The First

By Sara Zaske

Cassie Craig is not the chosen one. Not even close.

She’s just an ordinary 15-year-old girl whose curiosity leads her to make a strange new friend, Violet.

But Violet is more than just a little weird. She comes from a group of people who were here on earth long before us. Powerful people. And they aren’t exactly happy with the way humans have been treating their planet...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Zaske
• Release date: Jul 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476438702

Sara Zaske

SARA ZASKE is an American writer who lived in Berlin for six and a half years. Her articles on her family's experiences in Germany have appeared on Time.com, in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and Bild am Sontag, Germany's largest Sunday paper. She lives in Idaho with her husband and two children. Sara is the author of Achtung Baby:An American Mom on the German Art of Raising Self-Reliant Children.

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THE FIRST

by Sara Zaske

Smashwords Edition

sarazaske.wordpress.com

The First

Copyright 2012 Sara Zaske

All rights reserved.

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Smashwords License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.

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Cover Art: a portion of beauty is suspect fair weather friends by Sarah Anne Graham

Copyright Sarah Anne Graham

www.sarahannegraham.com

To Zac

for always believing in me

and my crazy stories

THE FIRST

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

I should have never gone to the new girl’s house. The walls didn't need to melt, and the ground didn't have to disappear under my feet to know that I should have stayed far away from Violet Starkey.

Violet was weird.

She looked like one of those abducted kids who'd recently escaped from a locked basement. She was super small and skinny, all elbows and knees, and even though it’s sunny some 200 plus days a year in Oakland, California, Violet was pale as a zombie. From the state of her hair, she must have been terrified of a brush. And her clothes? They looked like they'd been bought twenty years ago, and I don't mean they're retro.

The strangest part was she hardly ever spoke, not even to the other losers in our class. If you asked her a direct question, she just stared at you from behind her mega-thick glasses. Even the teachers didn’t know what to do with her, and the rest of us, we ignored her. It was simply social suicide to hang out with someone like Violet.

But I couldn’t stay away. My dad always says I'm like a monkey and when I see something interesting I have to find out more, no matter how stupid or dangerous.

I wasn’t at all interested in Violet until that day we played volleyball in gym. Ms. H did a bad job of dividing up the teams, again. Angie, that's my used-to-be best friend, said Ms. H does it on purpose because she likes to watch the humiliation. This time, though it wasn't a perfect mismatch. Angie and I were somehow mixed up with the weaklings on the green shirt team, and our friends, Mattie and Emily, were on the much better red shirts. In fact, five of the six girls on the red shirts played JV volleyball. The sixth was Violet.

Why Ms. H put her with the jocks I’ll never know. Violet was so small. And jump? You would think she was rooted to the ground. That’s the funny thing. I mean the thing that I noticed.

It happened because Angie and I tried to make a real game of it. Two good players can hold a side in volleyball, sort of, but you have to push a lot of the dead weight out of the way. Angie and I were running around like crazy trying to keep our side alive. We quickly learned to aim at Violet because everyone else on her side was too good. Violet would just put her arms out and wait for the ball, which would fly right by her.

We were doing pretty well with this strategy until I managed to arc the ball right in front of the net, a feat which required giving Melissa Chang a bit of a nudge. Angie leaped over Niki Martinez to get the spike.

It was beautiful in a way. Everything slowed down. Angie hung in mid-air, in perfect position, her arm hiked back. She turned slightly looking for Violet. And then Wham! Angie let go, sending the ball straight for her head. At first, I thought Violet would duck, or at least cover her head with her arms in that cowardly way non-athletic kids always do. But Violet just stood there and took the ball full in the face.

All of us sucked in our breath. I think we expected screaming or full-on knock out, but Violet didn’t even fall down. She barely moved. The ball bounced off her forehead and went straight up into the air.

Everyone was looking at Violet’s face or the ball. I was the only one who looked at her feet. After the ball hit, she'd rocked back on her heels with her toes pointed in the air. She should have fallen, but her sneakers somehow remained attached to the floor. There were these long, white strings on the bottom of her shoes. My first thought was that she had wads of chewing gum on her soles. Before I could get a really good look, her feet came back down. I looked up and met Violet’s black eyes.

I was so creeped out that I didn't notice Emily dink the ball lightly over the net. It dropped right in front of me. Finally, Ms. H blew her whistle. That’s game! she shouted. Violet, is it? Let’s get some ice for that face.

