The Awakening (Hasea Chronicles Book I)

By Stuart Meczes

THE HASEA CHRONICLES COMPENDIUM OUT NOW! Featuring books II, II, IV and 0

Thousands of copies sold. Over TWO MILLION pages read. Tons of 5 star reviews. Find out why this THE Urban Fantasy series people are talking about!

Alexander Eden is one unhappy teenager. A geeky, social pariah, he's the victim of constant bullying at school. His home life isn't much better with a stepfather who resents him and a half brother who is better than him at everything.

But that all changes the day the mysterious and beautiful Gabriella De Luca walks into his life. Everyone wants to know her, to be with her. But she is interested in Alex.

Because Alex is different.

Soon afterwards he is thrown into a world he never thought possible. A world where he and others like him are the last line of defence. A world where an ancient unspeakable evil lurks.

Evil which seeks to consume him.

DILECTI SURGEMUS - SOCII POLLEMUS
(Chosen we rise - Allied we prevail)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stuart Meczes
• Release date: Nov 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463104248

Stuart Meczes

Stuart was born in South London, England, but now spends his time in the quaint city of Worcester. After getting fed up of high pressured rat race of big city work, he decided to pursue his dream of writing. As soon as he started, he knew there was no going back. He quit his job and re-entered full time education to get a better understanding of the writing process. He achieved an upper first class degree in English and Creative Writing at the University of Birmingham in 2013. Now he writes full time, creating novels, short stories and even the occasional blog on his website www.stuartmeczes.com. Feel free to send him an email, he loves replying to them - it fuels his procrastination. From Stuart - To all of you who have purchased any of my books, I am so very grateful. It's because of your support that us indie writers can keep going. Thank you.

Book preview

Without A Heartbeat (Hasea Chronicles Book 0)

Misfortune Market ( Hasea Chronicles Book I.5)

The Corruption (Hasea Chronicles Book II)

The Veil (Hasea Chronicles Book III)

The Rising (Hasea Chronicles Book IV)

Tommy and the Simbots: The Golden Wing

Coming Soon

The Convergence (Hasea Chronicles Book V)

London Burning (The Grit Saga Book I)

THE

AWAKENING

STUART MECZES

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

THE AWAKENING (HASEA CHRONICLES BOOK I)

Copyright © 2011 by Stuart Meczes

Cover art by Claudia Mckinney. (Phatpuppyart.com)

Photography by Teresa Yeh

ISBN 978 7817 6006 2

All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher or author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Stuart Meczes asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

Published in 2012 by FeedARead.

British Library C.I.P. A CIP catalogue record of this title is available from the British Library.

To my fantastic parents.

No matter how lost I got, you were always there to show me the way back.

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Also Available

Author Note (2018)

0

Part I: Awakening Eden

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

Part II: Chosen

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

Part III: Eye of the Abyss

21

22

23

24: Dawn of Midnight

25

26

27

28

29: Baptised in Blood

30

31

32

33

34

35

Epilogue

Free Books

The Corruption Sample

About the Author

0

The Depraved appear in the distance - hundreds of them, scuttling, jumping and crawling their way through the pouring rain. A sea of evil, surging towards me.

It had all ended so fast. I look down at my twisted, broken body and a bitter laugh escapes my lips.

Some hero I turned out to be.

I was meant to protect the world; I couldn’t even protect her. It dawns on me that I’ll never hold her again; never smell her sweet hair.

I can taste blood in my mouth. I try to spit it out, but have no energy left. It just dribbles pathetically down my chin. More comes up to take its place. Not a good sign. I know I should get up, should fight to my last breath. I’m just so worn out, and without her, what’s the point anyway?

The stench of smoke and scorched metal fills my nose. An intense throbbing in my side draws my attention and I discover with a flash of nausea that a scaffolding pole has speared through my ribs, pinning me to the ground. I’m not healing anymore; I can’t even summon the will to try.

This is it then, the end of the road.

I’m going to die here.

I close my eyes, trying to let the images of her face occupy my mind. I want my last thoughts to be of her. For some reason I can’t make them stay shut. The curiosity in me needs to see how it all ends.

The creatures surround me. There is a crescendo of baying and twittering laughter as they study me. Standing in the centre is The Sorrow. Even though the iron mask covers its face, I know it’s wearing a sick, triumphant smile. It crouches down and presses a metal knee against my chest. The weight crushes all of the air from my lungs. I have to use all of my remaining strength to gasp the next breath.

The Sorrow lifts an armour-clad arm up to its artificial face, the screech of the metal joints like rusty door hinges. There is a click as it unlocks the straps. The mask dislodges with a wet pop.

