Mourning Gloria

By Katie Michelle

Gloria Westerly doesn't have a friend in the world before moving to Century City. Though living with her aunt on the property of the wealthy family she works for is odd, stranger still is the mansion's only occupant. While there is certainly a story to the Rigby's son, Adam, Gloria is distracted entering her final year of high school when she meets the carefree troublemaker, Edge Rider.
Like Adam, Edge can tell there's more to Gloria under the surface. If anyone can dig deep enough to understand her past trauma, it would be Edge. And maybe she'd like him to try. However, Gloria has no way of knowing that getting closer to him means stepping into a feud between friends; one centered around Adam Rigby and Edge's legal guardian, Jet Veron. Adam warns Gloria to get out while she can, but it's too late.
She's already in.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Michelle
• Release date: Sep 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386117803

Book preview

Prologue

He would have given up what little remained in his world to be anywhere but here. A week ago, his life shifted into a hellish nightmare and reality had unraveled. It ended the moment a small bullet exploded from its chamber and soaked the alleyway’s dark pavement with blood. It was something he couldn’t bear to experience once, much less over and over again in every passing second.

Since that night, even his perception of time had been disabled. His body ran on complete autopilot, his mind like a machine rendered suddenly inoperable after being dumped into the freezing river.

Everything seemed foreign, as though being experienced by someone else. Though his emotions had yet to resurface—he couldn’t be sure if they ever would—the physical feelings around him were dulled and distant as well. He knew the heels of his black boots were sinking into the snow. He could tell the wind was blowing, seeing its effect on the barren branches of the trees above. He knew it was cold; the mannequins around him were donned in their finest coats, gloves, and scarves in the darkest black. If that wasn’t proof enough, every horrible, mocking breath he took visibly escaped his lips and dissolved into the morning mist blanketing Centennial Cemetery.

He was aware of everything, yet the only thing bearing remote resemblance to a ‘feeling’ coursing through his emptiness was agony. It was as though someone pierced a burning knife through his chest and had been ceaselessly twisting it. With the blade’s every rotation, more of him eroded and wore away. He had nothing left but pain. Nothing left but promises he had broken and promises he doubted he could keep.

Though he sensed the furtive glances of people around him, he had barely been able to look at anyone since stepping out of the limousine at this familiar place. His gaze just glanced off the other ‘mourners’ present.

A handful of people here did truly care. He knew that. But he couldn’t look them in the eye either. Everyone was gathered for a single purpose, but despite being one of the most emotionally involved, he hadn’t yet allowed his attention to rest on the casket—where she was.

Drawing a deep breath, he hung onto it as though the excess oxygen would help fill the void consuming the rest of his chest. It didn’t.

Releasing the air in a heavy sigh created a rush of warmth in front of him. Once the fog cleared, he finally let his dark eyes fall to the casket a few yards from where he stood. A shiver rushed through him when his gaze locked on the girl there for the first time that morning. He curled his black gloved fingers tight to his palms, staring at how her eyes were closed and her usually tanned skin was ghostly pale.

Looking at her now, it was impossible to tell if the last few months had really been worth it. Had everything that happened meant anything to her? Had he really saved her?

Emptiness in his chest ached when he noticed no cloud of air escaping her frozen lips. She was stone still, and it looked as though she was holding her breath, clinging to this one moment to hold off the promise of a painful eternity...

Chapter 1

The school bell ringing sharply in Gloria’s ears jerked her attention up from the sketchily-drawn map she’d been given. No surprise she was lost, but now she was going to be late to her first class as well. Her panic-stricken eyes darted across the few straggling students in the halls, but Gloria couldn’t summon the nerve to ask for directions. Instead, she glanced quickly at the papers again and hurried faster down the hall, checking the names on the plaques above each door.

After racing past another row of lockers, she stopped short when she saw the words ‘Mr. Lane’ at the next doorframe. Through the glass window beside it, a man stood at the front of the room, already dictating to rows of students before him. If he was that prompt, she might be in trouble.

Taking a deep breath, she shifted her bag on her shoulder and touched the door handle. Despite trying to be quiet, the creak of the door practically drew a spotlight to her.

