The Soul Mate Series
True Connection
Book One
By: Rachel Walter
KINDLE EDITION
*****
PUBLISHED BY:
Rachel Walter
True Connection (The Soul Mates Series book one)
Copyright © Rachel Walter 2013
Thank you for purchasing this eBook.
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or dialogues is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover Design By: Regina Wamba at www.maeidesign.com
Copyright © Mae I Design and Photography
Model: Sara Ritchie
Editors: Editing Divas, Emma Hart, and Helen Boswell
Proofread by: Kathalene Miller
ISBN: 978-0-615-84976-8
Acknowledgments:
I have so many people I’d like to thank. My friends and family have supported and encouraged me in so many ways.
My husband encouraged me to write and even went out and bought me a laptop so that I could save my hand from Carpal Tunnel. Thank you for being my rock and dealing with all of my panic and worry. I never could’ve gotten through certain phases of this journey without you.
I need to give a special thanks to two of my step kids, Asia and Bryce. They both have encouraged and supported me in this and have even watched their little sister for me from time to time so that I could write. Asia’s excitement over what I created gave me the drive I needed to complete it. A special, giant ‘thank you’ saved up for a very good friend of mine, my step kids’ mom, Talia. She read Jazzy and Seth’s story every step of the way. Love you! (Look, I had the **** to actually publish this!
Mary, thank you for helping me with everything through this strange journey, I don’t even know what to say. I hope I make you proud! This book wouldn’t even have a title without out your light bulb moment when you were riding the four wheelers! Cody, my “Henry,” you were some of the inspiration with several of the characters. I hope I filtered it properly. Thank you for listening to my worries and calming my panic, like always.
A special thank you goes to my mama. I told her I was thinking about writing this story, and sort of gave her an overview, back when I hadn’t wrote the first word to the story yet. She told me that I could do this, that I have a knack for telling a story and just sucking someone in. I don’t have the courage to stand up and tell stories when I’m not comfortable. So writing is something I could excel in. I really hope she’s right. She also skipped out on sleep, neglected her shows, and so much more to read this and she even helped me to edit.
To my critique partner (aka, my vice president), Emma Hart, you my dear are amazing and I love you! You made TC what it is, with your suggestions, questions, thoughts, and the insane amount of time we talk. Thank you for putting up with me!
Dani, Cricket, Chris, Toph, and Carey – Thank you so much for your encouragement, thoughts, reading anything I threw your way and putting up with my crazy and never once telling me to stuff it! You’re the best! Boss man, David James, the shouty messages and your encouragements get to me every single time, even if they left me terrified! Don’t stop!
Thank you to everyone who beta read for me. I’d be lost without you!
To every blogger and promoter that helped me, a humongous thank you and lots of squeezy hugs! I appreciate every single one of you!
Julia Bade, thank you so much for everything that you have done for me, especially for telling me that I need to keep my ‘big girl panties firmly in place’ in a moment of panic.
To all of my friends, new and old, you all are amazing support. Each one of you helped me in ways that I can’t thank you enough. You all keep my sanity in check.
To you, you wonderful reader or reviewer you, thank you so much for allowing me to share my story with you and taking a chance on me. I wish I could thank everyone individually. I wish you well, and hope that you find happiness and love in all that you do.
Editing Divas! I love you! Thank you so much for all of your help!
Dedication
This book is dedicated to anyone who has lost a loved one. I hope everyone can find a bit of happiness in their lives and hold on to it. No matter where the happiness comes from, embrace it and always remember to love.
“Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.”
~Anne Frank, Diary of a Young Girl
Chapter 1
Starting Over
Two months, four days and twelve hours ago, my life was perfect, whole. But now? Now it’s shattered and missing some important pieces.
These are the thoughts running through my mind as I stare at my alarm clock. I’m awake ten minutes before it’s set to go off. It was set for two hours before school starts anyway. My new school.
It’s April, and my brother and I had to move to Lupiterra to live with our uncle. Nine weeks away from the end of the year. But this isn’t just any school, though. This is Lupiterra High School, our old school’s rival.
At our old school, Penn Wood, I was on the volleyball team and my brother was on the football team.
We used to be the Warriors.
Now we’ll be the Trojans.
At Penn Wood, Lupiterra is known as Birth Control High or Condomville.
I roll my eyes as I get out of bed.
A rhythmic tapping on my door lets me know my uncle is done in the shower, and if I want to beat my brother, I should probably hustle.
I grab undies and a bra from my dresser drawer before reaching in my closet for my sister’s favorite band tee and some skinny jeans. Then I run to the bathroom.
After blow drying my hair, I check over my appearance in the mirror and tuck the front of my shirt into my jeans. Checking my hair once more, I run my fingers through and pull it up. “Looks like a damn blonde rat’s nest,” I growl and leave it down.
