Chapter 1
High school was like another world to me. As kids rushed by me with their iPods in their ears or their cell phones in their hands, all I could think about were the differences between this world and the one I’d grown used to. To me, school had been a textbook and an online quiz at the end of the month. This was something else entirely.
My eyes were wide and I couldn’t help but stare as people hustled through the hallways, chatting or yelling and waving across the crowd. Everyone seemed to have their own sense of style and because I’d picked a school that was closer to the inner city, few of the clothing here was designer label. I glanced down at my own boring outfit. I was wearing a pair of dark wash Guess jeans with a plain white t-shirt that wasn’t too loose and wasn’t too tight. My shoulder length dark brown hair was held back in a pony tail and I wasn’t wearing any make up.
My eyes caught on one girl whose make up winged out from her eyes and went all the way to her hair line in an incredible artistic design filled with colours and sparkles. It was amazing and my gaze followed her as she walked by me. At the last second her dark eyes connected with mine and she scowled. “Take a picture, honey.”
I blinked, feeling my cheeks go red and faced forward once more, moving slowly through the crush of students. Finally I made it to the main office. I shut the door firmly behind me, taking a deep breath, feeling relieved at being away from the crowds but energized too. After six weeks of planning and searching, I’d made it. I was now a Student at Trinity High School. A small smile spread across my face at the thought.
“What the hell are you just standing there for?”
I blinked, my eyes connecting with a pair or irate blue ones glaring at me from behind a desk. Hastily I moved forward. “I’m sorry, I’m a new student here. I registered a few weeks ago. My name is─”
“Take a number,” she cut me off, waving to the numbered cards hanging off the wall to my left. “Have a seat over there and wait until you’re called.” I looked to where she was pointing and saw a couple rows of seats with teenagers sitting in them. Each student had a number in their hands.
I raised an eyebrow but took a number and grabbed a seat.
“Hey pretty lady.” I turned to see the guy sitting next to me leaning over the arm of my chair. I moved as far away from him as I could get as his breath washed over me. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure but I think I could smell beer.
“Are you drunk?” I whispered making him break down into peals of laughter.
“Did you hear that Mrs. West? She asked me if I was drunk,” the guy slurred as he faced the secretary who seemed to be filing her nails.
She rolled her eyes. “You are drunk, Ryan.”
He seemed to think this was hilarious because his laughter was twice as loud this time. Eventually he started to calm down and within five minutes he was snoring in the chair beside me. I stared at him in fascination until I heard Mrs. West sigh and call out a number.
The line up went fairly slowly and the bell had already rung before it was my turn. “Name?” the secretary asked, not looking at me as she continued to file her nails. She’d been filing for the last half an hour, did she even have any nails left?
“Rosemary Adams.” She rifled through the papers strewn across her desk before picking one out.
“Here you go,” she said handing it to me.
I read the page, half turning away before stopping. “Um, this is Josh Avery’s schedule.”
She snatched it out of my hands quickly before handing me another one. This one had my name on it and I said a polite thank you before leaving the room.
I followed the signs through the now deserted hallways as I made my way to my first class. I double checked the numbers before twisting the knob and walking in.
My heart stopped when I realized that I was in a music room. I froze as the eyes of about twelve people looked over at me.
“I’m supposed to be in shop class,” I muttered, trying to slow my fast beating heart as I looked around, seeing music stands and folding chairs. In the corner of my eye I could see a piano but I couldn’t look at it directly. I had only just gotten my cast off and I hadn’t touched a key in a month and a half.
A blond guy with long, shaggy hair stood up. He was a couple inches taller than me, putting him at about six feet and he was built like a line backer. His shoulders were incredibly wide and his entire body was bursting with muscles. “You’re in the right place,” he said grinning and holding out a hand. “I’m Justin Troy and that guy,” he jerked his thumb over to a man slumbering in a chair, “is Mr. Orton, the shop teacher.”
I frowned, looking around the room quickly again. I shook my head, confused. “This is a m-music room.” My voice stumbled a bit, catching on the word music.
He nodded, still grinning down at me, his light blue eyes dancing with laughter. “It sure is.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me to a chair closer to the other students. Every single one of them was male and most of them were sleeping. One guy had an electric guitar in his hands and his head was bent down so he could hear the quiet chords he was strumming. From this angle, all I could see were his strong, capable hands quickly moving over the strings and his thick, dark brown hair falling forward to block the rest of his face from my view.
“I bet you’re wondering why shop class is in a music room,” Justin said drawing my attention away from the guitar player. I nodded. “You see, the real shop class burnt down a couple months ago and the school doesn’t have enough money to fix it so we’ve been holed up in here ever since.”
“Burnt down?” I muttered.
“A freak accident involving a blow torch and a box of fireworks.” He shrugged, grinning.
