Annalise Starke had known her mother was going to die eventually; she just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
At fifteen she had moved with her mother back to her home country of Australia with half a heart (metaphorically, of course) and her mo...
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"Focus, Jacks!"
Vintage floral wallpaper melted from my mind, fading at the sound of Breck's shouts.
I looked up in time to see him toss a partially deflated football right at my head. I stumbled backward, dipping low enough to intercept its path, and caught it deftly in my left hand.
"Damn!" I reached up with my free one to wipe the droplets of sweat from my forehead. "That was a dirty pass, Starke!" I called back.
The weather here had always been strange to me. Just last month we had that winter storm that left us iced in for five days, and now—barely into spring—I was dripping like I'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.
Get your head in the game, I shook my head frantically. I needed open air on my neck, even if it was just for a minute, and sweat flew from the tips of my damp, sweat-soaked hair.
Breck held his hand in front of his face, shielding himself as if I were a dog shaking after a bath. "Keep your bodily fluids to yourself, Jacks!"
I reached down and gripped the waistband of my shorts. "Don't test me, Breck! I could piss at the drop of a hat," I can't. We both know that. I just love to push his buttons.
Drawing my attention, behind Breck, Ryan jumped up and down with surprising air-time. "Toss to me, Jacks! I'm open!"
No shit.
But it was his way of putting us back on track when we veered off—an unusual skill Ryan had picked up in the last couple months.
I threw the ball to him like a bone to a dog—
Fuck, I cursed. What is wrong with me? I need to stop comparing all situations to dogs.
God, I needed some sleep.
"Hey!" I ran a hand over my damp skin. "I think I'm going to head inside for some water, and maybe a shower. Is that cool?" I don't know why I felt the sudden need to ask.
Yes, I do.
Things are different now that she's here.
Breck tossed the ball. Ryan jumped, caught it, and crashed to the ground in a heap. "Sure," Breck held a hand at his forehead, shielding his eyes from the setting sun. "We'll probably be in soon anyway."
Without another word, I headed for the front door. Their shouts grew muffled as I shut the door behind me, and the cold, inside air attacked every surface of my damp skin.
The halls were silent, as they usually were. Though it was typically because Breck's dad was always out of town on business and the house was empty.
Which made it our home base during all the seasonal breaks—summer, winter, fall, and spring. But this year was different. The air seemed... heavier, knowing that someone was here, but their presence had done nothing to change its lonely atmosphere.