Sorry about that, Angie yelled in the direction of Violet's back. The other girls headed toward the locker room, talking and laughing about Angie's slam.

Way to go dreamy! Angie punched my shoulder. We almost had them. What were you thinking about? Mike Garcia? I ignored her. I was concentrating on Violet’s feet as she walked across the gym. The soles of her sneakers looked flat, normal. I followed.

What’s up with Cassie? I heard Mattie ask behind me.

I knew they wouldn’t understand, but I had to find out what was going on. Violet sat down on the bench and accepted the ice pack Ms. H offered her. She dutifully held it to her forehead, even though there wasn’t a hint of color anywhere on her face.

Let me see your shoes, I demanded, when I reached the spot where Violet was sitting. She blinked at me, but raised a foot, offering it for my inspection. I felt like a shoe salesman as I hunkered down and rubbed my hand along the bottom of her sneaker. I don’t know what I expected, perhaps grooves where something popped out like those roller-shoes, but there was nothing, not even a piece of gum. I don’t get it, I said, wiping my hands on my gym shorts. How did you do that?

Violet stared silently at me like she always does when someone talks to her. This time, though, something flickered in her eyes. She shrugged.

You know what I’m talking about. I felt my voice rise in irritation. I quickly lowered it. There was something on your feet attached to the floor.

When Violet opened her mouth, her voice sounded creaky like it hadn’t been used in a long time. Do you want to come to my house for a play date? You could sleep over.

Laughter erupted behind me. My friends had heard. No one asks a 15-year-old girl over for a play date. That's little kid stuff. I stood up and crossed my arms. Why would I want to do that?

Violet's lips curved slightly, the first smile I'd ever seen on her face. Because you want to know.

She had me, and she knew it. Violet put down the ice pack and stood up. She was so short she barely came to my shoulder. See you after school on Friday, she said. I knew my friends had probably overheard, but I nodded anyway, slightly.

When I turned around, Angie, Mattie, and Emily were staring at me with open mouths. You are not going to that freak’s house! Angie said.

Yeah right, I replied. It only sounded sarcastic, so technically it wasn’t a lie.

~

Suddenly I started seeing Violet everywhere. I hadn’t realized she was in so many of my classes, but there she was in biology, English, even algebra. She always seemed to be sitting slightly behind me and off to the side, like she purposely chose my blind spot.

Now, I couldn’t keep myself from staring at her, especially her feet. The worst was when she caught me looking and gave me a creepy little smile. She never tried to talk to me, but on Thursday, she slipped me a note with her address and phone number, saying I should meet her in the parking lot after school the next day.

My mom seemed relieved when I told her I was going to Violet's house. There was a time she would have insisted on meeting the girl’s parents first, but ever since my surprise baby sister came along, and then Dad got called up for active duty, she'd been a little distracted, to say the least.

When I asked if I could go, Mom was trying to force feed Drew some strained plums because she couldn’t poop, and Drew was screaming and squirming. So Mom just said, It's nice you're making new friends. She did make sure I wrote down the address and took my cell phone with me, which was some comfort. After all, it was entirely possible I was going someplace where they hid abducted kids, never letting them see the sun or learn any social skills.

Friday at school, I hid my extra bag in my locker. There was no sense in calling attention to the fact that I was going to Violet’s. The day dragged, time moving so slowly I could hear the mechanical click of the clock before the arm moved, but when the last bell finally rang, I moved slowly, hoping my friends would leave without me. When I finally went to my locker, there was Angie, her curly, blond head leaning against the locker next to mine.

Sorry Ang, I can’t walk with you today, I said as I wrestled with my extra bag. I have to drop some stuff off at the dry cleaners for my mom. It’s in the other direction.

Angie eyed my bag and sniffed like she could smell a lie. What’s it called?

What’s what called?

The dry cleaners. Does it have a name? Angie asked.

I don’t know Goodie Good Dry Cleaners. I forget. What is this? Guantanamo?

Angie shrugged but seemed willing to let it go. Let’s walk to the parking lot at least. I sure wish my mom would let me drive. But she said not until I'm at least 18! Can you believe that?

Totally sucks, I agreed. My birthday was in a month, but I knew there would be no new car with a big pink ribbon on it for my sweet sixteen either. My mom won't even let me take driver's ed. I told Angie. She always says 'Driving is too dangerous. A car is too expensive. You can take the bus.' I imitated my mother's voice with a nasal whine.

