Forgotten (The Charade trilogy)

Chapter 1

Forgotten

"How is school so far? Are you getting good sleep? How do you like your roommate?" My mom asked over the phone. Her apprehension for me is sweet, and she's so proud of me, but I know she's upset with me for leaving Michigan so soon after coming home from Alaska, where I've lived my whole life.

I do feel bad, but my education is beyond important to me and she knows it.

I smiled, "Everything is fine, I love college!" I replied

"Now, no partying young lady."

We both shared a warm laugh.

I missed her.

"Tell dad and Carter that I love them both." Sadness swept over me and sent a tear rolling down my cheek. I hate crying because once I start I can't stop. And neither can my mom.

She broke down crying and her words turned out to be just constant mumbles, one mumble after another.

I sat and listened to my mom ramble on about how much she loved me and how bad she wanted me to come home. Then I realized that I needed to get to class.

"Mom-. . ." I finally interrupted, "I really have to go. I love you." And that was the last I talked to her for months.

My computer sat on my kitchen counter, my coffee mug sitting next to it. I grabbed both and rushed out of the door, forgetting to grab a coat.

"Relax Skylar." I whispered to myself.

My door swung back open again and I grabbed my coat and a winter hat.

I took a seat in a room filled with at least fifty young adults. All here for the same reason as me.

In my head I knew that I had to talk to new people sooner or later, but today, I was hoping no one was going to sit with me.

Not long after the class started, a young blonde haired boy walked in.

His head held high and his shoulders so broad. I didn't have a clue who he was but I could predict that he was very intelligent, just by the way he walked.

The chair next to me moved and I jumped, realizing that the blonde haired boy was sitting next to me.

My heart rate picked up and my cheeks turned red.

Do I talk to him?

I've never learned how to talk to boys my age. Growing up, I only talked to Harry, and I also thought that Harry was my brother, therefore I knew that I didn't have a choice on whether I wanted to talk to him or not. I just did.

My back stiffened and I tried to nonchalantly look at him from out of the corner of my eye.

My eyes snapped back towards the front of the classroom when I saw his head turn in my direction.

"Are you okay?" The boy chuckled.

His laugh was adorable. A tiny smile danced on my lips.

Who was this kind boy?

I stuttered upon my words, "I-I'm okay." An awkward laugh fell from my mouth.

I don't want him to think I feel uncomfortable because I don't feel that way. I just don't know what to say.

He smiled, and so did I.

"I'm Skylar." Something told me I should introduce myself. It'd be rude if I didn't.

He grabbed a pencil out from behind his ear and smiled again, "I'm Niall. Niall Horan."