-BEACON HILLS. What was thought to be a normal town hidden in California was anything but if you stayed long enough to break past the facade of its small-town charm.
Because if you look past its many lacrosse state championships, unexplained murders...
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—AUGUST IN CALIFORNIA WAS MORE fall than summer.
In some states, the grip of summer was still holding on with heat flashes and temperatures in the 90s, but southern Cal dropped its friendly weather quickly for the cool breeze coming off the Pacific that turned the leaves the color of apples and swept in the next few months of jackets and layers.
I would never complain; the last half of the year was the best in my opinion, and I'd take shivering over heat stroke any day.
Still, I crossed my arms and bunched my shoulders to deflect the chilly breeze as it drifted swiftly across the front of Beacon Hills High School, following me as I trudged towards the brick staircase entrance.
The new season brought an element to the atmosphere that I couldn't describe, but flooded me with serotonin nonetheless. It was impossible to be sad on a good weather day like this.
Even if it was the first day of school.
Junior year, also known as the worst of all four. Man was I excited to see if I would become an academic weapon or an academic victim.
"Gracie!" A voice said, and I turned around to see the bright smile of Isaac Lahey bounding up to me. Despite being younger, he towered over me by almost a foot.
He was like a golden retriever that happened to be really tall. Unfortunately, that also meant his head got lost in the clouds sometimes.
He wasn't the most popular in school, and I never really understood why. Sure, he was quiet, but once you got to know him he had endless energy and was one of the most loyal people you'd ever meet.
"Lahey!" I smiled back, bumping into his side in greeting.
His dark brown curls were ruffled by the autumn breeze, but he was sporting the same exuberant smile as ever.
"I'm mad at you," he said, his tone implying the exact opposite.
"Oh really?" I mused, casting my eyes around the crowd that had gathered around the entrance as we meandered into the hallways.
"Yeah." He huffed. "Because you gaslit me into thinking I could take three APs this year and now I'm seriously regretting that."
I'd met Isaac when we were both sophomores. It'd been really late one night, and I'd always seen him around school, so I recognized him when I was leaving from volleyball practice. He was having a panic attack right outside on the curb, and there was no one there to help him.
I'd sat next to him and talked to him until he calmed down. He'd explained to me he'd hurt his leg and couldn't walk home, and his dad got super angry when he was late. I'd offered to take him home.
The next morning, when he'd limped out of his house, I was waiting for him. And I'd been taking him to school ever since—or, until he turned 16 and got a car over the summer.
