***Warning: this is the original edition of the book and the more recent copy is being updated as you read***
It was a warm and sunny day in Summerview, Ontario as it always was when it wasn't the five treacherous months of winter, where everyone complained about how cold it was and drank too much hot chocolate.
A perfect day for me to do something abnormally stupid. What better place to do it, than in the small confinements of my grade eleven Chemistry class, where my teacher chose to make the poor decision of leaving chemicals in front of me, before turning her back on me and paying attention to some other student, who wasn't their wearing safety goggles.
A little bit of this blue stuff added to a little bit of this red stuff should make purple, I thought, slightly determined to succeed as I poured the vial of the blue chemical into the beaker with the red liquid.
Realization hit me when the concoction that I had created began to bubble.
"Take cover!" I yelled, diving to the ground just as my mixture exploded.
There was a loud bang and my mixture went in every direction, hitting any obstacle in its way, including my teacher.
"Caitlin Saunders, office. Now," my prehistoric teacher snapped, pointing her old, overly wrinkled finger towards the door.
"Again? Ugh, fine," I groaned, leaving the room.
The biology classroom door opened, revealing my best and only friend, Callie Summers.
Callie has been my friend since we were five years old. She had perfect golden locks that was naturally curled in tight ringlets that ended at the bottom over her ribcage. Paired with her wide, Caribbean blue eyes that were always filled with curiosity, she looked like both a model and a five year-old at the same time.
"I heard you blew something up again," she said with an amused look on her face.
"It wasn't my fault this time," I pouted.
"That's what you said the last time. I'm going to guess that you're headed to the office," she laughed.
"Go dissect something, Summers," I said before storming down the hall to the stairwell.
Summerview Secondary School had a total population of 500 students, half of which didn't actually live in Summerview. The two story school had more than enough lockers for each student to have two, though we weren't allowed. The Arts Program was huge here. Almost everyone had some sort of artistic ability. Except for me. Even Callie Summers, the shyest person I know could sing, dance, act and even draw.
My mother had the lead and every musical and my father was able to play the guitar perfectly.
I drew the short end of the straw in my family. I made babies cry and adults cringe if I tried to sing, I broke my ankle during my first dance class, all my drawing looked like abstract road kill and I almost failed grade nine Drama because I couldn't stop laughing. I also broke my first guitar when I was seven and had it in my hands for a total of six minutes and fifteen seconds. All in all, I was never going to get into the Arts Program.
After I gave up on the arts, I tried other things such as French and Technology. As it turns out, I'm the top student in French and I am quiet a computer whiz. My marks were nothing less than a ninety in every subject, with the exception of Chemistry and that was my teacher's fault.
Most of my spare time at school was spent in detention because I had very unfortunate luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Granted, my principal couldn't really give me the benefit of the doubt because I did usually get myself into mischievous situations.
As I approached the principal's office, I debated on whether or not I should come up with another horrible excuse as to why I was in her office for the third time this week. Tuesday was because I dumped a very large bucket of glitter on a bunch of unsuspecting ninth graders and Wednesday was because I told my English teacher she kept pronouncing words wrong. There's only so many times I can hear the mispronounced version of 'false' before I go insane.
Ms.Leonardo sat patiently at her desk, as if she was expecting me so show up sooner or later.
"Well, congratulations, Caitlin, you are officially the student I see the most," she said, gesturing for me to sit down.
I sighed and slumped down onto the chair in front of her.
"Would you care to explain what you did this time?" She asked.
"Well, I was in chemistry and we were mixing chemicals. I thought that putting the blue and the red chemicals together would make a lovely shade of purple, but I guess I was wrong," I said.
"Why does your story not surprise me? I can't exactly punish you for blowing something up in that class, but I am going to have to call your parents and have them come in to talk to me. Go and gather your homework and come back," she said.
I stood up and headed straight for the stairs. There was still ten minutes left in class, so I didn't rush. My locker resided on the second floor, along with all the other grade elevens.
When the final bell rang, several students came pouring out of the Science, English and Math halls. The grade nine and tens moved towards the stairs while the elevens and twelves made their was to where I was.
I was struggling to pull my English textbook out of my locker when everyone in my row decided to arrive. When I finally managed to get it loose, both the book and myself went flying backwards. .
"Come on Saunders, again?" the voice of the football captain, Jason asked, laughing.
"Oh, shut up, Jason. You try being an uncoordinated sixteen year old girl," I grumbled, standing up and brushing myself off.
