Prologue

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A/N: I challenged myself on my Facebook page to come up with a name for this sequel that didn't suck. Epic fail. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy this :)

Dedicated to vee_ano for being super supportive and hilarious about my attempts to start this XD

Prologue

I never thought I'd ever get to a place in my life where I could be sitting on my porch, looking out at the sea, under a bright hot sun, and feel an intense nostalgia and longing for the rainy, miserable town of London, England.

                And yet here I am.

                I've been back in California for three months and I miss Edwin and Gregory, I miss Annabelle, I miss Kaley, I even miss Maya. I miss that insufferable asshole Tristan Darlington with every fibre of my being.

                That sounds pretty pathetic. But it's really how it feels. I think about him constantly. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, he's on my mind.

                I mean, it might have something to do with how my life here has taken a somewhat downward turn. Before I left everything was great, my friends were great, my family was, you know, my family, and school wasn't so bad either. But since the confusion over my summer occupation and the fact that everyone else ended up in the South of France, I just feel... I don't know, left out. Different. They made fun of me a lot because they thought I spent the whole summer "babysitting", and it wasn't like I could correct them. It wasn't like I could tell them that while they were wasting their time getting drunk and getting laid and (in Timothy's case) getting an STD, I was falling in love and making love and developing superpowers and saving the world.

                The fact that they spent three months in an apartment together while I was across the Channel in a different timezone also seems to have solidified a sort of new bond between everyone that I don't and can't share. I'm missing something.

                So all this might have some influence over the fact that when I'm with them, I often find myself drifting off into a daydream about Tristan.

                We talk almost every day. Email mostly, because he doesn't have a Facebook. Sometimes we Skype, which I love because I love looking at him, but he's not too keen on because he's just not that big on technology in general. I guess when you've had magical powers since birth you don't need to rely on the same things the rest of need to.

                Anyway, like I said, I'm sitting here on my porch under the sun, with the sound of the ocean nearby and little kids screaming as they try to jump over the waves, waiting for my friends to turn up because my parents are out of town and they want to have a party, with my phone in my lap waiting for a reply email from my boyfriend (whose actual existence my friends are unsure of. They make fun of me for that, too).

                Fuck my actual life.

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