Chapter One
Another year at Shelby Heights High School in not-so-sunny Shelby, Oregon . . . oh joy. Shelby isn’t exactly small, but it’s definitely not a city. Since I’m not exactly a “people-person,” the size is one of the few things I like about Shelby. That, and the woods that surround it. Tall pine trees are never out of reach. I’ve always been outdoorsy. My dad took off shortly after I was conceived and my mom raised me on camping trips and hiking. My name’s Alexondra Meyers, I know, pretty horrible. Mercifully, the few friends I have call me Xoe.
But I digress. Back to the matter at hand . . . junior year. I am not a fan of high school, or the teenage experience in general. I don’t consider myself antisocial, though most of my fellow students do. I just don’t like to waste my time with pretense. Why bother being nice to someone I secretly dislike? I’d rather have a few real friends than a bunch of fake ones.
I trudged towards the towering, gray brick monstrosity that was Shelby High. Where there wasn’t sidewalk or asphalt, the ground was covered with lush, green grass. Shelby is always green and moist, which is nice, except for the mold and mildew that tend to grow if you’re not careful. One time my mom got a new car windshield that wasn’t sealed properly. Within weeks the insides of her windows had grown algae.
I forced my sneakered feet to continue forward towards the school, focusing on the sound of my footfalls, one foot in front of the other. As I approached the dreaded double-doors, my best friend Lucy joined me. We usually walked to school together, but Lucy always got to school early on the first day. She liked to “prepare” her locker and map out all of her classes beforehand; she’s a bit of an over achiever, to put it mildly.
Lucy and I pushed through the double doors. I held onto the door I had entered long enough for a girl with a mass of brown curls to grab it and keep it open for herself; see, not antisocial. As we walked farther into the hallway to get out of the way of the doors, I glanced down at the top of Lucy’s dark-haired head. Lucy and I are pretty much total opposites when it comes to appearance. I’m a giant compared to her. Well, not really, but her petite 5’1” frame makes my willowy 5’8” seem excessive. Her long, dark, glossy hair is in complete contrast to my shaggy, shoulder-length blonde mop. Lucy’s skin is deep olive all year round, whereas mine is pale, and at times, a little pasty, what my mom kindly refers to as porcelain. Did I say that I’m a little jealous of Lucy? Ah well, I love her anyhow.
Lucy was wearing dark wash jeans with a pale blue button-up blouse. The tips of conservative brown shoes peeked out from the bottom of her jeans. Lucy’s sense of style errs on the side of caution. Her pin-straight hair was parted down the middle to cascade nearly to her waist, framing her fine-boned, delicate face, void of make-up.
Lucy’s almond-shaped brown eyes peered up into my wide green ones, waiting for my whining to begin. She’d had to deal with my complaining on the first day of school every year since 2nd grade. We’d become friends when my mom and I first moved to Shelby. Lucy’s family lives down the street from us. Alone and friendless, I went exploring in the woods behind my house, against my mom’s strict commands, and Lucy was doing the same. We both had a stubborn independent streak that constantly ordered us to disobey our parents. How could we not be friends?
To add to my first-day misery, the sky above Shelby was an angry gray, promising rain. Black clouds rolled ominously in the distance. So what else was new? I hate the rain. I’m not like a girly-girl that’s afraid to get my hair wet or anything, but I’m at my happiest when I’m outdoors, and it’s not terribly pleasant to be outside when it’s raining. So, despite my pallid appearance, I much prefer the sun. I took a deep breath of ozone-scented air. Let the whining commence.
