by Quinn Loftis
The driver got out of the limo to go around and open the back passenger door, but before he could get there the door was already opening, and the boy who stepped out of that limo had to be the most beautiful guy Jacque had ever seen, and that was only his profile. Wow, I mean wow, is all Jacque could think. Jacque couldn’t even imagine what his entire face must look like. He was tall, probably six foot one or so, his hair was jet black, it was longer on top and she could tell that he had bangs that fell across his face sweeping to the left partially covering that eye. He had broad shoulders and from what she could see of his profile, high cheek bones, a straight nose and full lips. She quickly realized her mouth had dropped open and she was all but drooling over the handsome human being who had emerged from the vehicle. She watched as he and his driver conversed, it all seemed very formal until the driver suddenly hugged the boy with obvious deep affection. He must be more than just his driver Jacque thought.
Suddenly, he turned as if he had heard what she was thinking and looked straight at her window, straight at her. Jacque froze, unable to look away from the mesmerizing blue eyes that held her in place. All her thoughts seemed to fade into the distance and she heard, or thought, she wasn’t quite sure which, the words, “At last, my Jacquelyn.” Jacque shook her head, trying to clear the haze that had filled it. After she came to her senses from the intense stare she recapped in her mind what his face had looked like.
She was right about the cheek bones; nose and lips, what she wasn’t prepared for was that his crystal blue eyes seemed to almost glow in the moon light. The hair that fell across his forehead and over his left eye only added to his mysteriousness. Over all he had a very masculine, very beautiful face. The shirt he was wearing was black and thanks to her handy dandy binoculars she was able to see that it fit closely to his form and showed off a muscular chest and flat stomach. He had a black leather biker jacket on, but past that she couldn’t see because the car was in the way, but she imagined his legs were every bit as nice as the rest of him.
When she looked back at the street the mysterious guy was walking into the Henry’s house. As she saw the door close she heard the voice again say “Soon.”
Jacque sat there for a few minutes more trying to get her brain to work again, everything seemed so hazy. After blinking what felt like a thousand times she pulled herself together, picked up the phone and dialed Jen’s number.
Three rings later Jen answered, “What’s the word?” she asked.
Jacque took a slow breath and said “I think you better come over.”
“I’m there chick, see ya in 5,” Jen responded and then hung up.
Jacque grinned to herself as she thought about how great it was to have a friend like Jen who you could always depend on to be there when you needed her.
Jacque picked up the phone again and called Sally. She answered after one ring. She had obviously been diligently manning the phone, waiting for Jacque to call with details to the latest small town drama. “Jen is on her way over,” Jacque said. “I need you to come too, we need to talk.”
“Okay,” Sally said simply and hung up.
Fifteen minutes later the three friends were gathered on Jacque’s bedroom floor, hot chocolate in hand, because naturally, how can you have a girl powwow without hot chocolate?
“So, fill it and spill it,” Jen said.
“Okay,” Jacque said taking a deep breath, “so I’m sitting in my window seat, shades cracked lights off, binoculars in hand,”
“Binoculars, really, you honestly were using binoculars?” Sally interrupted.
“Well you said you wanted details, so I was getting you details,” Jacque defended.
“Oooh, did you have the “Mission Impossible” sound track playing in the back ground cuz that would have been spy-tastic,” Jen said enthusiastically.
“Actually,” Jacque said distracted, “I was thinking more James Bond-ish, you know with the whole stake out thing,”
“No, huh-uh, that would be more like Dog the Bounty Hunter type stuff. But you couldn’t be Beth ‘cause you’re not stacked enough on top, so you would have to be baby Lisa the daughter….” Jen rattled on.
“You are so, so not comparing me to Dog the Bounty Hunter’s daughter right now and why are we talking about this anyway because it is sooooo NOT the point!” Jacque growled in frustration.
“Spy analogies aside, I was sitting there about an hour when finally a black stretch limo pulls up to the curb in front of the Henry’s house.”
“A limo? What foreign exchange student shows up in a limo?” Jen asked.
“I know right, that’s what I was thinking,” Jacque stated. “I assure you the limo is of no consequence once the person inside stepped out. Ladies, I saw the most gorgeous guy to ever grace my line of site.”
“When you say gorgeous,” Jen started, “are we talking Brad Pitt boyish good looks, or Johnny Depp make ya want to slap somebody?”
“No, we’re talking Brad and Johnny need to bow down and recognize,” Jacque answered.
“Aside from him being dropped off in a limo, and besides the fact that he is a walking Calvin Cline ad, it begins to get strange at this point in our story boys and girls,” Jacque says in a spooky narrative voice.
“Like it wasn’t strange already?” Sally asked.
“Well, okay strang-er. Just as he is about to walk up the path, he suddenly turns and looks straight at me, like he could sense I was watching him! Like, right in my eyes. I literally couldn’t move; it was like I was mesmerized by him or something. Man when did I start using the word “like” so freaking much?” Jacque said in exasperation. “Up until now it was strange, but now we are entering the world of “what the hell.” As he is staring at me I hear a voice in my head and it said “At last, my Jacquelyn,” then as he turned to go in the house and I hear the voice again say, “Soon.”