So this is how it’s going to be.

The excited chattering rises into an ear-splitting roar. There’s no escape. It starts to pull the iron face away, wanting to show me what lies underneath. I let out a long, final sigh.

Now comes the end of everything.

PART I

AWAKENING

EDEN

1

Terry Burton’s fist exploded into my stomach like a piston.

I grunted as the wind rushed from my lungs. He let go of my jacket and I crumpled to the ground of the school parking lot, chest wheezing and mouth flapping as I struggled for air. White-hot pain blazed through my abdomen and it took all of my strength not to vomit.

Haha, the little prick looks like a fish! Terry smiled over his shoulder and I glanced up through watering eyes at the rest of his entourage. They were all laughing at my baffled expression. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong - I never did. Not that it mattered anyway. Every day was the same, I would get a shoeing by Terry – my own fulltime, personal bully - and his mates would hover around him like flies on turd, egging him on.

He reached out and seized a handful of my hair. I winced, still gasping as he dragged me back to my feet. Terry was half a foot taller than me and well built, he had to hunch over to bring his face close to mine. There were only a few centimetres between us and I could smell his hot, reeking breath on my face. I gagged; he stank of alcohol and stale cigarettes.

I don’t ‘member you askin’ for permission to park in my spot, Eden! He unclenched a fist from my jacket and stabbed an accusatory finger at my clapped out Peugeot. I tried to respond, even though it was pointless. We all knew what was coming. B-but it’s free parking and you don’t own a c-

Terry cuffed me across the face, making spots appear in my eyes.

Don’t you dare interrupt me when I’m speakin’, he barked in his thick, South London accent. A fresh wave of laughter rang from his gang behind him. My face went red hot from a mixture of pain and humiliation.

"Listen up. That is my parkin’ spot and I’d already decided to loan it out to TJ’s girl. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the wiry black guy, who stood at the right of the crew, arms folded. TJ nodded in agreement, a large smirk on his nasty face. But like a selfish arsehole, you’ve been in that spot all day, he continued, stabbing a finger into my chest, and she had to pay for parkin.’ That ain’t no way to treat a lady is it?"

He didn’t wait for an answer, just wrenched my head from side to side. The pain made my eyes water. Glad you agree, mate. Now why don’t you be a good little girl and run along home. He let go of my hair and gave my shoulder a hard shove. Have a good night sweetheart.

The gang pushed me about as I collected my schoolbag from the ground and shakily pulled out my keys. They gave my car a few half-hearted kicks as I reversed out of the space and headed back the way I'd come. I waited until I was out of eyesight and pulled over. With a scream, I started punching the steering wheel over and over as tears brimmed in my eyes.

Why? Why does this keep happening?

Something tapped against the window and I turned to see an old man peering in at me, clutching a walking stick in one hand.

You okay, sonny? he asked in a concerned tone.

Uh, yeah, fine. Um thanks. I fumbled at the gearstick and revved away, leaving the old man staring after me.

By the time I had reached home, I’d managed to calm myself down enough to be back in control. I swung the car onto the driveway, its rusted blue paint job and missing passenger handle making it stand out against my stepfather’s gleaming black Lexus. Once parked, I repositioned the rear-view mirror to check my face for damages.

Only a small bruise, I can probably get away with that.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, fumbling through my keyring and letting myself in the front door.

Alexander, we’re in here! called my mum from the kitchen. You want something to eat?

Later, I mumbled and trudged up the stairs. Barging open the door to my room, I threw my bag next to the wardrobe and slumped down on my bed. Leaning over, I lifted the corner of the mattress and retrieved the photo from its usual spot. My father stared back at me, brown hair swept back over one side of his head, and face brimming with youth and intelligence. Sadness tugged at the walls of my stomach.

Hey, Dad.

I’d never quite understood the emotion I felt. The man in the picture had died before I was old enough to even remember him, yet every single time I saw his picture the pain was immediate and raw. I lay back on the bed and stared up at the photograph as I always did, imagining what it would be like to still have him in my life – how different things might be.

Alex, dinner!

The barking tone of my stepfather John thundered up the stairs. My eyes snapped open and I wiped sleep from my eyes. The photograph was lying next to me on the bed. I must have fallen asleep.

Tucking the picture back into its place, I climbed out of bed. Outside, the heavy pattering of rain had started up. It was only early evening, but the darkness through the window was so thick; it could just have easily been the middle of the night.

Yet another miserable day in London.

