by Eliza Nolan
Phoenix Awakens
By Eliza Nolan
Published by E.N. Publications
Copyright © 2015, 2017 Eliza Nolan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover Design: Yocla Designs
Editing by Kate Foster
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Racing through the forest under the cover of night.
Thick foliage blackens out the moon and stars, leaving me to stumble in near darkness. Heart pounding, I shove my way through the brush and trees.
I run.
I have to get there.
I have to stop them before it's too late.
Chapter One
The bus lurched to a stop in front of West High. My brain wasn't awake yet, but my body knew the drill. I followed the other kids off the bus, zipping up my hoodie to shield my body from the September wind. I should've worn a coat, but that meant admitting summer was over. I wouldn't give up on my favorite season so easily. Sure, I was born and raised in this nearly arctic city, but my olive skin proved this climate was all wrong for me - too far north.
I wrapped my arms around my small frame and scurried up the school steps.
Pushing my way through one of the steel doors, two security guards dressed in full rental-cop regalia greeted me on the other side. West High might be the best public school in Minneapolis, but it wasn't in the best neighborhood. I plunked my bag down on the table for the guards to search and flashed my ID.
One of the guards sifted through my textbooks and pens as well as tampons and other things too private for a stranger's hands. School had only been in session for three weeks, and I was still readjusting to this mandatory invasion of privacy. This morning, however, I was almost too tired to care. After a few sweeps with his hand, he slid it back to me.
Heaving my bag over my shoulder, I moved to head toward class and slammed right into someone.
"Watch it!" a female voice barked.
"Sorry," I mumbled, as I steadied myself and faced them.
Crap. It was Libby Thompson. I shrank back and braced myself for the onslaught of insults.
She glared at me through her cover-model, high-def eye makeup. "Walk much?" She opened her mouth to say more but abruptly clamped her lips shut. Her nose scrunched up in irritation and she stormed off.
Samantha had to be behind me. I'd no idea how she did it, but my best friend always managed to chase Libby off. I spun around.
Okay, so she could be a little intimidating with her spiked blue hair and nose, lip, and eyebrow piercings. Add that to her height - the girls' basketball coach spent freshman year begging her to join the team - I could see how she might instill fear in others.
For me she was a welcome sight.
"Hey, Julia!" she said, pulling me into a bear hug and lifting me way off the ground.
After setting me down she took a step back, eyeing me sideways. "You look like hell. Did you go partying without me last night?" she asked, even though she knew my dad never let me stay out late on a school night.
"No, I had another effed up dream." I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes as we headed down the hall. "They're so exhausting."
I'd been having the same dream for the past few weeks - me racing through woods near a swamp. I had to stop something from happening. I didn't know what, let alone what I could do to stop it, which was fine since the images always faded before I got there. But I always woke up winded, heart pounding, and more exhausted than when I'd gone to bed, like I'd actually been running all night. Sometimes it was hard to believe it was just a dream.
"You should see a shrink. Those dreams are taking over." Her voice danced with sarcasm, yet she avoided looking me in the eye.
I appreciated her concern; I'd been worried, too.
Still, brushing it off as a bad dream was easier than dealing with it, so I forced a laugh and came back with the expected answer. "I know, right?" We stopped in front of the door to my first class.
"Save me a seat at lunch?" she asked.
I snorted. Save her a seat? Last fall our lunch table overflowed with colorful hair and facial piercings. With my long, naturally black hair, dark clothing, and combat boots, I was by far the most normal looking of us. In the spring, our friends started transferring to this alternative school called Como. Just a few at first, but within no time, moving to the new school became the new thing. By the end of the year, Samantha and I were the only ones left. We decided to stick it out because, let's face it, West High would look much better on a college application. We promised each other we would hang on and make it through together.
Last year I needed to save her a seat in the cafeteria, but so far this year, we'd had the whole table to ourselves.
"Of course." I smiled, waving her off as she rushed to make her own class before the bell.
I shuffled up the row of desks to my usual seat, digging in my bag for my calculus homework. I needed to ask Nate what he'd gotten for one of the answers. As if on cue, Nate's signature blond, curly hair popped up in my peripheral vision.
Nate was more acquaintance than friend. We'd known each other since kindergarten, and he was a math geek like me, so we always sat together and compared answers.
Thumbing through the crammed mass of papers in my bag, I almost missed the person sitting in my seat talking to Nate.
"Hey," Nate mumbled in his standard hushed tone.
"Hi," I said, raising my eyebrows and glancing at the new girl.
She was young - maybe a sophomore - with long, brown hair. Her clothes looked all trendy and perfect, as if she'd jumped out of the latest "It" catalogue. If I had to place her, I'd have gone with athlete or on yearbook staff. Though, if she really was a sophomore in calculus, she could also be Queen of the Nerds. One thing was for sure, she wouldn't have hung out with Samantha and me.
But her friendly smile was somehow disarming and when she turned it on me, I actually found myself smiling back.
