Cold Quest

Chapter 1

Wyn Durkan POV

This darn hat was itching my ears, and my cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment. Surrounding me were drunk see-sawing people and though most would deny the latter they displayed definite signs of having had a couple shots too many. Their words were slurred, their steps clumsy as a toddler's, and the volume at which they spoke reached the high rafters. I was an expert at detecting drunks and alcoholics: not because I had ever taken a sip myself but because dear old Mom was quite fond of Dusty Mike's Bar.

"So what do you think? Yes or no?" A golden-eyed beauty asked me.

"Huh? Ummm..... Erm, what did you say?" Genius, Wyn, genius. You sounded like a real braniac. The others tittered at my apparent befuddlement as I stared at them, bewildered.

"We were asking if you wanted to grab a couple of Heinekens and head out with us?"

"I don't drink."

The buff jock seemed to find this hilarious as he barely managed to chortle out, "Don't worry pal, I'm sure there's plenty of lemonade just for you."

The Snow White look-alike sitting next to him smacked him on the shoulder, causing him to wince.

"What do you want Kendra?" He snapped, "Hes a sixteen year old single guy who doesn't drink or party! If that's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard then I dunno what is, right Leana?"

"Stop it," the honey blond, Leana I suppose, scoffed. "I want to get rip-roaring' drunk and I want to do it now!"

"Hey now Lee-Lee take it easy now. Wouldn't want your mascara to run when I smack you in the face for that bitchy attitude." Kendra smirked at her. Oh, yes. She was definitely my kind of girl.

"Ugh! Shut up! Let's just go," Leana's pert button nose crinkled with displeasure and her formerly plump lips were screwed up into a small wad. "Colton, come on! Wyn, you should come too."

"Bitch Alert: Code Red," I muttered under my breath, earning me a smirk from Kendra and her friend.

Arabeth Cordley POV

I was always a late bloomer. I uttered my first words when I was a two years old and had to repeat Kindergarten because my teachers worried that I wasn't equipped with the proper social skills. So I got to spend two years in Ms. Laney's classroom learning my ABC's and sticking crayons up my nose. All right so maybe I would never expose a crayon to such fearsome sights as my nasal cavities, but I did hate Kindergarten. And first grade. And second grade. And the remaining ten years of school.

If today had been a normal day and the universe had not been conspiring against me I would never have gone with the others. The one thing that I had been taught at Sunday School was that alcohol was the devil's drink. And that Eve should never have taken that damn apple. Cause then I wouldn't be out here trudging through snow piled up a foot deep.

"So, how's it going? I didn't quite catch your name back there. I'm Wyn, by the way." The handsome shaggy haired boy from earlier spoke up. He strode beside me, his hazel eyes looking at me curiously.

"Arabeth," I breathed, "My name is Arabeth. I'm from Paris, I'm 17 years old, and I'm fluent in French."

"Paris, huh? Must be nice living in a city as beautiful as that. What part of Paris do you live in?"

"I'm from Paris, Kentucky," I giggled. So many people are fooled into believing I'm from Paris, France. In truth, Paris, Kentucky was perhaps the most boring place on Earth. It was nicknamed Capital of Corny Jokes, Pervy Farmers, and Endless Boredom. Paris was an island lost in a sea of barley fields and our population was just under 7,000. It made one wish one was from Paris, France, "I learned French from our Rosetta Stone during the summer when I couldn't work on the farm with the others."