You must be Miss Westerly. Nice of you to join us, the teacher said, bushy eyebrows rising toward his graying and receding hairline. Since this is your first day, we’ll show some leniency, but let’s try not to make a habit of tardiness.

Gloria nodded, letting the door close behind her. The teacher beckoned, and as she walked toward him, her eyes scanned over the thirty pairs watching her pass. Once she stood next to Mr. Lane, he turned to face the students again. Reluctantly, Gloria did the same.

Class, this is Gloria Westerly, Centennial High School’s newest addition. I trust we’ll all give her a warm welcome. Gloria looked around as the teacher spoke, trying to read the faces of the students. Though some still slouched in their seats and doodled in notebooks, most watched her with hints of interest in the change of pace to break homeroom’s monotony.

Is there anything you’d like to tell us about yourself, Miss Westerly, while you have the floor? Mr. Lane asked with a faint and polite smile on his lined face. Hope stirred in some students’ eyes that she would stall class time, but she shrugged, fiddling with her bag.

What did he expect her to say? Was she supposed to spill to a group of thirty strangers why she had suddenly moved across country to finish high school? Why she was now living with the aunt she barely knew? That was the last thing she wanted.

I don’t know. There’s not a lot of interesting things about me to tell. The teacher’s expression grew slightly more genuine at her words—almost paternal—or patronizing.

Well, I suppose that remains to be seen. I’m sure friends you make here will think otherwise. As for right now, you need a place to sit. He scanned the classroom for an empty desk but paused, his searching gaze growing perturbed.

Mr. Rider, how many times have you been told not to wear sunglasses in class? Take them off.

Gloria looked around, easily spotting the only student whose eyes hadn’t visibly followed her in.

Can’t, sorry, the boy said shortly with a smirk. Doctor’s orders. Eyes dilated, you know? He tapped the frames, lifting his eyebrows toward his explosion of dark spiky hair. Gloria glanced between the student and Mr. Lane like she observed the start of a tennis volley and waited to see who would score the first point.

The teacher sighed and shook his head. You can only get your eyes dilated so many times in two weeks of school, Mr. Rider. I should be calling your guardian.

"Go for it. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you again."

Mr. Lane inhaled deeply at his biting sarcasm, swelling much like an agitated puffer fish. Whether or not Mr. Veron wants to hear from me is immaterial. If you behaved half as well as he did, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Perhaps we should both call him in today’s detention during lunch. I’ll see you then.

Mr. Lane glanced again at Gloria, though irritation erased any once-existing expression of kindness. Sit there, he told her, pointing to an empty desk near Mr. Rider’s.

Hurrying toward her seat, she spared another glance at the dark-haired boy. His wrinkled brow might’ve looked a little annoyed, but the expression faded to a smooth mask again. When Gloria dropped her bag and sat down, she thought she felt him watching her and quickly looked away, reprimanding herself. Just because she couldn’t see his eyes didn’t mean he couldn’t see hers.

She settled where she sat, rubbing her forearms anxiously and busying herself with studying her schedule and map. Just as the teacher cleared his throat to continue the lesson, she heard a quieter throat clearing behind her.

The Rider kid still faced forward, but before she turned around again, he opened his mouth to mutter.

Welcome to Centennial, Miss Westerly.

...

Just like panic had washed over Gloria at the first school bell, a wave of relief hit her at the last. Making it through her first day had to be an accomplishment. She stood, gathering her notebooks and binder in her arms, and left her history class to join the throng of students.

After sitting alone at lunch and memorizing her schedule and map, she had managed to stow them away and make it to the rest of her classes on time. She hadn’t spoken to many people, and very few had spoken to her, but she didn’t mind. She hadn’t been a socialite at home and didn’t want to be one here either. She remained a small fish perfectly content to swim in a much larger pond.

And she could tell just how big this pond was by the number of people filling the hallways around her. It was hard to move without bumping into someone or being jostled, so she found herself breathing easier when the space opened up into the large commons of the school. It meant more room, but it looked like the central hub for students to meet their friends. She’d rather bypass all these people if she could.

A loud yell from a guy calling out to his friend made her jump. She turned instinctively to the sound and regretted it as soon as she collided with someone head on. The impact knocked her to the floor, and notebooks tumbled in a heap when she released them to cushion her fall.