"Julia." Nate cleared his throat. "This is Clara. She just moved here from South Carolina." He blushed, and the lost puppy-dog look he gave Clara was enough to explain why he'd let her sit in my seat. I bit back a laugh and took a seat on the other side of her.
"Hi, Julia. It's so very nice to meet you." Despite being seated, Clara somehow bounced with pep. However, mid bounce her forehead wrinkled. "Have we met?"
I shook my head. I'd have remembered meeting someone as perky as Clara. "Don't think so."
"Oh." She pursed her lips for a moment, but then her huge smile returned. "What year are you?"
"Senior," I said, my one-word answer a testament to my lack of sleep and the time of day. Also, I sucked at carrying polite conversations with new people, period.
"I'm a junior," she continued. "I guess I'm kind of a nerd for being in calculus and all, but our school in Charleston had a great math program, plus I just like math." She giggled. "But heck, I guess we're all math nerds, because, here we are, right?" Her sentences ran together, and it was
hard to tell if she normally talked that fast or if it was just nerves. Either way, she talked enough to carry the conversation for both of us, and I was happy to let her.
She paused just long enough to take a breath and her eyebrows pinched together. "Have you ever visited Charleston?"
"No," I said as I pulled out my calc book and notes. "I've never been out of the state." Sadly, Dad preferred doing the staycation thing.
"Huh." Clara tilted her head back. "I just don't know where I've seen you before. Maybe my brother'll know. We can ask him when we see him at lunch."
We? I bit my lip and looked up from my notes. When had I agreed to eat lunch with her?
Nate jumped in. "Sure, we can all grab a table together." He turned to me. "Right, Julia?" His eyes pleaded with me to agree.
Maybe Samantha had asked me to save her a seat earlier because she somehow knew I was going to be hit with the social stick that morning. At the rate things were going, our table might actually be full by lunch. Although Samantha was on nodding terms with Nate, I had a feeling she might scare Clara into pissing herself.
Still, I couldn't think of a reason not to sit with them. "Sure."
* * *
I slipped past a group of kids lingering in the doorway and entered the lunchroom. The large hall was already packed with my over-excited classmates running around like it was recess in grade school. I sighed and headed for my usual table so I could save Samantha that seat, but Clara materialized next to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me to a stop.
"Hey, Julia. I'm so glad I found you." She seemed to lean forward on her feet as she eagerly took in the scene. Her eyes wide as her grin, it was like she'd never seen so many people in one place before and she loved it. I quietly laughed.
Yanking me along by my arm, she said, "Let's see if we can find my brother. You've just got to meet him."
My stomach growled. Sitting down to eat sounded like a better idea, but we waded into the thick crowd in search of her brother, anyways. At least it didn't take long for her to spot him. She stood on tiptoes and waved across the room to a guy deep in conversation with Libby Thompson. Groan. Why her?
He had his back to us, and all I could see was a head of sandy brown hair. Whatever he was saying to Libby must've been hilarious; her exaggerated laughter was almost embarrassing.
Clara waved at him again. "I can't seem to get his attention."
There wasn't a soul alive who could get his attention. He was talking to Libby. The girl was captain of the volleyball team, and built like a model. By the way she was leaning in and giggling, she was going in for the kill. There was no helping him.
"I guess we'll have to go get him," she said, and headed over.
"Wait," I called after her. "Don't you see who he's talking to?" Okay, Clara was new, but anyone could tell Libby was the school bitch and should be avoided at all costs.
Clara continued towards them, ignoring my plea. Samantha wasn't at our table yet, so I followed. After all, if Clara's brother had been able to attract Libby, there must be something about him worth meeting.
I studied him more closely as we approached. His dark, long-sleeved shirt couldn't hide the slim, athletic body, or the muscular arms and back underneath.
He looked over one of his broad shoulders and I gasped. My first glimpse of his face showed why Libby was trying so hard to charm him. Clara's brother was so yum. Our eyes met, and that was all it took for me to become lost in his heavy-lidded, crystal-blue eyes.
He turned to Clara and his face brightened. "Hey, Sis." His voice was raspy like a smooth low buzz that set my insides humming.
"Graham, this is, Julia," Clara said.
His lips turned up into a crooked grin, making heat rush to my cheeks. "Julia." He nodded, reaching out to shake my hand and, although it was something Dad would do, I didn't care. His Southern drawl was borderline hypnotic and sucked me in.
As he took my hand, my fingers tingled. Not the stomach dropping, sweaty, tongue-tied sensation you get from being around hot guys. Graham was definitely that hot. But no, this was different - a subtle prickling, like carbonated soda on the tongue. It tickled. We both looked down at our hands, eyes wide. The prickles crept up my arm, giving me goose bumps.
It was as if a current moved through us. My vision blurred and my legs weakened. Passing out became a serious possibility.
Was he doing something?
Then the sensation faded, replaced by a subtle wave of euphoria. Graham's expression relaxed, and I finally remembered to let go.
