Half Life: A Novel

Chapter 1

                                                          Chapter 1

                                                           - Brynn -

With one hand, Brynn Sullivan wrenched open the towering double doors of Park Crest Academy, as she balanced her black messenger bag and oversized artist’s sketchpad in the other. 

At best, the arrangement was risky and exceedingly precarious. But Brynn was late for homeroom – for practically the hundredth time that month – and if she didn’t hurry, she was likely to miss her first Calculus test of the term, which would mean an automatic F for the quarter.

Not that Brynn was likely to do much better even if she took the damn thing – she wasn’t exactly a math wiz. And Mr. Wright’s AP calc tests were notoriously convoluted and ridiculous.

But Brynn was stubborn. And at her mother’s insistence, she’d spent the better part of the last three nights preparing for this one stupid test. So if Mr. Wright wanted to fail her because she earned a failing grade, then that was his prerogative. But she sure as hell didn’t intend to roll over and let him do it without at least pretending to put up a fight. Otherwise, her guidance counselor might call her parents again... And that was the absolute last thing she needed.

As Brynn struggled, in vain, to maneuver herself – and her ridiculous sketchpad – through the obviously too-narrow opening, a large hand reached out from behind her and held the door firmly in place.

Confused, Brynn quickly jumped back from the door and immediately felt a warm, steadying pressure – presumably, the person’s other hand – on the small of her back.

“Sorry,” a boy’s voice called from behind her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that…” He paused. “Well, you looked like you needed a hand.”

As the boy spoke, Brynn turned to face him. And froze.

It was him. James McAllister. And, hands down, he was still the most beautiful boy that Brynn had ever laid eyes on.

When Brynn didn’t respond, James bit his bottom lip and then continued.

“Are you okay?” he asked. And then he cocked his head to the side curiously, as if finally seeing her for the first time since he’d come. 

“Brynn?” he asked slowly. And when she still didn’t answer, he quickly scanned his eyes over her newly dark hair and her rumpled Park Crest uniform and then smiled. 

“Well, you look different,” he said finally. And he was right. She did look different. Her hair had been light the last time he’d seen her – a sort of lemon and sun-kissed-sandy-blonde color that had almost looked natural, but wasn’t. And she’d had freckles all along her nose and cheeks where the sun had touched her – a remnant from a whole summer spent at the beach doing nothing but swimming, and sailing, and kissing… And about a million other naughty things that she absolutely refused to think of now.

But, really, it was more than that. She’d been normal then. And happy. Happier than she’d ever been.

And then, in a matter of days, one brutal crime and a series of increasingly cryptic phone calls had somehow changed everything.

It was the Order… McAllister knows... Don’t trust him…

Brynn cringed. She wouldn’t dwell on that now. She couldn’t. Not here. And not in front of James of all people.

But that didn’t stop her from feeling like a shadow of her former self under the intense scrutiny of his disarming and impossibly-deep blue gaze. Because, even after all these months, she still felt empty, and hollow, and utterly broken without him.

And, frankly, she looked it – with her dark matted hair, and her worn button-down sweater, and her scuffed Mary Janes. Not to mention the ever-increasing dark circles that had recently taken up residence under her eyes.

But who was she kidding? She didn’t look that bad! And it had been eleven months, after all.

Eleven whole months without so much as a phone call, or an email, or even a goddamn apology.

And, yet, here he was, at her school of all places, wearing a faded Park Crest blazer and a crooked red tie, and talking to her like nothing had happened – like her sister hadn’t been senselessly murdered and his dirtbag older brother hadn’t been the one responsible.

And somehow, in spite of all that, he still knew exactly what to say to make her feel giddy, and vulnerable, and completely transparent all over again…  

Frankly, it was maddening. So much had changed these past few months. And, still, he affected her so much that he could practically eviscerate all of her hard-won personal defenses with only a single glance. And, for that, she hated him.

Like, really, really hated him. Like she’d never hated anyone…

Except, deep down, she knew that she didn’t. Not like she wanted to. Because he knew her. And he got her. And once, she had even believed him when he’d said he loved her. 

But that had been a long time ago. Before her life had quickly gone from perfect to thoroughly horrifying in less than an hour’s time. And then had rapidly continued to spiral downward as the idiot detectives in the Gramercy Homicide Division had repeatedly botched the investigation, chasing down one wrong lead after another until everyone realized, only too late, that Caleb McAllister had really and truly gone off the grid without so much as a word, or even a whisper, regarding his whereabouts. 

Of course, it hadn’t helped that James had defended him, over and over, even when all of the evidence – including a very mysterious voice on the other end of an even more mysterious phone call – had clearly dictated otherwise. And that was only the beginning.

But, once again, Brynn’s thoughts were going somewhere they shouldn’t at the worst possible time. So, instead of rehashing the past for the gazillionth time that week, Brynn straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes in a glare.  

“Listen—” she started. “As lovely as it is seeing you—" Brynn stopped and shook her head. “You know what, scratch that. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but feel free to leave any time.”

“Brynn,” James paused, looking pained. “I’m sorry—"

“No," Brynn cut him off. “You don’t get to apologize. Not after all this time.” As James moved closer and reached his hand out to hers, Brynn allowed herself to enjoy the familiar heat of him for a moment too long before forcing herself to step slowly away. “And you don’t get to touch me,” she added coldly. “You lost that right a long time ago.”

“If you’d just let me explain—” James started again.

“No,” Brynn repeated. She wasn’t falling for his smooth words and empty apologies. Not this time. It was too little, too late, as far as Brynn was concerned. And the fact that his touch made her quiver – and literally warmed her to the core – certainly couldn’t change that. “And, anyway,” she added. “I don’t have time for this. I have a calc test in 5 minutes and I literally know nothing.”

“Brynn, come on—" His voice was pleading now, but Brynn still wasn’t having it. She’d worked too hard at moving on to let one stupid boy ruin everything, even if he happened to be the love of her life.

“Look, James.” Her voice was firm this time. “Just stay away from me, OK? You owe me that much.” And before he could utter a single syllable in response, Brynn turned on her heel, slipped through the door, and sped off down the hall in the direction of the Math Wing.