches!” Tipping my ‘Book-trovert’ coffee cup back and guzzling the last remnants of my coffee, I dredged up the bare minimum amount of motivation to get this day going, and hauled myself up from the floor, cramming my now empty coffee cup into my bag. Finally getting a good appraisal of me, Rae’s eyes glide over my chosen outfit for the first day of senior year.
“Seriously? An oversized, zip-up purple hoodie, band tee, ripped jeans, and untied combat boots? You look like you just rolled out of bed and put on whatever was closest to you on the floor,” she criticized.
I deadpanned. “I did.”
“Well, you’re dressed like a hobo. Wait… are you even wearing socks?” Rae inquires while closing her locker and bouncing down the hall towards our homerooms.
“Nope,” I reply, popping the p sound. While trailing behind her a few steps, I continue, “Not everyone has the perfect curvy body, a stellar rack, and fashion sense to pull off just about anything they want.”
“Oh, shut up!” she slaps my arm as a pink tint creeps onto her cheeks. “I WISH I was as toned as you are. Practically living at the natatorium every winter while everyone apart from me is packing on holiday pounds. Not to mention how much time you spend at the lake over the summers. Most girls use makeup to get the freckles that come in naturally for you,” Rae giggles at me while I’m trying to stop my eyes from rolling before she notices.
“You can’t really blame me for my damn Scottish genetics,” I retort, succumbing to the eye roll.
Rea side eyes me. “How about we both just agree that we’re both queens in our own right and leave it at that?”
I hip bumped Rae. “Got yourself a deal, chicka.”
Finally, we both stop between the two doors of our homerooms. The chestnut oak doors with security window inserts seemed to loom forebodingly next to us. Mr. Ledbetter was giving me the stink eye from his perch next to the door frame. Dropping my voice low enough that he wouldn’t hear me.
“Now remember, if you hear police sirens coming this way in the next hour, you know nothing, you saw nothing, and you are to burn my journal. That is your mission. Should you choose to accept it. This message will now self-destruct in five…. four…. three… two… one…” I shoved her over to her door while she let off a banshee-like cackle. The warning bell sounded as I turned to walk into my first class of the day. Resisting flipping the bird at my crotchety old teacher, I slid over to the far side of the classroom by the windows and took the second to last seat to the back. The last row was always prime hunting grounds for this teacher’s hawk like gaze, and I was trying to avoid that at all costs this year.
The classroom started filling up with more people, most of who looked familiar, as it got closer to the last morning bell. We’ve all been going to school together for the last 3 years and rarely had any new students come in because no one willingly moves to Indiana. Rae, the social butterfly that she was, would know everyone and be striking up conversations. I couldn’t even tell you everyone’s names. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really mix well with others, so I didn’t often put myself out there to make friends. Rae was enough for me. Being best friends for nearly 8 years meant she was more than the surface level friend she was with everyone else.
Mr. Boring, his new pseudonym for the remainder of the year, finally came inside and went behind his desk to turn on the TV for morning announcements. Turning to the blackboard, he started scratching today’s notes on the board with chalk as the bell finally went off. Reaching down, I pulled out my latest book from my bag next to me on the white-tiled floor. Might as well tune out for the day. The first few days never amounted to much. Same thing every year. Teacher introductions, passing out student planners, books, maps, and this semester’s syllabus. Rinse and repeat for 7 periods. The hard ass teachers were the ones that liked to give out assignments right away, and Mr. Boring was at the top of that list. Based on what he was still writing on the board, we were all getting twenty complicated math questions to gauge where our calculus slipped over the summer.
After jotting down the questions to do later at home, I cracked my book open to my bookmark. Before I could even begin the chapter, movement from the corner of my eye pulled my attention away. Looks like we had a new face stalking in on nearly silent feet. His brown trench coat caught my attention first since it jogged my memory of my favorite television show that was canceled after its first season, Firefly. My gaze tracked up his body. The solid, hunter green t-shirt strained to cover his broad chest. It made me briefly wonder just how ripped the remainder of him was. My eyes tacked up to the powerful jaw covered in dark stubble, and finally locked with his gorgeous sea-foam green eyes. That color made me want to dive deep into the ocean, or his mind. I wasn’t sure which.
We broke eye contact as he slid into the only empty desk behind me. The sudden loss of his green orbs had me jolting to the present. Taking a deep breath to center myself, I caught the smell of a campfire with an undertone of some sort of metallic scent I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t here before, so it must be coming from him. Warmth slowly crept across my body and settled low in my abdomen. If I had to hazard a guess, I was sure I was as red as a lobster. Thankfully, he was behind me and couldn’t see the blush on my face.
“Ah, Mr. Rian Byrne. Glad to see you could finally join us.” Mr. Boring blatantly called him out in front of the class. Without missing a beat, Mr. Boring inquired, “Hope everyone likes where they are sitting, because these will be your assigned seats for the rest of the semester.” Nearly the entire class groaned in unison. Turning slightly, I snuck a peek over my shoulder to see green eyes trained right on me.
Holy fuck Batman, this was going to be an interesting year.