Undiscovered

Chapter 1

This story is rated PG-13, it involves the use of mild course language and sexual references.

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Chapter 1

My name is Daniel Highlans and I am undiscovered.

I am also a seventeen year old who's pushing their luck at getting to school on time. Driving with the windows down in my dusty, sky blue '72 Chevy pickup, I could feel my tattery chocolate hair gently tickling my neck and cheeks. The morning sun streamed straight into my blistered hazel eyes and I silently cursed myself for forgetting my sunglasses... again.

I only slowed down slightly upon reaching the school zone, and circled the lot at least twice before for parking a block away. When I was a couple houses up the street I heard first bell sound and shuffled my feet a little faster. I did not want to go to the office again for another late slip. Not that I made it a regular event.

Scuttering around the corner of the home economics building I slammed straight into the chest of Kyle Jacobs. I'm not a wuss or anything, but it kind of hurt. Kyle was built like a tank. Everything about him screamed 'get out of my way' - his height, build, square jaw and crooked nose, which was the result of being tackled one too many times playing footy. His eyes were so piercingly dark that I could barely separate his irises from his pupils, and currently they were drilling holes into my skull.

"Hey Jacobs, sorry 'bout that," Kyle smirked above me. The kid's never exactly pummelled me, just roughed me up a little. But it's still enough though to keep me walking the other way when I see him charging around school. I cringed as Jacobs took one menacing step towards me.

"Kyle," Averley Jones threatened in only a way a girlfriend can do, "stop messing around, we've got to get to class."

Averley often featured as my saviour against her brut of a boyfriend. The things I could tell you about her... not it a stalker way. No, definitely not like that. We grew up together and still live next door to each other, but we're not as close as we used to be. I mean we practically lived together in this huge tree that grew right on the fence line - well sort of. When we both were ten my dad help me assemble our tree house. In fact I did it to cheer Ava up after her grandmother passed. I told her she could decorate it anyway she liked and that after she was done we could move in and forget about everything and everyone. Ava got to decorating it as soon as the last nail hammered in place. In more tones of pink than I approved of I might add. However, the fort hasn't housed Ava in a little over two years now. With that what used to be our place slowly but surely morphed into mine. I did keep all the pink paint though, weathered as it may be.

Unlike the tree house, or my relationship with Ava, she hasn't withered with time. In fact she's still the same as she ever was. Only taller - well just slightly. Her hair is naturally a honey brown, wavy mass. She always straightens it now however, so it hangs perfectly down her back. I prefer it wild and untamed though, it suits everything about her that way. Plus it draws you in to her eyes. Oh, her eyes. They're so deep a brown you can get lost in them for hours, chasing the small flecks of gold that spark in the sun.

I sort of miss being able to stare into them as she strongly held my focus, talking me into yet another activity I would never dream of doing. Just between us, those hypnotic eyes of hers got me into a makeover once. I destroyed all the pictures, much to Ava's dismay.

You know I never understood our falling out. It just happened. Like death. Ava became popular almost overnight. She also became best friends with a bubbly, blonde, Zoey Hart and forgot me instantly. Zoey's not that bad though. Sure she's a classic 'dumb blonde', but she's not catty. In fact I'm glad Ava has her, well sort of. I'd be even happier if it was still Ava and Daniel. Or Danny, as she so lovingly nicknamed me when we were five. She's still the only person who really calls me that, and the only one I let get away with it.

I snapped back to attention when second bell blasted throughout the school. I tore my gaze from the direction Ava had led Kyle just moments ago and headed to class. I didn't even bother being hasty about it. I was already late, might as well make Mr Fitzberg cross at me for a really being late.

Eventually I ambled up the stairs into maths class and took my usual seat.

"Sorry I'm late Mr Fitzberg," I apologised while fishing my pencil case and notebook out of my backpack.

"It's okay for now Daniel, just don't make your tardiness a habit," the teacher nodded and continued to write notes on exponentials. Shocked at my teacher's lack of attention to my late entry I picked up my pen and attempted to understand just how the little e that was repeated across the board was meant to work.

"You greeted Fitzberg before me? Daniel, I'm hurt," my best friend Matt faked pain.

"Of course, you're not the one who hands out detention," I smiled, flipping to a new page in my book.

Matt Sanders filled the gap Ava left when she grew out of our childhood friendship. We're so similar we were practically magnetised together, well sort of. We're both pretty good students, considering I'm always lending him a hand. Except where English is concerned. I mean seriously, who cares about how to write properly anymore? It's all text talk and slang anyway. Neither of us really fit in anywhere until we found each other. And I don't mean that in some sappy love story kind of way. We were always just friends with everyone else, no best buds or anything. But now, with our small group of common friends, we've found our little niche in the ocean that is high school. While out interests do tend to overlap, Matt is a little more athletic than me. Did I say a little? Okay, maybe a bit more than that. Fitting with his slightly sportier side, he is more buff than I am. Not that I'm some stick of bone and skin. He just get a little more use out of his muscles than I do. What tone I do have I get from lugging around huge canvases. I just happen to be an exceptional artist. Yes, I know it sounds conceited, but I am. I love to draw and I'm always doing it. Take right now for instance, what used to be a crisp white page was now filled with angles, curves and smudges - all of which resembled Ava.

I know what you're thinking - that I'm obsessed with her and I can't stop thinking about her. But that's not true. It's hard to stop thinking about the person you've dedicated most of your life to. What with all the games of hide and seek, the late night horror movies and the comfortable, familiar chats can you blame me? I spent practically fifteen years with that girl and she really did leave an impression on me. Hell, I'm half the man I am today because of her. Pair all that with the fact that she left my side for no apparent reason - I've been hooked. Okay, you'll figure it out eventually, so I'll level with you. Towards the end of our friendship I had developed a little crush on the girl next door. I never did anything about it though, I couldn't jeopardise our friendship like that, not unless I knew Ava felt the same. Which, if you're wondering, she never did. The girl was always confiding in me about the boys she liked. It almost killed me too. But I wanted to be there for Averley more than anything. So I was. I was her best friend.

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Well, I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter. Drop me a line and let me know what you think.

❤ GhostGir1