Chapter One

Let’s start from the beginning.

            California. A town on the outskirts of Los Angeles called Brentwood. I couldn’t fathom how differently it all was from my former hometown in Illinois. Forest trees turned into palm trees; rocks into sand. The sun was brighter, the air was saltier, and the noise louder.

            I wasn’t sure where I belonged. Everyone was skinny and fashionable with long hair, tan skin, and fake nails. I was tall enough for my age—seventeen years old—with average brown shoulder-length hair and average brown eyes. My body was far from “the perfect body” that society had constructed. I had a belly. My thighs touched. My breasts were smaller than the ideal size. Not to mention my clothes, which weren’t form-fitting or sexy. They were plain and simple, and they tended to hide most of the body I wasn’t exactly proud of. Here in California, I felt like an outcast.

            Eventually I found my way (sort of). I hadn’t entirely submerged into the foreign city but I bought some colorful shorts and tank tops and curled my hair and wore lip gloss until I felt like I was a member of the Capitol from The Hunger Games. I went to school and drove my sister Marie to and from her cross country practices like a good big sister. I guess I looked like I fit in, but my mother wasn’t convinced that I was acting like I did.

            About a month after moving into our new house I was laying on my bed reading when my mom walked in and sat by my legs.

            “How are you feeling?” she asked, her face all serious and her eyebrows worried.

            I closed my book but I didn’t look up. “I’m fine, mom,” I replied (I lied).

            She knew better. “Aria, you’ve been holed up in this house reading your book for the past month—,” but when I was about to protest she continued, “—and when you do leave the house, it’s because you’re either driving to school or driving your sister to practice.”

            I still wasn’t looking at her. I glared at my feet and said, “When’s she getting her license anyways?”

            She was exasperated. “Honey, you know we decided to wait and start her driving school until after we—”

            “I know. I know.” I had known the answer; I hadn’t known what to say. I finally looked up at her. Concern still clouded her pretty blue eyes—the same eyes Marie had been blessed with.

            “Make some friends,” she spoke softly now. “Get out of the house. Look at this place! Sweetie, I know it isn’t home. But it has so much to offer and it can be really fun if you’d just let it. Go explore. You don’t know what you’ll find.”

            “Mom, you don’t get it. No one wants to befriend me. They already have all the friends they need. Besides, what am I supposed to explore? I’ve already got this place figured out. It’s hot, loud, and overrated. I don’t like it. I’ll never feel okay here.”

            “Never say never,” she told me. She smiled, patted my leg, and stood up and walked out of my room. Suddenly I regretted everything I’d said. My mom was only trying to cheer me up. I glanced at the poster of Justin Bieber on my wall and smiled because she had known exactly what to say in order to do that.

            I told myself I’d never say never again.

*          *          *

            The next day I made some friends at school. They were pretty and really nice and once I actually spoke to them, they welcomed me like we’d known each other for years. Rachel had long blonde hair and fierce green eyes full of intelligence. She liked to read books like I did and she told me that sometime she wanted to show me a special place where she liked to read. Lauren was tall with smooth mocha skin and I recognized her as one of the muscular girls from Marie’s cross country team. She was the most sarcastic person I’d ever met. She was funny.