Ignited (Ignited Series, #1) Chapters 1-8

Chapter 2

I had a long therapy session with my journal that evening. Gran checked on me once, brought me some food. She must have guessed that I had a rough day and left me alone. She was always good about that.

I fell asleep late and woke up late, with the journal sprawled across my chest and sunlight peeking through the curtains. I glanced at the clock and groaned. I flung the journal across the room, crawled out of bed, dressed in the first thing I found, ran a brush through my hair and ultimately decided to pull it up in a ponytail.

I was going to be so late.

I grabbed my cell from the kitchen counter and checked it as I dashed out the door. There were two missed calls from Callie half an hour ago. She would have gone to school without me by now. That left me to walk, which would make me even later.

It was a fifteen minute brisk walk to the school. Second period classes were half way over by the time I got there. Racing through the front door, I didn't see the boy until I crashed into him, and sent the contents in both of our arms scattering across the lobby.

I groaned again. This day was not off to a promising start.

I glanced at the victim of my clumsiness, a meek apology ready, and stopped with my mouth gaped open, the words stuck to my tongue.

Whoever he was, he was cute—like just stepped out of a magazine cute. His dirty blonde hair was purposefully and stylishly unruly. The jade hue of his eyes was so bold there was no way they could be real. A ring hooked his left eyebrow and I glimpsed part of a tattoo on the back of his neck, above the collar of his shirt. His clothes—faded and torn jeans and an Abercrombie t-shirt—fit as if they were made for him.

He could be the poster boy for chastity belts. His easy smile promised trouble, like he knew he was every father's worse nightmare. The flash of a tongue ring drew my eyes to his mouth, and he beat me to an apology, since I was temporarily stunned.

"I'm sorry." He stooped to pick up the mess at our feet. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

He had an accent I couldn't place. And, my God, those eyes...

Where did this guy come from? He had to be the new kid. Callie was right. He was hot.

"I'm pretty sure I ran into you." I picked up a few books that weren't mine and handed them to him. "I'm running a little late."

"That makes two of us." He shrugged like he didn't care, and I was sure he really didn't. He handed me the strewn contents of my book bag and a blush rose on my cheeks, though I didn't know why. Things could have been worse. It could have been a gym day and my sports bra had hit the floor at his feet. I should be grateful that it was only a pack of cheese-flavored crackers he held out to me. "Healthy lunch?"

"Better than the food the school tries to force on us," I returned with a shrug.

He nodded like I had said something ingenious. "It really is horrible. My last school wasn't this bad."

Having collected our belongings, we both stood and started toward the office to check in. One of those annoying high school rules meant to keep us in line, and the adults in charge. Or so they thought.

"Where was your last school?" I asked, wondering about that accent I had detected.

Like everyone else, he was several inches taller than me and had to look down when he answered. "Colorado. Outside Aspen." He would be a skier. No, snowboarder. He had that pot-smoking girl-on-each-arm snowboarder vibe.