"You're funny. Nobody in their right mind would want to be in your shoes. Besides, I heard you blew something up in chemistry again," he said.
I glared at Samantha Andrews, the head cheerleader and most popular girl in my school. Unfortunately, she didn't exactly like me.
"Not that it's any of your business,"I huffed.
"Wow, you must be a major disappointment to your parents," he said and everyone who could hear our conversation, laughed.
"Actually, I'm very proud of Caitlin," my dad said, causing to Jason to jump.
"Thank you, Dad," I said.
"You are in so much trouble," he said, giving me a stern look that made me cringe.
"Yes, Sir," I said, bowing my head down in shame.
I knew better than anybody how caring my father could be, but, whenever the school called, he was always in a sour mood. Even though I've never heard him yell, curse, or even get angry, but when he's disappointed, I would rather he yelled or threw bags of potato chips at me.
Callie gave me a reassuring look as I followed my father towards the principal's office.
My mother was waiting patiently for me, still wearing her work clothes. I had her pale blue eyes and slender body, while I inherited my dad's dark hair and tanned skin from my grandmother, who was born in raised in Greece. Despite the fact I should probably look like I grew up in Miami, my thick, black framed glasses, freckles and nerdy appearance told a different story.
"Caitlin," my mother said, giving me a stern look.
"I swear, I didn't mean to blow anything up," I said, holding my hands up in surrender.
"It's okay, just work on your English homework until we're done," she said before she and my father disappeared.
I sat down on one of the chairs in front of the secretary's desk and pulled out a book to read. I was about halfway through the fifth chapter when someone walked in.
For most people, they wouldn't give someone a second thought when they walked in the room. As the mayor's daughter, I was trained to notice people. I've meet every single person in this town, and the boy in front of me was not one of them.
His midnight black hair was was slightly curly, and was in great need of a haircut because his bangs almost reached his eyes. He spoke quietly with the secretary, who handed him a sheet of paper that almost blended in with his incredibly pale skin. He looked somewhere around my age, maybe a year older, but I couldn't tell because his back was to me. He must have sensed that I was staring at him because he turned to face me.
His eyes alone almost stopped my heart. They were so dark that I could've mistaken them for black, if it wasn't for the light reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. His pale skin was practically flawless, with the exception of a small scar above his right eyebrow.
I heard him mutter something incoherent before he left the office. I let out a breath that I didn't realize that I was holding in. I felt slightly angry that he didn't introduce himself to me, but my subconscious told me that I should've said something first.
Unable to focus on my book again, I closed it and carefully placed it into my backpack, before pulling out my mobile phone.
"Caitlin, we're leaving now. We have some dinner party to attend,I have a dress for you in the car. I'll get it for you because we all know that your dad wouldn't allow you to show up in that," my mom said, gesturing to my outfit, which consisted of Jean shorts, a blue t-shirt, a pair of black combat boots and my glasses.
"I don't see anything wrong with it, but I'll change if you want,"I said. In all honesty, I absolutely hated dressing up, but arguing with my mother about it wasn't going to change her mind. I would end up in a dress, regardless of my opinion. I despised dresses because I would never be able to make a quick getaway if I was to need it. When my mother came back from the car, she handed me a dress bag that she probably picked up from home on her way here. Reluctantly, I took the bag out of her hand and headed to the bathroom to change.
I quickly changed into a teal coloured dress and exchanged my trusty boots for the incredibly uncomfortable white flats. I pulled my hair out if its ponytail, allowing my dark wavy hair to cascade down to my waist. Because of many failed attempts to apply make up, that usually resulted in me screaming a colourful amount of curse words and eyeliner in my eyes, I didn't even try to put on make up.
On my way back to my parents, I caught the eye of Jason and a few other boys who were still at the school. I rolled my eyes and rejoined my parents. As we made our way to my dad's SUV, I pulled my phone out andput my headphones in, turning Green Day up as loudly as possible, drowning out my parents conversations about the dinner plans.
The only good thing about me being the mayor's daughters was the amount of free food that we got at the wretched dinner parties and other unholy events. I made a silent prayer that there would be hamburgers and hot dogs.
I pulled out a pastel coloured notebook out of my backpack along with a blue pen.
I was absolutely determined to get to Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario to study literature. I could easily fill up a notebook with a book that I had written. Of course, I never let anyone else see them. They were neatly stacked on the top shelf of my bookshelf, waiting until the day I would be ready to share them with the world.
The night was dark. So much so that I couldn't see my hand, which was right in front of my face. The moon was the only source of light that could be seen anywhere. It was full and bright, casting strange shadows in the corners. I couldn't sleep, all I could do was lay in bed and think about him. The boy with the dark hair and pale skin.
