Chapter 1-A Dream
It started with a dream, or rather a nightmare; I’m still uncertain which category it fits better in.
I’m suspended in air, floating through what seems like never-ending darkness. A deep boundless black forest of nothing, not sure where I’m going or what I’m doing there and fear is beginning to take over. I’m edging closer to something, I know, because I can feel a weird tingly sensation move through my body. It’s almost like there is a snake in my veins dying to get free and it’s wiggling around so much it’s actually starting to become painful. I know it can’t be real, yet the burning sensation keeps getting stronger and more intense. That’s when I hear it, a whisper at first, but then gradually growing into something louder and more thunderous. I flinch when I realize it’s the sound of someone calling my name.
“Callie.”
The female voice was sweet and familiar with a just a hint of frustration radiating from it. My body went numb and my eyes darted around squinting to see something, anything at all, through the dimness. All of a sudden, a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach and I doubled over in pain. It felt like every part of me had been engulfed in fire. My body wrenched mercilessly and then as quick as it had come, it was gone. Still clutching my abdomen, I glanced up and in the distance I could barely discern the tiniest hint of a tall castle, its gray peaks looming before me.
I stumbled around, legs and arms flailing, trying to pull myself towards this mysterious place as my name reverberated through the darkness, becoming even more insistent. Then abruptly there was silence and the castle began to fade in and out of focus, until I was left with nothing but darkness again. I closed my eyes and listened intently for some sort of noise, but nothing came. I felt my body relax and then tense again as hands slid down my arms, gripping my wrists. I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes.
Before me stood a beautiful woman, her confident blue eyes met mine as she took hold of my hand and pulled it up toward her face studying my family crest with a determined expression. My heart skipped a beat: Zilla. How did I not recognize her? She was unmistakable. Thick golden locks clung to her sweaty face. Her gaze intensified when she realized I had identified her and just as she was about to open her mouth, she froze. Her eyes bulged, her mouth set into a wicked grin and her grip tightened so hard on me that I wanted to pass out or cry, maybe even both. Panicking, I tried to wriggle free, but I was trapped. I wanted to scream for someone to rescue me, but I knew it was futile. Nobody was here but us. I went slack and just as I was about to succumb to the darkness I felt swirling all around me, Zilla dissolved and I was jolted awake to the sound of my dreaded alarm clock.
After hitting the snooze button several times, I unclench my clammy fists from my favorite purple Egyptian cotton sheets, still reeling from the dream, and roll out of bed mumbling under my breath how much I hate Mondays. I glance upwards, rubbing sleep from my eyes and I can swear there is a weird silvery-blue orb glowing near the top of my head, but then it disappears. I must still be dreaming. I’ve really got to get a handle on these nightmares, they’re taking a toll on me, I thought yawning.
I reluctantly drag myself toward my closet, but not before tripping over Garbage on the way. Garbage is a fat orange tabby cat I found lurking in my backyard one day. I had gone outside to finish up some yard work and there he was, just sitting in the middle of the cool grass staring up at me. He didn’t run or get scared, which is not the norm for cats. In fact, he looked almost annoyed that I had taken so long to find him. Until I met Garbage, I never really liked cats. Don’t get me wrong, they’re cute and cuddly. But they shed like crazy and meow at all hours of the night, especially Garbage. Sometimes he’ll keep me up all night with the howling. Nonetheless, we were drawn to each other right away and while the name sounds harsh, it’s truly fitting. He yowls in pain until I reach down and pet him behind the ears to soothe him while cooing, “Its okay, mama’s sorry.”
That’s when I notice the purple-bluish rings around my wrists. I blanched and groaned, “Not again!” Nearly every day now I wake up to find similar marks. Sometimes it’s the wrists, or the ankles or even the neck. Try covering that up and see how it goes. Nobody believes you when you say you didn’t do it on purpose or that it wasn’t your parents.
After I’m done scolding myself for the bruises, I make my way back towards the closet. I’m literally inches away when a huge gust of wind sails through my room whipping my curtains against the wall and practically knocking me over. I stand taller, bracing myself for the next round when a gentle breeze brushes across my face instead. I inhale, basking in the heady scent of ocean and sand. It’s not like I haven’t experienced it before, the rush of wind and tang of saltwater, but it’s astounding how much it still manages to make my breath catch in my throat.
When I was eight, my parents decided to move us from our small town back in the country to a city on the west coast called Crystalport. I had a hard time adjusting at first because I missed my friends, but as soon as I heard the sound of waves crashing against the shore I knew it was destiny.