Whoa, hey, watch where you’re going! called the vaguely familiar voice from above. The Rider guy from her homeroom looked down at her, lifting his sunglasses off the bridge of his nose and nesting them in his messily spiked hair. Irritation tinted his eyes—which she now saw were brown—but it faded some seeing her on the worse end of their encounter.

He glanced around as though hoping for an out, but finding none, he crouched in front of Gloria and quickly gathered up her notebooks. She stared at him, confused, until he offered her belongings.

Thanks, she said quietly, grabbing the stack and slipping it into her bag.

Whatever, don’t mention it. He got to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. Gloria took it. You’re the new girl from this morning. Westerly, right?

She nodded. Gloria. Looks like your eyes are feeling better. How was detention, um...? Gloria trailed her question off and the boy blinked his large brown eyes before realizing she was waiting for his name.

Oh, Edge, he said, Edge Rider. He shook her hand, making Gloria realize she hadn’t let go since he helped her up. She quickly released him then, as if that would make the prolonged moment less odd.

Your name can’t be ‘Edge Rider’. No one is named that. Her eyebrows rose as she waited for some eventual punch line. But ‘Edge’ just chuckled and shook his head.

My name is Edge. I didn’t say it was my real name, but it’s as real as you’ll know, so get used to it. He shoved his hands in the pockets of the light jacket he wore. And I’m sure you guessed the eye doctor thing was bullshit, but I wouldn’t know how detention went. Lane’s lucky if he gets me in his class the first time. I’m not going back for lunch when I’d rather be... I don’t know, anywhere else?

Gloria couldn’t have ignored a punishment like that, but found his cavalier attitude almost impressive, even if it might get him in more trouble tomorrow.

So where did you move from anyways? he asked. Seems weird to change schools at the start of senior year.

Oh, um... My parents still live in a small town in southern California. They’re getting divorced, and my mom... Feeling herself starting to ramble, she paused. It was better to keep it short. That made for fewer questions. I moved out here alone to live with my aunt.

Edge watched her and slowly nodded. After a moment, a light smirk touched his lips. "I didn’t know there were small towns in southern California. Glancing sideways, his eyes fell to the parking lot outside the wall of glass doors that made up the school’s front entrance. A small town to Century City... You’re seriously in for some culture shock—"

Rider! They both jumped and Gloria turned. Amongst the many bustling students, she saw the graying, balding head of Mr. Lane struggling to part the tide of teenagers between him and his prey.

And that’s my cue to leave, I think, Edge said shortly. But it was nice meeting you, Gloria. He smiled at her and turned away without another word.

Uh, yeah, she called after him. See you tomorrow.

Edge waved to her instead of looking back. Maybe!

Gloria stared after him until he disappeared in the crowd and she shook herself. Mr. Lane still approached and, not wanting to be questioned, Gloria took refuge down the nearest hall instead of following Edge out the main doors.

Most students’ refusal to stick around campus left this hallway much less crowded. She recognized where she was, having come through here earlier today for gym, and started towards the glass doors at the exit. She’d told her aunt she would try walking home—since that’s what she did in California—but maybe it would be better to call for a ride...

As she passed the large metal doors to the gym, a flash of movement through the windows caught her eye and she paused. Looking through the glass properly, she saw a small crowd of girls gathered in the center of the floor. Though she didn’t know them, their apparel of tights, leotards, yoga pants, and sports bras looked familiar. Swallowing hard, Gloria started to turn away when she noticed the piece of paper taped to the door with a short message in large, curly handwriting.

Sirens Practice

Girls interested in trying out are welcome to observe.

Gloria stared at the words far longer than it took to read them, hesitating at the term ‘Sirens’. This was Centennial High’s dance team. Her old high school had one, but she hadn’t even considered joining it since...

She shook her head to dispel her thoughts. Gloria wasn’t going to dance again. That dream had passed her by. And it was a good thing it did. Most days, she regretted ever starting in the first place. It was never worth it.

Taking a deep breath, she tore her eyes off the paper and turned away from the door, but she had barely taken a step when a voice stopped her. You gonna try out?

Gloria spun around to see the girl who spoke. With her head tilted, her sleek black hair fell straight to her elbow securely holding a duffel bag, and she searched Gloria’s face with sparkling, mocha brown, Asian eyes. At Gloria’s hesitation, a smile touched her lips.

