Chapter 1

Chapter One

 

 

 

 

 

~Alec~

“How do you do it?” My life-sister, Penelope, asked me. We were sitting on the edge of a cliff, and it was just as beautiful as it had been the first time we came up here many years ago. It was the perfect spot to watch the sun go down. We'd come up here at least once a week, but that time, it was more important than it ever had been before.

I looked down at my ripped and faded jeans before looking over at her, dressed in a gorgeous, yellow sundress. “Do what?” I nudged her. She nudged me back, her slightly chilled fingers shocking my warm, shirtless body.

“How do you not feel? How can you live like that?”

“I feel,” I protested.

“No, others feel. You... you're just weird,Alec.” The sun had sank completely by then, so I stood and offered her a hand. Penelope took it gracefully and hopped up, her fifteen year old body only coming to my chest, and even though I had three years on her, I doubted she would make it past that.

I smiled at her. “I'll take that as a compliment.” She laughed at me sarcastically and raised the top part of her lip into a sort of snarl.

With both hands, she shoved me and took off running. “I'll race you to the car!” Penelope yelled over her shoulder, her girly laugh following it. I knew that she ran pretty fast and that she'd be at the car in no time, and that's why I took another long look at the mountains in the distance. The further she got from me, the less I began to feel. People like her had that affect on me.

The slight breeze that had been blowing my light blond hair continued without any detection from me. The beautiful scene before me seemed less awing and, without anything to smile for, my lips straightened out into a neutral expression, just like they always did.

 

~Ivory~

 

“Are you excited for school tomorrow, Ivory?” My mom asked me when I finally came down the stairs. I woke up this morning at about nine and hadn't left my bedroom. It was going on two. The thought of going to school the following day made me want to go up to my room and hibernate even longer.

“No,” I replied curtly. It'd only been a month since I broke up with Trevor, and school didn't sound like a great idea. Seeing him everyday... just no. I opened my mouth to say more but one of the pink tips of my hair flew into my mouth before a word could come out.

While I was spitting out the crazy mess that I called hair, my mom continued the conversation. “Oh, you'll be fine. Just one more year to go, and then you'll never have to see that rat ever again.” My mom joined the 'I Hate Trevor' club last month after the break up, along with all of my friends. “At least you'll be able to see Jackson again. Did he enjoy his summer vacation?”

“Um, I suppose so. I haven't talked to him almost all summer.”

“Oh yes, the time difference between the United States and Australia must make it difficult.”

“Yeah, but you're right. It'll be nice to see him again.” Jackson Arey was my best friend. Ever since the fourth grade when he punched a boy in the mouth for stealing my favorite ball, we'd been pretty much inseparable. Over the summer, he and his family flew down to Australia. It was the first summer that we didn't spend almost every moment together, and it was hard.

When Jackson found out about Trevor, he wanted to come all the way back to the U.S just to beat the crap out of him. He didn't know much of the details, but it wasn't his fault. It was hard to have real conversations over email when you're awake when they're asleep and vice-versa.

“And Megan.”

“Yes, mom. It'll be nice to see Megan, too.” Megan Hubbard, also known as best girl friend since freshman year. “Where's Dad?”

“He ran to the store to pick up some groceries. Why? Do you need him?”

“Nope, just wondering.” I opened the refrigerator that sat to the side of our little kitchen. I saw nothing appetizing so I simply grabbed a juice box and headed back towards the stairs. “Mom, I'm going back to my�"

My words were cut off by my own screech. Just as I took a step to go up the stairs, my foot connected with something and I went down. I barely caught myself with my hands, but my juice box was crushed.

I looked back to see what I tripped over and rolled my eyes at the ceiling. “Matilda!” At her name, my bulldog jumped up and walked so she was even with my face. “See what you do to me?” I asked her. Her response was a lick to my face.

“Are you okay?” I heard my mom ask through snickers. I nodded and continued up to my room, forgetting about the juice box.

As soon as I was in the safety of my red and black painted room, I jumped onto my bed. I pulled the laptop up from the floor and sat it on my lap. After pulling up the short story I was working on, my fingers hovered over the keys. Writers block had me in it's inky grasp once again.

An hour passed and I had only typed half a page. I groaned and finally gave up, closing the window and pulling up the internet. Jackson got back home recently, and when he was at home, he was either asleep or online at a website we always use to chat on.

Typing was just so much easier than texting.