Crystalport is probably just like every other city along the coast except it’s a lot more laid back and funky. It has great beaches, beautiful houses and tons of culture, but it’s known mostly for it’s carnival-like mall of shops near Mallowbeach. A vast array of stores and eateries clutter the sandy strip as you wander through. You can find so many things to satisfy your curiosity, such as: artists, musicians, singers, jugglers, acrobats, mimes, comics, magicians, prophets, fortune tellers, and other colorful entertainers. You name it, and you’ll almost certainly find it there.
We live in a quaint upscale neighborhood in between Crystalport and Mallowbeach, the best of both worlds. The only access to the houses is from pedestrian-only streets that have numbers on the footpaths. Our house is an old Victorian style one in the same vicinity, number 316. It’s two-stories, made out of rocks and stones, the smooth kind you find in a creek bed after the waters slightly recede. It has steep roof pitches, turrets and dormers, a large enclosed porch with turned posts, decorative railings and to top it all off, a widow’s walk. Inexplicably, my favorite part of the house and generally where I spend most of my time so I can gaze out on the horizon.
I head towards the closet again, this time hoping not to get sidetracked for a third time. I look at my small selection of clothes and pout. If my best friend Zilla were here she would pass out with frustration after telling me that I was seriously fashion deprived, and I was, not that I’d admit it to her. Ever since we were kids, she’s been nit-picking me about dressing more trendy. While her version of the definition is Coach bags and Juicy Couture clothes, mine is more a bikini (you never know when you might need it to surf), jean capri’s, tank tops, and flip flops. In her eyes though, that’s a fashion don’t and since Zilla is one of the most popular girls at Crystalport High I’m sure she’s well aware of all the faux pas.
As I fumble through the long rows to pick something more Zilla-approval-worthy, I catch a glimpse of myself in the hand-carved wood floor length mirror and stop. Frustrated by my appearance, I part my lips slightly, frowning. My bloodshot dark green eyes narrowed in on my curly tangled hair, which of course signals another sleepless night. Stupid nightmares, it’s going to take forever to get that knot out, I thought flicking a rogue strand out of the way. I turned around, dismissing the ugly shell of myself staring back at me and trying to pull my favorite shirt off its hanger when I felt something that made my skin prick up. I immediately freeze in place.
“Could this day get any weirder?” I groaned.
My head whipped back around facing the direction of the mirror. What I see has clearly got to be a figment of my imagination. A transparent male figure is staring at me with the oddest expression on his face. He looked like a fuzzy TV screen, the kind you want to adjust the antenna on or smack the side of the box of to get to come into focus better. The sh
ort blips I caught of him flickering in and out were having a bizarre effect on me. Instead of being scared, like I knew I should be, I was utterly mesmerized. He was just too gorgeous for me to feel any fear at all. As if sensing my thoughts, he grinned at me.
I quickly averted my gaze. It’s not real, I thought trying to gather my wits. I reached into the closet and grabbed my faded denim jeans and long sleeve black tee to cover up the bruising, despite the remarks I’d receive from Zilla. I must be loopy after that weird dream, I thought. I glance up again just to make sure, and he’s gone.
“See, nothing to worry about,” I sighed with relief.
I raced down the stairs bumping into my dad on the way, who’s still groggy and fumbling through the hall. My dad is almost an exact replica of me, except he’s male. He reminds me of Ron Weasley from Harry Potter, but an older version with sparkling red hair, an assortment of discolored freckles, and the most enchanting green eyes. As he steadied himself, his family crest tattoo began peeking through underneath the ends of his thermal. An hourglass with ivy entwined around it. That was our families mark. My dad’s had faded over time, but mine was still as vibrant as the day as I was born.
“Sorry,” I said remorsefully.
“No worries,” he replied pulling me into a hug. “We’re both still tired, it happens.”
The love he felt for me wrapped around me like a blanket keeping me warm and content in his arms.
Why was his personality and appearance so different from my mother’s? She’s extremely tall with long curly black hair, brown eyes, and a very pale complexion. But it’s not how different she looks, it’s how cold she is that’s the issue. Like her heart froze over the day she gave birth to me. I felt as though she thought if she got too close to me something bad might happen. I guess that’s why I’ve always been daddy’s little girl.
“Any interesting cases today?” I questioned him playfully. He’s a big-wig lawyer for celebrities, but he refuses to discuss his cases with us since it’s attorney-client privileged information. One of his current cases has him working later than normal lately, so we don’t get to see each other as often. I miss flopping down on the couch next to him and watching Man vs. Wild.
“Nothing on my end Pooh Bear, and besides, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to divulge that information. Top secret stuff,” he said with a wink and a laugh.
“Oh well, it was worth a shot,” I said nudging him with my shoulder.
“Very good try though. Maybe one of these days you’ll convince me,” he said smirking.
He gave me a giant kiss on the forehead and I bolted to the kitchen to grab a breakfast bar. While I’m trying to scarf it down, I hear a horn honking which means my carpool has officially arrived.