Feeling her own voice stuck in her throat, Gloria quickly shook her head and dropped her eyes, probing her mind for an excuse. No, probably not. I’m new, so I should just focus on getting used to everything.

Yeah, I know you’re new. We have gym together, and you sit in front of me in math. I was gonna ask what shampoo you use ‘cause I liked that whole flowery thing, but I thought it might be random and weird. The girl brightened and held out her hand. I’m Amy, and you’re...?

Gloria.

Right, Gloria, yeah. Amy glanced at the gym doors beside them. You know, if you’re any good, it sucks that you won’t try out. A lot of our girls graduated last year and we could use some new talent.

No, really, Gloria said, shaking her head. If you’re looking for talent, I’m not it. I haven’t danced in years. I’d probably make your team worse.

You don’t know that. Amy flashed another smile and finally shrugged. It’s your call though. You could always watch today, and then decide if it’s something you might wanna try. She then looked over Gloria’s shoulder at the sunlight shining through the outside doors. Unless you had somewhere else to be. Afternoon practices can take awhile. But I could give you a ride home after if you wanted.

Almost against her will, Gloria thought about the offer. If nothing else, this girl was being nice. But dance team aside, she had other things to do. Like continuing to unpack. Maybe if she set up her room, she wouldn’t feel so paranoid that the property’s owners would evict her from their guest house the second they returned from vacation.

Then again, her Aunt Clara had encouraged her to make friends—as if she’d ever been good at that. Gloria wouldn’t try out for this team, but she could at least humor Amy.

After a moment’s consideration, she nodded. I’ll watch.

Awesome! She wasn’t given the chance to change her mind. Gloria flinched when Amy grabbed her arm, but she didn’t seem to notice as she tugged her along into the gym.

Immediately Gloria was hit with the nostalgia as dancers lined in formation and followed the teacher’s endless eight-count. It was almost chilling how foreign yet familiar this felt to her, and she wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. All she knew was that this was going to be different.

But sometimes different was... okay.

Chapter 2

Edge Rider wasn’t surprised to still be in a familiar alleyway after the sun left the city for the night. These situations usually went one of two ways. Either they waited for whoever contacted them to show up, or that person was already there, desperately waiting on them. Edge preferred the current scenario. It was just a little less unnerving and made a lot easier by the fact that he wasn’t alone. He was with his friends, and being around them really lightened the atmosphere of evenings like this one.

The four of them stood on a pair of fire escapes that traveled up the sides of the buildings, looking down at billows of steam rising from vents in the street below. It mesmerized Edge to watch the way moonlight reflected off the vapor, and he only looked up when Blake spoke from the landing a short ways across the alley.

How late is this guy anyways? I could’ve dyed my hair in the time we’ve been here.

Edge raised his eyebrows as Blake slumped over the rail, showing more of his light brown hair streaked with red, orange, and blond like a small fire burning a few feet away. Didn’t you just re-dye that?

Blake looked at him, still appearing to melt against the fire escape out of boredom. "Dude, that is totally beside the point."

Edge shrugged and grinned, but his best friend, Jet, spoke from behind him. Edge just enjoys being a smartass. Jet had been sitting on the stairs to the next landing, but stood now to step down. He rested his elbows on the railing like Edge and checked the watch on his wrist. I’ve got about five more minutes of patience. After that, we can leave. If he changed his mind about this shit—good for him.

Not exactly so good for rent though... Blake muttered to Daniel next to him, but Edge’s attention returned to Jet when he continued.

Speaking of your being a smartass, Edge. I received a scathing call at work today from my old English teacher. He tells me that you ‘sassed him and shirked your responsibility to attend the detention you were assigned’. I’m disappointed.

Though most of Jet’s sharp features were hidden in shadow, the smirk betraying his amusement broke through his even tone. Blake booed teasingly and Edge laughed.

Okay, in my defense, your old English teacher is my new homeroom teacher, and that class was actually interesting today. I might’ve been so surprised I forgot about detention.

One of the shadows cast on Jet’s face shifted when he raised an eyebrow. Edge could feel all of their skepticism and heard it in Blake’s tone. Dude, Lane couldn’t make a class interesting if he set something on fire.