Jacque stares expectantly at her two best friends waiting for them to tell her she’s finally jumped off the deep end, but they just sit there staring at her. “Well?” Jacque asked. Finally Jen stirs taking a deep breath in, she looks down at her empty hot chocolate mug, “We’re gonna need more hot chocolate.”
“Agreed,” Sally and Jacque say at the same time.
Jen returned with three fresh mugs of hot chocolate and Oreo cookies. Folding herself Indian style on the floor, she cocked her head to the side eyebrows scrunched together, “So let me see if I’m catching what you’re throwing. Hottie exchange student drives up in a limo, steps out, rocks your world, looks into your eyes and speaks to you in your head? Am I getting the gist of it here?”
Jacque nodded her head sheepishly looking at the floor, “I mean, I guess it was his voice in my head. It could be a long lost dead relative who’s been searching for me since they died and happen to find me the moment that hottie looked into my eyes.”
Jen and Sally both gave Jacque the, get a larger spoon if you're going to shovel it in that big, look.
“What?” Jacque asked. “I’m just saying,” she said throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.
Flopping back onto the floor Jacque groaned loudly and covered her eyes with the back of her hand, “Am I going crazy ya’ll?” she asked.
“No sweetie, you been gone a long time now, we just didn’t want you to know that we knew.” Sally teased.
“Seriously, I know it sounds crazy, but I promise you guys I heard a voice, a beautiful, deep, masculine voice, in my head, and it knew my name! That is crazy, jacked up, put-her-in-a straight jacket, totally insane!” Jacque looked at them both with fear in her eyes; she truly did wonder if she had finally cracked.
There was after all, people in her family of questionable sanity, her mother being one of them. Jacque loved her mom and they had a good relationship, but she wasn’t always in touch with reality. Jacque’s father wasn’t in the picture and never had been, he had bailed as soon as he found out her mom was pregnant. Thankfully she had two best friends who kept her feet firmly on the ground, wh
ich is why she was so fervently seeking their thoughts on this matter.
Sally finally spoke up, “I don’t think you are crazy, Jac, really you’re not. There has to be some sort of explanation. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”
“Yea,” Jen added, “its 2 weeks until school starts. From now until then we are on scout detail.” Sally nodded her agreement.
The three were quiet for a few minutes, each pondering ways to run into the new exchange student without seeming too obvious. Jen was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling fan, her eyes following the blades as her mind turned its own circles, “We need to find a way to introduce ourselves to him so that we can each get a good look and see if Sally or I hear a voice in our head.”
“My mom was planning on taking over a good’ole Southern meal for him since he isn’t from here. We could ask if we could go over with her, or would that be too lame?” Jacque asked.
“No, I think that’s perfect,” Jen stated.
Finally, by midnight they had thought up a somewhat weak game plan, the whole of it revolving around going with Jacque’s mom to the Henrys to give their new exchange student some fried chicken, ‘taters, and corn on the cob. Seriously, how lame could you get, Jacque thought as she lay in her bedroom floor. Jen and Sally had quickly fallen asleep on the other side of her room each with their own blanket wrapped around them.
Jacque sat up and looked around her room, and thought, this was a place I feel safe and comfortable. The twin size bed with the new deep green bed spread her mom had bought her for her birthday, the stained-glass lamp with absolutely no theme whatsoever that sat on her small wood desk. She, Sally and Jen had carved various things on its surface. She looked at her dresser mirror which had pictures lining both sides, mostly of Jen, Sally and her in various places and poses; just a few hours ago I was just another 17 year-old getting ready to start my senior year, so normal she thought.
She had three homecoming mums hanging on the wall next to her bed, and on the other side of her bed was the window with a seat where she sat tonight, where her life had changed in a way she wasn’t sure of yet. Jacque lay back down on her back watching her ceiling fan go around in a circle, the motor lulling her to sleep. Her last thought as she drifted off was of a full moon, whatever that meant.
Carnelian
Book One Excerpt
The Chalcedony Chronicles
B. Kristin McMichael
Prologue
In the shadows cast by the torchlight, a young, dark-haired man knelt before an altar. There was already a stone statue sitting behind the lit candles. Methodically, he placed each statue he had found over the past week beside the one already there. He had called upon every god he could remember. His country was at war with the east and with the south. Endless fighting ruled the days and the nights. They were strong, but it wouldn’t be enough. There would be no end. The current king had overthrown the late king, and there was chaos from outside and from within his country. Without an heir, the current king would not last long either. Rulers were changing; beliefs were changing. Yet the change didn’t bring peace. They were still at war. His country was crumbling.
His personal guard stood at the entrance to the cave. They were too far outside of the city to be in a real temple, and this place was the closest he found. Even in the barren desert, the people still worshiped their gods. His best friends knelt beside him, each on a side. The man to his left passed him the stone they had been carrying for the past few weeks. This was their last chance. When they began their march again, it would be to war.
