Finding Me (The Spy Chronicles Book 1)

by Scarlett Haven

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Sunday, August 13

  Monday, August 14

  Tuesday, August 15

  Wednesday, August 16

  Thursday, August 17

  Friday, August 18

  Saturday, August 19

  Monday, August 21

  Tuesday, August 22

  Author's Note

  More Books By Scarlett

  Find Scarlett Online

  Acknowledgments

  Finding Me

  Spy Chronicles, Book 1

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2016 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.wordpress.com

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Michelle Cockrum.

  Cover by Scarlett Haven.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Sunday, August 13

  Never come back.

  I am standing outside in the middle of a rain storm in August. Most people would think I’m weird for it, but I love the rain. I love the smell right before the sky opens up. I love the feeling of each splash as it hits my skin. And most of all, I love how, for just a few moments, I am completely alone. I can’t hear anything but the rain. No screaming parents. No mean stepbrother. Just me. And the freedom each drop brings.

  Spinning around in a circle, I love the way water is flung from my skirt. I slip on the wet grass and fall down. I’m dizzy, so I lay on the ground, now watching the sky. The drops burn as they hit my eyes, but I don’t care. I like the pain.

  Nobody knows me. Not my neighbors, not people I go to school with, not even my family. Somedays I am convinced that I don’t even know myself. How could I? I haven’t experienced anything to know if I like it. But here is what I know so far.

  First, I love the color orange. Like the color of the sky, right as the sun is setting. It is absolutely my favorite thing in the entire world. And I wonder, do all sunsets look like they do in Florida? Or is it different in other parts of the world?

  Second, I love the smell of salt water. Even though I live in Florida, I have never been to the beach, but sometimes, when the wind is blowing, I smell the salt water. I try to imagine what it’s like to walk on the sand and feel the waves crash around my ankles. I think it would be nice.

  And third, this one I’m not sure about, but I think I’m a people person. I love watching people to see how they interact with each other. I always wonder what it would be like to be them… to have friends. I wonder what makes each person who they are. I wonder what they are thinking. But I’m not sure that I will ever truly know.

  I am seventeen years old, and my parents don’t let me go anywhere besides school. Straight to school, straight home. I’m scared to talk to anybody at school. Last time I did, I was grounded for a whole month. Grounded in my house means that I don’t get food. So, for a whole month, the only food I got was from the school cafeteria, which is barely enough to feed a chicken. I lost ten pounds, which doesn’t seem like much, but when you’re already underweight, it’s a lot. It took me a whole year to gain three pounds back.

  So, yeah. I am not making the mistake of talking to anybody again. Instead, I will talk to them in my head. We have nice conversations. Conversations about music and books. Everybody will laugh at a joke I made. If only it were real.

  But things won’t always be like they are now, right? Someday, when I’m an adult, I will get out of here. Maybe I will go to college or get a job. I’ll get my own place and then I can make friends. That sounds really nice.

  Someday.

  “Karlie, Mom needs you to take out the trash,” my stepbrother, Andrew, says from the doorway of the house. He doesn’t step outside, but he also doesn’t take out the garbage. Nope, he’s not their slave. I am.

  I get up from the ground, not caring that I’m soaking wet, and head inside to gather the garbage. I’m leaving puddles behind, and know that I will have to mop them up later. I am the maid at my house. I am everything here—the cook, the cleaner, the “do whatever I tell you to, because I hate you”.

  Yep, that’s me.

  “Karlie, go take a shower,” I hear my stepdad says. “And mop up these puddles.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, with the garbage slung over my shoulder. I take it out to the garage, putting it in the garbage, and then I go upstairs to do as my stepfather said. I know he will be listening and I know what the punishment is for not doing as I’m told. I can’t afford to lose any more weight.

  An hour later, I am showered, have the house cleaned, and dinner cooked. I made spaghetti and my mother is complaining about carbs. I just keep my mouth shut and eat the food, because I know this is all I will get. This small portion. Even though there is plenty of food, I can never get seconds. My mom says seconds will “make me fat.”

  Just once, I wish I could disappear. But I know, if I could leave this house, I would never come back.

  Jax.

  After I wash all the dishes from dinner, I head outside. It has stopped raining and I want to take a walk to clear my head. There is a park not too far from our house that nobody is ever at after dark. I like to go there and swing on the swing set. I often wonder what other girls my age do, but I don’t guess I’ll ever know.

  The August air is humid, even this late at night, and I know it will probably be hot until October.

  The sound of creaking makes me look up. There is a boy a little older than me sitting on the swing next to me.

  “Is this swing taken?” he asks.

  Too shocked to answer, I just shake my head no.

  “I’m Jax, by the way. Jaxon,” he says. “With an X. My parents obviously never wanted anybody to spell my name right.”

  “Karlie. With a K,” I say. “Nobody spells my name right either.”

  “Karlie,” he says. “You are my next door neighbor.”