When he released my hand, I wiggled my fingers, but all traces of the tingling had gone. Whatever just happened must've been a hallucination from my lack of sleep and the crazy dreams. Hands didn't just get all prickly and tingly like that. Just, no.
For a moment, I simply stood unable to move or speak.
"Gawk much, Julia?" Libby burst out laughing.
My mood shifted from serenity to "Die Bitch." A clever person might've whipped around and thrown a snide comment right back at her, but I couldn't. Not only was I lousy at the snippy little insult game people played, but she was right, I was gawking at Graham. And now I was going to die of embarrassment. Lord kill me now.
Clara's smiled threatened to fall as she took in Libby.
Graham pressed his lips together, hiding a smile. "Clara, this is Libby. Julia, I guess y'all know each other already." He winked at me, and my heart fluttered in response. "Let's grab a table. Or is this an open campus? Do we have to stay inside for lunch?"
"It's only open campus for seniors," Libby said. "So we can go out for lunch if we want, but your sister and her little friend will have to stay here." She waved her hand and smiled at me as if she'd just won some great battle.
Before I could object and say I was a senior, Graham sat down at the nearest empty table. "I'm not leaving my baby sister here to fend for herself on her first day."
Clara grabbed the seat next to him and they both looked up at us expectantly.
Across the lunchroom, my usual table was still empty. Samantha hadn't arrived, but she'd text if she couldn't find me, so I pulled up a chair. I could make it through a lunch with Libby if Graham and Clara could.
Libby looked from Graham to her friends only a few tables away. She seemed like she might split in two, because she clearly wanted to sit next to the new hot guy, yet we both knew she would never live it down if she was caught sharing a table with me.
I gave her my best fake smile. "Is something wrong, Libby?"
She returned the fake smile. "No, everything's peachy." She sat down next to Graham, and touched his arm, making a wave of jealousy wash over me. I flicked a breadcrumb off the table. There was no denying the instacrush I had on Graham. Up against Libby, I didn't have a shot in hell, but that didn't stop something inside me from wishing. And it didn't stop a simple glance from him almost melting me to my plastic chair.
Libby tugged his sleeve, pulling him away. "So, anyway, as I was saying, Mom wanted to go to the Caymans, but Daddy and I wanted to go to the Riviera..." She leaned in and lowered her voice making Graham lean in as well, effectively closing me out of the conversation.
Whatever. I rummaged around in my bag for the leftovers I'd hastily snatched from the fridge on my way out the door. I wasn't even sure what I'd grabbed, but Dad's color coding never let me down. Anything in the pink containers was deemed "lunch ready." I popped off the pink top to find pasta salad and proceeded to pick at it. Meanwhile, Clara produced a cloth bag covered in vibrant flowers and stuffed with a bunch of little containers and baggies with sliced carrots, tomatoes, and other ingredients.
Clara leaned in. "So, your friend Nate is sweet. I mean he seems like a nice guy, right?" She produced a bowl and began assembling the ingredients in front of her.
I shrugged. "Yeah, but we aren't that close."
She blushed and grinned. "So you and he aren't...a thing? I mean, because if y'all are, I just…It's cool." Oh my God, she was actually into him.
"No
, we aren't a thing," I said. "Never thought of him that way." I internally shuddered. He may be a nice guy, but he was Nate. The guy was like a brother. A somewhat dorky, little brother.
As if he knew we were talking about him, Nate found us, pulled up a chair, and squeezed in next to me so that our arms and legs touched. I scooted over a bit in order to reclaim some personal space. Just because I was eating lunch with Nate did not mean I wanted to sit in his lap.
Noticing the new arrival, Graham turned. His gaze flitted between Nate and me, which somehow made me want to move even further from Nate. Graham's jaw clenched and he nodded hello to Nate who smiled meekly in return.
Libby glared at Nate as if he was a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe, then flipped her hair and turned back to Graham, continuing her story and ignoring us once more.
I scanned the room for Samantha, hoping she would come rescue us by putting Libby in her place, but she was still AWOL.
Oblivious to Libby's snub, Nate asked Clara, "Are you originally from Charleston?"
"No." Clara waved her hand at him. "We're actually from here. When our mom remarried a while back, we moved down there to live with our dad, to give Mom space, you know? It took some getting used to life in the South, but the people are so incredibly nice there, and it is just beautiful with all the flowers and the greenery. Oh, and they have the most amazing beaches." She folded her hands up as if in prayer, and rested her chin on them, beaming.
"Sounds like it wasn't so bad." Nate opened his crinkled paper lunch bag, pulling out a soggy sandwich and dented apple. "Why'd you leave?"
Graham turned from Libby mid-sentence, his eyes finding Clara's.
The smile remained on Clara's face, but the sparkle in her eyes faded. "Oh, you know." She glanced down at the table. "We just moved up here to live with Mom." The words came out in one flat exhale, and for once Clara's words were followed by silence. I may have just met her, but her reason for leaving Charleston felt too simple, like she was leaving something out.