Yeah, I'm going to work on my dad next. I'm going to point out that I can visit him more often if I can drive. You should try that angle... work them against each other.

I was going to remind Angie that my dad was in Afghanistan, not divorced and living in L.A. like her dad, but at that moment something caught her eye and she bounced ahead like an excited puppy.

I see Tim! You know what? He has a car! Maybe if we bump into him, he'll give us a ride. And who knows? Maybe Mike will be around too, and then he might just remember to ask you to the junior prom! Angie fairly bubbled over with her matchmaking plans. She grabbed my elbow dragging me forward.

Sometimes, I felt like Angie wanted me to date Mike Garcia even more than I did. I was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that he was friends with Tim Green, by far the best looking boy at Bay Charter High School, and Angie's latest obsession. Walking ahead of us with an assured stride, the golden-haired Tim suddenly paused and leaned against the wall. He flicked a baseball from one hand to the other, obviously waiting for someone.

Angie stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around with wide eyes. How do I look? she asked.

I paused like I was truly considering. You have something in your teeth, I said. I know, not the nicest thing to say, but I had to slow her down somehow.

Oh my God! Where? She dropped her backpack and started scrambling through it to find her pocket mirror.

Really Angie had no need to worry. With her blond hair and blue eyes, not to mention the tight t-shirts she wore, she always attracted a lot of attention. I talked too much to be popular. I just can't help saying what I think sometimes. And then, when I was little I used to tell stories about the fairies that lived in my backyard and the dragons my dad killed, that kind of thing. I stopped doing that ages ago, but some kids still called me Cassie Cannon Mouth because I guess I told some pretty big whoppers back then.

But Angie always stuck by me. She called me her talkative friend, like Emily was the brainy one, and Mattie was the nice one. I don’t mean I'm ugly. I have a normal face, brown eyes, and dark hair so straight you'd think I ironed it every morning. Maybe my mouth is a little large. I like to think I have a big smile. Some people might even call me pretty, but it's hard to stand out when you're standing next to Angie.

Especially when you're lugging a big, old bag down the hallway next to Angie. After Angie determined her teeth were fine, she started hurrying me along again. I was trying not to feel like Angie's personal bellhop when I spotted the familiar brown curls that rested against the back of Mike Garcia's neck. Yes, I thought even the back of his head was handsome. Then, he turned to greet Tim, and I dropped to the floor, seized by the sudden severe need to tie my shoes.

Mike Garcia always had this effect on me. It wasn't just that he was hot. He was also super nice. What's more, he once saved a kid from drowning. No joke. Some parents were arguing down at Jack London Square, and their little boy fell into the water. While everyone else was yelling or calling 911, Mike dove in, clothes and all. He even got his picture in the paper. Angie said it wasn't such a big deal since the kid weighed only 12 pounds. I didn't care. I still thought it made Mike Garcia some kind of hero, perhaps the kind of hero that wouldn't be afraid to date Cassie Cannon Mouth.

So I had a bit of a crush. It didn't help that that Mike's dad had moved into my building last fall when his parents split up. For months, I'd been making excuses to hang out in the hallway of our building, but it seemed impossible to catch sight of Mike Garcia. It was like he was an endangered bird or something.

Then, when I finally did see him, all I wanted to do was hide. I was afraid that Violet would be waiting for me outside the school's double doors. Or worse, that she would have a crazy mom who would yoo-hoo! me over to her stay-wag for our play date.

Angie pulled on my arm to get up, so I pretended to trip and drop my bag. Then I told her that one of her bra straps was showing. That took another 30 seconds to fix. When we finally made it outside, Mike and Tim were already climbing into Tim's car.

Violet was nowhere in sight. I was beginning to think she'd forgot when a truck in the carpool line moved, and there she was, standing at the far end of the parking lot, staring straight at me. She made no sign of greeting. She simply cocked her head to the right, turned, and walked away.

Suddenly none of it mattered. Not Angie, not the junior prom, not even Mike Garcia. I had to follow.

I waved off Angie's last desperate plans to catch Mike and Tim. I'm too nervous, I said, which was almost true. I'll throw up or something if I talk to him now. I left her standing at the curb, red-faced and gasping for words. I could feel her eyes on my back as I weaved my way across the parking lot in the direction that Violet had disappeared.

Violet didn’t wait. When I turned the corner, she was almost two blocks ahead. I tried to hurry without actually catching up to her. We went on like this for five blocks. Our school is in