The young man knelt and waited. His life was devoted to his country. He would do anything possible to save the people, his family. The deep red stone amulet in his hands was crusted in blood. He kissed it and continued to pray. He bowed his head in respect to the old gods, the overthrown gods, and the current gods. He was pleading to anyone that could help him. Rubbing his fingers over the smooth stone, he closed his eyes and kept repeating the same line.
“Gods, help us before it’s too late.”
Chapter 1 – Welcome to College
I had the perfect idea of what going off to college would be like. I’d move into the dorms on the first day I could. My family would come along and my mom would cry over the thought of me growing up, especially since I was her only child. They would hang around, not wanting to leave, and finally I’d have to shoo them all out, reassuring them that I’d be okay. That’s how everyone pictures it going. Yet, here I sat, a day late, staring at my new home for the next four years, alone.
My mom and grandfather made the seven-hour trip north with me from Chicago to Minneapolis, but Grandfather got called away on business and my mom had to go with him. He was her ride home after all. Grandfather was in the antique business, and he had a lot of wealthy and powerful clients. I was used to them calling him away at a moment’s notice by now. I drove the last two hours to Lake Superior and Castor, the nice college town that Morton Carole was in. I chose to go to a school far from home, and now I regretted it as I sat outside the campus dorms, pondering my first steps toward being grown up.
Independence. That’s what college was to me. I’ve spent my entire life with my grandfather and mother, and yes, my mother was the hovering type. I never was allowed to go on trips with my friends, or even leave the city without her by my side. She worried every day about my walk to school. She hated cars and was afraid I’d get in an accident. Luckily, grandfather convinced her I would need a car here at college, so I did have wheels now. She never seemed to lack for something to worry about.
Sitting in my used Civic, looking at the massive dorms with people flowing everywhere, independence scared the crap out of me. Right now, the one thing every recent high school graduate wanted was staring me in the face, and I yearned to give it back. I was turning out to be the most timid college freshman in history. Thank you, Mom!
After taking a deep breath, I steadied my nerves and finally turned off my car to go to the registration table sitting outside. I gathered all the courage I found and opened the door. The large square brick building in front of me would be home for the next four years. It was intimidating yet exciting at the same time. College was the pinnacle of growing up, and I couldn’t wait any longer. It was time to start a new chapter in my life.
The registration table was set up with several college students sitting around waiting. The fifteen-foot walk to the table was excruciating. I felt like everyone that passed was staring at me, the scared freshman. In reality, probably no one even glanced my way. The official move-in day was the day before, and I missed the opportunity to be lost in the masses of new students. I was late on purpose. Figuring the crowds would be smaller, I planned to arrive today with my grandfather and mother to help. I tried to concentrate on the table, hoping to see a helpful face, but the girl there just glared at me as I approached. I crossed the parking lot and waited. The beautiful, long-legged brunette who already glared at me, now ignored me and sat talking to the girl next to her. They were obviously friends, as the brunette kept talking and the other girl kept nodding along, never getting a word in edgewise. I stood and waited. I thought the welcome table was to welcome new students, but this girl was anything but welcoming.
“I’m sure by the end of the week he will be coming back to me. He always does. You know he can’t find anyone better than me,” the brunette told her friend.
Poor guy, I wanted to add. I had grown up with girls like the one in front of me. Everything about her was fake, from her eyelashes to her boobs. Private school at St. Maria’s had prepared me for two things at the same time: fake girls and dealing with the people you never really want to be associated with. This girl was exactly that.
I coughed to get their attention. I didn’t need to learn more about the poor guy that the girl had her sights set on. The brunette looked up, surprised that I was there.
“Marcella Navina,” I told the girl, pointing to my name on the list.
“Oh, a new freshman,�
�� the brunette said as she held out her hand to the girl next to her. The second girl was digging through a box looking for the correct key. Finally, she found it and handed it to the brunette. “Welcome to Morton Carole. If you need any help, feel free to ask. We’re all happy to help new freshman.” From the tone in her voice I somehow doubted that. “You are in Murdley, which is on the opposite side of the dorms here.” She said Murdley with disgust, as if she couldn’t imagine who would want to be stuck in the studious dorm. She held out her hand and her minion placed a map in it. “You can either go through the courtyard, through the connecting hallways, or around the outside to get there. Room 215. Good luck, and welcome to college.” A smile was plastered across her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I gave her my best fake smile back as I took her keys and map. I didn’t really need the map. I had already memorized it weeks ago.
Still within hearing distance while walking away, I heard as the brunette added, “I hate freshman. They always think they’re better than the rest of us. Did you see how she talked down to us?” I had no choice but to talk downward because they were seated. She wasn’t the brightest, I guessed.
“I hate fake people,” I added under my breath as I found my way back to my car.
I opened the trunk and looked at my few belongings. I had packed only two suitcases and two boxes. Good thing the dorms came furnished. I stared at my sparse possessions and sighed. The fact that I was on my own for the first time was starting to sink in. I looked over my things, picked the lightest box first, and took a deep breath. Time to walk the gauntlet.