I trudged downstairs and into the kitchen. It was one of those open plan affairs - the blue and white tiled kitchen blending into a carpeted area filled by a large oak table. The rest of my family were already assembled. Mikey - my half-brother - sat at the table, shovelling tomato soup into his mouth. John was leaning over one of the worktops, studying the evening newspaper spread out on its surface. He thumbed through the pages, tutting at the headlines and shaking his head. He paused occasionally to take sips of under-milked tea from the mug clutched in his gorilla-like fist.

More murders, he grumbled, talking to no one in particular. These poor bastards were found without any blood or organs left in ‘em. Probably black market stuff. I’m beginnin’ to wonder why we ever moved here. It’s supposed to be a good area!

Mum, who was as usual darting around the kitchen like an agitated wasp, murmured an agreement. Her famous – or rather infamous – chilli con carne was burning away on the hob. Thick steam curled up in rolling loops before getting sucked away by the extractor hood. She glanced over.

How was Sixth Form today, sweetheart?

Amazing. I got punched in the stomach and slapped in the face for stealing a free parking spot from a bully’s girlfriend who doesn’t exist.

Uneventful, I said with a shrug. How was everyone else’s?

Good thanks, honey, said Mum. John grunted without looking up and Mikey mumbled something indecipherable through his mouthful.

Dinner will be ready in two, soup is on the table if you want some, Mum added and went back to tend to the pan. Oh no, I think I’ve burned the rice.

Taking my spot at the table, I poured a glass of cola, deciding not to risk the soup. A few minutes later a dinner that looked like it had been cooked by nuclear blast was set down in front of me. Mum was never going to win any culinary awards, but she did her best.

Thanks, I said, trying out a smile.

John closed his paper, and limped over, tea in hand. Once seated, he absently rubbed his knee with one hand whilst using the other to drown his food in ketchup. For a while there was no sound but the clatter and scrape of cutlery. Then John looked at me. He held the gaze for a second before clearing his throat. I sighed.

Here we go.

Alexander, he began in that tone. I was chatting to Pete down at the pub the other night…you know, Andrew Pearson’s dad?

Yep, his son is one of the guys who enjoys making my life a living hell. Yeah I know him.

Well he said that the school is doing footie trials. Why don’t you have a crack?

Mikey descended into a fit of laughter, dribbling soup down his chin. He cut it short when Mum shot him a reproachful look. John kept his gaze fixed on me while he waited for my response. He might as well have asked me to pole vault Everest. There was no way I could ever join a football team. Not because I didn’t want to. I’d often fantasised about being the guy who scored goals and girls. But I’d been born with an allergy to sports. I was liable to trip, drop, miss, fumble and foul my way through any game. Plus my fitness levels were worthy of any nursing home. Ninety minutes on a football pitch? No chance.

The problem was that my family revolved around sports. John had been a pretty talented striker in his better years and even managed to get scouted for Chelsea’s youth team. That all ended when he’d beaten up a guy outside a pub after a drunken argument. The same guy had come back later with a crowbar and tested John’s reflexes for him. After months of surgery he’d left the hospital with a fake kneecap and no future. He now worked as a sports physiotherapist, determined to make sure other people achieved what he couldn’t. I had respect for that and would probably have told him as much, if he weren’t such a condescending dickhead.

Mum coached children’s tennis part-time at the local leisure centre. She loved her job and always came home armed with stories about how little Jimmy had done this, or Katie had said that. Everyone tended to switch off, appeasing her with nods and smiles.

Then there was Mikey.

Brilliant at every conceivable sport known to mankind, the prodigy had chosen to focus his efforts on football. Already playing for the county youth team, it was simply a matter of time before a sharp-eyed scout scooped him up. So it seemed only natural that I should follow suit. Instead I was the odd one out – the runt of John’s alpha pack.

I tried to think of how best to proceed without igniting a row. Don’t think I’ll bother. You know football isn't really my thing.

John took a long slurp of his tea and smacked his lips. "Alexander, you never know what your potential is unless you try."

As if a button had been pushed, I felt my face flush as the familiar anger boiled in my stomach. I’m sorry if being an A star student isn’t good enough for you John. How I must disappoint, I fumed.

"Actually, I was thinking it might help you make some friends."

That defused me. I dropped my eyes down to my plate and stabbed at the overcooked food with my fork. Social status was a sore spot. I wasn’t good looking enough to make instant friends and the awkwardness I felt within my own skin made it hard for me to hold a decent conversation. Most people never persevered long enough to see if I had a personality hidden somewhere.

I had manage to secure a single friend, Tim, who’d had the bad luck to choose a seat next to me in a lunchtime study club. Over time I’d managed to wear him down with bad jokes and proximity until we fell into the ‘mates’ classification. However, unlike me, Tim had plenty of other friends, so I spent a lot of time alone.