I couldn't quite remember him name, but I remembered his face. His piercing green eyes, partly covered by his hair. I knew he was dangerous, the way he dressed told me. Leather jackets and black jeans. I don't think my parents would ever allow it.
I wrote feverishly, ideas popping into my head easily. Somehow my image of the boy character mixed with the boy from earlier. He skin should have been tan, not pale, but I made no effort to change it.
I wrote in the notebook contently until we arrived at Summerview's small dining hall, which was used for birthdays, parties, and of course, dinner parties.
I knew the building inside and out. It was almost like a second home for me. I knew where the best hiding spots were, and when my parents didn't have their attention focused on me, that's where I would go and hide.
I quietly followed my parents into the two story building, only armed with a pen, notebook and the thoughts that were swirling around in my head, itching to escape and find their way to a sheet of paper.
It took ten, very long minutes before I managed to get away from all the hustle and bustle. I zigzagged my way through the groups of people, ducking out of sight every time my parents looked over their shoulder.
The rafters above my head still had the Christmas lights hanging from them from last year when I helped set them up for the prom. I would've stuck around to look at them, had they been on.
The best hiding spot on the property was the gazebo, where white twinkling lights were always on and were if it rained, you would be safe underneath.
I grabbed an empty chair and dragged it down a small pathway that had been made over the past hundred years.
Once I was seated, with my back facing the community centre, so I could see the forest, I began writing.
"I don't think that you know what you're doing," Jasper laughed a musical laugh.
"I do too. Knitting isn't that hard," I grumbled, struggling to make the next stitch.
"Here,"he said, pulling the knitting out of my hand and easily finished the row.
"Grandma,"I muttered.
I stopped writing after that, becoming very aware that I was no longer alone in the gazebo. The boy from before was standing there, watching me with an amused look on his face.
"What are you writing," he asked curiously.
"Nothing. What are you doing here, this is a private event," I replied.
My cheeks were heating up from embarrassment. The only people who knew that I wrote stories were my parents and Callie. That's it.
"I am sorry for intruding, but I was curious," he said, studying me carefully.
"I'm not going to call security, if you happen to be worried about that.I'm Caitlin," I said.
"Devon,"he said, giving me a small smile.
"Nice to meet you, Devon," I said, extending my hand out.
He hesitated for a brief moment before finally taking my hand. His skin was incredibly cold, like a bucked of ice water had been dumped over it. I shivered slightly and broke my intense staring contest with Devon. His eyes were hypnotic. When he finally let go, I felt weak and like I could fall over at any moment.
"What were you doing out in the office this afternoon?" Devon asked,taking no notice in the fact that I was probably really pale and would pass out at any moment.
"I accidentally blew up something in Chemistry," I said weakly.
"Ah. Now how on earth did you manage to do that?" he asked, crossing his arms, his smile growing.
I felt my knees buckled from underneath me. I would've collapsed on the ground if it wasn't for the fact that Devon caught me.
"Okay,you need to take a seat," he said, walking me back over to my chair.
"Thanks,"I murmured, taking his hand and pressing it against my forehead. The coolness was nice. Relaxing, almost.
"No problem," he said.
"I tried to make purple," I said and he laughed.
"Of course you did," he said, brushing a loose strand of my hair out of my face.
"Caitlin, come on Honey, dinner's ready," my mother called from inside.
"Well,I have to go, I'll see you on Monday," I said, standing up and running off.
I was about halfway to the building when I realized that I had forgotten my notebook. I ran back to the gazebo only to find that my notebook was missing, along with my pen.
Dammit,Devon, I thought with anger.
I stormed back to the Dining Hall, scowling and cursing.
"That's horrible language that you're using," my mother scolded me.
"I'm going to strangle Devon when I see him next," I grumbled, searching for the empty chair next to my father.
I slumped down next to him, resting my head against the table.
"You don't look so well," he said.
"I just need some food," I said.
"Okay,eat as much as you can handle. If you still don't feel any better,we'll go home early," he said and I nodded in response.
Macaroni and other dishes were served in front of us and I scooped up as much food as my plate could handle.
I felt less sick when I began eating, but I still felt weak and tired,but the nausea had disappeared completely. I shovelled mouthfuls of food into my mouth.
"Well,it looks like you're feeling much better," my mom said, smiling softly.
"I am," I said, standing up. I must have stood up too quickly,because the next thing I knew, everything went black.