Heavy (Heavy Hearts Book 1)

by Sarah Jane Duncan

  HEAVY

  Heavy Hearts book 1

  Sarah Jane Duncan

  Copyright © 2020 Sarah Jane Duncan

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-0-9945177-1-5

  ISBN: 978-0-9945177-0-8

  This is an original publication of Sarah Jane Duncan.

  For Shane, Renaye, Jordan, and Trista

  who breathe life into my world!

  And for my friends and family who have supported me, and my book baby.

  A NOTE TO READERS

  This book is formatted in Australian English.

  What does that mean you may ask?

  Downunder, we like to do things a little differently.

  Sometimes we throw in an extra letter or replace a letter in our words.

  If you do happen to stumble upon a spelling error or a typo,

  please contact the author directly through the

  website below so corrections can be made.

  sarahjaneduncan.com

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There are some very special people in my life who have put up with my head stuck in my laptop while I worked on creating Lexi’s story. Without their patience and support, I would never have finished my book baby.

  To my husband, my rock. The man who sits alone some nights just so I can get my writing done. The man who feeds the family when I’m heads down bum up in my writing. The man who works tirelessly to build his business to support our beautiful family. The man who stole my heart when I was just fifteen years old and has filled it with love and happiness and the most amazing memories. The man who gave me the most precious gift of all, my three children.

  Shane, I love you endlessly! Thank you for all you give me.

  To my three children, my world. You are each so different in some ways and so similar in others. You each support me in your own way and you will never truly understand how much it means to me for the time you give. It could be as simple as asking me a question about my story, or offering advice on the cover, or helping me with teenage slang. Anytime you give me the slightest bit of interest I feel like I am winning in life, because you are my life.

  Renaye, Jordan and Trista, I would walk through fire for you, take a bullet for you, or give you my heart just so you could live a long happy life. Thank you for being you. You all make me so proud!

  There are a few other people that I would like to thank.

  Lynda Mayze. Yes you are getting a mention girl!! Why? Because you have always made me feel like I could do this, that I could write. Your encouragement is honestly one of the reasons I took the leap to do more with my writing. I will never forget that. You are a truly special friend that I will forever hold close to my heart. Thank you.

  Crystal Santoro, I found you in the writing group that you created on Facebook. You became my mentor and a great support always answering my questions and offering advice. You helped me with editing and to better understand the process. Your support has been invaluable. Thank you.

  My Beta Readers are AMAZING! I asked you to be brutal. I asked you to be honest. I asked you to give me feedback. You each delivered above and beyond. When you read the published version, you will find somethings that weren’t there before, some things changed, somethings given more detail. I am so happy with the final version of Heavy, and it’s because of each of you.

  Lisa Booth, Katie Lee, Belinda Carrodus, and Melissa Forester, thank you so much.

  Lastly, to my extended family and my beautiful friends. Each time you asked questions about my book, each time you showed an interest, each time you got excited for me, helped to push me forward and finish.

  I love you all!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Smashing glass echoes through the silence, forcing me to sharpen my attention. It's a hard task given the fuzzy feeling in my head and the way my eyes struggle to focus. I blink fiercely, trying to clear my vision, my eyes locking onto the blurry shape of a hand pulling back through the now shattered window. As the scene before me comes into clearer view, the moonlight filtering from above allows me to see tiny droplets of blood splattered across the pale skin of a dainty hand.

  Ouch, that has to hurt.

  Normally the sight of blood turns my tummy, especially when it's not mine. Right now, though, I find the way that the crimson beads over the ivory skin quite fascinating. I watch, transfixed as the molten juice starts to ooze and trickle over my hand and down my wrist.

  Wait…

  My hand? My Wrist? What?

  "You’re such a badass!” A deep voice interrupts me, “A sexy badass!”

  Forgetting about my hand, I drop it lazily to my side and turn to whoever dared to interrupt me while I examine the nectar seeping from my body. There’s a boy here. Why is he here, and where did he come from? He’s laughing at something he said as he walks away from me, and the view of his broad shoulders gives me no clue as to who he is. I should probably ask him, but the fuzziness in my head is making me too tired, and I just can’t be bothered talking.

  Through the haze clouding my eyes, I watch as the boy climbs through the smashed window into the building, being careful to avoid the jagged shards of glass protruding from the frame. He disappears into the darkened room, which kind of resembles a classroom. It’s hard to tell from outside in the shade of night and my lacking ability to see straight. The room doesn’t look as vibrant and as full of life as a classroom normally would, especially with the artworks lining the walls that are now devoid of colour. In this light, everything appears to be grayscale.

  I shuffle my feet on the concrete path just outside the building and curiously watch the boy through the shattered windows as he lifts his leg and kicks a few chairs out of his way. Walking up to the wall of art, he laughs and rips piece by piece down, tearing some in the process as they float down to the floor. I frown. This isn’t funny. I know I should tell him to stop, but I don’t have the energy to speak.