  “Am I?” I ask.

  I’ve never seen this guy before and I’m surprised to hear him say he’s my neighbor. How has he noticed me, but I’ve never noticed him.

  “Are you in college?” I ask.

  “Not at the moment,” he says.

  “What are you doing then? With your time, I mean.”

  “Working,” he answers.

  “Huh,” I say. “Maybe I’ll get a job after high school. I haven’t decided yet if I want to go straight to get a full time job or go to college. I suppose it depends on my grades and what I can afford. Maybe I’ll get a scholarship.”

  “Tell me, Karlie, what were you doing in the rain earlier?” he asks.

  My face grows warm. “I… umm… I… I just… I just…”

  “Like the rain?”

  I nod, feeling foolish.

  Finally, I get the opportunity talk to somebody and I can’t even speak without stuttering. This is an epic disaster.

  I take a moment to study the boy next to me. He’s averaged sized and an average height. But he’s got nice biceps, and I can tell he works out. His skin is tanned, like he’s spent a lot of time in the sun. His hair is dirty blond, with lighter colors of blond throughout his head. It looks like it’s lightened naturally from the sun. It’s longer on the top of his head and shorter on the sides. And his eyes are pale green.

  He is looking at me, studying me in the same manner.

  “School starts tomorrow,” I tell him.

  “School,” he repeats.

  I nod. “I’m a senior this year. And my stepbrother… he… he graduated last year.”

&n
bsp; “Are you nervous to go to school without him?” Jax asks.

  I shake my head vigorously, probably looking stupid, but I don’t care. “I’m excited. But what if people don’t like me?”

  “Karlie, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve been my next door neighbor for three years now,” Jax says.

  “I… I’ve lived… here three years,” I say, wishing I could stop sounding so nervous.

  “And you don’t have any friends?” he asks.

  I look away from him, not able to stand the intensity of his gaze. I just shake my head.

  No friends.

  He must think I’m a loser.

  Who doesn’t have friends? Even the most hated kids at school have at least one friend. I’m the only one who doesn’t.

  “I’ll be your friend,” he says.

  I look at Jax. “Really?”

  He nods.

  “You don’t think I’m… weird?”

  “Oh, you’re absolutely weird,” he says. “But I like weird.”

  I’m not sure if I’m supposed to cry or smile at his comment.

  Does he really think I’m weird? I mean, I know I am, but did he have to point it out?

  “I… I should go,” I say, standing up. “I need to get back before somebody notices I’m gone.”

  “Okay,” he says, looking a little disappointed. “If you ever need me, I live next door. Come over anytime, night or day.”

  I nod, and then turn away to head back home.

  “Karlie,” Jax says.

  I turn around to look at him.

  “Goodnight,” he says.

  “Night,” I say, lifting up a hand to wave at him.

  Suddenly, I’m not so sad about being weird.

  In fact, maybe I like it. Especially if it means I have my first friend ever.

  Monday, August 14

  Gage.

  I wake up on Monday morning with a little extra confidence. I already made one friend. How hard can it be to make a friend my senior year? Nobody would have to know. We could just be friends at school. Is that even possible?

  I put on my favorite dress. It’s a little big on me, but none of my clothes actually fit me.

  As I am waiting for the bus to arrive that morning, I look at the house across the street from mine. The house is usually empty, but now there is two cars sitting in front of it. The windows once were bare, but now have blinds hanging up. I wonder if this is where Jax lives. Maybe that’s why I never noticed him before. Maybe he was away and just moved back.

  The front door of the house opens, and I see somebody who is not Jax walk out, but before I can study the guy, the bus pulls up in front of me and I climb on, taking a seat in the first empty spot.

  All the people riding the bus are younger than me. In fact, nobody over the age of fifteen still rides the bus. Just me. I even rode the bus last year, even though my stepbrother drove to school in his car.

  The ride to school is crowded, bumpy, and noisy. The kids are all screaming and laughing. Every once in a while the driver will tell them to be quiet, but that only lasts for a few minutes. I don’t mind, though. Their laugher is like medicine. I’ve missed it so much in my own life, it’s nice to see that some people are happy.

  We pull up in front of the school that ironically looks more like a prison. Maybe that’s because it was a prison—in the 1930’s. They converted it to a school about thirty years ago, so I can literally say that my school is a prison. Except, it’s not. It’s actually an escape for me. Especially this year. Freedom. No family. For the first time ever, I truly am free.

  I take a deep breath before walking into the school. This is going to be a good day. A great day.

  But then I think about what my mom told me before I left for school. “Keep your head down, and don’t talk to anybody. If you do, I will know. And you know what will happen if I find out. Only this time, it won’t just be a month. I’ll make you go two months,” she had said.

  Her warning scares me. Will she really know if I talk to somebody? Before, my stepbrother told her. Who else will tell her? She doesn’t talk to anybody. Ever.

