SARAH KAY CARTER
SHIFT
Copyright
This book is a work a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Shift ©2012 by Sarah Kay Carter.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of Sarah Kay Carter.
Cover Design by:
Anmar Nevarez
[email protected]
www.anmarnevarez.com
Edited by:
Samantha Gudger
https://www.facebook.com/samantha.m.gudger
This book would not exist if it wasn't for our early morning, major texting session. So, thank you Heather Murphy (Kidd). You are my writing....sidekick.
And to my husband, who always pushes me to be my best. I love you and thank you.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
A year and a half later…
Chapter 1
The alarm clock buzzes. Kayla’s hand shoots out from under the covers and slaps it. The clock slides off the table and crashes to the floor, accompanied by Kayla’s muffled groan from the bed. Five minutes later, a dance song blares from her cell phone. Kayla emits a throaty growl as she sits up in bed. She grabs the cell phone and turns off the alarm. “It’s too early,” she mumbles to herself, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Why am I so tired?”
Shaking her head, she throws the blankets back on the bed and swings her feet to the floor. She sits on the edge of her bed for a minute, trying to get the courage to stand up and start her day, but then she notices her feet. “What the…” Picking up her foot, Kayla examines it. Her toes and the sole of her foot are covered in dirt. Kayla growls and dusts the dirt off. “Again?”
She stomps into the hallway. Noise filters up to her from downstairs. “Mom?” she hollers.
It takes a second before Kayla’s mother comes around the corner of the steps and sighs. “Good morning, Kayla, what’s wrong this time?”
“I think I’m sleepwalking again.”
Her mom furrows her eyebrows and rings her hands. “Do you remember anything?”
“No,” Kayla grumbles. “But look at my feet. They’re filthy.” She sticks out her foot for her mom to see. “I took a shower before I went to bed.”
A heavy sigh escapes her mom. “Honey, the front door is still locked. I think you’re imagining things.”
With a disgusted look, Kayla snaps, “Mom. My feet are covered in dirt…like garden dirt. I keep my room as clean as a hospital.”
“Well, you aren’t bleeding, so I think you’re fine.”
“So you’re only going to be worried if I lose a limb?”
A gentle sigh comes from her mom. “Kayla, what do you want us to do, put up cameras or an alarm?”
“No, but if I hurt myself, I’m going to be really angry.”
“Okay, honey, get ready for school. Tracy will be here in an hour to pick you up.”
Crossing her arms, Kayla articulates, “If you got me a car, I wouldn’t have to get a ride from Tracy.”
“Kayla, my dear, we have gone over this. When you graduate, we will look into getting you a car.”
“Whatever, I’m going to get ready for school.” Kayla spins on her heels and walks into her room.
An hour later, she is putting her jacket on as her dad comes out of the kitchen. “Got all your books?”
“Yeah, of course, do you not know your daughter?”
“Yes, we know you’re a straight A student and are in the running for valedictorian. You remind us every day.”
Kayla grins. “I have my calculus test today and I’m going to ace it. I studied all night.”
“Apparently you studied outside too. Your mom told me about your feet.” He chuckles.
“Aren’t you worried about me? Isn’t it weird?”
Her dad takes a sip of coffee. “I used to sleepwalk when I was your age, and I turned out fine. I think it’s a hereditary thing.”
“Whatever, I’m going to fall off a bridge or something and then you and Mom will wish you took it seriously.”
A honk sounds from outside. Her dad points to the door. “I’ll walk you out.” They walk out onto the porch and see a blue Ford Focus. A girl rolls down the window and waves. Kayla’s dad says, “Good morning, Tracy.”
The curly-haired brunette smiles. “Good morning, Mr. Hendrickson.”
“I’ve told you to call me Jerry.”
“My mom taught me better than that, Mr. Hendrickson. Come on, Kayla. I want to go through the drive-through and get coffee!”
Turning, Kayla kisses her dad on the cheek. “See ya later, Pops.”
“Have a good day, girls,” her father shouts behind her.
She runs down the steps to her friend’s car. Kayla opens the door and asks, “Are you going to buy me coffee?”
“Shouldn’t you be buying me coffee? I’m the one picking you up.”
Kayla sighs. “Fine.” She pulls down the visor and opens the mirror to check her makeup. Smiling, Kayla says, “Perfect.” Her eye shadow makes the green of her hazel eyes pop. She fidgets with her long, chestnut brown hair, which she curled this morning. Kayla turns her head to check out the stripe of blue on the side. “I still can’t believe my mom let me put color in my hair.”
“Girl, your parents are awesome.”
“They’re not bad. I say we try and talk your mom into letting you add color to your hair.”
Tracy raises an eyebrow. “Hell would freeze over before that happens.”
“Hey, your mom bought you a car. My mom just let me dye my hair blue.”
“True. So did you do anything but study last night?”
Kayla rolls her eyes. “You know I have a calculus test today.”