It’s late August, the first day of senior year for us all at Crystalport High, Home of the Mighty Seals. Woohoo. (Insert sarcasm here). CHS is like most typical schools. I know that sounds cliché, but the only difference is that there are more upper-class families and therefore more luxury cars, plastic surgery, and fake tans. I dread coming back here every year because I feel like I should be doing something far more important with my life. There had to be more than what was in front of me, I could feel it almost within reach. Similar to the dream I keep having. I can visualize it and I struggle desperately to get there, but I make no progress. So close, yet so far away. Not to mention Luke, he was just about the last person I wanted to see. I’ve been avoiding him all summer, and I hope he’s taken the hint.
Another honk and I’m headed out, Alyssa’s shiny apple red convertible is waiting for me in the driveway. Her car has gotten us through some of the best and worst of times. I mean it, if you ever need a boost of morale, try riding in it with the top down and you’ll see what I mean.
“Good morning,” I called from the front door.
“Morning,” they replied.
Once Jett sees I’m racing towards the car, he switches to the backseat and I slide in, feeling the warmth his body heat left on the black leather interior. I settle in, buckling my seatbelt and turn slightly, noticing the way Alyssa’s normally creamy complexion has gone slightly tan.
“Nice,” I said pointing to her skin.
Alyssa glanced in my direction, her cool and confident brown eyes meeting mine. “Seriously! I mean, I have been waiting forever for this day to come. I was really starting to get tired of sitting out in the sun and coming back burnt like a cherry tomato.” She smiles, flicks her shoulder-length, purple streaked dark brown hair back over her shoulder and hits the gas. I smile in return, more to myself than anyone else, and crane my neck to take peek at Jett.
He seems distracted today, staring out the window and soberly quiet. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my eyes critiquing his new short black hair with eccentric blonde highlights. It goes surprisingly well with his skin tone.
“Nothing,” he replied, pulling his zip-up hoodie a little tighter. Not this again, I thought, mentally shaking my head disapprovingly. Sometime during every year of school, Jett gets into this funk where he thinks that he’s too fat and gay and that nobody loves him. You know, all that poor pitiful me stuff. In reality, nobody cares that he likes guys. Plus, he’s only slightly overweight, and his olive complexion and mesmerizing hazel eyes really counteract it anyway.
“Again?” I ask, tsk-ing him.
He groaned, “It’s not like that, I promise. It’s just that I met someone and you know, he said he’d call me and never did.”
Yikes! This was not a territory I was familiar with. In fact, guys weren’t in my area of expertise at all. “Oh,” I said instantly feeling remorseful that I had assumed it was his obsession with his appearance again. “I’m sorry,” I said reaching back and taking his hand which he held out to me without giving it a second thought.
“Thanks,” he said squeezing mine in return.
“What’s his name?” I asked. “I’ll go over there and give him a piece of my mind or a piece of my fist, whichever you prefer.”
“Me too,” Alyssa chimed in.
Jett smiled, “Thanks guys, that does make me feel loads better, but it’s probably best if we just let it be. The sooner I move on, the better, right?” We both gave him a meaningful look of sympathy, and I changed the subject.
After that, the drive to school was the usual. Talk of how our summers were, plans for the weekend, and where to go shopping next filled the car. Personal vehicles and school buses alike clogged the roadways along the way. As we approached school grounds, the rising sun with its glorious red, orange, and yellow hues cast its breathtaking light over us. We pulled into the parking lot and gazed at all the students piled onto the yard for breakfast, most of them sprawled on the sidewalk outside conversing with their friends.
We took the vacant spot near Zilla’s Thunderbird and piled out of the car. I scanned the crowd for her. It’s been a few days since we saw each other last and I missed her. Being away from my best friend for longer than I had to be was torture. I felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped away, leaving me weak. I notice her head bobbing around and grimaced when I realized she was talking with Joanne, my arch enemy. I hung back a bit hoping she’d notice us first so I didn’t have to go over there. Luckily she does. She waves enthusiastically and starts to head over, her shiny blonde hair blowing in the breeze. The unmistakable glare I receive from Joanne sends shivers down my spine. When she reaches us, she gives me a giant hug and whispers, “Missed you.”
“Missed you too,” I murmur back. Just then, a black Jeep pulls into the space near ours and Locke jumps out. Zilla’s face lights up as he rushes over, picking her up into the air and twirling her around. Locke is Zilla’s long-time captain of the football team boyfriend and probably one of the nicest guys anyone would ever meet. I couldn’t be happier for her. He gives me a huge smile and a pat on the back. We talked for a few more minutes until the bell finally rang and we scurried our separate ways to cl
ass.