Not quite finished with his scrutinising of my existence, John looked to my mother for support. Don’t you agree, Elaine? he questioned, gesturing towards me.

Mum gave a weary sigh. Just let him be who he wants, John. He’s not Michael.

Ain’t that the truth.

Mikey was two years younger than me at 15, but looked older. His constant football and gym training had given him a pretty good physique. In comparison I was thin and gawky - skin stretched over twigs. He sported a healthy olive complexion, whereas my skin glowed with the anaemic pallor of a computer hacker. His hair looked like it had been lifted from a shampoo ad, whereas mine was as brittle as straw and took about half a tub of wax to smash into submission. The singular trait that we both shared was our bright green eyes. Apart from that, we looked so different; most people simply didn’t believe we were related. Others liked to suggest that my real dad must have been an inbred.

Which was always nice to hear.

Not wanting to partake in any more judgemental conversation, I kept my gaze on my plate and ate my dinner in absolute silence. Switching off was the best way I knew how to deal with things. The rest of my family were used to it - they carried on talking to each other, as if I wasn’t there.

No one noticed my bruise.

*

I shrugged into my black parka jacket and grabbed my bag from the sideboard in the hallway.

Hey bro, can I grab a lift to school today? asked Mikey, appearing from the kitchen. I’ve got no football training this morning.

Uh yeah sure, I said, wiping my eyes and trying not to yawn. I’d had a really bad night’s sleep, full of strange dreams that kept making me wake up.

I’m going in with Alex, Mikey shouted back into the kitchen, where Mum and John were still eating their breakfast.

Okay, drive safe, came Mum’s standard reply.

The air was bitter outside, winter creeping in from every angle. Mikey jiggled up and down on the spot to keep warm as I leaned across and opened the passenger door from inside. The wing mirror on his side hung loose like a droopy dog-ear. It clattered against the side as Mikey climbed in next to me.

You need to get that fixed.

That requires money.

Maybe ask my dad to lend you some?

I glanced at Mikey and he stifled a laugh. Yeah, fair enough. He ejected my Soulfire album and tossed it in the glove compartment, replacing it with one of his own.

Hey! I protested.

"Come on mate, you listen to them every day."

I like them!

Yeah, so do I, but I think listening to something that much is like an OCD or something.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Mikey grinned and pointed ahead.

To school, Pele!

Rolling my eyes, I pulled out of the drive.

After travelling bumper to bumper at the speed of a stoned snail, we passed through the front gates of Chapter Hill School. I pulled the car into a tight arc by the main steps and stopped so Mikey could jump out.

Laters mate.

He gifted me with a swift punch to the arm and slid out of the car. A few seconds after slamming the door too hard, he was locked in the arms of Lisa Harwood, an attractive blonde from my year.

I give it two weeks before he gets bored and moves onto his next victim, the jealous part of me predicted.

The five-minute warning bell clanged, stirring the crowds.

Damn!

I cranked the car back into first and charged around the main building towards student parking. I pulled into the last available space, between a silver Fiesta and a badly modified Clio. I switched off the engine and sat still for a moment, staring at nothing.

A second later there was a knock on the window. I turned around to see the familiar skinhead and unkind black eyes, and a knot tightened in my stomach. Terry waved his finger back and forth.

Sorry Eden, no spaces for you today. Try somewhere else.

I stared up at him, trying to find some kind of mercy in his face, but there was none to be found. Gritting my teeth, I restarted the engine with trembling fingers and reversed back out of the space. Terry and the rest of his crew leaned against the car next to mine and watched, laughing as I pulled away. As I drove back through the parking lot, another car passed me. I glanced in my rear-view mirror and watched it swing into the space I’d just left. The car door opened and Elliot - one of the football guys from my Physics class - climbed out. He walked right past Terry and his crew - they didn’t even give him a second glance. I bit my lip hard as the tears welled up.

Once back out of the main gate, I drove a few hundred yards to Tailor Street. I parked up and chinked a few pound coins into the pay and display. After slapping the ticket on the dashboard and slamming the door, I shuffled back to school.

Trying to cheer myself up, I re-imagined the scenario.

I vault out of the car and catapult forward, driving my forehead into his nose. There’s a satisfying crunch as it crumples. I laugh as he staggers about screaming, as a waterfall of his own blood spills down his front. Then I glare at his idiotic friends. They all run away, terrified.

The blast of a car horn from somewhere down the road snapped me back to reality.

I wondered for the umpteenth time if I should tell the school. And for the umpteenth time I argued that it would only get worse. Mr Burton senior was chairman of the school governors. This fact had allowed Terry to do A-levels in the first place and pretty much gave him a free reign to do what he wanted.