  Once he finishes destroying the artwork, he turns and stalks towards the chairs he kicked out of his path. I still can’t see his face from where I stand outside, and I squint, hoping it will help. I can’t tell if the reason why I’m unable to see him is because the night shadows his features from me, or if my head is really just that fucked up. I can, however, make out his form, which is now lifting a chair over his head. What the hell is he doing now? I get an answer to my silent question when he hurls the chair towards the bank of windows next to where I’m standing.

  Time slows to sloth speed. The moment the chair leaves the boy's grip, and sails across the room seems to take forever. The intense shattering of glass fills the silent night again as the chair explodes through the glass, coming to a crashing thud as it lands outside on the concrete path below.

  The boy jumps and fist-pumps the air, calling out a loud “whoop.” He then turns his sights on me, his face shadowed in darkness except for the white of his teeth spreading into a smile.

  “Your turn, Lexi,” he encourages.

  How does he know my name? Do I know him? His voice isn’t familiar to me; surely, I would remember his voice if I knew him. Come to think of it, why am I even here?

  I should care about these things, I know, but I don’t. My body feels heavy and numb, and if a bed were close by, I’m pretty sure I could fall asleep before my head even hit the pillow. Even as I think
this, my mind flutters to what the boy did, and oddly enough, the thought of it makes my heart race a little. Throwing the chair through the window did kind of look like fun. If there’s one thing I like, it’s fun.

  The chair that was hurled through the window only moments before catches my eye, and I find myself approaching it. It’s laying on its side on the path surrounded by shards of glass. Reaching down, I clasp the cold metal legs and lift the chair above my head. Turning towards the windows that still remain intact, I toss the chair with a grunt, keeping my eyes on it as it sails through the window, before tumbling to the floor inside the classroom. The sound of the shattering glass sends a spike of adrenaline rushing through my veins while the boy repeats his jumping and fist-pumping as he leaps out through the window.

  “Damn, girl, that was sick!” The boy appears in front of me, and the moonlight touches the side of his face, giving me a better glimpse of dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. He has a faint smattering of freckles across his nose that make him look more boyish than manly. Who is this boy? I tilt my head to study his familiar face, but I keep coming up blank. My brain flutters with the knowledge, but it’s not playing fair and won’t divulge the secret.

  “Who are you?” My voice rasps, feeling dry and unused.

  Confusion flits across the boy’s face briefly. Then, he laughs hysterically. “Oh man, Lex, you’re baked as fuck!” His grin is wide and pleased as he places his hands on my shoulders, turning me into the moonlight to examine my eyes.

  I shrug him off, not wanting him to touch me. I’m not sure why I don’t want him to touch me. He seems to know who I am, and he’s decent looking enough, but for some reason, I can’t stand the thought of his hands on me.

  A loud gurgle rumbles in the silence between us, and then the boy laughs, throwing his head back.

  “Damn girl, was that your tummy? You hungry?”

  I shrug, “Yeah, I could eat.”

  “Me too. Let’s crash the canteen before security turns up.” The boy nudges my shoulder, and we quickly lose interest in the classroom we just demolished.

  A canteen with food sounds like the best idea, so I nod and follow the boy as he leads the way. As I stagger slowly behind, I gaze lazily up at the stars, trying to tune out his annoying yapping. After stumbling a few times, I reluctantly draw my eyes away from the twinkling sky and look around at my surroundings. The Australian flag floating in the breeze looks familiar, much like the one we have at school. Come to think of it, this place really does look like a school. I’m sure I would be able to confirm that if my fuzzy vision weren’t making it so hard to see clearly.

  If this is a school, then why am I here at night? And why am I with this weirdo who’s incessant yapping is irritating the crap out of me? He won’t shut up. I don’t know what he’s saying, and while I want to tell him to stop, I can’t find it in me to bother. My eyes are too tired, and my tummy won’t stop growling at me. Am I getting hangry? The stupid thought makes me giggle as we come to a stop in front of two glass doors with the word ‘Canteen’ displayed overhead. Oh good, food.

  “Shit, the glass looks thicker than the classroom windows. I’ll break my hand if I try to smash it.” The boy, who I shall name Weirdo, has a point, although his head looks thick enough to do the job. I giggle again, and he grins at me like he’s the one who just thought that hilarious thought, even though he has no idea what’s going on inside my head.

  “I love this version of you, Lexi. Who would have known such a bad girl was inside this gorgeous prim and proper body?” He chuckles, giving me a smirk, which I think is meant to come across as sexy, but it looks the opposite and just makes me laugh again.

  Deciding that food is more important than talking to this weird guy, I look around the dark yard to find something to help us break through the doors. Keeping in line with the theme of the night, I spot a chair under the covered eating area and walk lazily over to collect it. Lifting it seems like too much effort, so I drag it. The normally irritating sound of metal on concrete doesn’t bother me in the slightest as I drag it across the yard. As I approach Weirdo, I witness idiocy at its finest when he tries to take matters into his own hands by repeatedly ramming the glass doors with a flimsy tree branch. Backing up, he charges towards the doors with a grunt and nearly face plants the concrete ground when the branch snaps.

