Never Say Goodbye

Chapter 1

I am engulfed in a book on my bed. I do this every so often to get away from life, to get away from everything. I just have to read, which might be hard for some people, but has always come naturally to me.

I learned how to read when I was eighteen months. I read the Harry Potter Series when I was five. I discovered the Divergent Series and The Fault In Our Stars when I was in sixth grade, and have been reading them non-stop since then. They never get old. They're always amazing.

The book I'm reading right now, Divergent, is my favorite book. The Fault In Our Stars is my second favorite.

I smile giddily as I get to my favorite part in Divergent.

I am in the middle of the sentence as someone knocks on the door. "Come in," I say.

My dad walks in. "Hey," he says. "It's 7:10. You're going to be late." I gasp. I have never been late to school. It's not that I'm a "goody-to-shoes" or anything, as some people may think. I just don't think that explaining why I am late to my principal as she paces the room is a great way to start my day.

I run as quickly as my 30-pound backpack will allow to school. Cars zoom past me. A blue car with a yellow lightning bolt on its side charges past me, dangerously close to the sidewalk.

Teenagers these days, I think to myself.

It turns around abruptly, going the other way. However, it is still in the same lane, still dangerously close to me. I break into a jog as this is starting to scare me. The driver continues. I start to sprint down the sidewalk. The driver swerves, trying to hit me. My backpack slows me down dramatically, but I still try to dodge the car. I succeed, but that drains my energy. The car swerves again, and I know I can't dodge this attack. As my body collapses forward, a chorus of raucous laughter erupts in the car. The car drives away, carrying the laughter with it. My elbow scrapes the concrete, and my knee is gushing blood. A hand reaches down. A boy, tall and extremely handsome, about my age, sixteen, pulls me up. I try to stand, but I end up crumpling to the ground.

He scoops up my small body and says, "I'm Caleb. You okay? I saw the car and pushed you aside. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice is low and rumbly.

"You saved me," I squeak. My voice is a mouse next to his lion's roar. He grabs my backpack and hauls it over his shoulder, ready to take me inside his house. He holds me under the knees with one hand and under my neck with the other. My long black hair flows behind me. He reaches for the doorknob and pushes the door open. Inside are black walls, a black carpet, and a black ceiling.

"My... dad's favorite color," he explains. I nod. A black couch sits on the black carpet. He lays me on the couch, though I barely know where it begins and ends. He disappears into a black room, which I suspect is the bathroom. His reappearance is accompanied by a damp black washcloth. He pats at my injury. This stings a little, but I barely notice because I only feel his touch. I only feel the electricity coursing through us. I wonder if he notices as well. He looks up from my wound, and I realize I have been watching him for far too long. "What?" he says.

"Nothing," I reply. "It's just... nothing." I shake my head.

"Okay." He applies a paste to my knee, and then a black bandage. Finally, he wraps up the whole knee with a black cloth. Patting my injury lightly, he says, "There. Good as new." I laugh. We both know it won't be as "good as new" for a while. Still, it feels good to be optimistic. "You can lie here for the day. Do you want me to call your family?" he asks.

I reply with, "No, I'm okay. I'll call them later."

"Okay. Rest. You need it." I nod and sleep pulls me down.