As I look over my face, I sigh at the bags under my eyes. Grabbing my foundation, I apply enough to hide the bags then put the rest of my make-up away and leave the bathroom.
“Mornin’,” my brother Henry mumbles as he sneaks past me to get in the bathroom.
I go back into my room and grab my schoolbag, iPod and phone. Before leaving my room again, I pause at last year’s family photo on my desk.
My family was whole then.
The doorbell pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance at the clock. That would be my cousin Alex’s nanny, Miss Jaynie.
I run down the steps to let her in. She’s in her forties, has the most amazing southern twang, and makes the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.
I smile as I open the door.
“Mornin’, Sugar!” she grins and kisses my cheek.
“Good morning,” I smile and follow her into the kitchen.
The smell of coffee brewing makes my mouth water and Leland, my NHL superstar uncle, hands me my favorite cup. I grin at him.
Leland had this girlfriend almost two years
ago, “Psycho Sammy.” She hated my mom, and no one knew why. She ended up telling Leland that he and his sister were “freaks of nature” and siblings shouldn’t be that close, twins or not. After she left my uncle, we thought we’d never see her again. Turns out, Leland got her pregnant. After she had Alex, she dropped him off, and we haven’t seen her since. Leland said he saw her a few times for legal things, but she never once asked about her child.
“Are you excited for today?” Miss Jaynie asks. I snort.
“She and Henry have some not-so-nice things to say about this school,” Leland says, shooting me a look.
“Yea, well…” I shrug.
Miss Jaynie laughs, but doesn’t say a word.
Henry comes running into the kitchen and grabs an apple.
“You ready?”
“I guess,” I shrug and we say our goodbyes.
“I’m sure you’ll have a great day!” Miss Jaynie winks. I smile and close the front door.
We walk to Henry’s Dodge Charger in silence but as soon as we get in, he starts talking.
“Jazzy, if today sucks, well we know it will. But if it’s too much for you, find me and we’ll leave,” he says.
“I know. I love you, too.” I grin, and he laughs as he backs out of the drive. Only Prettier by Miranda Lambert comes on the radio and reminds me of “Psycho Sammy.” She used to say Miranda Lambert was her soul sister. “Hey, bud?”
“Hmmm?”
“Do you think we’re weird?” I ask, fiddling with a loose string on the strap of my bag.
“Well, I’m not sure what you mean, but you know you’re strange and you know I’m awesome. Does that help?”
“That doesn’t really help at all,” I deadpan.
“Fine, what do you mean then?” He gives me a sideways glance and raises a brow.
“Well, you remember Psycho Sammy? She said Mom and Leland were weird and…”
He interrupts me. “We are not discussing that crazy lady again. Why are you thinking about her anyway?”
I suddenly feel stupid for even thinking about it and bringing it up. I never thought we were weird, but we’re going to Lupiterra now, where no one knows the real us. They only know the Williams’ on the field and on the court.
“I was just thinking, you and I are a lot like Mom and Leland, even if we’re not twins like them,” I rush to explain. “We’re always together, run with the same circle of friends. You know when I’m about to freak and I know you. We have the same relationship Mom and Leland do. You know - the ‘ungenetic twin’ thing. Is it weird that we’re like this?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer as he drives.
He finally speaks after what felt like hours.
“Sophie always said we were freaks. She couldn’t figure out why we finished each other’s sentences and never really fought. Well, nowhere near as bad as you and her, or me and her.” I nod slightly, remembering how our sister used to tease us. Remembering her.
‘Please Sophie, make it. You’re strong, just hang on. They’ve got you now.’ Memories from that night begin to swim in my mind, as if it were happening all over again.
I pinch my leg to clear my head and refocus on Henry.
“I don’t know why we are the way we are, but I don’t want to change it.” He smiles at me quickly. “I think that if Mom and Dad wouldn’t have adopted me, I would’ve found you somehow, a hockey game, maybe.” He grins. “But you’d still be my best friend.” He shrugs. “When we find the person we fall in love with, they aren’t gonna act like Sammy. They’ll be more like Dad, and be okay with it. Accept the fact that we’re siblings, and we’re very close, ‘freaky close’ even. But no, I don’t think we are weird. This is our normal. Who cares what anyone else thinks?” He shoves my arm with his elbow and grins.
I shake away memories of Dad putting his hands on our shoulders to keep us in our seats at our uncle’s hockey games. We’d be so into the game that we would argue with the refs and other players.
I can’t think about them right now.
“You know what, Stud?” I hold in my laughter from using the nickname. “For a teenage boy, you are rather wise, sometimes.” I smile and wink. “You can also be kind of girly.”
“Shut up, Beautiful.” He laughs.
A little more than two years ago, Henry and I were fighting over something. We were being incredibly mean and calling each other nasty names. Mom got wind of it and told us to compliment each other. Then we had to hug it out on the couch for half an hour as punishment.