“That sounds awful,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Everyone was clearly all torn up over the “accident” that had claimed the life of their shop class. “So now you guys just come here and laze around until second period?” He nodded, still grinning. I sighed, looking down at my schedule and wondering which class I should take instead. “I guess I could take German first period,” I muttered and blinked when my schedule was yanked out of my hands.
Justin looked it over quickly before giving a loud snort and crumpling it up, throwing it in a perfect arc into a nearby trash can.
“Hey! I had to wait in line for that.” I started to stand but he gripped my wrist and pulled me back down.
“Don’t worry about your schedule, honey, I’ll show you around.” He winked at me and I heard a light snort from the guitar guy.
“Ew. No,” I said, yanking on my wrist until he let go.
He burst into laughter, the deep sound originating in his large chest and shooting out of his mouth like cannon fire. “Did you hear that, Mac?” His blond head turned to face the guy still playing with his guitar. “She said ‘ew’.” He laughed even harder and I discretely put a hand up to my ear to block out the loud noise.
I stood up quickly, darting away from him and moving to the garbage can. I bent over and thankfully, it had been recently emptied because there were only a few other sheets of paper in there.
Had anyone ever heard of recycling?
“I think you should stay in this class, Rosemary Adams,” Justin said.
“How did you know my name?”
“I read it on your timetable. I can read you know.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I mumbled making him burst out into laughter again. I looked around at the sleeping guys and wondered how they managed to tune out the noise.
“I like you, Rosemary,” he said when he’d stopped laughing. “You can call me Troy. All my friends call me Troy.”
“Okay,” I murmured.
“This guy is MacKenzie Parker,” he gestured to the guy on the guitar who still hadn’t lifted his head, “but everyone calls him Mac.”
“Sure. Listen, I’m just going to go to the office to see if I can get my schedule changed.”
Troy looked at me like I was crazy as I started to gather my things. “I don’t think you’re getting the point. Everyone gets an A just for attending this class. You don’t have to do anything. This class is the best kept secret at Trinity High.”
I shook my head and was about to reply when the classroom door burst open. “Mac!” a tall, lanky kid with dark brown hair came skidding to a stop directly in front of Mac. The kid had moved so fast that he’d been a blur until he’d stopped moving and I had to blink a couple times before my brain could compute what had just happened. “Bad news, Mac, Drake can’t play on Saturday.”
I could see Mac’s body straighten but his face was blocked by the newcomer. “What?” The voice was deep and for some reason, I felt a shiver run up and down my spine at the sound of it. I put my bag back down and edged a little closer to the duo.
I vaguely heard Troy mumble, “Why does he always have this effect on women?” but I ignored him.
“He got grounded and his dad said that if he left the house, he’d take away his cell phone and you know how Drake is with his phone. The thing is permanently attached to his hand. He thinks he can’t survive without it so he told me he’s going to have to back out.”
Mac groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I’m going to kill him,” he grumbled.
“We just have to find another guitarist,” the kid said.
Mac shook his head and now I could see their profiles. Mac’s face was still in his hands but I could tell that the newcomer had a strong jaw line and sharp cheekbones. He was pretty skinny but he looked to be about 15. I could tell he would fill out and be a lady killer in no time.
“We can’t find another guitarist, Dan. No one else knows our music.” Mac sighed and raised his head. My breath caught momentarily as I got a look at his face. He was incredibly handsome. He had the same strong jaw and angular cheekbones as the other kid making me think that they were related but Mac was the more filled out version. His shoulders were broad and when he put the guitar aside and stood up, he was very tall, well over six feet. His arms were corded with muscle and through his tight black t-shirt, I could see the faint outline of a six pack. The guy was built.
They were both silent before they turned simultaneously to look at me.
That’s when my heart stopped for a very different reason. My gaze moved between two sets of beautiful indigo eyes. Eyes that I had seen once before and never again. No one had eyes that colour besides that kid who I’d caught spray painting a wall when I was nine years old.
“What the hell are you staring at?” Mac asked, his voice filled with disdain as his gaze landed on me.
I couldn’t breathe and as my gaze slid over to the younger one, Dan, I realized that he was having the same problem.
“You,” he whispered but his voice carried to my ears, sending shock waves through my body. He remembered me.
Suddenly everything came rushing back from that horrible night at the police station and I had to get out of there. I left my bag and twirled quickly, knocking over a music stand in my haste but I didn’t stop. I burst into the hallway, gasping for breath, trying to blink away the image of Ben and Sarah in the police station eight years ago.
The bell rang and kids piled out of their classrooms making it harder for me to escape but I pushed forward, determined.
Suddenly, someone was gripping my arm and I was abruptly facing the opposite direction. A pair of arms wound around my shoulders and held me tightly. My face was smashing into a guy’s shoulder and when he whispered, “I’m sorry,” in my ear, I knew who it was.