While every single one of my other followers were online (granted that's only about five), Jackson wasn't. I shot him a message anyways, just to let him know I was still going to pick him up in the morning, and that his help was desperately needed to get over my writers block.

With nothing else to do, I pulled up a blank screen to write on and searched for a few mystery writing prompts. I spent the rest of my day doing just that and ended up falling asleep, my hands still on the keyboard.

It didn't take me long to wake up again, with the help of a ding from my computer. A box was blinking on my screen, which told me that Jackson had finally answered my message. Instead of writing him back, I pulled up my Skype and sent him a quick request.

Less than a minute later, his face was filling up my computer screen. His hair was a lighter brown than it had been before he left, and it was also in a desperate need of a haircut. The tips of his lips curled up and showed his teeth, his dimples igniting. “Wow, Ivy,” he started, using a nickname only he used, “I think you might have a monster sleeping on your head.” Jackson leaned in close to the camera, proudly showing off his dark brown eyes that hid beneath his glasses. “Oh, no, that's just your hair.”

My tongue flew out of my mouth in a mocking manner. “Shut up, Tarzan,” I teased back. We took a few minutes to talk about our summers. He apologized for not visiting as soon as he got back, but he and Ally, his girlfriend of a few months, were making up for lost time. I didn't need him to elaborate.

It didn't take him long to ask about Trevor. The anger that flooded into his eyes at the mention of his name caused me to tread lightly on the situation. “It's really no big deal. He was just being an a*****e.”

Jackson shot me his signature don't-you-know-I-know-you're-lying look that he always seemed to nail perfectly. “In all honesty, Trevor was always an a*****e, but in a good way. Obviously, he was being an a*****e in the bad way, and I'd like to know how.”

Reluctantly, I began to recant the events that led up to our break up. Trevor was always protective, and from what I'd been through with other people, he always seemed to think that he had a right to be. Also, Trevor knew that I liked it when he was a little protective over me. It showed me he cared.

Though Trevor was usually careful with his actions, he tended to get a little overprotective. “We went out and a bunch of guys were trying to make . . . conversation. From there, it all went downhill,” I finished remorsefully, looking away from the screen.

“I can't believe he hurt you, Ivory. I don't care how protective he wants to be, hurting you shouldn't have been an option.” I opened my mouth to defend him, which had become second nature, but he raised his hand to stop my words. “I know it was an accident. That still doesn't make it alright.”

I shrugged, and Jackson seemed to understand that I didn't want to talk about Trevor anymore. My mind was still too muddled to sort everything out, and I still had a bruise crossing the length of my stomach.

Jackson and I chatted for a few more hours before logging off due to exhaustion on his side. Jackson, too, was a writer, but he was the kind that preferred to write during the day while he sat outside. I was the exact opposite. I preferred to be nocturnal, letting my creativity flow through my writing instead of my dreams, even if it meant that the smart part of my brain had to shut off.

That's why editing was always done during daylight.

By the time one a.m. rolled around, I had successfully overcome my writers block and had finished my short story and wrote two chapters on my novel. Pride was streaming through me as I fell asleep, my mind still racing in the world I'd created.

In the morning, I woke up with only twenty minutes to get ready for the first day of senior year. I tried to jump out of bed, but of course my blankets had developed a cocoon around my body, and I fell to the floor. After fighting with the covers for a good minute, I ran to the shower and quickly washed my hair and body.

As soon as I was out of the shower, my hair was thrown up into a messy bun that I never could rock and only had enough time to coat my eyelashes with mascara. Within minutes, I was saying a quick goodbye to my parents and on my way to pick up Jackson.

Instead of running up to Jackson's door and waiting for him to emerge, I paused in the middle of the road and honked my horn like a crazy person. Jackson burst through the door, brown backpack slung over his shoulders, and ran down the driveway. When he got in, we looked at each other in silent agreement that said, “You don't comment on my look, I don't comment on yours.”

Although we had both been rushing around to arrive on time, there was really no need. Both Jackson and I lived in the neighborhood that was less than two minutes away from the school. We pulled into the parking lot with over five minutes to spare, which was sadly a personal best for Jackson and I.

In the distance, Ally was waving Jackson over, and I was left to walk by myself. Or, that's what I thought. Frail hands snaked around my arms and spun me around. Megan pulled me into a bear hug like she hadn't spoke to me all summer when, in reality, we saw each other nearly every day.