  Still, what if? I don’t want to go without food again. Just to prove her point, she wouldn’t let me eat breakfast. My stomach hurts because I’m so hungry, but I can make it. I’ve done it before.

  “Excuse me,” a boy says, stepping in front of me.

  I look up at the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re so dark, they almost look black. The guy’s hair is almost as dark as his eyes.

  “Can you tell me where room A…” he looks at a piece of paper, “A112 is.”

  “Ugh… yes,” I say, pushing some hair behind my ear. “That’s my class too.”

  “Cool,” he says.

  I start walking, and the boy follows me.

  “So, I’m new here, and you’re the first person I’ve met,” he says. “I’m Gage.”

  “I’m Karlie,” I say.

  “Karlie,” he says. “Do you want to be my friend?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I say, mostly out of fear. What if somebody is watching me right now? I look around to be sure.

  “Are you worried about being seen with me?” he asks. “Do you have a jealous boyfriend?”

  I snort. “No.”

  “Will your friends think I’m a nerd or something?” he asks.

  “I don’t have any friends,” I say, as we enter the classroom, but then remember Jax. “At least not any friends that go to this school.”

  “Then why don’t you want to be my friend?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” I say. “I just…” I look at the floor to avoid looking at him.

  “I’ll just have to prove I can be a good friend then,” he says.

  I take a seat at a desk in the middle of the class. Not too close to the front or back. I tend to blend. Gage takes a seat beside me, which makes me a little uncomfortable. While I want to be his friend, I am super worried.

  Gage doesn’t say anything, which makes me feel a little better. My mom can’t get onto me for sitting by a classmate. That’s inevitable. So I just pull a notebook and pencil out of my purple backpack. I’ve had the same one since my freshman year. I’ve had to repair and patch it a few times, but it’s better than nothing.

  I look over at Gage and see him doing something on his cellphone. I’m curious. I’ve never had a cellphone before. But I’ve learned from watching kids in school that they don’t like other people to see what they’re doing on their phone, so I look straight ahead. A few seconds later, I hear feet shuffling on the floor and somebody sits on the other side of me. I don’t look up, though. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that is a blond guy. He is on his phone, doing something.

  What is so great about a cellphone?

  Communication.

  Yeah, okay. That does sound pretty good. To be able to text and call people—what would that even be like?

  I see that the guy is looking at me, so I look over at him.

  He smiles at me, so I look forward again.

  What is up with people being so nice to me today?

  The classroom now starts to fill up, and for that I am thankful. I just want this day to be over.

  Best food ever.

  At lunch, I sit on the floor in a back corner of the cafeteria. It’s not very lit, and most people don’t notice I sit here. When people do notice, they just ignore me. I’ve been sitting here since freshman year. I’m known as “that weird loner girl”. If it keeps me out of trouble, I’ll wear the title.

  As I eat, I watch people. People all talking, laughing, joking… and I wonder what it would be like to be apart of it. I’m so engrossed in watching a table close by, I don’t notice somebody sitting beside me.

  I look over and see the boy from earlier, Gage, sit down.

  When he sits, I tense my body up.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he says. “I told you I was going to try and be a good friend.”

  My hand shakes as I go to take a
nother bite of food. I hope he doesn’t notice, but I can’t not eat because this might be the only meal I eat today if my mom finds out that Gage is talking to me.

  If Gage notices, he doesn’t say a word. He just eats beside me in complete silence.

  My mom is going to kill me.

  I eat my lunch as quickly as I can. I want to savor each bite, but I really need to get away from Gage. Before I am even halfway done, another boy sits down with us.

  Seriously?

  I look at my food, then at the boy.

  No, I have to eat.

  I’ll just ignore him.

  “Hey,” the guy says.

  I don’t look up, though. I just continue eat, ignoring my shaking hand. As soon as I shove the last bite in my mouth, I get up from the floor and walk briskly towards the dishwashers. I slide my plate across the medal platform, where a grumpy looking cafeteria lady takes the tray and rinses it off. I walk towards the exit, and then to my locker.

  When I open my locker, I grab my backpack, but I see there is also something else inside. A… bag of chips and a soda. The soda is still very cold. I pull them out and look at the small bag, and then look around.

  How did this get in there?

  I’m not allowed to eat chips or drink sodas.

  It could be somebody else’s.

  But I really want it. I grab them and walk into the closest bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, I quickly eat the chips and drink the soda, thinking they might just be the best food I have ever eaten.

  “So good,” I say, licking the left over flavor off my fingers. I toss the can and bag in the trash and then wash my hands before leaving the bathroom.

  I only feel slightly bad for eating whoever’s food that was.

  Brett.

  When I get off the bus at home, I am scared to death to walk inside. I imagine my mom will be waiting by the front door, ready to scold me. I walk inside, knowing it doesn’t do any good to prolong the punishment. Besides, I had chips. That should hold me over for the night.