Celadon Bay - Book One

Veronica Holt

One thing before we start: Don't ask me how I know her name.

Okay. On with the story.

I met her—correction—I was forced to meet her in early April, right after Easter. I say forced, because I wasn't planning on meeting anyone, really, and this really bad person (who shall remain nameless) with really dark intentions set me up in this really traitorous, horrible, stinky trap. It was vile, cruel, dirty, deceitful, and above all, highly dishonorable. Really.

The facts: I get a text from Martin that April afternoon, which I decide to ignore since I'm in our bedroom, busy doing my English homework, my earphones pressed tight against my ears.

Then, the whole thing escalates. Martin stops texting and starts calling. I'm not picking up no matter what, even if the ringtone stops Queen's "Show must go on" in the best part. The whole thing is highly irritating. Greatly. But thankfully, after five missed calls, Martin finally gives up.

Or, so I think. Because a minute later, the land line in the kitchen starts ringing, finding its way clearly to the desk in our bedroom where I'm trying my best to fulfill my academic duties. It rings once. Twice. And, apparently, in a house I share with six other people, I'm clearly home alone. It's either give up and picking up the phone, or give up on homework. So, I wait until the land line finally stops ringing, pick my own cell phone and dial back.

"Seriously dude, it took you a while." I can hear the frustration in Martin's voice. Obviously, something has happened.

"Sorry, I was in the bathroom," I lie. "What's the problem?"

"A goddamned licensed criminal bastard almost ran me over with his fucking car!" There's the cussing, which is par for the course, but Martin's extremely angry demeanor lets me know he's not making this up. He elaborates, "I think I might have a sprained ankle. Do you think you could come and give me a hand? I'm not far from home."

Without giving anything a second thought, I hang up and am out the door. You might think this was the trap I was referring to before, but no. This thing actually happened, but Martin doesn't fill me in on any details. He has other things in mind, even while he's limping down the street. That much is obvious.

"Dude, are you sure you don't want to call your parents and go get that checked out?" I say.

"I'm gonna be just fine, brother. Don't make me regret calling your pained wuss-ass." But he still limps pathetically, one hand clinging to my shoulder. Not that he notices. He beams up at me. "We have a visitor anyway. Should be arriving any minute now, so we have to hurry," he singsongs.

"So, this means..."

"Exactly. This is it." And then he bursts out laughing.

"Oh, boy." I exhale in one big, defeated sigh. This is it, and for Martin, that term means some careless fairy has become trapped in his demonic web of debauchery and sin. Again. And I'd put money on it that 'Said Girl' will have her heart smashed to pieces sometime before the end of the week.

An important small fact: today is Thursday.

I really wouldn't have a problem with this side of my cousin if the girls didn't fall so freaking hard! If no broken hearts were involved, the whole thing could pass as some sort of crazy game. But man, this charming psycho makes each and every single one of those girls believe she's the one. Soon enough, though, they all discover they're nothing more than just another one, but the 'soon enough' is never really soon enough because the damage is already done. And, by the way, this is the seventh 'this is it' and it's only been barely over a month since school started.