Using up only a few moments, my motor mouth of a friend had caught me up on every new person that transferred in, taking special time to describe certain siblings. “We're only getting about ten new kids, but two of them are related. The girl is a freshman, but the guy is our age. I haven't seen him yet, but I heard he was to die for.”

My eyes rolled instinctually as she droned on and on about her devious plot. Megan was a tall girl with skinny everything. We had initially bonded over the love of John Green books, more specifically Looking for Alaska, but we discovered that we had more in common than either of us thought. The things we had different were few and far between. Her gray-brown hair was always hanging down her back in waves while my, at the moment black and pink, hair was normally up in a tight ponytail or bun. Megan also loved to dress up for school, while I had decided long ago that it just wasn't worth it.

The yearly assembly was boring, just as it was every year. Jackson had to nudge me more than a few times so my eyes would stay open. At the end of the assembly, each student got in a line in front of the table that coordinated with their grade and last name. Megan caught my attention from the line beside me when she waved her hands and pointed not-so-subtly at the tall boy in front of her.

“This is him,” she mouthed. I could only assume that him meant the new kid with the little sister.

Looking him up and down, I tried to commit him to memory. Megan was never one to go for guys, but she was the person that wanted to know others opinions on them. He was tall, probably six foot or more, and he was extremely good looking. White-blond hair brushed the tops of his brows and his slightly-darker-than-mine skin was brought out by the baby blue shirt he was wearing. Even with the simple T-shirt, it was easy to see his almost perfect physique.

With looks like his, there was no telling what kind of attitude he was going to sport.

 

~Alec~

 

High school had always been weird for me. I'd gone to many before, searching for her, but I knew that this was the right one. Of course, I had said that about many schools before, but I'd already seen her. Heard her speak. She was standing directly behind me, trying to speak to another girl in the next line.

It was hard to pay attention to the slow moving line with her behind me. Every time her skin accidentally brushed up against mine, every emotion that I'd been dying to feel came rushing to me all at once. Happiness, excitement, even sorrow and pain. Each emotion was its own small gift that I only got to feel around people like her and I.

Another thing that made it so difficult to concentrate was her friend in the next line. Not only was I waiting for names to be exchanged, but I was also highly aware that she was staring at me. Naturally, so could every other person who glanced her way. She had no shame in what she was doing.

I shook my head, becoming tired of the waiting game I always made myself play. I took a deep breath and turned around to face the girl I'd been looking for for many, many years. However, my brain didn't plan what was going to happen next.

It never occurred to me that I was going to have to say something. Fortunately for me, I seemed to surprise her as well. I searched my wit for something clever to say, but only ended up with a simple, but admittedly lame, “Hey.”

She looked up at me with a sort of shocked awe. The blue eyes that were settled deep in her head were open wide and her lips were parted slightly. Even at that time in her life, her skin seemed to give off a somewhat natural glow, and that gave me an extra boost. I knew that I'd finally found the right person.

“Hi,” she muttered. I didn't know if the look she shot to her friend was supposed to be secretive or not, so I decided it would be best if I were to ignore it. “I'm Megan.”

Megan, of course! I thought to myself. It was so close to her real name that I felt slightly foolish. I knew that her name was going to be changed when she was punished, but I never thought that her earthly name would sound so similar.

Abruptly, Megan started to snicker. I was about to ask why, but then I noticed my actions. Instead of replying with a name of my own, I had been smiling idiotically and staring down at her. “Uh, Alec,” I said quickly, albeit a little forcefully.

Still, Megan laughed, only it was a little louder than it had originally been. “Well, it's very nice to meet you, Alec.” A thin finger pointed behind me and her smile brightened. I took the hint and moved forward in the line.

“It's nice to see you again, Maegillious,” I whispered under my breath, reveling in the way it sounded on my tongue and how it brought back old memories of paradise. For a moment, I thought she had heard me use her real name, maybe even recognize it, but if she did, she ignored it.

The lady at the table, seeming to be in her early thirties, gave me a piece of paper that had writing only on half of the page. I looked over my schedule as I walked away, each step taking me further and further away from my emotions.

Soon, everybody was being ushered out of the gymnasium and into the hallway. Numbers were taped on the doors to each room, coinciding with the numbers on our schedules. It took me a few minutes to find my locker and then find the correct room, but I did manage to make it before the tardy bell sounded.

When I arrived, only a few students spotted the classroom. On my way to the seat in the very back, I recognized two of the students. One was Megan, and the other was her friend. The seat directly behind Megan was taken, but still I changed directions and settled in behind her friend. Even though Megan was a good foot away from me, I was able to feel.