  The laugh rips from my mouth before I have time to stop it. His reddened face turns to me in fury, which only makes me laugh harder. Dusting himself off, he starts towards me, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I get the impression he thinks he’s going to intimidate me. Huh! Not likely.

  I repeat my earlier actions and lift the chair above my head. Weirdo, using his brain for once, freezes in place, his heated face turning worried. Ignoring him, I lunge with force, letting the chair fly from my grip. Weirdo’s eyes widen right before he drops to the ground to duck out of the way as the chair sails mere inches from his head. The knowing sound of smashing glass greets us again, and I grin. Even though I don’t seem to feel much at the moment, I feel my grin. That was legit good!

  “Fuck, Lexi!” Weirdo hisses as he rises and turns to me. At first, I think he’s going to act angry and intimidating again, but he surprises me and laughs, “Seriously, can I kiss you?”

  I look at him, now advancing on me with a determined look in his eyes. I don’t answer, and before I can react, his hands delve into my hair, tugging my head close as his lips close over mine.

  I kiss him back... I think. It’s hard to tell because I feel nothing. My face is numb, and my mind is fuzzy. I don’t typically let random boys kiss me, but then again, I don’t typically break into schools and throw chairs through windows either. I’m not sure why I’m doing any of this. I can’t remember how I got here; my memory is nothing but a haze of fog.

  “You’re a great kisser.” Weirdo draws away, his eyes flicking back down to my lips as he licks his own. I think about his words and realise I must have been kissing him back. It seems strange that I didn’t feel it.

  I shrug, not caring if I’m a good kisser or not, and step around him to climb through the broken glass doors of the school canteen. My food of choice is chocolate cake and juice boxes. He chooses potato chips and a can of cola. We don’t speak now that food is in our hands and filling our mouths. I follow the boy out of the canteen, my belly already rejoicing, and we make our way towards the back of the school, where the shadows are at their darkest.

  CHAPTER TWO

  My mouth feels like a desert, dry to the bone and gritty. Groaning, I try to force my heavy eyes open, knowing too well that I’m going to regret it. Still, I try. Cracking one eye open, the blinding light of day shoots pain into my head, causing me to slam my eye shut again. Shit, this is going to be a killer hangover.

  I inhale a few deep breaths willing the pain to ease, and when it does, I try again, this time prying both eyes open. The brightness sends more stabbing pain into my skull, but I force myself to keep my eyes open this time. Blinking slowly, my vision begins to clear, and with it, more sharp pain pulses behind my eyes in the form of a throbbing headache. Today is going to suck big time!

  I shrink back a little, noticing a sleeping face partially covered in white blonde hair in front of me. It only takes me a moment to recognise this sleeping beauty, and I grin. My best friend Abbey is snoring quietly next to me. She doesn’t believe she’s a snorer. I should get my phone out and record her, and I would if I didn’t know that payback is a bitch. Abbey would make it her mission to return the favour, which will only lead to me embarrassing myself. I take in her unconscious face looking a little flushed but peaceful, and the trail of drool spilling from her pink lips. If I film this, she will kill me. It’s hard to find self-control in this moment, but Abbey is saved by the pounding in my head. Getting evidence of her sleeping habits will have to wait for another day.

  Glancing around, I notice that we aren’t in Abbey’s bed. Like me, she has a double bed, which gives us more personal space when we
have sleepovers. This bed, however, is nowhere near big enough to be a double. As close as our friendship is, sleeping practically on top of each other isn’t something we tend to do.

  Needing more space, I try to roll over and nearly fall out of the narrow bed we are occupying. The jarring movement causes a jackhammer to go off in my head, so I suck in slow, deep breaths to try and get the pain under control. When I’m sure my head won’t splinter open, I shuffle my body over to take in my surroundings.

  We are on the bottom of a single bunk, and I can hear faint snoring coming from above. Slowly pushing myself up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed but stop quickly when I nearly land my feet on two sleeping bodies on the floor below. Jesus, how many people are crammed into this tiny bedroom?

  Maddie and Kyle are a tangled mess of arms and legs below me on the floor and are barely covered with a fleece blanket. I’m thankful they have clothes on since they typically spend most of their time trying to rip them off each other while playing tonsil hockey.

  A glance around the room tells me that we are in a child’s bedroom. Going by the light blue tone of the walls and the bookshelf lined with Star Wars Lego, I assume this room belongs to a boy.

  Confused, I run my hands over my hair, trying to will my brain to remember how I got here. My mind is foggy. Things seem familiar, yet I can’t remember how. This room has to be in Tasha’s house since that’s where the party was last night, but why can’t I remember any of it? I don’t feel hungover enough to have been that drunk, so what is going on with my head?