Be Someone (Pleasant Hill Series #1)

Chapter One

Lyla

25 August

Moving to a town of 1,500 people was the equivalent of moving to a different country. I might as well have been wearing a 'Newbie' sticker on my forehead any where I went. With the town having one stop light, a gas station, and a restaurant, everyone knows everyone. The stares and whispers were constant, even though my stuff had been unpacked for a month.

Knowing it was only going to get worse once I start school on Monday, I dragged my feet getting out of the car. Smiling and meeting people was definitely going to drain my social battery, which is barely still intact. My father and step-mother insisted we go to church this Sunday. So here I am, in my floral sundress and sandals, Bible in hand. I will admit this looks to be one of the prettier churches I've attended. Grand entrance that leads to an even grander white peak. A few families were making their way of all different ages to the doors. The town of Pleasant Hill, Georgia was without a doubt adorable. It looked like your typical white picket fence, family town.

"Pick up the pace, Lyla," my stepmother whispers through her teeth behind me. To the people who said 'wicked step mothers only exist in fairytales', you're wrong. Calling  Lauren wicked is a bit dramatic, but she's definitely not enjoyable to be around. Well at least to me. She sure knows how to put on a face for everyone else. I never understood how people can do that. Unfortunately, I wear all my emotions on my face. It's got me in trouble a time or two. I've learned to not respond to her comments because anything I said would be considered 'back talk'. At least I remembered my Bible today, one less thing for them to gripe at me about. Image was everything to them. Looking like the perfect family for these strangers was more important than anything.

Smiling and saying my 'Good Morning' to the older gentleman holding the door for us, I make my way in to the main hallway where small groups mingle together. My father b-lines for the doors to the right that open to the pews that look towards the giant cross hanging, right above the band that plays. I follow behind my father and Lauren as they make their way down the rows of pews. A couple rows from the front they sit in the center and I take my seat next to Lauren, brushing my dress from under myself to prevent wrinkles. I carefully set my Bible next to me and face forward. I look around, but regret doing that immediately when I catch a couple people staring and whispering.

Taking a deep breath, I face forward again, observing the band playing in front of me. Hoping the music relaxes me a little. I bob my foot to the soft beat playing. My eye catches on the boy to the left playing the piano. I can't make out his face too much from here, his eyes are closed and face is tilted down as he plays. Looking to be around my age, it's surprising how he has the confidence to play in front of so many people. I'd be shaking in my shoes, for sure.

My awkward staring is interrupted by the Pastor greeting everyone, "Everyone please welcome our newest additions to our community, the Coleman's," and then proceeds to point at us.

I think I just died a little inside. I take a quick glance at the boy sitting at the piano and regret it immediately. My face heats up like a tomato, totally expecting he was going to be looking at me but emotionally wasn't ready for it.

Of course, Dad and Lauren were eating up the attention, waving around the room. The Pastor continued on about events going on in the church; then another gentleman took the Pastor's place on stage, instructing us to stand for worship.

My eyes roamed back over to the boy at the piano, who started playing again. It was mesmerizing watching him get lost in the music. I start singing along to the lyrics, recognizing the song from my last church.

My voice catches in my throat, when the boy at the piano takes over singing. I knew angels existed, but his voice was something only the heavens could bless to someone. I couldn't take my eyes away. Even when the song was over and the music died away. It wasn't until he walked back to the pews to sit for the rest of service did I divert my eyes back forward to listen to the Pastor's sermon.

~

Finally getting released from the Pastor after he finished his sermon, I pan around the room to catch a glimpse of the boy again and find him speaking to an older woman. Since he's a little closer I can see him more clearer. He has a brown mop of curls that touch just above his eyebrows and collar, rosy cheeks and a smile that could light up a room.

Shaking my head once, I realize I'm embarrassing myself again with how much I've been staring at this boy I haven't even met. I turn towards the family that's approaching.

"Hi, we just thought we should introduce ourselves. I'm James Mitchell and this is my wife, Jessica, our kids Avery and Dylan," the man speaks shaking my father's hand. I smile towards Avery. She looks to be around my age; their son, Dylan, looks to be a little older, a senior maybe. It would be nice to know at least someone in my class going in to my first day of school tomorrow.

"Greg Coleman, this is Lauren, my wife, and my daughter Lyla. Nice to meet you," introduced my father. The adults continue to talk but I tune them out when Avery gets my attention.

"Hi, what grade are you starting?" She asks, hazel eyes lighting up.

"Sophomore, what about you?" I reply.

"Same. I bet this is all a bit overwhelming." She smiled softly. Avery has a look about that her that shows true compassion. You know how most people, especially girls, have the look on their face that shows their intentions don't match the nice words coming out of their mouth. Most people call it being 'fake'. Lauren is great at it. Avery just isn't one of those girls.

I let out a breath, that feels like I've been holding since I left the house. "That's an understatement. My face hurts from smiling." I bring my hands up to my face and touch my cheeks, rubbing my strained muscles.

"Well, you can relax around me. You'll at least have one friend walking in to school tomorrow," she says giving me a big, gorgeous smile. A smile that I also reciprocate.

Avery was stunning. She doesn't look like either of her parents. Maybe she's adopted? Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell both had straight brown hair, almost black, with cream complexion. While Avery had flawless tawny skin with light brown ringlet curls, her hazel eyes were almost gold. I'm glad she's willing to support me at school tomorrow. Being the new kid isn't ideal.

I turn my head around to see if the boy from the piano was still here. I must've missed him leaving because I don't see him anymore. Maybe he would be at school tomorrow too.