I opened the main entrance door to the school and immediately get hit with the toxic scent of cleaning supplies and sweaty teens. It made my nose crinkle and nausea threatened to overtake me. I took a deep cleansing breath. Somebody bumped into me, muttering about me standing in the doorway, so I tentatively stepped further inside. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and glanced down the hallway.
Red and white banners emblazoned with the school motto clung to every surface imaginable. They were made to have a welcoming effect, but to me it was just overkill. Plus, ever since I stepped through the door, I just felt icky and I could swear the way my skin crawled that someone was watching me. I shivered and sidled away from the wall I’d been clinging to, making a beeline for homeroom.
I hate this school, I thought pressing onward. The only exception being that all of my friends are here. I thought about it longer, yep that’s about it. I wasn’t watching where I was going, just babbling along to myself in my head, when I ran smack dab into someone. I shivered again, feeling like I had just stepped into a meat locker. The other person didn’t say a word, just kept on going right down the hall. “Sorry,” I called after his tall figure, but he didn’t respond and he didn’t turn back.
Halfway through the first day of school and I’m already dragging myself to my next class. I perk up a little when I glance over my schedule again because even though I know it sounds lame, I love cooking, and fourth period just so happens to be Home Economics. Plus, it’s genuinely easy and that means there’s no way I could mess it up. I’m almost to the door, my hand practically touching the knob, when I hear Luke calling my name. I groaned and tried to hide my disappointment. He finally spotted me. I’ve done my best to avoid him, but I knew it was inevitable.
Okay, I guess he might be considered my boyfriend for all intents and purposes, but in no way does he act like it. I always see him flirting with other girls and just being a two-timing jerk in general. And the way he looks at me sometimes is the way he looks at a piece of meat, or Joanne as I like to call her. She loathes me for dating Luke, and I really don’t know what anyone sees in him anyway. The whole situation just makes my skin crawl.
“Hey beautiful,” Luke said snapping me out of reverie.
His sandy brown hair and blue eyes attract everyone’s attention. Well, almost everyone anyway. I seem to be the only one in school unimpressed by it. But he was that sort, the kind of guy who refused to believe that a woman might not find him attractive, might not be flattered by his attentions. He sauntered my direction in his blue and white striped button-up, baby blue muscle shirt underneath, and dark blue denim jeans. His hands were strategically placed in his pockets. He looked a little bit taller and more built now, his muscles rippled beneath the surface of his layers of clothing. I hated to admit that, for at least today, he looked rather gorgeous. But I know his game so I pretend not to notice.
“Oh hey,” I replied nonchalantly while picking at the hem of my shirt.
He caught me off guard by wrapping one arm around my waist, the other around my back, and pulling me in closer to him. The scent of SoCal cologne mixed with ocean water wafting from his skin. His voice came out almost a whisper, “What are you doing tonight? You want to come over to my place and study?”
I grimaced internally, not wanting him to catch on to just how absolutely repulsed I am by him. If I had a nickel for every time he used this same line on me, I’d be rich. You’d think he’d have come up with something cleverer by now, especially since it’s the first day of school and there isn’t even anything to study yet. I wiggled free of his hold, which is hard to do when he smells so good that your body refuses to move, but your brain is telling you to get the heck out of dodge.
“Ugh, nope sorry, I’ve already got plans. But thanks for the invite,” I said trying to push past him.
He reached out and snagged my arm gently, pulling me close to him again. While rubbing his temples with his other hand he said calmly, “You can’t keep blowing me off Callie, were supposed to be dating.”
“I’m not blowing you off, it’s just that I already made plans,” I said defiantly. “Definitely next time though.”
A smirk crossed his face and if testing the validity of my statement he said, “How about the movies Friday night then?”
My mind went reeling in a thousand different directions. Giving him a yes will lead him on, but if I say no he’s only going to get more persistent and I guess I can’t necessarily blame him. I don’t think we’ve ever gone on a date and we’ve supposedly been going steady for almost a year. Our tragically fake relationship was just to keep guys off of me so I could focus on school. I wish I had the guts to just dump him in some dramatic way right here to embarrass him. I’m too nice though, I guess. Hesitating slightly I give in. “Alright fine, but nothing gruesome alright?”
His eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. “You got it babe.”
I had to fight the urge to smack him upside the head. I hate it when he calls me that. I knew what was coming next as he slid his hand up my back and into my hair, pulling my face towards his. I tried to relax when I felt his hot breath on my skin. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for the worst, and when I say worst, I really mean it. Kissing Luke is like kissing a wet warty frog that won’t stop trying to eat your tongue. Disgusting! When he’s done attacking my face he releases his grip and smiles. “Catch you on the flip side.”
Where does he even get these cheesy lines from? I tried to return his enthusiasm and replied, “See ya.”
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