Airel: The Awakening (Airel Saga Book One)

Chapter I

Boise, Idaho—Present Day

I WOKE WITH A horrid feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it never really occurred to me to ask why. My eyes still closed, I lay there in the non-moment of time between dreaming and waking, feeling the familiar tension. It was familiar because I always felt it. Why, though … why that feeling? It was like I was missing something. What is it?

But then I saw the clock and snapped out of dreamland.

I smacked the alarm button. It had been buzzing for half an hour—half an hour that I could have used, dang it, but sometimes it takes a girl a while to gather her strength. It was time to finally drag my sorry butt out of bed.

I always had trouble waking up for school, because school was the last place I wanted to be. The last place I fit. Since the weather had been playing nice lately in a refreshing little reprise of summer, I dreaded being cooped up in pointless classes all day long. 

My feet hit the carpet, and I sat on the edge of the bed with zombie eyes. I must have slept weird. Or dreamed even weirder. My body was refusing to respond; it was like waking up as a cotton ball in an unopened family-size package of them. My numb limbs wanted nothing to do with this morning business. Come on, Airel, no time to be dragging. If you hurry, you can stop for coffee, I promised myself.

I stood up and looked in the mirror that hung on the wall next to the bathroom door. Its unflinching honesty shouted at me that I was really two people—my idea of who I was contrasted strikingly with reality.

My eyes were puffy and red, and my hair was down around my shoulders in frizzy brown tangles. I dared to look closer. Dark circles anchored dull brown irises. “Ugh.” I rubbed them, trying to wake up. On an impulse I cracked a salesman’s smile at my reflection, watching my face light up with artificial enthusiasm. That made me laugh out loud. I would have looked ridiculous to anyone watching me. I felt ridiculous. “Whatever,” I said to the mirror girl. “I have a great smile. If I have to use it to wake myself up, you can just get over it.” But whoa, my breath sure needed help.

“Airel, are you up?” Mom was chirping up the stairs at me.

“Yeah,” I yelled through the door.

“School is in twenty minutes, honey. You need to eat something today. If you keep skipping breakfast, you’ll ...”

The words trailed off in the same mom-ish rant I heard every day on the importance of breakfast. I grabbed my toothbrush and yelled back, “But I’m not hungry, Mom,” hoping that would end it, knowing it wouldn’t.

After my breath had become nontoxic, I pulled on my favorite pair of jeans, putting them together with a dark-blue shirt that my buddy Kim had picked up the day before at the mall. “If Kim’s not gonna wear it, then I will.” I pulled the tags off, sealing the deal, checking my look in the mirror. I ran a hand through my hair a couple of times, pulled half of it back, and held it in place with a funky clip I’d bought years ago at a small boutique downtown.

I checked the mirror again. “Darn you, zit. Looks like it’s a foundation day.” I brushed it on quickly, figuring I could maybe finish the job with some eyeliner in the parking lot before class. At times like these, I was a little jealous of how easy life could be for guys. All they had to do was throw on whatever clothes were lying around and walk out the door. But girls practically had to create a masterpiece.

Oh, to be a guy. But then I’d have to be a guy.

As I pulled back my curtain and looked through the glass into the front yard, I was glad to see the sun would be making an appearance again. The good weather was holding—for today, anyway.Around here, the weather was about as reliable as the people who reported it. I checked my bag for the requisite books, makeup, and extra clothes—just in case we had a stupid track day in gym. We were forced to run once a week, and all it did was make me sweaty and gross.