Got to love politics.

As I reached the main gates for the second time that morning, the final bell rang. Picking up the pace, I ran through the empty grounds and up the stone steps of the main entrance. At least he didn’t push me down these again, I thought bitterly.

The school itself was one of the largest in Chapter Hill, mainly because it accommodated for Sixth Form students like me as well as years seven to eleven. It was easy to get lost in the spider web of corridors and rooms if you didn’t know where you were going.

I tore down the empty hallways, my footsteps echoing around me. By the time I reached my English class, the door was already closed.

Thanks Terry, you made me late as well.

I put a clammy hand onto the door handle, oblivious to the fact that everything was about to change.

2

Twenty-three faces glanced up as I stood panting in the doorway. Mr Hanley stopped writing on the whiteboard and turned his podgy, red face towards me, peering over the top of his spectacles.

Ah Alexander, how nice of you to join us! Better late than never I suppose, please take your seat.

I muttered an apology and sat down at my desk.

At the start of the term it had been determined that I wasn’t cool enough to be allowed on the back row and the rest of the desks were full. So, I’d been left with the spot right in front of the teacher’s desk. This meant I was an open target to any onslaught from behind. A regular occurrence as Andrew Pearson shared the class with me.

Mr Hanley continued writing on the board until he was interrupted a second time by a light tap at the door. Miss Cleveland - the leather-faced school secretary - peered through the glass. Our teacher excused himself and waddled out of the room.

Instant disorder ensued. People shouted to each other from stools and others got up to go and talk to friends. No one spoke to me. Instead, an empty soda can smacked against the back of my head. I spun around to the sound of laughter as a bit of the cold liquid dribbled down my neck. Andrew stared at me from the back row, a satisfied grin on his face.

Sorry Eden, I was aiming for the bin!

Leave me alone! I hissed, which earned a collective ooooooohhhh from the rest of the class. I turned back around and fumbled through my bag, producing a dog-eared copy of Rebecca. I pretended to look through, my face burning.

The door opened and Mr Hanley padded back in. Okay everyone, playtime’s over, back to your seats please, he said. Lots of shuffling and then order was restored. I have just received some news. It would appear we have a new pupil joining us. He frowned down at a piece of paper in his hand. "A Miss Gabriella De Luca from Italy. A murmur waved across the classroom as the information was processed. She should be here shortly. In the meantime, I want to turn your attention to ‘Rebecca’. Now I trust you’ve all managed to read pages one hundred to one hundred and fifty over the weekend. If you haven’t, now is the time to panic, because, he drummed his fingers on the desk, there will be a test for last part of the lesson!"

The revelation was met with groans and nervous glances. It appeared the majority hadn’t even opened the book, let alone read fifty pages of it. A satisfied smile spread across my face. I’d read it from cover to cover twice already. Then I thought a little more morosely, it’s not like I have a social life to get in the way.

Mr Hanley raised a hand to silence the class. I’m in a generous mood, so for the next twenty minutes I’ll let you... refresh your memories, he said with a chuckle. The class relaxed and silence descended on the room as everyone scanned through the chapters. I thumbed the relevant pages, looking for key scenes. Mr Hanley used the time to finish writing the questions on the board. After a few minutes there was a soft knock at the door.

Come in.

The door opened and all the air left the room.

Standing in the doorway was the embodiment of perfection. Thick hair - iron straight and the shade of dark ink, spilled down to slender shoulders. Eyes like sapphires on ice, contrasted full red lips. Skin the colour of fresh honey. A slim biker jacket and figure hugging jeans emphasised a body most girls would kill their best friend for.

Flawless.

The class fell into a stunned silence. Even Mr Hanley seemed a little taken aback by the new girl’s undeniable beauty. After a few seconds he composed himself and addressed her directly, peering over the top of his glasses as he spoke.

Ah, Miss De Luca I presume. Welcome dear, I’m Mister Hanley, he fawned.

Gabriella De Luca dazzled the room with a smile. Thank you, sir. I could hear a faint hint of an accent in her voice, wrapping her words in silk.

"Everyone is re-reading pages one hundred to one hundred and fifty of ‘Rebecca’. Do you have a copy with you by any chance?"

Gabriella responded by deftly pulling a pristine copy of the book from her leather bag and holding it in the air.

Ah fantastic. Well now, there will be a test on those pages later, but you’re excused of course. Just start the book and catch up in your free time.

Actually Mister Hanley, I read the book on the journey over, so I’m happy to take the test too, the new girl replied in her subtle tone.