“I have a test too, but I managed to do something else besides study.”
“Yeah, I bet you texted Bradley all night.”
Tracy wiggles her eyebrows. “You know it.”
“Girl, you never quit.”
“I make time for boys, unlike you.”
With a smug look, Kayla says, “I’ll meet smart, intelligent, awesome guys when I go to college. The guys in our school are stupid.”
“No one can keep up with you intellectually, huh?”
“Nope.”
They both laugh. Tracy leans over and cranks up the volume on the radio. Both girls start singing to the music and continue until they arrive at school. With their coffees in hand, they walk into the old brick building of the acade
my. Kayla begged her parents to let her go to the private school, and she’s happy they did because she met Tracy freshman year. Two years later, they are inseparable.
“I’m going to head to French,” Tracy says as she turns around. “Good luck on your test if I don’t see you before then.”
“You too,” Kayla yells after her. With a smile, she heads to her locker. As Kayla turns the corner, something slams into her hand and her coffee spills all over her arm. “What the…watch where you’re going,” she snaps at the person in front of her.
When there is no response, she looks up and her eyes widen. The guy towers over her petite frame by at least six inches. He is muscular and very good-looking. His brown hair hangs in his face a little bit, but what strikes Kayla are his eyes. They are almost exactly like hers, a mixture of greens and gold. She hasn’t seen anyone else with eyes that vibrant.
“Sorry,” she says slowly. “I didn’t mean to yell.” The guy just stares at Kayla for a second and then walks past her. She watches him go. “Who in the world are you?” she mutters to herself.
Annoyed, Kayla is almost late for class since she has to clean herself up. The bell rings as she runs into the classroom. “Good job being on time, Miss Hendrickson.”
Kayla sighs and slides into her seat. She takes a sip of her remaining coffee and then sets the cup on her desk. Her teacher starts the day’s lesson, so Kayla quickly retrieves her notebook to take notes. About five minutes into class, someone saunters into the room, interrupting the lecture. Kayla raises an eyebrow when she realizes it’s the guy she ran into who spilled coffee all over her. He walks over to the teacher and murmurs something.
“Oh, yes,” her teacher exclaims. “Class, we have a new student. His name is Jackson Blakely. He actually comes to us from China.”
“You don’t look Chinese,” says one of the guys from the back of the classroom.
Spinning around in her seat, Kayla looks at him and snaps, “Really? I thought this school was for gifted students.”
“Shut up, Kayla,” the guy retorts. “We can’t all be super geniuses.”
“Obviously,” a deep voice says from the front of the room. Everyone looks at Jackson. He snidely remarks, “It was an astute observation that I am not of Chinese descent. I have no idea how you figured that out so quickly.”
Kayla snorts and laughs at the same time. The guy turns his gaze to her. She is taken aback because of the annoyed look he gives her. Shocked, Kayla stares back at him.
“Jackson, you can sit in the empty seat next to Miss Hendrickson,” her teacher says, pointing to the desk next to Kayla.
Jackson walks over and drops into the chair. He puts his backpack down and leans back. Kayla watches him out of the corner of her eye and sees him look at her. She starts scribbling in her notebook, acting like she wasn’t paying him any attention.
When the bell rings, Jackson nearly sprints out of the classroom. Kayla shakes her head and follows everyone out the door. She throws her cup into the garbage on her way to Honors World History.
When Kayla arrives, she frowns at the sight of Jackson taking the seat behind hers. Standing in the doorway, she tries to think of what to do before finally deciding to be the diplomat. With her head held high, she crosses the room and sits in her seat.
Turning around, she says, “Hi, I’m Kayla. I wanted to introduce myself and apologize for earlier. I swear I’m not a bitch.”
“I wouldn't care if you were,” Jackson replies with a dead stare.
Kayla opens her mouth and then shuts it. After a second, she says, “I wanted to at least say I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” Jackson sighs with a rather blasé attitude.
“Yeah, anyway, I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone with IQ points higher than a caveman’s.”
Jackson stares at her. “What if I like talking to people from prehistoric eras?”
“Then you’ll fit in well here.”
Jackson snorts. They sit in silence, just kind of staring at each other. Kayla feels uneasy because she senses him studying her. Finally, Jackson says, “You aren’t what I expected.”
“What?” Kayla asks, confused.
Jackson shakes his head like he’s trying to redirect his thoughts. “As a student at this school, you aren’t what I expected.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Withholding emotion, he murmurs, “I don’t know yet.”
The bell rings, forcing Kayla to turn around. Her teacher claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Today, class, we continue our study of East Asia, specifically Japan. Did everyone do their homework?” Grumbling erupts around the room. The teacher sighs and then looks at Kayla. “I bet you did your homework, Miss Hendrickson.”
“Of course,” Kayla chirps back. Behind her, Jackson gives an audible snort. She slowly turns and looks at him. He matches her intense stare. Annoyed, she turns back to her teacher. “Yes, Mr. Finley, I did the homework.”
