Tear: A Seaside Novel

Chapter One

It was a normal day in my normal life, and it should have been everything I've come to expect in the sleepy town of Seaside, Oregon.

I'd wake up, brush my teeth, careful to sing Happy Birthday at least three times before I stopped. I was paranoid like that. I often had dreams my teeth would fall out. A friend once told me that meant someone was going to die in your family.

If only.

I know that sounds harsh, but then at least something beside the norm would happen to me. Not that I was insane enough to start wishing for family members to keel over. Maybe it was all this teenage angst. At eighteen, I was just finishing out my senior year of high school.

To say I could not wait to go to college would be the understatement of the century.

I had a calendar with giant red x marks over each day.

Nine months.

That's all I had. And then I was free.

Free of this boring oh so normal place, and free for change to happen. Crap, even getting my hair dyed a different color than the golden blonde it was would be enough change for me.

But my mom hated artificial anything.

What can I say? We live in Oregon. We hug trees and all that.

I spit the last bit of toothpaste into the sink and looked into the mirror.

"Ugh." I cringed at my reflection. Why couldn't my eyes have been anything but brown?

I blamed my parents.

Their boring genes became my boring genes and voila, here I am.

I slipped on a pair of faded skinny jeans, threw on a pair of tennis shoes and a tight- fitting V-neck Henley. It wasn't that cold outside yet but everyone knew that the weather in Seaside could turn from gorgeous to disastrous within minutes.

I walked into the bathroom and pinched my cheeks. My parents wouldn't let me wear makeup.

I know, weird.

Eighteen and I'd never kissed a boy, never worn makeup, and I drove a semi-new pickup to school.

My only saving grace was that I was actually one of the cooler kids at school. I wasn't sure if that was a positive mark in my favor or another way of explaining just how lame Seaside was.

I put on some lip balm and ran downstairs. I needed to stop acting so moody or my mom would think I was on drugs. Usually, I'm a very happy go lucky girl, but last night had been another rough one.

I had that stupid dream again about the boy with blonde hair. A boy I've never seen before in my life. He drove up to the school and proclaimed his love for me.

I was wearing makeup.

A killer dress.

Oh yeah, and he kissed me.

I always dreamed like that. The dream only occurred once a month and it was always different. My psychiatrist mom would say I was projecting, or possibly suffering from some sort of delusion.

Which I probably was.

However, I thought it was just another sign that I needed to lay off the double mochas and late night TV. You can only watch One Tree Hill so many times before you begin to think Chad Michael Murray is actually going to show up at your house one day and proclaim undying love.

I ducked into the kitchen, grabbed my slick rain jacket, put a banana in my backpack, and took a bite out of an apple.

"Mom!"