We just stared at each other for a long time. I couldn’t think of anything nice, since I was still mad at him. He finally said, “You’re a beautiful sister.” Not to be outdone, I responded with, “You’re a studly brother.” Mom laughed first, and Henry and I joined her almost immediately. Since then, I am Beautiful and he is Stud.
He drives through the student lot and finds an empty spot.
Great. We are now on birth control premises.
After checking in at the main office, Henry and I part ways.
The halls are plastered with pep-squad paraphernalia, posters reading “We Are The Trojans!”, “Mighty, Mighty Trojans!” and the like. I would love to stop by the drugstore, spend a good chunk of change on that brand of birth control, and glue them to the posters. But I won’t mess up my education and get into trouble for a stupid prank.
Besides, what’s high school without ‘peppy’ posters and school spirit?
With a sigh, I walk into my first class of the day.
First and second hour are fairly boring, and I get loaded with work because my old school and this school don’t follow the same curriculum. My favorite class is up next: Acrylics. I talk to the teacher, Mr. Becker, first and he says that everyone is finishing up the last project but I can get started on the next one.
My seat is between a jock type guy and a goth girl. I glance at what they’re working on as I set up my canvas. The girl is painting a rose bush, and the guy is painting something that looks diseased.
The next assignment is landscape. I tap my pencil to my chin. I could do a beach, a forest… I’ll do the lake behind my uncle’s! It’s beautiful back there, and I can do it from memory.
Class is about halfway over when I hear the girl say, “Hey, that’s the back of my house, but the roof has more of a slope to the right from that angle.” I still my hand and look at what I’ve drawn so far. Trees on the other side of the lake and the backs of four houses were on the canvas. She’s right. The third house to the left, the roof needs adjusting.
“Hi, my name is Delilah, but don’t call me that. I’m not a valley girl. Call me Skeeter.” She smiles. “You’re the new girl, Jasmine, right?”
“It’s Jaz. Nice to meet you.” I smile at her and I go back to working on my sketch. Maybe I came off as rude because she makes an annoyed noise. Jock Boy starts chuckling.
“Don’t let Skeeter get to ya, Jaz. She doesn’t understand people when they’re in a creative zone,” he says when I glance his way.
Okay then. Jock-boy looks like he forgot his ‘creative zone’ at home, but who am I to judge?
“At least I have a creative bone in my body, to get it into a zone, Derik. Your lilies look like they have the flu,” Skeeter says. This actually makes me laugh, outside of my head. I think Skeeter and I will be great friends.
The silence in the room ceases to exist when Jock Boy, aka Derik, says, “Do you know that from how you’re drawing that, it looks like you’re looking from Leland Jefferies’ backyard?”
I inwardly groan. Why didn’t I just do a beach or a river? I should’ve known someone would recognize this. Skeeter figured it out earlier, too.
“Do you know who Leland Jefferies is?” One of Derik’s friends yell from across the room.
“He plays for the NHL! Oh, that’s hockey, sweetheart.” Derik explains.
I roll my eyes. What an idiot!
I put my canvas and pencil away. Having heard Derik, several of his friends come over and start t
alking to him about my uncle and his stats. Apparently, they know he has a twin sister and say she’s a “hottie”. But thank goodness they don’t remember his nieces and nephew.
“So, how did you get to see where Leland Jefferies lives if you’re the new girl?” one of Derik’s buddies asks.
I ignore them and go talk to Mr. Becker, who allows me to leave early to run to the nurse. Of course, I’m not actually going to the nurse. I just need to escape. I notice everyone staring at me as I grab my bag and head for the door with a flame-red face.
I’m about half way down the hall when I hear footsteps behind me. When I look over my shoulder, no one is there. Maybe I just hear the echo of my own footsteps. But the whole way to the locker room, I can feel eyes on my back and hear footsteps behind me. I just need to get through this next hour and I’ll have a whole sane hour with my brother.
After gym, I go to the cafeteria hallway and find a bunch of people standing around. I search the sea of faces for my brother. He’s surrounded by a bunch of girls. Go figure, new school equals new ‘fan club.’
Someone grabs my arm and halts my progress towards my brother, and I let out a very girly scream. It’s Derik. I put an annoyed mask on my face, look at his hand and back up to his face, hoping he’ll get the message to let go. But luck is not on my side today, and he pulls me close to him.
“Sweetheart,” I cringe at the use of a term of endearment in reference to me. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in art. Would you allow me to make it up to you?” He smiles, puts his other arm around my shoulders and moves his other hand from my arm down to my hands.
“How exactly are you planning on doing that?” I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“I’m about to make you very happy,” he says with a smug look on his face.
“By letting go of me, right?”
“No, I’m gonna let you sit with me at lunch. You can be my new girl. You’re so beautiful. You deserve to sit with me, the star-quarterback. We’d be a power couple.” He squeezes me closer to him, letting his hand roam a bit.
True Connection (The Soul Mate Series) Page 1
