Walking in the Shadows - SAMPLE

Chapter One

I hadn't always been like this; a shadow person always on the edge of my lies. It was a matter of circumstance more than anything—a circumstance that I avoided telling him. When I walked into the classroom I avoided his eyes and shuffled to take a seat as far away from his livid glare as possible.

"Good morning, class; my name is Mr. Knightley," he greeted.

I already knew who he was. He made me happy and undeniably flighty, so flighty that I had congratulated him on his acceptance of his dream job at the local high school. It was the high school that I was enrolled in as a student. Now sitting in his class. I looked up into the eyes of the man with whom I was utterly in love and beseeched him to understand. His aquamarine eyes were dark with condemnation and fury, yet his voice gave away none of those emotions as he continued. "Let's start by going around the room and introducing ourselves. Say your name and one thing about yourself that is of interest, as well as your favorite book," he instructed. He swallowed and looked away from me. Now he nodded at the girl in the front row.

She smiled sugar sweet, and I swore I tasted bile in my throat as she giggled, "Why don't you begin Mr. Knightley?"

"Well, you know my name. I just recently graduated UMass Amherst and here I am teaching for my first year at Amherst high school," he answered, and I could hear the anger in his voice. Despite the fact that I was looking at my notebook I knew he was looking directly at me. "My favorite novel is The Thirty Nine Steps by John Buchanan."

Almost every girl said their favorite book was some novel from The Crimson Reign saga; a craze I thought would never end. I would not be one of them, for I had never picked up one of those books and now never could—another matter of circumstance. The girl in front of me turned with a snarky smile on her face. "Your turn newbie."

I looked up at him; his eyes were distant because he already knew all my answers. I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it. I felt paralyzed, and I felt I looked like a complete idiot to the class. I didn't care what they thought of me, but what he thought meant the world, and I had no idea what he was thinking.

"My name is Vera. I fear there is nothing of interest about me," I replied, and I saw a faint smile on his lips. I could tell he was remembering when I had said that to him and I continued, "Emma by Jane Austen is my favorite novel."

The smile quickly faded and his acidic eyes met mine again. I looked away in agony—an agony I had not felt since the day my parents had been murdered.