Mr Hanley beamed; his round face appearing worryingly close to bursting. "Oh that’s wonderful! Take note people, this is what we call a dedicated student! Well now Gabriella, take a seat, I believe there’s a free one next to Andrew there at the back." He pointed towards my tormentor. The new girl smiled again and made her way over to the back of the room.

Then something weird happened.

As Gabriella neared me, time crawled into slow motion. Something ignited in the depths of my chest and an immense heat ripped through my body, racing through my veins until it reached my fingers and toes. It was followed by a thousand miniature electric shocks, which crackled along every follicle of hair on my skin. Then I felt myself being unwillingly drawn towards her, as if she were a human magnet. I gripped the side of the desk to stop myself falling off the chair, but not before it tipped onto two legs. The new girl shot me a confused glance and hurried past.

As she moved away, the sensations stopped and my seat clattered back to its correct position. My mouth dropped open.

What the hell just happened?

Behind me I heard several loud sniggers and realised glumly that my bizarre behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed. I was clueless when it came to girls, but even I knew that it had not been a normal reaction.

I heard shuffling behind me and hushed words of greetings being exchanged as the new girl took her seat. I could hear people from other desks turning to speak to her. I kept my head fixed forward.

Okay, okay everyone, let the poor girl get settled! Mr Hanley said. He tapped the whiteboard with his marker. You have a test to fail.

All eyes shifted from Gabriella to ‘Rebecca’.

Revision didn’t last long. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see several classmates craning their necks to catch a sly glimpse. I had a worrying impulse to do the same thing. A stupid idea - it wasn’t like she would notice me anyway. But as much as I tried to ignore the urge, it got the better of me. I inched my head around to catch a quick look at Gabriella.

She was staring at me.

My stomach lurched as if someone had applied the brakes. There was no question about it. Her eyes were locked with mine. She didn’t look away or turn her nose up. Just kept calmly staring at me and I even saw the corners of her mouth inch up into a smile. A low squeak escaped my throat and I felt flames rising to my cheeks. I wanted to turn back, but couldn’t bring myself to look away. I felt powerless.

I could sense people focusing on me, wondering what the weirdo was doing no doubt. Andrew leaned over and mouthed the word ‘Loser’ into the new girl’s ear. At that point she mercifully detached her glance from me and flashed a smile at Andrew instead. I whirled my head back around. My face burned with embarrassment. I could actually hear my pulse hammering away in my ears. Oh my god! Why did I just stare at her like an idiot? After almost falling on her? Jesus! The new girl had probably just been looking around when I had optically attacked her. Nice work Alex, the girl’s only been here two minutes and I’ll bet she already thinks you’re a complete psychopath! That’s got to be a new record.

I tried to drown out the disapproving internal voice by filling my head with Daphne Du Maurier’s words, but I couldn’t concentrate. I kept reading the same sentence over and over, unable to make sense of it. After an eternity, Mr Hanley plodded over to each desk in turn and placed down some blank sheets of lined A4 paper. When we all had one, he made us put our copies of the book away and begin the test.

I stared at the first question on the whiteboard.

Q1. Why do you feel that the narrator of the story struggles to fit into their newly appointed position of power?

I frowned. I could understand the individual words, but my brain refused to comprehend the question. Looking away and looking back again made no difference.

My mind had gone blank.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson. On my desk lay a piece of paper with my name on and nothing else. Mr Hanley walked around and gathered the answers. He raised his eyebrows when he picked up mine but didn’t say anything. I was one of his best students; I guess that entitled me to a bad day or two. I watched as people gathered around Gabriella like moths to a flame. I made sure I didn’t catch her gaze again, busying myself with packing my folder into my bag, while Mr Hanley spoke.

Okay people, I want you to make sure you’ve read the next fifty pages by the end of the week. And actually make sure you do this time! You know, it’s only your education at stake.

I battled my way through the crowded corridors, trying to shut out the roar of noise that came from hundreds of over energised students. I made my way through the main building towards my locker. A poster pinned to the noticeboard in the hub caught my attention. I stopped to look. It was black with little white snowflakes dotted all over. In the middle, an exterior photo of the school had been photo-shopped to look as if it were covered in snow. I scanned the white print running underneath, my heart sinking.

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WHO KNOWS, THEY MAY SAY YES!

I shuddered and hurried away from the notice board. There was no one in this entire place who would ever consider saying YES! to me. So like the year 11 Christmas ball at my last school, I would spend the night with a book or gaming on the PC. Better that than the mortification of arriving on my own and spending the night alone.

I reached my locker, a thin grey affair that some kind soul had scratched ‘dickhead’ on. I battled with the padlock for a few seconds, before the door released. I traded my English folder for my science and maths textbooks. Swinging the door shut, I almost jumped out of my skin.