"That’s true, you’re right, but he didn’t make it interesting. The cute new girl with the California tan did. I ran into her after school too. She seemed pretty nice—quiet, maybe—but nice."

Blake shrugged. Quiet should work for you, since you talk enough for three people.

Edge laughed but flipped him off across the alley and Jet lightly hit his arm. That playful smirk remained in his voice. Blowing off detention because you’re distracted by a pretty girl? You might have to do better than that.

Okay fine, shame on me, Edge said, holding tight to the rail and leaning back from it. I apparently need to be more careful. Wouldn’t want you grounding me or something. That would suck.

Edge grinned and Jet elbowed him. He opened his mouth to respond, but Daniel spoke first from across the way—slow and methodical.

"Sarcasm is really hard to get right now, huh?"

Actually it’s not, Blake answered as he looked at Daniel. Probably wouldn’t be for you either, if you listened to Jet and hadn’t already smoked like half as much as Mr. Punctuality’s planning on paying for.

Daniel’s only response was a grunt as he tugged his gray beanie down over his eyes and sank to the railing again.

Edge opened his mouth, but Jet’s hand on his shoulder quieted him. It was easy to hear why, and all four of them turned their attention to the sound of approaching footsteps at the alley’s back entrance. A silhouette was barely visible through the steam, and Jet checked his watch again before muttering, About time.

He pushed away from the fire escape’s railing and slipped down the hole in the platform while Blake did the same across from them and Edge and Daniel followed suit. Once he released the metal ladder, Edge dropped to the asphalt with a thud and straightened up beside his friends before they closed the distance between them and their new arrival.

Arrivals. No one had planned on greeting a small group of guys, but it was even more of a shock to see who was leading them. Jet froze in his tracks and held out his arm to keep Edge a step behind him.

Sorry I’m late, Jet. Happy to see me?

Edge wasn’t expecting to recognize the voice of their visitor—his voice—and the sound of it made everything in him freeze with an icy chill. It was familiar, but not friendly. Not anymore.

It was easier to get a better look at him when he stepped further into the moonlight, blond hair falling onto his forehead and watching them with startlingly bright green eyes.

Edge heard Jet take a deep breath and his voice was stoic and even when he spoke. Not sure ‘happy’ is the word I’d use, Rigby. You set this up tonight?

Adam Rigby smiled in response at first. But it was more mocking than pleased—it certainly wasn’t genuine and it didn’t touch his eyes. "Clever, Jet. You got it. Well... I didn’t set it up personally. But you get the idea. Just a little way of letting you know I’m back is all."

Text message might’ve sufficed, Jet said shortly, folding his arms across his chest, solidifying his stance. Where have you been? Haven’t heard from you in a few months. I figured we were done with this shit.

I spent the summer in Bermuda, actually. My parents sent a plane ticket I thought I’d take advantage of, so I visited them for a while.

Edge’s eyes flashed quickly back to Jet in time to see the briefest reaction that everyone expected. Blake and Daniel watched him too, but Jet didn’t really falter. He blinked any change in expression away and stared Rigby down with eyes cold as ever. Benjamin and Lucille. He said their names softly. And how are they doing?

Adam scoffed. How the hell do you think they’re doing? But hey—they’re going on some cruise this next week so they seem to be a lot better than me. Is that what you like to hear?

Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t? Rigby’s eyes just narrowed and Jet sighed. "You should be going on that cruise with them. Would’ve given you a longer break and saved us from dealing with your shit for another few months. That’s something I’d like to hear."

Jet barely got his words out before one of the guys behind Adam hurried forward and pulled a gun from inside his coat. With a shaking hand, he lifted it, aiming directly at Jet’s head and making the entire alley freeze. Edge’s hand jumped to his own waist, feeling his gun there, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blake and Daniel do the same.

But in that long moment, the world went silent. Nobody spoke or moved. Cars driving down surrounding streets made no noise. Even the vapor drifting through the cooling night air froze entirely while Jet stared down the barrel of the pistol pointed at him.

Then he laughed. But the sound wasn’t amused. It was sarcastic and cold and it cut the thickening tension like a serrated blade. He ignored the gun completely