“Good, then can you tell me when the first inhabitants occupied that island area?”
Smiling, Kayla answers, “20,000 B.C.”
“Actually,” Jackson says, “It was 30,000 B.C.”
“Very good, Mr. Blakely,” the teacher responds. “Now, what was the first written history of the Japanese people?”
Kayla is about to answer, but Jackson says, “The Book of Han,” before Kayla can open her mouth.
“Mr. Blakely, you seem very knowledgeable. Did you read the assignment?” the teacher asks.
“No, he lived in China,” Kayla declares sharply.
Mr. Finley nods his head. “Then maybe you can give us more information on the history of the Eastern Asian countries as we go along.” With a smile, he starts his lecture.
Startled, Kayla jumps when she hears, “I knew all that stuff before I moved to China,” whispered behind her. She glances over her shoulder at Jackson. He relaxes in his chair and smirks. For some reason, that one action rubs Kayla the wrong way. Returning her focus to the front of the classroom, she crosses her arms and pays attention to Mr. Finley, though she swears she can feel Jackson staring at the back of her head the entire time.
When the bell rings, Kayla grabs her stuff and practically runs out of the room. She has calculus next and needs to prepare for the big test. When she arrives, she takes her seat and grabs her notes for one last look. Kayla tries to concentrate, but Jackson keeps popping up in her head. Grumbling, she is relieved when class starts and he doesn’t show up. The hour flies by, and Kayla breezes through the test.
After class, she blissfully walks to her locker where she finds Tracy waiting for her. When Kayla is finally within ear shot, Tracy exclaims, “Oh my gosh! Have you seen the new guy?”
“Yeah,” Kayla mumbles. “He's in my first two classes and sits by me. His name is Jackson.”
“Dude, he’s hot!”
Kayla rolls her eyes. “I guess.”
“I guess? There is no guessing. He’s hot.”
“Aren’t you interested in Bradley right now?”
“Well, yeah, but I can still admire other guys. So what’s he like?”
“I don’t know,” Kayla exhales. “I can’t say yet.”
Tracy leans against the lockers. “Have you talked to him?”
“Yeah, he’s kind of cold.”
“Whatever you say. He was just in advanced calculus and corrected Mr. Smith.”
With a tug, Kayla opens her locker. “He’s in advanced calc? Good for him.”
“Hey, he’s an intelligent and attractive guy. Maybe I shouldn’t be the one curious about him,” Tracy quips as she playfully elbows her. Kayla shoves her books in her locker and ignores her friend.
“Watch out, here comes Jude,” Tracy whispers.
Kayla stiffens and closes her eyes. She shuts her locker door and turns around to watch Jude approach her.
“Good morning, Kayla,” Jude says.
“What not-so-charming platitude do you have to bore me with
today?” she asks.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jude replies with a cocky attitude and an evil smirk.
Kayla crosses her arms. “What do you want?”
“I heard you got corrected in class today. That doesn’t happen very often, huh? Maybe the smartest girl in school really isn’t that smart.”
Narrowing her eyes, Kayla says, “I never said I was perfect.”
“That’s obvious.”
“Why don’t you go jump off a bridge?” Kayla suggests with a smile.
Jude smirks. “That would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”
“Do you know what would make me happy? Kicking you between the legs.”
“If you really want to get him, take the inside of your shoe and shove it down his shin. You have hard soles on; it’ll leave a mark.” Kayla turns toward the voice to see Jackson standing behind her. “And if you are going to kick him between the legs, do it from behind him, that hurts more, but it may also keep him from reproducing.” He shifts his eyes to Jude. “Not that that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
Tracy laughs. Kayla can’t even move her lips.
“Dude,” Jude says. “Who in the hell do you think you are?”
“Your worst nightmare if you aren’t careful,” Jackson replies. He glares at Jude for a second and then brushes past him, but not before shoving him into the lockers with his shoulder.
“That was awesome!” Tracy exclaims as she laughs harder.
Jude growls. “I’m surprised to see a guy defend you. I didn’t even think you liked guys.”
“I like guys,” Kayla retorts. “Just not pigheaded losers with small…minds.” Tracy doubles over laughing as a large smile spreads across Kayla’s face.
“Whatever,” Jude spits out before storming away.
Tracy steps in front of Kayla. “Whatever you said to the new guy must have left an impression.”
“I guess,” Kayla whispers, staring down the hall where Jackson disappeared into the crowd, confused by why he stood up for her.
The girls look for Jackson in the cafeteria at noon, but they don’t see him. Tracy can’t keep quiet and immediately tells their friends what happened with Jude. Kayla is lost in her thoughts and eats her lunch quietly. She can’t seem to get Jackson off her mind, and everyone talking about him isn’t helping.
Shift (The Neturu Chronicles) Page 1