In no time, Megan was saying hello to me yet again. She was quick to introduce me to her friend, Ivory. Ivory had her hair up into a bun that looked like it had been done in a second and wore clothes that hung loosely from her healthy-looking body. The mascara that glazed her eyelashes was uneven when you compared both, jade colored eyes, and that was the only makeup she wore. Still, she had this certain beauty to her.

Ivory's eyes held emotions like joy and excitement, but those emotions were quickly vanquished by feelings like sorrow and pain when a boy claimed the seat next to her. As my eyes slid over to study him, I, too, became angry with the stranger.

He didn't seem too tall, but he was a good head and a half taller than Ivory. Black hair was spiked up messily with hair gel that I could smell from a distance. His skin was a good shade or two darker than mine, and he had the body of a freight train.

“Are you ever going to talk to me again, Ivory?” As her name left his lips, she closed her eyes. The boys face was strained with worry that I didn't know the source of. When Ivory looked at him with angry eyes, muttering his name, Trevor, softly, his face melted into one of sorrow and regret.

My eyes flicked over towards Megan and saw that she, too, looked angry. My insides itched to know what this seemingly sweet boy did to deserve this type of treatment that even I wanted to give him.

Ivory looked over at the boy sitting behind Megan, Jackson, if memory served. He looked as if he was going to say something, but decided against it. A pretty blond girl took the seat beside him just before the teacher entered the classroom. For the rest of the hour, the hated boy stared at Ivory while receiving glares from Jackson and Megan.

I couldn't keep my eyes off of Ivory. Even in the state that I was in, it was easy for me to delve into people's minds to gauge their moods. She had this certain sadness to her that was quite intriguing. Each time she glanced over at Trevor, the sadness grew along with anger.

Instantly, I wanted to protect Ivory from him.

But that was crazy.

 

Author's Note

Completely unedited, so any and all opinions welcome.

Reviews

[D.G]

Though I have noticed a proclivity among "Writers Cafe reviewers" (not to sound condescending) to commend or laud and, in reality, review absolutely nil, I'm going to be hypocritical for a moment, and say what's already rather obvious: that this is a technically sound piece of writing, and I would say an actually GOOD piece of writing, by that [technical] contemporary standard. I mean [in perhaps a simplified and therefore more comprehendible manner of speech] that this is a good example of PROPER writing, to writers who're still battling such unconscious insertions such as passive voice, redundancy, stress on scenes that don't deserve it,... all those writing no-no's, to which I think we're all blind, for at least a short while. With most of that begone, if not all of it--to me who read your piece twice, once sloppily and then a little more carefully--I think that this [piece of writing] may quality irrefutably as a teaching device. For example, take the first line in -Ivory-:"“Are you excited for school tomorrow, Ivory?” My mom asked me when I finally came down the stairs." This is good [irrefutably] for lots of reason you're already aware of [I'm sure], but to those who don't know why or disagree with me, I'll pose: What do you know about Ivory and her circumstances after reading that line? ...It's already a lot, and it gives the reader something to speculate about.
If we're looking for things to review, however, I suppose there are numerous "petty instances" where I might try for more specificity. I might expand upon my suggestion by usage of the previous example (“Are you excited for school tomorrow, Ivory?” My mom asked me when I finally came down the stairs.). By replacing the word "came"--as in, "...I finally came down the stairs"--to something more alike "plodded," or "trudged," or "hiked," etc., etc.,you might more effectively deliver that character's emotion/opinion/demeanour/etc.... But if any qualm's to be had with this piece, then it's restricted to be an artistic one. Given the contemporary nature of your piece, however--by which I infer its stylistic resemblance to popular modern literature, as far as I have read--I think that all your SHOWmanship/presentation of ideas, is fine, and, best of all, succinct. There were no lines [I can presently recall, specifically] that were unnecessary or unnatural-seeming; or, in other word:, your writing's disciplined; you make use of words for the sake of accuracy over fanciness, which a lot of writers misprioritize... I could go on, and I probably should if I wanted to write a thorough review... However...
I apologize for my rant/loquaciousness/semantics/what have you, but they [website designers] make these text boxes awfully small, and rather intimidatingly so. It's for that reason that I suppose I've exceeded their subliminally suggested length (shortness)--feeling myself that much has actually slipped review--so it's time to bade: commendable piece of writing, the rest is awaited; and good luck with the rest of your writing, however far "the rest" stretches.