Leaning gracefully against the locker next to mine was Gabriella. Her arms were folded and she was regarding me with the same faint suggestion of a smile. She used her shoulders to push herself upright and moved closer to me. Instantly, I felt the charges popping under my skin again. I didn’t react, not wanting to look like even more of an idiot in front of her. My heart smashed against my ribcage as she surveyed me with her brilliant blue eyes.

Hi, she beamed, I didn’t get a chance to meet you earlier. I’m Gabriella De Luca. She extended a perfectly manicured hand and I paused for a beat, before offering my own, clammy version. As our skin connected, the sensations went off the chart. A sound similar to someone pouring popping candy into a glass of water filled my ears. If Gabriella had the same reaction, she made no comment, just held the greeting and I realised that she was waiting for a response.

Uh h-hi there, I’m Alexander Eden, I stammered.

Nice to meet you, Alexander.

Gabriella released my hand and the sensations dulled. Pausing for a second, she added, Listen, I wonder if I could ask you a favour. It’s my first day here and this place is pretty big. I could really use someone to show me around and help me find my classes. She fanned a slender hand through her hair as she spoke. The problem is that a lot of the people I’ve met so far seem a bit...immature. The new girl gestured over her shoulder. I followed the direction and noticed for the first time a small gathering of people watching us talk, sharing a look of bemused interest.

I hurriedly glanced back as Gabriella continued. You seem...different. So could I ask you to be my guide until I get settled?

She’s asking if it’s okay to spend time with me. It took a while to process the illogical request. My throat dried up and I had to swallow a few times before I was able to speak. I-I uh yeah, that’s not a problem, I croaked. Um, what class do you have now?

Gabriella retrieved a fold of paper from her jacket pocket and scanned her eyes along its content for a few seconds. This says that I have Art now. She looked up and smiled. So I guess Art.

Okay, well...that’s this way, I gestured, my heart still thumping a rapid bassline in my chest. I motioned for her to follow me and we wound our way down the corridors, much to the confusion of everyone we passed. We walked in silence for a while. I kept my mouth shut as I struggled to calm myself, convinced that anything I said would be absolutely the wrong thing. But Gabriella didn’t give me much of a chance to stay silent.

So, how long have you lived in Chapter Hill? she asked.

Not long, I replied.

My companion gave me a sideways glance. Is that it?

I swallowed hard, and mentally made sure my answer was embarrassment free before replying.

Well, I grew up in Wimbledon but moved to Birmingham when I was about eleven. We stayed for about five years. Then my stepdad got offered a better job in Chapter Hill. I swung my bag to the other shoulder. We moved back down about a year ago. My half-brother Mikey and I joined the school. He’s finishing his GCSE’s and I’m doing A-levels in the Sixth Form. Uh, which I guess you already know, since you’re in my class.

Gabriella nodded. It seems really nice here. You must enjoy it.

I gave a strained laugh. Ha…yeah. In an effort to shift the attention away from me I asked, Uh, so what’s your story then?

The new girl drew a deep breath. A very good question, but not one for right now.

Her odd response caught me off guard. I slowed my step, eyebrows arched. Gabriella hung back and placed a hand on my arm for a fleeting moment, sending the charges spiking again.

Sorry, that must have made me sound a bit strange, she laughed. What I mean is that it’s a long story and I can explain when we have more time.

I decided not to press the point, if she wanted to tell me she would. Besides, it was rare that anyone other than Tim even spoke to me, never mind someone this insanely beautiful, I wasn’t about to make it uncomfortable for her. Not to mention that her answer had implied we’d be spending more time together. I liked the sound of that.

Silence descended as we continued through the maze of hallways. We passed through the year seven Geography section. The walls were lined with colourful flow charts relating to world trade and drawings of the planet, scrawled with bright pens. We pushed through a set of side doors that led to the school grounds. The fierce wind rushed in to greet us. Invisible tendrils of ice scratched at my face. I pulled my scarf from my bag and wrapped it around my neck, deflecting some of the cold. Gabriella’s clothes were pretty inappropriate for the weather, but she didn’t seem to be bothered much by the cold.

To our left was the packed lunch area - a large grassy recess, set between two protruding sections of the school. Worn picnic benches, warped and bleached from years of facing the elements lay scattered around in no particular order. On the opposite side, a small bank of grass sloped up onto the school football pitch. I pointed towards it.

If we cut across there, it’ll be quicker than walking around, I explained. The art block is across the road.

Sounds good.

We climbed onto the pitch and made our way across, aiming for the gated exit in the northeast corner. As we neared the opening, I realised the shortcut had been a huge mistake. Coming through from the other direction - followed by his gang - was Terry Burton.

Adrenaline surged through my body. What do I do? Half of me wanted to turn back, but the other half didn’t want to look like a coward in front of Gabriella. My legs kept walking even though my mind screamed at me to leave. Time ran out. TJ nudged Terry and pointed in our direction. A dark smile spread across my tormentor’s face. Gabriella seemed to sense my unease and stopped to look at me, concern etched on her face. Alexander, are you okay?

I nodded and kept my head down as we started moving again. Maybe he’ll leave me alone because I’m with a girl. I was kidding myself. Terry was no gentleman. It would just be twice as humiliating this time.

The gang’s crude banter died down as they reached us. They stopped short in a curve, barring our way forward. Once again there was the stunned silence and the exchanges of glances as most the gang took in Gabriella for the first time. Terry, ever the classy guy, stared directly at her chest. After a few seconds he managed to prise his attention away. He took a final blast on the joint he was smoking and then crushed it under his boot heel. He stared at me through bloodshot eyes.

Eden! What a lovely surprise! And there I was thinkin’ you’d ‘ad enough for one day. My body stiffened. And who’s this stunner? he added, leering towards Gabriella. Instinctively I grabbed the new girl’s wrist and pulled her behind me. I had no idea where my courage was coming from.

Terry leaned back again and narrowed his eyes. No, wait...don’t tell me that this hot piece of ass is actually wiv you?’ He started snorting with laughter and his gang joined in, baying like a bunch of demented hyenas. I could feel the rage growing inside my stomach, like someone had lit a fire. I tried to relax, knowing that if I lost control and hit him, I would get destroyed. So I tried to keep my response calm, but my words came out shaky and flecked with anger. Gabriella and I are not together. She just asked me to show her around. Is that okay with you?"

Terry's mouth shrunk into a thin line. When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. A little bit feisty today ain’t we Eden? he hissed. Trying to impress the bird? Might want to watch your mouth though mate, else it’s liable to get smacked.

I felt Gabriella tense behind me. Her hand squeezed mine, probably a comforting gesture, but it was far stronger than expected and I almost cried out in pain.

Terry’s expression relaxed and his tone lightened. What you said does make sense though, he mused, there is no way a fine thing like this would be seen dead with a tit like you. He moved to the side so he could see Gabriella clearer and regarded her with a flick of the chin. So babe, since you and this loser ain’t hittin’ it, how ‘bout you come with me and find out what a real man can do? On cue his gang started whooping and making crude gestures.

Gabriella shook my hand off and paced towards Terry. She cut right through his personal space and stopped inches from him. Even in heels, she only reached his chest, but her bare faced confidence unnerved him and he took a step back. Gabriella crossed her arms and rested on her back leg.

That’s funny, she said, scrutinizing Terry first and then his friends, I don’t see any real men here, apart from the one behind me. She turned and winked. "I also know you immature cacacazzi wouldn’t have a clue what to do with me if you got me alone. So if you’ll excuse me boys, we have classes to get to, so move!" She pushed Terry out of her way and walked through the space where he’d stood. He made no effort to stop her. The others were silent and parted like the Red Sea, allowing her through. Turning, she gestured for me to follow. I gave a confused shake of my head, but followed, thankful.

I passed Terry just as he came to his senses. I made a strangled noise as I was dragged backwards by my jacket hood. He turned his back to Gabriella, all his attention focused on me. You go on sweetness, he said, waving a hand in the air. Eden and I have to have a chat about his attitude. Don’t we mate? He slapped a humiliating hand against my cheek a few times.

I didn’t expect what happened next.

Gabriella whirled around; her face contorted with a rage the likes of which I had never seen. Her teeth clenched and eyes blazed.

LET HIM GO NOW! she screamed. Her voice sliced through the air like a razor. Goosebumps shot across my skin and a chill rolled down my spine.

I felt the material around my neck go slack. I chanced a glance up at Terry. His eyes had glazed over and he was staring across the pitch into space.

What the hell?

I looked at the rest of the gang. They were shuffling around looking sorry for themselves.

When Terry spoke his voice was distant and disjointed, as if he were about to fall asleep. I’m...sorry...think...drank too much...we’ll go now.

My mouth hung open as I watched the crew leave without another word. I stared after them, watching them disappear into the distance. Gabriella’s voice brought me back down to earth.

Well they were assholes. Her tone was light-hearted and when I turned to look, her expression had reverted to one of angelic tranquillity. She flashed her perfect teeth at me. Sorry about that little outburst there. I don’t like bullies. Oh and don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to protect me. You’re a sweetheart, Alexander. She planted a quick kiss on my cheek. I was lost for words as